Chapter Eleven
Blake was holding Bruce so that the boy was facing Liam. He started to babble, waving a toy in his hand, but neither adult was in a playful mood.
Liam didn’t understand why Blake had shown up to his house with Bruce at night after a week of silence. There was also no diaper bag with her. Like she’d had to come there in a hurry.
Her statement definitely wasn’t making him feel at ease.
What had gone wrong?
“What am I not going to like?” Liam asked.
Green eyes were locked on him and him only, but the sigh that escaped Blake’s lips seemed to be for the entire world. She held up her free hand in a Stop gesture.
“Before you go scolding me, let me get everything out first, and then you have carte blanche on telling me I’m wrong. Okay?”
Liam felt his eyes narrow. He nodded still.
“Okay.”
There was no more sighing after that. Blake dove in and didn’t stop once.
“I know you said you’d handle it by yourself, but I’ve spent the last week looking for Missy’s laptop, and I think I have a bead on it.
After I started thinking about it and how this town really doesn’t seem to be on your side about looking into Missy’s death, I decided that I could at least just poke around a little to see if I could get something you couldn’t.
Specifically about the laptop. Since I don’t know what all you’ve done in the primary investigation, I went to the coffee shop and heard that your talk with Missy’s ex was less than helpful. ”
Kyle Langdon, Missy Clearwater’s ex-boyfriend.
“Less than helpful” was an understatement.
Liam had interviewed Missy’s ex and had been thoroughly ticked at his behavior.
Kyle had shown signs of being truly upset at her death but seemed to have no remorse for the possibility that his cheating scandal with Missy’s best friend had contributed to her supposed leap off the haunted bridge.
The man had instead acted as if he had done nothing wrong at all.
“We broke up for the greater good,” was what he had said when Liam asked about the breakup. “Some things you just can’t see eye to eye on, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
It had been an off-putting response.
If Kyle hadn’t had an airtight alibi of working at the steel mill during the window of time surrounding Missy’s death, with security footage to confirm it, Liam would have bet money that he had been out on the bridge with Missy.
The same went for Missy’s former best friend, Miranda.
She had said only a few words to Liam, and of those words, none of them had been regret or guilt.
They were sorry Missy had died, but they didn’t believe their actions had had anything to do with it.
“Kyle doesn’t know me,” Blake continued. “So when I casually bumped into him and mentioned I had just moved to town, he got really chatty and weirdly accepting. That led to him inviting me out tomorrow. He was shooting for dinner, I switched it to afternoon coffee.”
Liam broke his deal and broke his silence.
“You’re not going.”
Liam heard the hammer drop in his own words.
Blake paused at it. Green eyes searched his expression. It gave him enough time to edit himself.
“I don’t like that man,” he said, trying not to physically bristle at the idea. “There’s something about him that rubs me the wrong way. Also inviting someone he just met out to dinner? That’s another mark against him in my opinion.”
Blake’s eyebrow rose up.
“Didn’t I ask you out and you agreed to dinner right after we met?”
Liam didn’t have to think even once on that one.
“We’re different,” he defended. “This Kyle guy isn’t me or you. I don’t want you to go out with him.”
He meant every word of what he said, Liam realized. He didn’t like the idea of Blake sitting across from the man, dressed nice and smiling. It grated on him.
Blake blew out a huff. Bruce caught her finger as she tried to motion to him.
“That’s why I’m here,” she said. “I want to be bait. I figure we can do the same thing we did with Cassandra at the coffee shop. I’ll sit down with him, ask a few questions, and then you can swoop in.”
“Swoop in,” he repeated. “I doubt he’ll tell me anything else, even if you’re there.”
She shook her head.
“No, I mean swoop in to take me away. Not try to talk to him again.”
It was such a simple request and she said it with such ease.
“I’ll take you away,” he repeated again.
Blake was unfazed.
“Yeah, but do it in a way that doesn’t make him think we trapped him,” she added. “Maybe don’t wear the badge. Just, you know, come over and say we have plans later, and I’ll just go with you. Like we have a date or something.”
Liam’s eyebrow went high of its own volition.
For the first time since they had met, Liam thought he saw the woman’s cheeks start to tint red.
She cleared her throat.
