Didn’t expect that. Not the honesty. Not the simplicity of it. No expectation. No demand. Just the truth.

Picking up my beer I take another sip before nodding toward the box. “Alright. Since you’re so set on this whole ‘getting to know me’ thing, let’s start simple.”

Leaning back he smirks at me. “Oh yeah?”

“Let’s start easy. Everyone has a favorite topping, what’s yours?”

Bennett’s smirk widens like he knows his answer will gross me out. “Sausage and giardiniera.”

A groan slips out. “Yuck. Of course, you’d like spicy pickled vegetables on pizza. That sounds disgusting.”

He feigns offense. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

“I’ll pass.” Another bite of my own slice, then, “Alright, what else? Favorite movie?”

“Heat.”

Not a bad choice. “Respectable.”

Bennett tips his beer toward me. “What about you?”

“Movie? The Dark Knight.”

A nod of approval. “Solid choice.”

“Band?” I ask.

“Changes too much to say.”

I lift a brow. “Cop-out answer.”

A smirk. “Fine. If I had to pick? Sevendust.”

Respectable. “Good taste.”

He eyes me over his beer. “And you?”

I consider it. “I don’t know, I’m all over the place. Depends on my mood.”

The smirk returns. “So, a cop-out answer?”

A roll of my eyes. “Shut up.”

For the first time since we met, it doesn’t feel like we’re circling each other, waiting for the other to throw the first punch. It feels… normal. Like maybe this whole cousin thing doesn’t have to be so complicated after all. That all changes when my phone rings.

* * *

Morgan

The sheriff’s department is quieter than usual, an ominous quiet that presses down on my chest. The early morning stillness wraps around me like a weight, thick and suffocating. It feels wrong to be in Gabe’s office without him, even though I’ve been here more times than I can count. His absence is still raw, an ache I’m not sure will ever go away.

Stacks of boxes surround his desk, each filled with the remnants of his life: case files, books, photos, and personal knickknacks. The department has been kind enough to let us clear out his office at our own pace, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Every item I touch is a ghost of him, lingering in the space he used to command with quiet authority.

Gabe was always meticulous, his desk unnaturally organized. Now, it’s a chaotic mix of paperwork and unfinished business, a stark contrast to the man I knew. I sigh, picking up a small framed photo. It’s him, Aubrey, and Theo at the Bear & Brew’s grand reopening after Theo’s parents died. Their grins are wide, arms slung over each other’s shoulders. It feels like a lifetime ago.