Colton's Secret Investigation

by Justine Davis

  It had been a rather tight smile, however, and he knew she was still processing. Driven by an urge he didn’t even try to resist, and despite the twinge in his side, he bent down and rather blatantly planted a kiss on her cheek. In front of all of them. As if he were staking his claim in front of the family she had just gained. As, perhaps, he was.

  He lingered there for a moment and whispered, “I’ll stay if you need me, but some alone time might be good.”

  “Go to Sam,” she whispered back. “I won’t be long.”

  So she wasn’t going to linger, let them throw a party for her since everyone was already here. No, his Daria would want time to process this revelation, and he would see to it that she got it.

  Even if he had to enlist the help of someone who knew quite well what it was like to have your entire life turned upside down.

  He found the game room, and Sam engrossed in driving a race car over some very unlikely terrain. Having learned by now, he waited until the inevitable crash, then sat down beside the boy.

  “Can you pause for a minute? I need your help. For Daria.”

  That startled Sam enough that he immediately put down the controller. “What?” he asked, sounding anxious. “Is she all right?”

  “She will be, I think. But do you remember how you felt when your whole life got blasted apart and you had to come here?”

  “Yeah,” Sam said, watching him warily. Then, with a frown, he added, “You’re not sending me back now, are you?”

  He reached out and gripped the boy’s shoulder. “Not a chance. You’re mine for good, buddy, and even if your mother wanted you back, I’d fight her.”

  The shy smile that curved his son’s mouth made the dull ache in his side recede.

  “What about Daria?” Sam asked, sounding anxious.

  “Well, her whole life just got upended, like yours did. So we need to take extra-special care of her for a while. Can you help me with that?”

  “We’re still gonna stay with her while you get better?”

  “Yes. It’s just now...she and I both need to heal a bit. So we’ll need your help.”

  This seemed to intrigue the boy, and he drew himself up straight. “I can do it,” he announced.

  For a moment Stefan felt a surge of wonder that Leah hadn’t managed to cripple the boy’s generous heart. And a bigger surge of gratitude that Daria had come into their lives and shone a light on the path to where they were now. That his relationship with Sam had improved so much so fast was, he knew, entirely due to her.

  “I know you can,” he said softly, this time running a hand over Sam’s close-cropped curls. The boy ducked his head but didn’t pull away.

  It was approaching dark by the time the three of them left the Manor. Stefan had offered to drive, but Daria said the distraction of having to focus on driving would help her. She didn’t talk, so Stefan instead sat and savored the image of Sam immediately going to her and taking her hand and assuring her everything would be all right. He didn’t think he’d mistaken the sheen of moisture in her eyes. That those eyes had stayed calm and assessing while her entire life changed before them, yet teared up at soft words from his son, made him ache inside in a way he could barely fathom.

  When they got to her place, there was just enough light for Sam to excitedly explore a little bit. And it had been all Stefan could do not to laugh when his son had solemnly broached the idea that maybe he should skip school tomorrow. “To take care of you and Daria.”

  And he wondered how bad a father it made him when he gave in and agreed the boy could stay home. And if he was crazy for, when he said the word home, thinking of this place, not his own.

  “They won’t be surprised when he doesn’t come to school,” Daria said as Sam ran off to unpack the bag she’d brought for him in the bedroom she’d shown him to, the one with the view of the backyard and tree platform, which Stefan knew he wanted to climb up to the first chance he got. “I’m sure it’s all over the news that we broke the case.”

  “And that I managed to get myself shot in the process?” he suggested dryly.

  Her brow furrowed. “If I could only have gotten him—”

  “Stop. Right there.” He’d been about to sit down but instead turned and grabbed her before she could finish the sentence. “You did great. Spectacular, in fact. I’m the one who pushed my luck and risked being spotted for a glimpse inside the place.”

  He was glad when her arms came around him, didn’t even care when she brushed his wound and he felt a twinge. They’d done it, at last. Solved that damned case. The relief was staggering.

  Then a small gasp escaped her. “Your parents! What if they heard? It’s probably national headlines by now.”

  “I called them on my way to get Sam.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  Her worry about them nearly sent his emotions spiraling out of control; she’d hadn’t even met them yet, but they were connected to him and so she cared. The enormity of what he’d found with her was truly beginning to sink in.

  “Daria.”

  She tilted her head back. And for a moment, as those stunning golden-brown eyes looked up at him, he completely lost the power of speech. So he kissed her instead, trying to put the words he couldn’t find into it. He poured everything he was feeling into that lip-lock and ended up setting them both on fire.

  “Wow,” she said, sounding a bit wobbly when at last he broke the kiss. “That was...”

  “That,” he said carefully, “was because for a moment I couldn’t find the words.”

