The Colton Marine

by Lisa Childs

  But he hadn’t felt whole again until he’d met Edith. She’d brought out feelings in him he hadn’t felt for a while—protectiveness and desire.

  “No, I haven’t gone it alone,” River agreed. But he was thinking about her—not the Corps’ shrink. After what she’d gone through with her mom, she didn’t think she could help anyone, but she had already helped him.

  “So come to work with me,” Josh urged him.

  River was tempted. But the thought of leaving La Bonne Vie...

  Of leaving Edith...

  “I have a job right now,” he said. But he doubted that would last. Edith hadn’t fired him last night, but he had no doubt that she would—once her boss showed up for his visit. So River didn’t have much time left to find all of Livia’s secret rooms and secret records.

  “Yeah, Knox told me you’re working at the estate.”

  “Did you offer him a job, too?” River asked.

  Josh shook his head. “I think there’s a better job out there for Knox.”

  “Sheriff of Shadow Creek?” The one they had was an ineffectual joke, and they’d all been encouraging Knox to run for the office.

  “He told me about your strange feelings around La Bonne Vie—like someone might be hanging around there.”

  River’s blood chilled as he realized who Josh was thinking the intruder might be. He shook his head. “No...she wouldn’t risk coming back here.”

  “She already has,” Josh reminded him. They were all pretty certain she’d killed her grandson’s kidnapper and had visited Leonor in the hospital after her half brother had tried to kill her. He had wound up as dead as the kidnapper. So every time she’d returned someone else had died. If she was back, who would it be this time?

  River glanced at his watch. “I better get to the job I do have now.” And make sure that Edith was safe.

  “Whenever you decide you want it, the security job is all yours,” Josh assured him. “Just make sure you stay alive to take it.”

  River tensed. “You don’t think my mother would actually hurt one of her own children?”

  “Leonor doesn’t,” Josh said. But he obviously didn’t share his fiancée’s faith in his mother-in-law-to-be. “But you and I are more aware of what people are capable of—especially when they’re cornered and desperate.”

  Anything. They were capable of anything at that point. But River wasn’t worried about himself. He was worried about Edith. He didn’t care who saw him as he hurried out of the boutique and back to his truck—and back to La Bonne Vie.

  * * *

  Edith moved slowly around the house, and not just because she was still a little achy from getting flattened onto the concrete a couple nights ago. Guilt weighed heavily on her over how she’d treated River the night before. She had let him kiss her and touch her and then she’d gotten scared and had freaked out on him. He’d left thinking she’d rejected him because of him—because of his injury and his possible PTSD.

  But she’d been more afraid of her own mental state than his. She was afraid of falling—like her mother had—so far and so deep that she wouldn’t be able to function without the man. And maybe her fears were founded because for the first time she felt like she couldn’t function—and it was all because River hadn’t showed up for work yet.

  Was he going to?

  Had he taken her rejection so personally that he’d quit? But if he’d been that upset last night, why would he have checked the house to make sure it was safe, that she was safe? Why wouldn’t he have said that he wasn’t coming back?

  She gasped as a horrible thought occurred to her. What if he’d been hurt on his way back to Uncle Mac’s ranch? He’d seen someone in the fields. What if that someone had just been hiding and waiting for him to circle back to Mac’s?

  As that burden of guilt she’d been carrying grew even heavier, she nearly dropped the vase she was holding. Here she’d been working on the damn inventory while River could be lying out in the fields somewhere, hurt.

  Or even worse...

  She needed to call Uncle Mac and see if he had returned to the ranch last night. Or better yet, she needed to go find River herself—to make sure he was all right. Like he had checked on her last night. And she’d rewarded his chivalry by making him feel bad.

  Tears of regret stung her eyes. And as she blinked them away, she noticed movement in the foyer—a shadow blocking out the sunshine. She dropped the vase, which shattered onto the marble floor.

  “Are you all right?” River asked as he rushed toward her.

  Shards of the porcelain had come quite close to her bare toes. Since she’d been working on inventory, she was wearing flip-flops, shorts and a tank top. Fortunately it had just been a cheap florist’s vase from a display that had dried out years ago. “Yes,” she replied. “You startled me.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have knocked—”

  “No, it’s all right,” she said. And it was now that she knew he was all right. “I was worrying about you.”

  “About me?” he asked. Then his brow lowered, and he groaned. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine—really.”

  “I was worried you weren’t coming back,” she admitted.

  He stared at her for a moment, his left eye narrowed as he studied her face. Did he see how worried she’d been? How much she regretted turning him away the night before?

  She’d lain awake, aching with that emptiness she knew he would have been able to fill. She’d been able to taste him yet on her lips and to feel his hands on her. And her body had pulsed with need.

  She closed her eyes, so he wouldn’t see that need—that hunger. That feeling—that desperate desire—was why she couldn’t get involved with him. She was safer with the other men she’d dated, the ones who hadn’t inspired any deep emotion in her. She was more comfortable with that; she felt safer.

