Chapter 47
Chapter Forty-Seven
Colton stood in his darkened kitchen and swallowed two over-the-counter sleep aids.
He’d used them before to combat jet lag.
Hopefully, they could drown out the sound of Riley’s voice when she’d stared up at him that afternoon, the shock in her eyes turning to pleasure for a split second before the hurt pushed it away.
Then the ire. How special I feel.
She was special. But his gut-level reaction to her standing in an open doorway had made her feel anything but. Again, something else he’d broken he had no idea how to fix, especially from the distance he needed to keep. For her own good.
The clock on the microwave told him it was well past eleven. These days, it seemed he left in the dark and came home in the dark. But even as the case against Everett strengthened, his whereabouts remained unknown.
Upstairs in his bedroom, Colton plugged his cell phone charger into the wall.
The device had run out of juice a couple of hours earlier, so he flipped through his mail, waiting for it to charge enough to check texts and voicemail.
When the phone lit up, he had no missed texts, but he did have three voicemails.
He punched in the number to retrieve the messages and hit Speaker. He deleted two hang-ups, and when he heard nothing but silence on the third, moved his thumb to delete it too.
“Um, hey, Colton.” His heart lurched, thumb jerking away from the delete button.
“It’s Riley. I’m sorry for calling so late.
It’s almost eleven, and I’ve called twice before but didn’t leave a message.
But then, this isn’t something I wanted to leave on voicemail.
Can you please call me? I don’t care how late it is.
And don’t worry. I’m not going to propose to you.
” Her chuckle sounded a bit forced. “Please, Colton? Please call me? Thanks.”
He stared at the phone, willing it to ring again, not at all sure he had the courage to make the call himself. He checked the time. Ten minutes till midnight. It really was too late to call anybody at this hour.
I don’t care how late it is.
His pulse raced as his thumb hovered over her number.
Then with a shake of the head, he set the device down on the bedside table.
In the master bathroom, he brushed his teeth and crawled into bed, realizing his almost slow-motion movements were his way of waiting to see if she’d call again.
By the time he flipped off the bedside lamp, he’d accepted the fact she wasn’t going to.
He stared up at the dark ceiling. Maybe two more sleep tablets were in order.
Riley rolled over and checked the time on her phone.
Twelve-twenty. Her heart fell. He wasn’t going to call.
But then, how could she blame him? He’d only been trying to protect her, as he’d always done, and she’d returned it with cold sarcasm, allowing all the hurt she’d endured since he left dictate her words and actions.
The ringing of her cell phone shattered the stillness, and she snatched it up. “Colton?”
“Riley.” The familiar deep rumble of his voice brought tingles up the back of her neck. “I’m sorry it’s so late.”
“No. No, please.” She scrambled to sit up, only a twinge in her hip left from her procedure. “I’m glad you called.” Closing her eyes, she took a silent deep breath. “How are you?”
“Fine. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No. I’m … uh … still having a little difficulty in that area. My therapist prescribed me a sleeping pill, but I … I didn’t take it tonight.”
“Listen, I want to apologize for what happened earlier today.”
Her brow crinkled in question. “What do you have to apologize for? That’s actually why I was calling you. To apologize.”
“No, it was me. I was harsh, and I scared you. That’s not what I intended. I guess knowing the guy was standing at the gate less than two weeks ago unnerved me a little to see you there with no one around you.”
“It probably wasn’t the brightest move on my part.
And I certainly don’t believe you need to apologize.
I was rude to you. I try to never go to bed with unfinished business, and the way we left things today didn’t sit right with me.
So, please accept my apology. I know you had my best interests in mind, as usual. ”
“Let’s call it even and forget about it.”
“Sounds good.” The line sat silent between them for several seconds. “Well … I should let you go. So you can get some sleep.”
“No, it’s all right. I’m a little too wound up to sleep, anyway.”
“I know the feeling.”
“I’m glad you decided to see a therapist.”
She snuggled back down into the covers. “She’s helped me a lot.
That was great advice, to talk to somebody.
Somebody not involved with me or this mess.
The day I got those awful flowers, Mom called her, and she came right over.
I felt guilty since it was a weekend, but until she got here, I hadn’t realized how affected I’d been.
I completely went to pieces once we were alone. ”
“We hold back with our family and friends. We don’t want them to worry about us.
I didn’t talk to Theresa or my parents about how I felt after I got shot.
Kept telling them I was fine. But with my counselor, I unloaded.
It made it easier to talk to the people close to me about it, but I think you have to get rid of all the garbage first.”
“It’s definitely helped me navigate all of this a little better.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“So, what’s got you wound up?”
