Chapter 20
TWENTY
The safehouse felt different without Juni in it.
Colin noticed it the second he closed the door behind Maren. The way her breath caught when she stepped into the living room and seemed to remember at the same time he did that they were alone.
Really alone.
No Mac in the kitchen making coffee with all the subtlety of a moose wearing tap shoes. No Juni narrating the emotional lives of two stuffed animals and a Blue Fairy and begging to go see Pretzel again.
Just the two of them standing in the safehouse living room, Maren looking too pretty in her ordinary jeans and flowy blouse, her hair a little mussed from the wig she’d worn all day, her eyes still shining from amusement and nerves.
“Here you go.” Colin handed the bags to Maren.
He should have taken them straight to her room, but what if she followed him and they were in her bedroom together, no one else in the house?
What if he set the bags on the dresser and then did something stupid with his hands like run them through her hair, or cup her face, or pick her up and lay her on the bed?
“Thank you.” Maren took the bags. “I’ll just put these away.”
He watched her pad quietly down the hall, barefoot, since she’d kicked her slides off at the front door. She closed the bedroom door behind her.
He wasn’t sure if he sighed out of relief or disappointment.
Colin was in the kitchen rummaging in the fridge when he heard her bedroom door open again. He closed the refrigerator door and looked up.
She’d changed into one of the summer dresses she’d bought and was coming down the hallway almost hesitantly, but with a small smile on her face. Colin couldn’t look away.
“That looks great on you.” The words slipped out.
“Thank you. It’s all right.” She looked down at herself.
“It’s more than all right,” Colin said as he studied Maren.
The day had been good for her. He’d watched it happen in tiny pieces.
The first time she’d really let go at Do’s and Donuts.
The fierce concentration when she threw the axe.
The moment at Riversong when April had told her this town took care of its own, that she was family, and Maren looked like she’d forgotten what it felt like to be included in the world.
Then the river. Her face in the sunlight. Her quiet voice saying she understood why Sean loved it.
It’s worth moving here just to be near it, Charlie had said.
And Maren had looked at him, just for a second.
Don’t go back to San Diego. Stay here. With me.
He couldn’t say it out loud. Not yet.
Maybe after this is all over.
“It’s so quiet here without Juni,” Maren said.
Colin should have left her alone. Instead, he looked at her standing in that too-quiet living room, looking lovely in a new dress that caressed her curves.
“Let me turn on some music.” Colin pulled out his phone and connected it to the house’s speaker system.
“Music?”
“Yeah. You’re right; it’s way too quiet.”
“What kind of music?”
He grinned as he selected his playlist. “You’ll find out.”
“That sounds ominous.”
Colin chuckled. “Trust me.”
A slide guitar started playing a slow rhythm—warm and lonely and full of sunbaked roads. Music made of desert shadows and open sky.
Maren closed her eyes and smiled in a way that made Colin clench his jaw with sudden desire. “Who is this? I love it. I wish I’d had it while driving through Utah.”
“Hermanos Gutiérrez. ‘Hijos del Sol’ is the song.” He had to swallow a couple of times to get the words out without his voice cracking. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
Or, the best idea he’d ever had.
“I always was a sucker for a slide guitar and that high lonesome sound,” she continued. “Even back in Iowa, when I was a little kid and it wasn’t cool.”
Colin grinned. “I can’t imagine you not being cool.”
Maren laughed. “This,” she gestured at her body—her gorgeous body that Colin wanted to hold close, even just once—“is not cool.”
“What are you talking about?”
Maren rolled her eyes. “What are you talking about? I’m a mom.” She grimaced. “Well, an aunt, raising her niece. But I might as well be a mom, and moms aren’t cool.” She sounded down for the first time that day.
It killed him.
“Come here.” He offered his hand.
Maren gave him a puzzled frown. “What?”
“Just come here.” Colin grinned. “Dance with me.”
“Dance with you? Really?”
“Yeah really.”
Grinning, she placed her hand in his, and his whole body registered the contact like he’d been waiting all day for it. Colin pulled Maren in close and slid his other hand around her waist. They started slowly swaying to the music.
“This is silly,” Maren murmured so quietly Colin almost didn’t hear her.
“What’s silly about it?” he asked, tipping her head up. “I’m just showing you how cool I think you are.”
Maren laughed and shook her head but didn’t pull away.
Small victories.
“I don’t think I’ve danced with anyone since senior prom,” she said.
“See? You were cool enough to go to senior prom. I wasn’t.”
She looked into his face. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all. The girl I asked turned me down.”
“She did not.”