  “I’m not sure mere words could match that. But what words?”

  “I love you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Stefan,” she began.

  He shook his head. “I don’t expect it back, not now, not when your whole life’s been upended. But... I needed you to know.”

  She said his name again, softly, and hugged him. Hung on as if he were the only thing holding her in place.

  “Do you really know somebody with that cabin with no cell or internet?” he asked after a moment.

  “Yes.”

  “Does it have a bed?”

  He heard the smile in her voice as she again said, “Yes.”

  “Can we borrow it?”

  “I’m sure we could.” But then she pulled back sharply. Looked down at his side. “You’re bleeding!”

  He’d been vaguely aware of the dampness for a bit now but hadn’t let it stop him, since that’s all it was. “Seeping, I think. They said it would happen.”

  “We need to clean that up right now. And get you into something more comfortable.”

  “Naked’s comfortable,” he said in mock thoughtfulness.

  She gave him an arch look. “You’re in no condition—”

  He pulled her back close. “I’d have to be dead not to want you.”

  This time she stayed there, and he thought in that moment, with her in his arms and his son down the hall, life was as close to perfect as it had ever been.

  Chapter 35

  Three days. They’d had three days of peace and perfection, and Daria couldn’t seem to stop smiling. The house that she had at first hesitated to buy because it was bigger than she alone needed was suddenly the perfect size. The weather outside was perfect, chilly but crystal clear. The warmth inside was perfect, with Stefan and Sam sitting at her table on this Saturday morning, the boy chattering excitedly about going outside as soon as he finished the French toast she’d fixed especially for him, because he’d once told her it was his favorite.

  Even the ache inside her was perfect, because it was only there because of how full her heart was.

  The day after Stefan had been released from the hospital had been a marvel of being together for all three of them. Sam had delighted in his explorations of her vast yard while she and Stefan, still taking it easy, had watched, arm in
arm, both smiling so broadly it almost hurt. Waking up to the news that not only had Trey won his election, he’d won it handily, had been the icing on the cake.

  “Thank you,” her boss had said in a call just after the seasonally late sunrise. “It could easily have gone the other way if you hadn’t wrapped up Shruggs when you did.”

  Daria had laughed. “I think you underestimate the respect you’ve built. But you’re welcome anyway, if it did help.”

  “You always have had great timing,” Trey had joked, and it had done her heart good to hear the lightness in his voice. “Now take a few days for yourself. You’ve earned it.”

  Normally she would have declined the offer, preferring to work. But not now. Now, she wanted to savor every second of together with the two men in her life.

  “I will,” she told him. “And when I come back, I’ll need a few minutes with you for...something else.”

  “You can have my whole day,” Trey had said, and she could almost see him grinning.

  And when she’d hung up, it was to find Stefan grinning at her. “Gonna tell him you’re his aunt?”

  She rolled her eyes at him, then sighed. She had realized that particular connection somewhat belatedly, and while she had felt very strange about it, Stefan had only laughed.

  “I hope that doesn’t overly complicate things,” she said.

  “You broke the Avalanche Killer case. I think nobody’s going to care.”

  “We.”

  His grin had widened at that. And he’d kissed her rather urgently; he’d clearly been feeling much better already.

  Sam had only very reluctantly gone back to school the next day, although the excitement of his grandparents arriving this weekend was a distraction. And she decided she would sort out the tangle of actually being a Colton by blood—albeit a very different branch than her adoptive one—eventually. She didn’t need or want the rich connections, but maybe she would take the name back. Eventually.

  And come Sunday—God help her, tomorrow—she would meet the parents. Stefan’s mother and father had already assumed epic proportions in her mind, and she was having to make an effort not to be intimidated.

  Chastising herself for her nerves, given that it had to be a lot more momentous for Sam, she put that aside and tried to savor the day. She had hours of peace and quiet coming to her, and she was going to take them. She had the two people she had come to treasure under her roof, and she was going to enjoy that. She wanted to savor this perfection and didn’t want anything to change the way she felt at this moment in time.

  All brought on by three little words. I love you.

  That night Stefan steamrollered her protests about his injury as if intent on proving the truth of those words—and that he was physically fine, more than fine—driving her body to new heights with a fierce intensity that she supposed was born of having escaped an injury that could have been much worse. If this was what getting shot and surviving did to you, no wonder some people became danger junkies.

  And in the quiet aftermath she returned the words, although she had to work up to it.

  “I hope your parents like me,” she said quietly into the dark.

  “They will.”

  “That’s good. Because otherwise it’s going to be awkward when I tell them how much I love their son.”

  Stefan went very still beside her. She heard him swallow, as if his throat was tight. “You think maybe you could tell him first?”