“Pardon me?”
“You said you were too wound up to sleep.”
“Oh, right. The case, I guess. The fact we can’t locate this guy is driving me crazy. And going back through Shane’s case file makes me cross-eyed by about nine o’clock.”
Her jaw fell slack. “At night? You’re putting too much time into this, Colton. You need to take some time for yourself.”
“I will after he’s caught. I’ll take a month or so off. Go to Arizona to play some golf.”
Her heart clutched. He might not be working her detail, but he was putting even more time into working her case—Shane’s case—instead of starting his golf holiday the day after he’d left her sitting in her study. Such a man of integrity.
She cleared her throat. “I wish John could take some time away too. I know Avery would love to see more of him but doesn’t want me to feel guilty about him putting in so much time on this.”
“And we all know it’s not your fault. You know that, don’t you? You know it’s not your fault?”
“In my head I do. But it’s hard knowing how stressed everybody is.
It scares me to have people I love around me when I’m out.
I couldn’t handle it if anybody got hurt.
I’m always wondering if I should go away for a while or if it’s better to stay put so we can get him that much sooner.
How long will I need protection? How long before I can look for a new home of my own? It all just spins around in my head.”
“You’re doing terrific, Riley. I’m glad you haven’t left and are still getting out some. The shelter event went well, record number, they told me. I’m happy you got to be there.”
Her brow crinkled. The shelter event? “Who’d you talk to?”
“I was there. Working in the kitchen. You know I love to cook.”
So, he had been there but kept himself in the back and not out front with everybody else. Even walking through the buffet line, she’d had no idea he was in the back helping to prepare their roasted chicken dinner.
She swallowed her disappointment that she’d missed him. “I’m glad you could come out for it. And the food was amazing.”
“Thanks.” He yawned. “So, how was your Christmas?”
She should let him go, but wasn’t ready quite yet to break this tenuous connection.
“Very nice. Did our usual gather-around-the-tree-in-our-PJs-and-tear-into-our-gifts thing. It’s utter chaos and as much fun as Christmas Eve at the shelter.
We drink hot chocolate and make a huge mess and watch the kids play with their toys. It’s a great time.”
“Sounds a lot like what we do. Only we get dressed first. Then we always do Mexican food—enchiladas, tamales, the whole nine yards.”
She closed her eyes, imagining Christmas morning with Colton and his family. Exchanging gifts and enjoying an enchilada dinner around the table. A dream.
Her eyes popped open. And a dream it would stay.
“I’m just glad you didn’t spend the day worrying about me. Or I guess I should say my case.”
“Hmm. So, what did Santa bring you?”
“A book I’ve been wanting to read, a beautiful locket from Grandpa Kevin that was my grandmother’s. Very special. And they always make a charitable donation to the Lend a Hand shelter and Save the Children. Oh, and I got a new set of golf clubs.”
“You play golf?”
“Have since high school.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“Why? You wanna take me to Arizona to golf with you?” When no response came, she wanted to bite her tongue. “That was a joke, Colton. I told you I wouldn’t propose.”
He laughed, and she relaxed. “I know. I just didn’t know you golfed. And your family also made a donation to the Foundation. Very generous.”
“Mom said she got your thank-you note. She thinks you’re quite eloquent.”
“Boy, she’s easy.”
She picked up a lock of hair and twisted it around her finger. “You underestimate yourself. Isn’t that a little unusual for you?”
“You’re never going to let up on me about that, are you?”
“Are you kidding? One of the first things you ever said to me was that nobody would have come near me if you’d been with me. You weren’t wrong. Just a little cocky.”
“Like I said, I’m confident in my work. It’s some of these other things I’m not so sure of.”
Her smile diminished as his words hung in the air. She knew some of the things he wasn’t so certain about. Like his dancing abilities, which she felt were just fine. Or his ability to chair the board of a major charity, of which she’d had no question.
And his ability to give her what she needed to be happy. Yet not once did she doubt.
“Riley?”
“Oh … sorry. I was just thinking.”
“You should get to sleep. Knowing you, you have a million things to do tomorrow.”
“I guess. Mom and I are working on some last-minute details for the ball on Tuesday. What are you doing?”
“Trying to find Warren Everett.”
“Really, Cole. Take a day off.”
“After it’s over.”
She sighed. “All right. Sleep well. Thank you for calling me back.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for leaving your message. I’m glad we could talk.”
“Me, too.” She gripped her phone, not wanting to hang up.
“See you Monday,” he said after a silent moment, as if perhaps he, too, was reluctant to sever the connection.
Or maybe that was her wishful thinking.