“Or, you know, I can come up with something on my own. It’s no biggie, I can—”
Liam cut her off.
“I’ll be there. Don’t worry.”
She cut eye contact with him and cleared her throat again. If he hadn’t been looking at her so intently, he wouldn’t have noticed her flinch. For a second, he thought it was because of their conversation. Then he really took a good look at her.
She was tired. More pale than usual. Even standing still there was an uncomfortable slant to her.
“Something’s wrong with you. What is it?” Liam nodded toward her. “You’re hurting somewhere. Where? Don’t lie. I can tell.”
Blake motioned to her head. Bruce’s finger, still wrapped around hers, went with it.
“My head,” she said. “We were actually at the store for some sinus meds and ran into Price on his way home. Then I became impulsive and decided to show up here. Price, quite easily I might add, gave up your address with no questions asked. You might want to have a chat with him about that.”
Liam had no doubt that the man had a soft spot for Blake, and if it had been just anybody, the information wouldn’t have come out.
“Which, by the way, I’m going to go ahead and grab and take home now,” Blake added. “Since I have officially intruded and we’ve officially come up with a plan, it’s time to go home and see if I can’t attempt some kind of supper.”
The smile looked as tired as she sounded. It was almost the same expression she’d been wearing while sitting in the sheriff’s office after Ray and Chase had gone after her.
The McClennan cousins and the same questions came to mind again.
Had they been going after him and gotten her instead? Or had they gone after her trying to shake him?
Coincidence?
Accident?
A poorly laid out plan?
A feeling of protectiveness pushed through him so fast that he didn’t have time to think about his words until they were already out there between them.
“I can cook.”
HOURS LATER AND all Blake could think was that life sure was a blur.
Next to her in bed was none other than the sheriff of Seven Roads. If she had been a shier woman, she wouldn’t have pointed out the oddness. Instead, she snorted and said exactly what was on her mind.
“Had you asked me who would be the first man to share my bed since coming back to Seven Roads, I don’t think its sheriff would even be in the top ten of my guesses.”
Blake was wearing an oversized baseball T-shirt that read Kelby Creek Fighters and a pair of extremely unattractive flannel sleep shorts.
Her wet hair was sloppy in its short braid, and she knew from a hesitant glance in the mirror before getting into bed that her face was pale and flushed all at once.
Her sinus issue had revealed itself to be more of a cold.
Before that realization, though, Liam had insisted on following them home to cook.
She had started running a fever before Liam had even started making dinner.
It had given her enough time to switch to the right medicine and to also let Lola know how normal this was.
Liam was there as an investigative partner.
An acquaintance that had been in the trenches with her during their field escapade.
A friend?
Blake wasn’t sure why she couldn’t bring herself to label the man as that.
After all, would she let someone less than that into her home? Into her bed?
She glanced over at the man in question. He was sitting next to her with a children’s pink plastic desk between them. On its top was an empty bowl of chicken noodle soup.
If he was offended by her joke, he didn’t show it. Instead, he actually lobbed one back.
“Funny, I thought this was exactly how I was going to spend my first bedroom experience with the opposite sex after my divorce.”
Blake let her mouth hang open for a second. He laughed after seeing her expression.
“What? You didn’t expect the quiet guy to make a divorce joke?”
Blake couldn’t help herself.
“No,” she admitted. “I’m still getting used to hearing you say more than one or two words at a time, and now you’re getting personal? Maybe the cold meds are making me hallucinate.”
Liam rolled his eyes, but there was a good-naturedness to it.
He pointed to the covers that had shifted off her when reaching for the TV remote.
Wordlessly, Blake pulled it back up and over her lap.
Surprisingly, or maybe not, Liam had been quick to take on a mothering roll once he realized she was sick.
He’d been fussing after her worse than Lola.
“Stay warm and I’ll talk your head off.”
Blake wasn’t a woman who liked taking any kind of orders but, as Lola had stated during their earlier, very quiet conversation. “If this good-looking man is here to worry about you and cook for you, don’t spit in the face of that blessing.”
So Blake listened to him. When he told her to shower, eat, stay warm, and now when he was on her again about the blanket she kept throwing off.
