The warm weight of Dani sleeping against his chest was almost as good as it got. “Claire thinks I should be worried about you. Pardon me. Concerned.” Oz Peters flicked quote marks with his fingers around the word. “I told her you were now a legal adult and could make your own decisions.” “How’d that go over?” Oz slanted a look at him, sipping his beer. “So consider me concerned.” “This,” Doyle made air quotes, “totally gives you credibility.” “I know. I also know you’ve been staring at that phone for about fifteen minutes. Unless you get your ass moving, you’ll miss the last ferry. You also have this ridiculously amazing friend who can zip you across the strait lickety split. Faster, then say, a ferry.” “Ridiculously awesome friends don’t say lickety split.” “They do when there’s a minor in the room. Last time we talked, there was all this “she’s not my girl” vomiting from you after you scared her out of my club.” “Maybe it’s someone else.”