  He chuckled. “I must be more used to rejection than the other guys you’ve turned down,” he told her. “You just stung my pride a little.”

  She opened her eyes to study his face now. She suspected he was downplaying how he’d really felt. She’d hurt more than his pride the night before. “I went farther than just saying no,” she said, “and that was uncalled for. I’m sorry.”

  His broad shoulders moved up and down in a quick shrug. “It’s fine. I get it. You’re not interested.”

  But she was. She was more interested than she’d ever been before. But she couldn’t admit that now. He might reach for her again. He might kiss her.

  Then she opened her mouth because she wanted him to touch her, to kiss her...

  But he reached for a broom instead and began sweeping up the shards of the vase she’d dropped. “You seem a little rattled,” he remarked. “Had you been hearing anything else before I showed up?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Any of those weird noises again?” he asked. “Like the clanging or the creaking?”

  She shook her head. She almost wished she would have. It would have distracted her from thinking about him, from obsessing about him, about how passionately he’d kissed her, about how he’d carried her up those stairs...

  “Did you have that feeling today that you’re not alone?” he asked.

  She bristled slightly at all the questions. “Do you think I’m seeing things?”

  He shook his head. “No. I don’t. I’ve seen things around here, too,” he reminded her. “Like that person on the grounds last night.”

  She shivered. “Are you trying to scare me now?” She’d convinced herself, and Declan, that it had just been an accident. Otherwise Declan probably would have hired security for the estate.

  “Not at all, but I think you’re spending too much time here,” he said. “You got hurt the other night and came right back to work. Yo
u need to take a break. You need to get out of this house.”

  “Why do I feel like you’re trying to get rid of me?”

  He shook his head. “Not at all. I just want you to take a break for a change. We have that dinner tonight, too.”

  “Dinner tonight?” she asked.

  “At Mac’s,” he replied like he thought she knew. “He and Evelyn are cooking. Thorne and Maggie will be there, as well. Maybe even Claudia and Hawk.”

  “Oh,” she said. “It’s a family dinner.”

  He shrugged. “I guess.”

  “I wasn’t invited.”

  He snorted. “Of course you were.”

  She shook her head.

  “You’re family.”

  She shrugged. “I’m not a Colton.”

  “That makes you damn lucky,” he said. “But you’re coming, anyway.” He stepped closer to her, and his one-eyed gaze dipped to her mouth. “As my date.”

  “River...”

  “I know, I know, you’re not interested in a hot mess like me,” he assured her, but he did it with a grin, as if she hadn’t hurt him the night before. “But you need to come as my date, so that I’m not third-wheeling or fifth-or seventh-wheeling—whatever the hell it would be.” He shuddered. “I’m so sick of doing that.”

  “But won’t we give everyone the wrong impression?” she asked. Though it was herself she was worried about—that she might believe he was her date.

  “Do you really care what everyone else thinks?”

  “I’m your boss,” she reminded him, and herself.

  “And you never socialize with your boss?” he asked. All the teasing was gone now. He looked serious and very interested in her reply.

  Did he think she and Declan had more than a professional relationship? They did. They were family.

  But Declan didn’t even want anyone to know she worked for him, so he undoubtedly didn’t want them to know they were foster siblings.

  “We socialize,” she replied.

  A muscle twitched along his tightly clenched jaw, and he nodded. “Okay, then, it’s settled. If you can socialize with him, you can socialize with me. After all, we’re family.”

  But they were not related in any way, nor did she have any sisterly feelings toward him like she had with Declan. She wished she had—then she wouldn’t be so damn attracted to him. Being alone with him so much wasn’t helping, either, especially now after last night, after how they’d nearly made love.

  While earlier she’d been worried about him because he hadn’t showed up yet, now she was worried because he had. She was worried about herself. Her lips tingled for his kisses. And her body heated as desire pumped through it with her blood. She couldn’t work near him as she had been doing.

  If he took off his shirt again...

  Her heart began to pound fast and almost violently. No. She couldn’t stay here with him. Sure, she could probably find some project for him to do outside. But she knew she would wind up watching him through the windows, like she had before.

  She needed some distance from him. And maybe that would help her regain her perspective. Maybe this attraction was only due to proximity.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll go with you tonight.” With that many other people around, she wouldn’t be alone with him. She wouldn’t even have to be close to him.

  “Should we bring anything to it?” he asked.

  He’d inadvertently given her the perfect excuse. “We should bring something,” she agreed. “I’ll go into town and pick up a bottle of wine.” She was already heading up the stairs to change her clothes. “Or maybe some ingredients to make an appetizer or dessert...”

  Just moments later she was changed and ready to leave, but she hesitated at the door and turned back to him. He looked expectant, like he was just waiting for her to go. Waiting for what?

  And had he inadvertently given her the excuse to leave or had he been trying to get rid of her?

  “Take your time,” he urged her. “I’ll just finish up a few projects around here, then go home and clean up for dinner.”

