Chapter 11
Truly, madly, deeply.
Quin blinked and kept his stare on the ceiling. He’d kick the Savage Garden song out of his head for good if it kept him up all night. Love songs. He really hadn’t just sunk to that level, had he?
Josie snuggled against his ribs and her fingers sought his nipple. Still awake. Which meant he could rouse her for another round. Maybe he should wait. They’d taken a huge leap and the last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm her.
But goddamn, he couldn’t get enough of her.
He plucked her fingers away before she rubbed off his flesh and folded her hand in his.
“What are you thinking?” Her small voice held a dash of uncertainty. As if she didn’t really want to hear the answer.
He swiped his thumb over the skin of her wrist. “Everything.” It wasn’t a lie. But he also wasn’t going to tell her he was turning into a hopeless romantic. “You?”
“I just can’t help but wonder what’s in store for you. I mean, you moved here when you were seventeen. You and your family made a home here. What happens after this? Do you plan to go back to the city? What about your mom?”
He would have smiled at Josie’s rambling and pensive questions if they hadn’t been centered on him. “Well, Mom hasn’t spoken to me since she heard about the fire.”
She lifted her head from the pillow. Her curls fell onto his shoulder. “Did you tell her you’re innocent?”
He shrugged. “I did. I guess she wants more proof of that. She was mortified by my warrant. But, to be honest, I’ve kept my distance too. I don’t want her to be in the position of lying to the authorities about my whereabouts. The less she knows the better.”
“What about Kennedy?”
“You know my sister can’t avoid being a pain in the ass for more than a week. We still talk. She believes I had nothing to do with the fire, but I suspect her moving to Silver Ridge had something to do with what happened with me.”
Guilt ate a hole in his stomach. Kennedy had said her move didn’t have anything to do with the glares she’d received from Whistlemore’s townsfolk, but he’d bet his 50-percent ownership in the logging company that she was lying.
Josie tucked her chin, hiding her gaze beneath her seductress eyelashes. “I feel bad about Kennedy. I didn’t talk to her much after you left. It was all just so painful, and—”
He caught her chin. “Don’t mention it, okay? Kennedy’s always been a lone wolf. She’s happiest by herself. She’d hate it if you felt guilty for a decision she made.”
Josie’s mouth lifted. “Yeah, she’d probably challenge my ass to a game of beer pong if she thought I felt sorry for her.”
He chuckled. “That’s a game you don’t want to play with her, trust me.”
Josie relaxed, lowering herself back to the crook of his arm.
“Satisfied now that you’ve dug up my family drama?”
Her light laugh filled the room. “Well, it had to be discussed. And yes, a bit.”
“What about your folks? Did you speak to them yet?”
She squirmed. “No. It would make my mom go wild with worry, and she has enough to take care of with dad’s dementia. I’ll go visit them when this has settled down.”
He crushed her to his side. “He’s gotten worse?” Her dad’s diagnosis had come just months before Liam’s death.
“Yeah, but he’s happy. He’s started meditating—something I could never have seen him doing before. He’s determined to reverse it and I admire that about him.”
“I’d love to see him.”
Her cheek warmed on his chest. “He’d like that.”
“Good. Now let’s get some sleep.”
She shivered and he frowned.
“Cold?”
“A little. The heat’s dropping quickly without the furnace running.”
He glanced at the clock on his phone. Almost 10:00 p.m. They had several hours to go, and although he planned to keep Josie warm, they’d both sleep a little better with some heat. “I’ll start the fire.”
“You don’t have to—”
He rolled out of bed and tucked the blanket around her. “It’ll only take me a minute.”
“Hurry up,” she said.
He stroked her cheek with his fingers and she turned into his palm. He had to prove to her that this was okay, that Liam would be okay with them being together. There was no way he could end things after tonight.
He stepped into his briefs, picked up his phone and flicked on the flashlight, then strode into the living room.
He grabbed some wood from the stack next to the fireplace and tossed it inside.
He assembled the logs for the longest burning time and set them ablaze with the matches he’d found on the mantel.
“Quin!” Josie’s scream reverberated through the house.
His heart slammed against his palate. A chill chased the heat from his body as he raced toward the bedroom.
* * *
Josie tore out of the room, a sheet wrapped around her, the gaze of the man she’d caught staring at her through her window hot on her spine.