“Fine,” she said. “But give me some backstory on you. And make it something good that would make the rumor mill go wild if they heard it instead of me. Tell me about your life before Seven Roads.”
Liam settled back on the headboard, crossed his arms over his chest and stretched his long legs out. There was something slightly endearing about seeing that he wore socks with patterns on them. The pair he had on had little golf flags across them.
“You’re not the first person to get a little grouchy with me when I’m telling you what to do when you’re sick,” he started, humor in his voice. “My unit used to call me the Mother Hen.”
“Mother Hen?”
Blake felt the movement of his nod.
“I had a tendency to take care of everyone when they were sick. Even when they didn’t want it. I ‘made a fuss,’ but instead of being a pretty woman, I was treating grown men like little kids.” He chuckled. “They were equally grateful and annoyed. Hence the Mother Hen nickname.”
Blake heard the pretty comment but latched onto the overall point he’d made.
“Oh, so this little production isn’t rare, huh?” She motioned to the empty bowl between them on the desk. “And here I thought the sheriff was giving me special treatment.”
Liam played ball with the joke with startling speed.
“The food is the standard package, but the served-in-bed portion is definitely on the secret menu. Morning service has to be ordered separately.”
The heat that ran up Blake’s neck was fast. It pooled in her cheeks. She was glad, at least, that she could blame the flush on her fever.
“You might not talk a lot, but you sure know what to say when you do,” she returned. “That sweet-talking must get all the ladies.”
At this, Liam didn’t laugh. Blake peeked over at him, worried she had offended him somehow. He was staring right at her. There was a tilt to his head. Almost like a curiosity.
“I don’t think I’ve sweet-talked anyone since the beginning of my marriage. And even then, it wasn’t like this.”
Blake felt like a parrot the more she spoke with Liam.
“Like this?”
The world went slow for a bit. Liam kept her gaze, then it started searching. She knew he went from her eyes to her lips then to her brow. After that, she lost track. He was tracing her, maybe looking for something? But what?
He opened his mouth—to answer her, right?—but the next sound that came out was from the bedroom door.
“Excuse me.”
Blake nearly jumped. Lola was standing in the doorway, all apologetic with her smile. The little girl behind her leg was peeking out, all shy.
“I hate to interrupt, but Clem wants you,” the older woman said. She looked at Liam. “Our Blake here started a dangerous trend. When this one doesn’t want to sleep, the two of them watch TV in bed for a bit. We call it wind-down time.”
Blake was immediately defensive.
“Hey, not all of us can sleep like logs, like you and Bruce,” she said. “I personally think it’s smart of me and Clem to partner up on a different path sometimes. Isn’t that right, Clem?”
She might be a quiet four, but Clem was always vocal about their occasional late-night TV time.
“Yeah!” she exclaimed. Her hair bounced along with her little hop of excitement. After that she was nothing but speed. Liam barely had enough time to move the desk from the middle of the bed as Clem rocketed herself up and into space in the middle of them.
Lola’s smile fell. Concern, fast and deep, lined her frown.
“I can come back and get her in a little bit,” she offered.
Blake shook her head.
“You can head to bed. I’ve got her.”
Lola was silent a moment. Clem didn’t hesitate, becoming a drill and burrowing under the blanket.
“Are you sure?” Lola added.
“I’m sure. I already feel way better thanks to the meds and food.” Blake thumbed over at the sheriff. “Worst case, Mother Hen here can give me a hand if I need it.”
Liam was fast.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll make sure they’re good.”
Lola didn’t fight the offer. During the last week, she had continued to talk about his heroics in the field and, now that he had cooked for them and had clearly been accepted by Clem?
Blake had a feeling she’d be singing Liam’s praises for a good while.
Lola told him thank you and wished them a good-night before leaving.
Blake waited a few seconds before whispering to the man at her side.
“You don’t have to stick around,” Blake tried. “We’re just going to watch some TV.”
“I don’t mind sticking around a little longer.” He notably paused. “Unless you want some space.”
Blake didn’t.
Not from him.
An acquaintance my tushy, she couldn’t help but think.
But instead she said, “You can stay.”
Liam took the remote off the nightstand next to him. He said only one word next, but it was enough to make the heat in her cheeks grow warmer again.
“Good.”