Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
Colt couldn’t breathe. Hell, he couldn’t think . He tried to be prepared for anything and everything, but this…
Anna had approached him with purpose; he just hadn’t realized what that purpose was until she’d been so close he couldn’t help but recognize the determination on her face.
For a long, wonderful moment she wasn’t his friend’s little sister, a child who’d always wanted to be included and never was, the pest who’d followed them everywhere… or tried. She was just a beautiful woman with magical lips that made everything in the world but this kiss disappear.
Anna was warm and giving, soft and strong. She was alive .
And then it ended. She’d started the kiss; she ended it just as abruptly, breaking contact, dropping her hands and stepping back with a satisfied smile on her beautiful face.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” she said.
Colt’s moment of bliss didn’t fade, it came crashing down around him like a pile of bricks.
Her brother was dead, and he didn’t dare tell her. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t imagine how to put the words together, how to explain. She had no idea about the ability, the curse , that had turned his life upside down and inside out for the past dozen years. There were secrets between them, a darkness he couldn’t explain to her. Anything more than a kiss, no matter how much he wanted it, was impossible.
Jack’s words came back to him, here, now, at the worst possible time.
Don’t you dare fuck my little sister.
If only…
Besides, the only bed in the house behind him had last been slept in by an old deadbeat. The mattress probably had bedbugs. He needed to check for that. The new bed would be delivered soon, but that didn’t matter. Even with a new bed, moving forward with whatever this was, whatever it might be, was a bad idea.
As if they really needed a bed. A mattress wasn’t technically necessary. His mind flashed to Anna naked and beneath him. On the misshapen couch. Against a wall. On the kitchen table. Bad idea, bad idea. He thought of baseball. Cleaning records. Ghosts. Maude. Anything to turn his focus away from what he really wanted.
“Hello?” She waved a hand in front of his face. “Did I break you? I mean, that was a good kiss, but I didn’t expect it would leave you catatonic.”
He didn’t dare tell her he’d been broken long before she’d shown up in his life again.
“You surprised me, that’s all,” he said.
“Was it a good surprise?”
I haven’t decided.
This time he recognized the intent in her expression before she took a step forward. He responded by stepping back.
She looked like he’d slapped her.
“I’m really not looking…” he began. Words stuck in his throat. “I mean, you’re Jack’s baby sister. It would be wrong.”
Anna was easy to read. Anticipation and hope turned to hurt and embarrassment. Her warmth faded. “I haven’t been a baby for a very long time, and Jack is gone. He left all of us, you included, a long time ago. There’s no reason to be skittish. I’m not looking for a husband. Had one of those and it didn’t work out. I don’t need a commitment, I just… I just… I had an itch I thought you might scratch but if you’re not interested…”
Oh, he was interested.
“Forget it,” she said with a wave of her hand.
She turned away and walked down the steps, onto the pathway. When she got to the sidewalk she turned and looked at him, hard, judging, hurt. “I still need your dumpster. I’ll come by with a load on Monday, if that’s okay.”
“Sure.” That was it. Sure . That was all he could manage to say.
She walked away, and he let her.
In the past twelve years he’d slept with plenty of women and not told them what he could do. Not sharing details of his ghostly gift was a lie of omission, but still, a lie. Why couldn’t he continue the tradition with Anna? She wasn’t going to be around much longer, so what difference did it make?
He didn’t know, but there was a difference. In his gut, to the pit of his soul, he felt it. Her brother was dead and he didn’t dare tell her how he knew. Ghosts were everywhere… almost everywhere… and she had no idea. Dammit, Anna was the one woman he didn’t want to lie to.
If it came to that, if he confessed everything, would she react the same way the two women he’d foolishly told had? Of course she would. She’d know he was a freak, and he’d see fear in her eyes instead of lust or caring or maybe even love. She’d bolt, just as the others had.
Colt almost wished Maude was here to talk to, but this house was blessedly ghost free. He was alone. Alone, as he was meant to be.
