My gut clenched. “Was there a bomb?”
“Nah. You know how cautious everyone has gotten since last year. Then we boarded again and had to wait while they got his luggage off. And by that time, the wings needed to be de-iced again.”
“That sucks. I’m…I’m glad you’re back.”
“So am I.” He yawned. “Sorry. I’ve gotta get to work. I’ll see you later, babe.”
It was almost midnight when he came dragging through the door. The living room wasn’t lit, but it wasn’t in total darkness. The lights on the Christmas tree were blinking blue and red and green and white.
“I’m sorry, babe.” Wills yawned so widely I could almost feel the ache in my own jaw. “I really wanted to help you decorate the tree. Something burning? You didn’t have to call the fire department, did you? Remember the mess they made of Mr. Vincent’s apartment?”
“Uh…” Shit. I’d grown so accustomed to the lingering odor of the wood I’d burned in the fireplace the other night that I’d forgotten all about airing out the apartment.