Duncan Delaney and the Cadillac of Doom (29 page)

“You don’t have to do those,” he said.

Misty turned and scowled. “Jesus, Duncan,” she said, the words opening a floodgate, “you need a woman around here!”

The dam containing his loss burst at last. He fell into Misty’s surprised, soapy arms, his anguish flowing down his cheeks in salty torrents. He held her until his grief emptied its painful river into a thirsty desert, and past the dwindling desolation that remained he held her still.