He nodded. “She did.”
“And you didn’t ask anyone else?”
“No way. A boy can only stand so much heartbreak. I had to recover by eating half a pizza and pretending I didn’t care.”
“Did you care?”
He thought about that seventeen-year-old version of himself for the first time in years. Skinny. Angry. All elbows and ambition. Desperate to get out of town and be someone nobody could look down on.
“Nah,” he said. “Not much.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, she was an idiot.”
His chest warmed.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Colin chuckled. “Honestly, it doesn’t bother me. I’m pretty happy where I ended up.” He gave Maren’s waist a squeeze.
Her breath caught.
Dammit.
He shouldn’t have said it. Not like that. Not with her body close and the house quiet and her daughter—niece, he corrected himself even though the word never sat quite right—safe and happy with people who already loved her.
Maren looked up at him. Her eyes became a little dreamy as she rested her cheek against his chest, just over his heart. Colin stopped moving for half a beat.
Careful.
His arm tightened around her waist anyway. He remembered how to breathe and kept swaying with her in the middle of the safehouse living room while late-afternoon light stretched longer and longer across the floor.
One song became another.
Then another.
Neither of them mentioned stopping.
Maren relaxed against him, her hand resting on his shoulder, her fingers absently stroking the seam of his shirt. Colin felt every pass of her fingertips down to his bones.
God help me.
Maren sighed.
“Is everything all right?”
She gave a quick laugh that didn’t sound like her. “It’s been a while since anyone…”
“Since anyone what?”
“Since anyone touched me like this.” Maren’s cheeks flushed. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Probably not,” he agreed.
“It’s a shame. About twenty pounds ago, I had a decent figure.”
Colin stopped. Still holding her, he stared down into her eyes. For one long second, he couldn’t speak.
Then he slid his hand lower, over the curve of her ass, slow enough that she could stop him. She didn’t. Her eyes widened, and her breath caught as he gave her a healthy squeeze.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he said.
“Colin—”
“I like your body the way it is.” He squeezed again, gentler this time, but with enough intent that there was no mistaking him.
Her lips parted.
He squeezed once more. “Very.”
Her fingers tightened on his shoulder.
“Much.”
A shaky laugh escaped her. “You don’t have to say that.”
“No, I don’t. I mean it, Maren.”
She searched his face like she was trying to find the catch. Her voice came out quiet. “I’m not used to being looked at like this, either.”
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like I’m…” She swallowed. “Like I’m wanted.”
“Maren.”
He lifted his hand to her face. His thumb moved against her cheek, a slow pass he hadn’t given himself permission to do and couldn’t seem to stop.
“If you don’t want this, tell me to stop, Maren. Right now, or I won’t be able to.”
“I don’t want you to stop.” No hesitation.
He searched her eyes to see if she was lying, or was afraid to say no.
“It’s been a perfect day, Colin, and I’m not ready for it to end.”
He leaned in and kissed her, a soft brush against her mouth, then another as her lips parted. He pulled back to look at her.
Maren’s eyes were still closed. When she opened them, she looked exactly the way he felt.
Her phone buzzed loudly in her purse on the couch. They both jumped as if they’d been caught.
Maren laughed nervously as she pulled away. “It’s probably Shane bringing Juni back.”
“Right.” Colin took a deep breath to get himself under control while Maren dug out her phone.
“It’s Arden,” she said just before connecting.
“Hi, Arden, what’s up?” She paused. “Out of breath? No, I um…” her cheeks flushed.
“Maybe a little; I was outside and my purse was in here and I might have jogged in.” As she spoke, she bent at the waist, trying not to laugh.
Her hilarity was infectious, and Colin found he was trying to hold back a laugh as well.
“Dinner plans? Well, we hadn’t thought about…
Oh, that’s… Sure.” She stole a look at Colin.
“Sure, we’d love to.” She closed her eyes and cringed. “Okay, great. We’ll come right up.”
Maren disconnected and dropped her phone back into her purse. “Arden figured since we’d been in town all day, we probably didn’t have anything planned for dinner, and I haven’t seen the ranch yet…”
“You sound like you’re apologizing.”
“I’m not. I don’t think?” She covered her face and laughed. “Absurd,” she said behind her fingers.
“Maren. It’s all right.” Colin carefully pulled her hands down and held them. “We’ll go.”
Shane’s SUV pulled up just then. They both looked out the window as Colin dropped her hands.
“I heard a text while I was on the phone.” She sighed. “Back to reality, such as it is.” She looked at Colin again, with an expression that said, If only…
It shouldn’t have made Colin feel this good.