At least somebody gets it, how far we were willing to go to figure this out, how hard the research has been, and he’ll definitely appreciate how many teeny-tiny pieces of paper I puzzled together.

“Look . . .” I point at the table where the invoice is now taped together. “I went through the trash again because I felt like we might’ve missed something.”

“And I’m guessing we did.”

I tell him about fitting the scraps of paper back together, the online pseudo-pharmacy, and the supplement Yvette bought. His eyes narrow as he examines the invoice.

“You did it. This is how she poisoned him.” Blake holds the paper up, showing it to me like it holds the importance I thought it held. “You are so fucking brilliant! How long did this take you?” He makes it sound like I cured cancer or figured out how to make chocolate be calorie-free.

“Hours,” I lament, “which would’ve all been worth it if it were useful.”

He places a quick, soft kiss to my forehead that soothes me more than I’d admit. “Useful to Jeff or not, it’s useful to me.”

“Huh?”

Blake shrugs. “I work in insurance, not the law. And our standard is a lot more . . . asshole-ish might be the best word. Let me see what I can do. Because what you found is the truth. And that matters. Answers matter.”

I don’t think we’re talking about Yvette Horne’s shopping habits anymore, but rather, my finally agreeing to go on a date.

That ‘yes’ changed everything.

“They do. Does that mean we’re going out tonight? Are you here to sweep me off my feet and whisk me away to dinner?” I cringe at my awesomely bad flirting skills. They’re not the best, but hopefully, they’re better than my pep talks. And I could use some pity pizza for my pity party. Maybe a pity White Claw too.

“Uh, does whisking you away to your place count?” His sheepish grin begs me to say yes once more. “I went there first, and Jacob offered to watch Chunky so I could hunt you down here. I promised to bring pizza back as payment. It’s not the date I promised you yet, but it could be fun?”

Pizza sounds perfect, but . . . “Hunt? Pretty sure I’m the easiest person in the world to find. I go home, go to work, rinse, and repeat,” I say, tilting my head left, then right, and then do the same thing again. “I am so ridiculously boring.”

“You are the furthest thing from boring, Miss Walker,” he says, squeezing me around the middle and shaking me a little bit, which makes me laugh. “Tell me something I don’t know.”