Jonah had given her his confident, c**k-sure smirk when she handed over the keys. She hadn’t wanted to drive, to tell the truth. She wanted to sit back, not think, and watch the stars and trees fly by. Any other moment in her life, Dani would’ve been unsettled by the contentment that sat with her as Jonah drove beside her. Any other moment, but she wasn’t thinking about that.
“What are we stealing?”
“There’s a photograph of my mother in Julia’s house. I want it.”
“A picture? Are you serious?”
“Very,” Dani said. “Julia said a bunch of her stuff was burned, but I think there’s a picture somewhere.”
“I’d hide it in the flour container if it was my place. Don’t know too many guys around these parts who bake with flour. Now, a fish fry is a whole other story.”
“You’re not a chef?”
Jonah