Smack!
“Oh my god!” she shrieked.
The firm grip on her arms was familiar. Quin’s scent filled her nostrils.
“What happened?” His demand came out on a quake.
She blinked but her eyes took their time to adjust to the dark. “Someone was in my backyard. Lightning struck and I saw him just—just standing there.” She gripped the sheet at her breasts. God, had the creep seen her naked? He might have been too far away. And it was dark. No. Surely he hadn’t.
Her stomach dropped. The flashlight had been on when they’d had sex.
“Stay here.”
He eased her against the wall and crept toward the bedroom.
Her pulse beat in her ears, the sound as loud as a turbojet.
She closed her eyes. The insides of her eyelids were just as dark as the hallway.
She tightened her hand on her phone but didn’t dare turn on the flashlight and alert the creep outside.
Quin rushed out of the bedroom. “Where’s your flashlight?”
“I’ll get it.” She flicked on her screen, giving her just enough light to see what was in front of her and not set off a beam that would be visible from outside. She made her way to the mudroom. Moving kept her heart from beating out of her chest.
Quin stayed close behind her. In the mudroom, she put her phone on the washing machine and pulled out the stool she kept folded near the dryer.
Then she reached into the cupboard, being careful to keep the sheet wrapped around her.
She retrieved Liam’s heavy-duty, waterproof flashlight and held it out to Quin.
He grabbed her hips, and his fingertips bit through the sheet-dress. She gasped and seized his shoulder with her free hand.
“Stay here, dammit,” he said, his jaw tight and his eyes softer than his tone. “Whoever is out there wants you hurt for some reason. I’m going to find the sonofabitch, but I need to know you’re safe.”
“We should just call the sheriff.”
Quin shook his head sharply. “He won’t get here in time. And we probably don’t have reception.” He snagged the flashlight and tucked his phone into his pocket. “Is there still a gun in the closet?”
She nodded.
“Stay put.”
Even in the dim lighting, she could see that his eyes had shifted, making them as hard as granite. He snaked his arm around her waist. Standing on the stool, she was almost the same height as he was.
“I mean it, Jos. Stay put.” He planted a kiss on her lips.
His five-o’clock shadow abraded her mouth, but warmth spread through her as he moved his lips softly against hers, teasing her with the tip of his tongue. Her legs went weak. She gripped his shoulder tighter for support.
He broke away, his breath fast and hot on her face. “I’ll be quick.”
She scooped up her phone and made her way to the bedroom, where she pulled on her pants and sweater.
There was no way she was going to relax or calm the anxiety in her chest, but some sage or incense might help a little.
Anything to take away the crawling sensation of being stared at.
The man had been wearing a hood, and everything had happened too fast to place his face in the dark.
Keeping her phone poised in front of her, she went to the altar in her living room.
She opened the wooden box etched with the seven moon phases and placed her phone on the top of the table.
Then she retrieved some white sage incense, pushed it into the holder, and lit the end.
It wasn’t much, but if she could take the edge off her nerves, she might be able to think straight enough to figure out who was after her.
And maybe even analyse what the devil was going on between her and Quin.
No, that’s the last thing she needed to figure out, because nothing should be going on. At least not yet. Except a whole lot of sex. Nothing was going on going on. People had sex with no strings all the time. She’d never been that person, but maybe she was now.
But would it be so weird to be with Quin?
She inhaled deeply, letting the herby scented smoke surround her. Pressing her fingers to her chest, she touched the uneven edge of her citrine crystal and exhaled.
She didn’t believe in connecting with the dead.
Sure, some clairvoyants did, but that wasn’t her area or cup of tea.
But she could align herself with Liam’s energy, with the tether that kept them eternally bound.
The link between her spirit and Liam’s was so strong that she could sometimes still feel, smell, and sense him when she wanted.
She closed her eyes and remembered the feeling of him lying in bed next to her.
The warmth emanating from his body, even when they weren’t touching.
The circuit of energy that circled his body like a bubble, syncing with her heart center.
Seconds ticked by, but no connection came.
Only an insurmountable sensation of guilt.
She sniffed and dashed the tears from the corners of her eyes.
Liam was gone. But Quin was very much still here.
Creak
She snapped her eyes open. Her head jerked toward the hall and ice coursed through her veins.