  She lifted up on one elbow. Reached out to cup his cheek. “I suppose I could. I love you, Stefan Roberts. For so many, many reasons.”

  “Even as a...package deal?”

  He sounded slightly hesitant, and it took her a moment to understand. “You mean Sam?” He nodded. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she assured him. “I’m quite enamored of the little charmer he’s become.”

  “That’s good, since it’s thanks to you. He’s crazy about you, too.”

  She smiled, widely, at the admission in that too. But she answered the just now more important part. “Don’t discount yourself in that process. You’ve made great strides together.”

  “Only because you showed me the path,” he insisted gruffly.

  That night, when they both went to tuck Sam in, it was clear the boy was nervous about the imminent arrival of the grandparents he’d never met.

  “They’re going to spoil you rotten,” Stefan told his son.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means that, unlike me, they’ll find you very hard to say no to. Use that power carefully.”

  Sam blinked. “You’re funny, Dad.”

  Daria saw Stefan blink a couple of times, rapidly. It hadn’t been so long ago that Sam never called him Dad—now he always did.

  “He is,” Daria confirmed, saving him from trying to speak just then.

  But then the boy had sighed sadly.

  “I thought you were looking forward to meeting them,” Stefan said, his voice steady enough now.

  “I am. I just... I don’t wanna go back to the other house.” He gave Daria a sideways, shy look. “I wish we could stay here. F’rever.”

  Daria thought her heart would melt at the longing in the boy’s deep brown eyes. “Me, too, Sam,” she whispered.

  She sensed rather than saw Stefan go very still beside her. But he waited until they were back in the living room before he spoke.

  “Did you mean that?” His voice sounded oddly strained, as if he were having to try and keep his emotions in check.

  She didn’t pretend not to understand; they were way past that. She had been happy here, in the nest she’d built. But it had begun to seem much too empty. Until now. “Yes,” she said simply.

  “Daria—” He stopped, swallowed. “Are you sure?”

  “Very. I could give you a string of reasons why it only makes sense,” she said. “I have more room, especially outside for Sam to play. He wouldn’t have to change schools, and you would actually be closer to your office.”

  “All true.” He said it, then stopped, as if he knew there was more. There was, and she said it.

  “But the most important reason is I love both of you, in a way I was afraid I never could. Until now this place has been a...cozy nest for me, but it’s been an empty one. Now it finally feels right.”

  For a moment he just stared at her. But then she was in his arms, and he kissed her until her blood was singing in her ears and her pulse was hammering with all the swirling emotions only this man had ever roused in her.

  “Can I take that as a yes?” she asked when she could breathe again.

  “Daria.” He said her name as if it were the only thing he could get out.

  “I know there’ll be details, and changes—I was thinking we could turn the den into a game room, and I’ve been thinking about moving my office into the sunroom in the back, so if you need an office of your own—”

  He put a finger to her lips to hush her. “I’ll share. I just want to be with you.”

  “Your parents—”

  “Will be fine with it. Once they see us together, they’ll know.”

  “Know?”

  He gave her a slightly crooked smile that made her stomach do a little flip. “That I finally figured it out. And found what they have.” His expression changed slightly. “Fair warning, they’re very traditional. They’re going to ask when we’re getting married.”

  “And what will your answer be?”

  He reached out and ran the back of his fingers lightly over her cheek, as if she were some precious, fragile thing. “I’ll tell them as soon as I can convince you.”

  “I can hardly wait. You do some pretty impressive convincing.”

  He laughed. Daria let the sound wash over her. There was still much to do professionally, first and foremost the still-unsolved murder of Sabrina Gilford. B
ut her personal life had never looked better. And she knew with Stefan’s solid, clearheaded help, she would find her way through the complications of the changes in her self-identity.

  With this man beside her, and with Sam to bring her the kind of delight she’d never dreamed possible, her future was suddenly as bright as the sun on new snow.

  * * *

  Don’t miss the previous volumes in the

  Coltons of Roaring Springs miniseries:

  Colton Cowboy Standoff by Marie Ferrarella

  Colton Under Fire by Cindy Dees

  Colton’s Convenient Bride by Jennifer Morey

  Colton’s Secret Bodyguard by Jane Godman

  A Colton Target by Beverly Long

  Colton’s Covert Baby by Lara Lacombe

  Colton’s Mistaken Identity by Geri Krotow

  The Colton Sheriff by Addison Fox

  Colton on the Run by Anna J. Stewart

  Colton Family Showdown by Regan Black

  Available now from Harlequin Romantic Suspense.

  And don’t miss the thrilling finale to the

  Coltons of Roaring Springs,

  Colton’s Rescue Mission

  by Karen Whiddon,

  Available in December 2019!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Colton 911: Caught in the Crossfire by Linda O. Johnston.

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