Chapter Seven
Gabe found Carson in the security office, hunched over the bank of monitors, gripping a coffee mug that had seen better days.
Gabe knocked hesitantly on the doorjamb. Carson looked up and waved him in.
He dropped into the chair across the desk and studied the man. He was military neat, as always, but the lines around his eyes spoke of too little sleep.
“Rough night?”
Carson nodded. “CJ’s got his hours switched around. Layne took the first shift. I took the second, which means I’ve been up since…” He glanced at his phone on the desk. “Three o’clock.”
“Doesn’t sound like there’s enough coffee for a night like that.”
He smiled as he shook his head. Reminded of the drink at his elbow, he lifted the mug and sipped. When he set it down, he looked over Gabe. “Tell me what’s going on at Felicity’s house.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Nothing. Ran the footage from her doorbell cam and two others that Gray set up when Honor’s ex was stalking her.”
Carson’s lips tightened. “Good thing they were already in place.”
“Yeah. There wasn’t a single sign of anyone trying to force the lock or enter through a window. No weird vehicles caught either. Just a notification that someone was at the door, then video that they ran off when she spoke to them through the intercom.”
Carson grunted. “Clean.”
“Too clean.” That was what bothered him. Whoever had broken into Felicity’s shop left a mess. Whoever walked up on her porch had been careful. “If they were testing her security, they did a damn good job staying off the radar till the last minute.”
Carson rocked a little in his seat like the motion would help him think. “House was secure when you went through it?”
“Every lock engaged. Doors solid.” He’d checked each one twice because the idea of someone invading her privacy that way—trashing her home—wasn’t going to happen on his watch.
“Willow told me she stayed the night in the library.”
“Yeah. I just came from there.” His mind flashed to the tray of food and her tucked on the floor, her eyes hazy with sleep and grief and the occasional quick spark of humor. “What’s bothering me is she opened a box of old books. Rare stuff. One of them was from an older guy she was friends with.”
“Was?”
“She thinks he’s dead.”
“Interesting. What makes her think that?”
“One of the books he sent was special to them.” He thought of her clinging to it. “She said he never would have sent it unless he was gone. Plus, he sent a letter and a journal with it.”
Carson expelled a breath through his nose. “I’ll ask to see it.”
“No need. I photographed everything and forwarded the photos to you.”
Carson bobbed his head. “Good instinct.”
He didn’t respond to the praise. To him, he was just doing what any man would do.
“She had her shop wrecked, some unknown jackass on her porch, and she just opened goodbye mail. It’s a lot. So if you don’t need me today, I’d like to help her clean up the shop again. She shouldn’t be alone there.”
Carson’s eyes gleamed. “I’m sure your intentions are strictly professional.”
Gabe cocked a brow at him.
“Just observing that I saw the way you looked at her at the bonfire.”
“Like a concerned friend.” He set the record straight even though he knew it was all a lie.
“Or a man who’d leap through the flames for her.”
“I’m here. I should help.”
“Last people I’d leap through the flames for were brothers-in arms, and Layne. And Felicity sure doesn’t look like your brother.”
Gabe opened his mouth and shut it again. Turning his head toward the window, he watched Crew lead a horse past the barn.
“She…isn’t like other people. She still believes in things.”
“Books and dreams.”
“Exactly.”
“She’s pretty too.”
He issued a rough exhalation, his mind jumping to how she’d looked at him when their hands touched and heat built between them like a live wire.
Carson sobered. “All teasing aside, you should stick close to her. We know weird things happen even in small towns. Better safe than sorry.”
Gabe nodded, the knot in his gut loosening a little. “So you’re good here?”
“I’m good. Go play knight in laundered flannel. Keep your head on a swivel, and if anything feels off, call me.”
He pushed to his feet and started toward the door.
“And Thorne?”
He paused. “Yeah?”
“For what it’s worth, I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Like what?” His chest felt too small to fit his lungs.
“Easier. Happier. Maybe pay attention to that.”
The words followed him out.
He found Felicity in the lodge with Honor, juggling Navy, who was covered in paint from the latest art therapy project. She looked up as he entered, her stare tracking him across the room.
At that moment, Navy spotted him too and let out a squeal. She tipped in Felicity’s lap, making grabby hands to get at him.
With a laugh, he strode over to the table and crouched beside the baby. “Hey, squirt. You painting?”