Well, that was embarrassing.
Anna tossed twenty year old dresses that were much too small for her mother and hopelessly out of style into a box. Every closet in the house was crammed full of clothes that no one would ever again want to wear. Some of the dresses might make good rags. She didn’t have time to study them one at a time and she didn’t dare make the rag suggestion to her mom, so into the boxes they went.
As she’d been trying to decide if she wanted to have sex with Colt or not, it had never occurred to her that he wouldn’t be on board. What was wrong with her? She didn’t buy the baby sister excuse. The truth was, had to be, that he simply didn’t want her. Hell, what was wrong with him ?
She couldn’t come up with a way to make that into a decent country song. At least, not one she’d want anyone to hear. No one wanted to sit back and listen to a song about someone else’s most mortifying moment. Did they? Hmm…
Cold Heart wasn’t the only man in town. She’d find someone else to have that fling with. It would be better to get that out of the way here, since she wasn’t going to stay. In Nashville there were plenty of men to choose from. Some lived nearby. Some she worked with. All of them would be around after the deed was done, and that might be messy. What she needed was a one and done. A complete stranger? No, thanks. Someone she had to see every day? Also no. She needed to get whatever this was out of her system. As she’d told Colt, she wasn’t looking for commitment, she wanted…
What did she want? She wanted to be held. She wanted to be kissed, the way Colt had kissed her before he’d sent her packing. She wanted to be touched. Did she even remember what a proper orgasm felt like? Not really. It had been a while.
She kept telling people she was happy to be alone, but that was a lie.
Tuck? Sawyer? Both good-looking guys, for sure, but when she’d looked at them her insides hadn’t reacted the way they did when Colt was around. She really did have bad taste in men. The one she was drawn to wouldn’t give her the time of day.
It was after nine when the doorbell rang. Anna didn’t stop her work. Her mom was still organizing spices, for some reason, and the kitchen was much closer to the front door than this spare room upstairs. The spices were all expired, and most of the bottles were at least half empty. Some had nothing more than dregs, but according to her mother they were good dregs. At this point Anna wanted to toss everything and move on, but Nina was determined to save everything she possibly could. Even a quarter teaspoon of five year old oregano at the bottom of a jar.
If Colt was at the door, looking to change his mind or apologize, she didn’t want to see him. Too late, buddy. Adios. You had your chance and you blew it. How would she explain that to her mother?
Sure enough, Anna’s name echoed up the stairs. She didn’t immediately respond. That call came again, and this time it sounded more urgent.
Anna went to the doorway and stuck her head into the hall. She was not going to run downstairs and talk to Colt. She would not answer when called, like an obedient and needy pet. “I’m busy! What is it?”
Nina stood at the foot of the stairs. She looked concerned, almost the same way she had when Jack had disappeared. “There’s, uh, someone here to see you.”
“Tell them to come back.”
Nina shook her head. “I can’t do that.” She glanced to the side, into the living room, and then hissed, “It’s the police.”
Her first thought was Jack. The second… something had happened to Colt. Her heart skipped a beat and her shoulders stiffened, but she soon dismissed that idea. If Colt was hurt or in trouble, why would anyone come to her?
There was only one way to find out what the police wanted with her.
Anna brushed off her t-shirt and scurried down the stairs and past her mother, who almost blocked the way. She took a turn into the living room, and there he was.
She remembered all the Seawolf Beach police officers being either old, as in past retirement age old, or else super young and enthusiastic. This guy, the man she’d glimpsed in his squad car that afternoon, was neither. He was clean-cut, muscular, and good-looking, with narrowed eyes that studied everything as if there was going to be a test later.
Nina moved into the room. “Anna, this is Chief Maxwell. Everyone calls him Mac, but maybe if he’s here on police business you should call him Chief.” She looked at Anna and lowered her voice. “What have you done?”
