He kept telling himself it meant nothing. Nothing at all. It wasn’t a reflection on him or them as a couple. One night apart was normal, even. Others did it. He could adjust and get used to it.

The first person he spied was the guy who ran the market. He sat with two other men at a table by the window. Then he saw Ben. He sat at the counter, nursing a beer. No one bothered him. All that crime solving had earned him some downtime but Connor was half surprised that the residents of Whitaker respected that. Probably had something to do with the don’t-bother-me vibe Ben gave off.

If the last day hadn’t dragged and had his sense of security flipping upside down, he would have left the man alone. He’d probably also be with Maddie right now, but that was beside the point.

He slid onto the barstool next to Ben’s and immediately started playing with the napkin the bartender on duty for Sylvia slid in front of him. He folded and unfolded the edge. Ran his finger along the seam as he ordered a club soda.

He didn’t drink in support of his father’s abstaining, and he didn’t miss it, except for the ritual of it. Holding a drink always made it easier to stand around and talk. Not that he was a big talker.

Ben watched him, his gaze switching from Connor’s face to his fingers. “What did you do?”

Connor’s hand froze. “I just walked in the door.”

“It’s snowing. You just survived a dangerous situation. You’re sharing a house and bed with Maddie. And you’re here like a dumbass instead of there.” Ben took a long drink. “That can’t possibly be your choice. Please tell me you’re smarter than that or I’ll regret not letting Evan shoot you.”

“Maybe it is my choice. It’s not weird to want some alone time.”

“In a bar.” Ben glanced over his shoulder. “With other people.”

His plans for tonight included a movie and another try at sex. He had to believe the off feeling he got last night and the fact it was only that one time was an aberration. Now that he’d had more sleep, he expected their mojo to be back in full force.

“See, I’m thinking you fucked up.” Ben delivered the assessment, then shoved the half-empty beer glass away from him. “Am I close?”

That made Connor’s defenses rise. “Maybe it was her.”

“It’s never them.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“Your life will be easier if you pretend to get that.” Ben dragged out his phone and typed something in. Then he turned the screen around to face Connor. “There’s a betting pool and I have next Wednesday as the day you blow it and come hunting for advice. Any chance you can keep it together until then?”