“Neigh-neigh!”
His gaze met Felicity’s over Navy’s head, and they shared a laugh.
But it felt like they shared more than that. He swore her eyes pooled with a heated intensity that stroked over him.
Navy kicked her feet and reached for him, but Felicity held her firmly by her rounded middle. “She’s covered in paint.”
The toddler went stiff with an impending tantrum.
“Let me take her. I don’t mind the paint.” He held out his hands, and Navy stopped with her mouth midway open on a pending shriek. She threw herself at him, and he scooped her up as Felicity grabbed some wipes to clean off her hands.
As she wiped off the child, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. The delicate upturn of her nose had a small spattering of freckles across the bridge. Her hair wisped away from her face in loose waves that begged for his fingers.
God, he wanted to wrap his arm around her and lay claim to her plump lips.
Navy’s chubby hand splatted on his face. He jerked his gaze away from Felicity to the baby. “Did you just paint me?” he rumbled in mock offense.
Navy squealed, and Felicity burst out laughing. The tinkling sound wove through his rough edges and loosened the threads. He found himself laughing too.
Suddenly, Honor popped up beside her sister. “We paint paper, Navy. Let me take her. I’ll wash her up.”
He handed the baby to Honor but neither he nor Felicity moved. Their gazes locked. Then slowly, she reached toward his face. His gut squeezed when she used a wipe on his face.
Such a silly, stupid thing to get excited over, but there was no running from what Carson already knew—he liked her. A lot. More than a man like him deserved.
He twitched his head toward the exit. “I thought I could help you clean up at the shop. What do you think?”
Her eyes melted into even deeper pools. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I’d like to. If you want me.”
Her breath hitched. For a long heartbeat, neither knew what to say. Finally, she gave a small nod, her lips turning up in a gentle smile. “I do.”
Before he made a complete ass of himself, he led the way to the truck. Then he focused on navigating the familiar road into Willowbrook. When they turned onto Main, the front of her shop came into view, the window display destroyed.
She dragged in a rasping breath. “I swear it looks even worse today.”
“Then we’ll make the inside better.” He turned into the alley leading to the parking lot in back.
They settled to work in the old rhythm of the previous day, sorting books into piles that she began arranging on the shelves. They finished one big bookcase and moved on to the next.
This one didn’t fare as well as the first. Several of the shelves were broken and collapsed on top of each other.
He rolled up his sleeves, aware of Felicity’s stare tracing his movements. “I can fix this.”
Her breaths came faster, and her cheeks dusted with color in a way that made his gut tighten more. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Marine.”
His body was already turning. He took a step closer to her, hovering over her. She gazed up at him, her lips tipped upward, just meant for kissing.
He let out the breath he was holding. “Do you have a hammer?”
“Red toolbox. In the back.” She sounded as if she’d run a marathon.
He forced his legs to move, to walk away from her when everything inside him wanted to yank her flush against him and show her just how amazing she was.
He easily found the toolbox and carried it back to the broken bookcase. She had found some dusting cloths and was busy cleaning the shelves. He set to work removing the broken shelves so he could restabilize them.
“Tell me something about you.” Her quiet command shouldn’t make his pulse leap, but when it came to her, his body didn’t follow any rules.
He huffed a laugh. “What do you want to know?”
“What’s next for you?” She paused in her dusting, hand relaxed on the shelf. “You’re here now, but is this the plan? Are you staying? Drifting?” Her eyes twinkled. “World domination?”
He swung to face her, shrinking the distance between them without even trying. “Honestly? I don’t know.”
Her brows rose a fraction. “You always seem so sure.”
“It was easier when someone handed me orders. In the military, there’s always a next mission, a next objective.
Out here…” He issued a slow breath. “I feel most at home on the ranch. The work makes sense. And the quiet. But beyond that? I’m still trying to figure out who I am when I’m not wearing a uniform. ”
She was silent for a beat, gaze searching his. “It’s okay, Gabe,” she said finally. “It’s okay if the answer isn’t big or impressive. It’s okay to just…be. To do normal life things. Mundane things. You don’t have to save the world every second to matter.”
The words hit him harder than he expected. Everyone always framed his worth in terms of service—what he’d done, who he’d protected—himself included.
She took a step closer, bringing her sweet scent and her freckles and those tantalizing lips closer too.