  She nodded in agreement. But she felt strange leaving him alone in the house.

  She had that feeling all over again—like there was something else going on with River Colton, something he didn’t want her to know.

  * * *

  The woman was gone. For the moment...

  She would, no doubt, return—for whatever purpose she served at La Bonne Vie. Inventory?

  Inventory of what? There was nothing left of value in the house, at least not where anyone would be able to find it. Except maybe him...

  River had not left. In fact, the moment the woman’s car had pulled away from the house, he’d come down to the basement. And the clanging of the crowbar and scraping of its end against the stone wall of the wine cellar forewarned how close he was.

  Too close...

  Metal cracked as the lock snapped. Then hinges creaked as the stone door swung open into the secret chamber. Except that it was no longer secret.

  River had found it.

  A shaking hand reached for the gun sitting atop the bureau. It would have been better if the woman had found the room. Killing her would have been easy.

  Killing River wouldn’t be easy. But if he continued his search, it would prove necessary.

  Chapter 13

  River reeled back at the blast...of the damp, musty air escaping through the door he’d just opened.

  “What the hell...” he murmured as he stepped inside the small space. It looked like just another part of the wine cellar, complete with racks and crates. But there were still bottles on the shelves here. He reached out to inspect one, but there was too much dust on the label.

  He didn’t know anything about wine, but he suspected this was where his mother had kept the most valuable vintages. He would have thought she’d have left them out on display. But maybe she hadn’t legally acquired them—like so much else in her life. Like Claudia...

  Edith would be happy about this discovery.

  If he told her.

  How could he tell her without revealing that he’d been snooping around the basement? She would fire him for certain if she knew what his true motivation for working for her was.

  It was no longer his only motivation, though. She motivated him—more than anything or anyone else ever had. But she already worried about him, and probably not just because of his possibly having PTSD.

  His mother was a cold-blooded killer.

  He needed to know who his father was—needed to know if he was like Livia or like Mac or like Jade’s dad...

  So River searched beyond the racks and crates. But there were no records hidden in there. There was another suspicious-looking wall, though.

  Was there another room beyond it? Did each room open onto another? Was the entire basement a maze of secret rooms, maybe secret tunnels?

  His heart began to race with anticipation. If his mother had gone to so much trouble to create so many hiding spaces, she must have hidden plenty down there. Like his paternity.

  He picked up the crowbar and started on the new door. Knowing now where he’d found the last latch, it was easier to find this one. The next door popped open more easily, and when it scraped across the concrete floor, it didn’t disturb a bed of dust like the last one had.

  Nor did he feel a blast of damp, stale air. This room wasn’t as closed up as the last one had been. Nor was it as empty...

  He tightened his grasp on the crowbar. But he really wished he had a gun—because he almost thought he heard the telltale click of one cocking. And if he had, he would have no place to hide before the trigger was pulled...

  * * *

  Edith hadn’t noticed the shop on Main Street before. She must have driven str
aight past it when she’d been staying in town.

  But how could she have missed it? With its brick painted white and its rich caramel-colored trim, it stood out from the darker brick buildings on either side of it. A sign hanging between the first and second stories proclaimed it the Honeysuckle Road.

  Her trip to town had been for wine or food to bring to the dinner party. No. Her trip to town had been to avoid spending any more time alone with River Colton.

  So she might as well spend some time checking out the new boutique. After parking her car down the street, she headed back to the newly white-washed building and pushed open the door. A bell tinkled, announcing her arrival.

  The woman behind the counter glanced up and offered a welcoming smile. She was a petite, black woman who looked vaguely familiar to Edith. Her smile widened with recognition, and her dark eyes sparkled. “Edith,” she exclaimed as she stepped out from behind the counter and approached her. “I’m so glad you stopped by to visit.”

  “I...” Am at a loss. River had her so rattled that she couldn’t immediately place the other woman.

  “Evelyn,” the woman reminded her. “I’m your Uncle Mac’s girlfriend.” Evelyn chuckled. “But I haven’t been a girl for a while.” Her skin was so smooth and flawless, she looked closer to Edith’s twenty-seven years than Mac’s fifty-six, though.

  “You’re a hottie and you know it or Mac wouldn’t be so crazy about you,” teased another woman who stepped out from behind a rack where she’d been hanging clothes. She was tall with ample curves and long, straight blond hair. Her gray eyes lit up when she saw Edith. She rushed forward and enveloped her in a hug, saying, “I’m so glad you came to visit.”

  The young woman was such a force of nature that there was no forgetting Claudia Colton—especially with as much as she’d been in the news lately. It had just recently been discovered that she wasn’t even a Colton. But that was probably not a bad thing.

  Honeysuckle Road...

  Of course this was Claudia’s shop. She’d opened it up with the help of her sister Leonor, and she featured her own designs in it.

  “I should have come sooner to check it out,” Edith said as she hugged her back. Claudia had designed a gorgeous wedding gown for Thorne’s bride. Edith couldn’t wait to check out the racks of clothes filling the shop.