The chief — she couldn’t bring herself to call him Mac, not even mentally — stepped toward them. There was no smile, no friendly greeting. Jack or Colt? Which one brought this man into the house? He looked at Anna with those narrowed eyes. “Ma’am, can we have a moment alone?”
Colt, then. If the news was about Jack he’d want their mother to hear the news. Was he hurt? Dead? Yeah, she was mad at him at the moment, but he was still Coltrane Hart. She didn’t want him to be hurt or dead or…
“I’ll go upstairs and look through those dresses you’re packing away to donate,” Nina said. “There might be a few I want to keep.”
Well, shit.
“Call if you need me,” she added before heading for the stairway.
When they were alone the chief gestured for Anna to sit on the couch. She felt the need to remind him that this was her house, not his, so she gestured for him to sit. That got a glimmer of a smile from him, before he lowered himself into a wing chair across from the couch.
Anna took a seat on the couch, facing him. Her heart started pounding. She needed to know why he was here, but at the same time she didn’t want to know. Something was wrong! What? Who?
She had the comforting thought that maybe her ex was dead and the chief been tasked with informing her.
“You were at the antique shop downtown this afternoon, I hear,” he said. “Treasures Past.”
Not what she’d expected. “I was.”
“You saw and spoke to Nicole Woodward?”
“Yes.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Can I ask why?” she repeated.
He didn’t skip a beat. “Not just yet.”
At least it wasn’t bad news about Colt. “Nicole is selling some of my mother’s things on consignment. I stopped by to see if anything had sold, and ask if she’d take more.”
“How did that discussion go?”
“We got a little off track and it ended up being more of a social call.” She saw no need to tell him they’d finished their conversation talking about getting laid.
He flipped open a small notebook that fit in the palm of his hand. “What time was this?”
She gave him her best estimate.
“Was there anyone else in the store while you were there?”
“A couple of tourists. They seemed to be just browsing.”
“Describe them?”
The description she offered was generic, but he wrote down every word. Anna’s curiosity grew with every passing second. This couldn’t be good.
Maxwell flipped his notebook closed and leaned back in his chair. At that moment he looked dangerous, like a snake waiting to strike, like a man with bad intentions.
Just minutes ago she’d been looking for a man, someone other than Colt, but she was pretty sure she couldn’t handle this one.
“What kind of relationship did you have with Nicole?”
Did you have, not do you have. “I… I… I barely know her. She’s selling some of my mother’s old things, as I said. That’s it.”
“But you mentioned that this afternoon’s visit turned social. What did you two talk about?”
She considered lying, but this was beginning to look serious. “Nicole wanted to know if I was involved with a man we both know. I assured her I was not.”
He nodded, then of course he asked. “What man is this?”
“Coltrane Hart.”
Maxwell almost smiled. “Coltrane. That’s Colt’s name?” He shook off the smile. “Never mind. Not important. So, you left the antique store. The tourist couple was still there?”
“Yes.”
He asked again about the time, who she saw on the sidewalk, where she went after she left Treasures Past.
“I walked to Colt’s rental house on Pine Street. He’s moving in this…”
Maxwell stopped her with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, I know, I’ve gotta help him move some of his stuff tomorrow. Though now it looks like I might not have the time. How long did you stay with Colt?”
Not long enough…
“Just a few minutes.”
“What did you talk about?”
“His dumpster.” Among other things… “Chief Maxwell, what is this about? Is Nicole okay?” Her heart leapt into her throat. She knew the answer before it came.
He didn’t hesitate or pull any punches. “Sadly, she is not at all okay. I shouldn’t say anything but everyone will know soon enough. The Sheriff isn’t exactly subtle. Every blue light in the county is currently flashing in downtown Seawolf Beach.”
That did not sound good.
The chief looked at her hard, catching her eye in a way that was probing and unflinching. “Nicole Woodward is dead. She was murdered this afternoon. Still waiting on forensics, but it looks as if you and the tourists no one else saw were the last ones to see her alive.”