Della laughed, too, but she wasn’t going to chicken out. Hell no. She was making time for her BOBs tonight. Her therapist had recommended it. And Della always had been a good patient.

Twenty minutes later, five happy customers were leaving the store with multiple shopping bags. “A pleasure doing business with you,” Frieda said at the door as she watched them all file out. The woman had a smile as big as Colorado on her face. Understandable, given she’d just made enough money to shut up shop for the week.

“Della?”

Oh crap. Della’s heart leapt into her throat. She turned to find her brother crossing the parking lot toward them with that long-legged stride, his limp barely perceptible. Della had to admit, he wore his uniform well, his mirrored aviator sunglasses giving him a remote, inscrutable expression.

“Hey…” she said as he came to a halt in front of the little group. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw your car.” He removed his glasses and anchored them in his shirt pocket. “I thought I’d see what you’re up to.”

“Just…” She swallowed. “Shopping.”

His gaze dropped to the pastel pink shopping bag she was holding. It had Frieda’s Palace printed boldly on the front in a lacy black print. Her first instinct was to guiltily hide the bag behind her, but he’d already seen it, and, last time she checked, buying sex toys was not a crime.

So, screw that.

With Winona’s hand—she didn’t have to turn to know it was her—suddenly at the small of her back, she straightened her spine.

“Yeah…so I see.” His gaze ran over the rest of the crowd, coming to rest on Winona. “I suppose this was your idea?”

“Arlo.” Della jumped in before Winona got the chance, narrowing her eyes at her brother. “Don’t be so rude. It was my idea.”

“Hey, Arlo,” a voice said from behind them.

Arlo flicked his attention to the door. “Hey, Frieda. Business is good, I see.”

“Booming,” Frieda confirmed with a laugh.

Winona raised an eyebrow. “On a first-name basis with Frieda there, Cap’n Crunch? I think I’ve been underestimating you.”

He gave her a tight smile. “You have no idea.”

Interestingly, Della felt Winona’s fingers curl into her shirt. “That’s funny. I didn’t picture you as the blow-up-doll type.”

He gave a half smile. “Whereas I pictured you exactly as the sex-shop-tour-guide type.”

“Ooh, officer…you’ve been picturing me?” Winona batted her eyelashes before turning her head slightly. “Hey, Frieda, I don’t suppose you have a T-shirt that says sex shop tour guide, do you?”

“’Fraid not, sugar. I got one that says Wine and Dildos.”

“I’ll take it.” Winona smiled. “The perfect night in.”