by Addison Fox
“I haven’t given it much thought.”
“What about your marriage, then? Were you in love?”
“Yes.” His shoulders had grown more and more stiff as they spoke of their pasts, but it was like something broke. He laid down his fork and knife and looked at her. “But I might have been the same as you. I went into it with the best of intentions but somewhere along the way realized I wasn’t really in love. And then, after a while, I began to question if I’d ever been in love at all.”
“It’s easy to armchair quarterback at the end. After all the bad things have been said, it’s hard to remember there were ever good things.”
“I suppose.”
“It doesn’t mean there wasn’t anything good about the time you spent together. Which is why I need to thank you.”
“Thank me? For what?”
“For this week. For however long this charade lasts. I’ve been existing these past few years but I haven’t really been living. You’ve reminded me that I’m still young and still have something to give.”
Finn stared at her, that firm jaw and penetrating gaze that had increasingly been occupying more and more of her thoughts holding her captive. In such a short time, he’d reminded her that she had a future. One she should work a bit harder for.
“Whoever is lucky enough to receive all you have to give, Darby Gage, will be a lucky man.”
The sweet words hovered between them, as delicate as cotton candy at the state fair. She debated saying something, but hesitated to break the moment. And then the choice was taken out of her hands by the arrival of the Larson twins, with two equally vapid women on their arms.
“Look at this little party.” Evan Larson spoke first. Or who she thought was Evan, but maybe it was his twin, Noel. She’d always had some trouble figuring out who was who. They were handsome men, but Darby had always steered clear of both of them. She’d waited on them from time to time at the diner, but in recent years when they’d lined their coffers with even more money from whatever interests they had going—real estate was the latest, she’d heard—they’d believed themselves above diner fare.
“Heard you’re running Bo’s business now.” The one she believed was Noel spoke up, his eyes hazed with what she assumed was liquor.
“Yes, I inherited Bo’s business.”
“I want one of your puppies. Two, as a matter of fact.” The woman at his side cooed when she heard the mention of puppies and he squeezed her waist in response.
“I don’t know when my next litter will be ready.”
The jovial smile on the man’s face dropped. “Why the hell not? Bo said he was getting ready to breed his bitch.”
“Penny’s not ready to have more puppies.” Darby held her ground but chaffed at the arrogance. And while she understood the technical term for Penny was bitch, somehow Noel’s use of the word was more slur than descriptor.
“Well, get her ready. She’s a damned dog.”
The other Larson stepped up, laying a hand on his brother’s free shoulder. “You’ll have to excuse my brother’s excitement. He’s been looking forward to adding to his team of guard dogs. The training takes a while and he’d hoped to include some young blood into his team.”
Finn stood then, his movements slow as he came to his full height. Although neither of the twins was a small man, Finn’s tall form and broad shoulders had them backing up. “I’m sure Ms. Gage will be happy to let you know when she’s ready for buyers.”
Again, the one Darby she believed was Evan spoke up. “I’m sure she will.”
He tightened his grip on his date and shot a smile to his brother that smacked of warning. “We’ll let you get back to your dinner, then. Enjoy your evening.”
The foursome walked to a private table in the back. Noel’s tumble into his chair reinforced her belief he was drunk, though it didn’t negate the dark look he shot her from across the room.
Finn took his seat after shooting a few dark looks of his own in the direction of the brothers.
“I guess your investment’s already paying off.” Darby tried to keep her attitude light and breezy, but the image of giving one of her puppies to Evan or Noel Larson stuck in her stomach and spoiled her appetite.
“What investment?”
“The money you’ve put into the business. I’ve already got buyers. Not the Larson brothers, of course. I’d never do business with them.”
“That money’s yours. I don’t expect any of it back.”
Although the past week hadn’t been anything like she’d expected, Darby distinctly remembered their conversation when he’d offered to pay off her debts. “But you said the money was an investment.”
“In you. In getting your help, yes. But I don’t expect anything back from you.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because you needed help. And since I needed help, too, this was the quickest way to solve both our problems.” Finn reached across the table and took her hand in his. Unlike the purposeful attempts at public displays of affection over the past week, there was something impulsive in the gesture. Like he meant it and wasn’t trying to show off for anyone who might be watching.
“Thank you for the help, then.” She turned her hand over beneath his, allowing his palm to rest against hers, and took solace in the simple gesture of affection.
Chapter 9
“Bring it to me! Come on, girl!” Finn hollered the words as he watched Darby’s newest addition race toward the back fence surrounding the backyard. The property was larger than the fenced area, but the cordoned space provided lots of room to play and roam yet still kept the dogs near the house.
Lucy had picked up the game quickly, her transition to Darby’s home seeming to go smoothly as he took her through several games and drills. Lotte and Penny were enjoying themselves, as well, racing around the backyard, chasing each other and generally roughhousing on the snow-covered ground.
“Do they ever get tired?”
Darby, bundled up in a thick coat, carried two travel mugs of coffee in her hands. She hip bumped the back door closed before crossing to him and extending one of the mugs. Finn took the offering and laughed as Lucy bounded back over the snow, racing close enough to kick up some powder as she skidded to a stop at his feet.
“Once again, the Finn Colton charm is taking down another one. What is your secret with my dogs?”
“I think they know I’m as big a kid as they are.”
Darby cocked her head, the bold morning sun catching the red highlights in her hair. “The big, bad chief has a childish side?”
“One I pull out on rare occasions. Dogs are a safe space to do that.”
“Have you had times in your life where you didn’t feel you could be a kid? Where you needed a safe space?”
Finn heard the interest and knew he was the one who’d put the idea out there. What surprised him was how comfortable he felt continuing the conversation.
“It’s a trait that started young and I guess I’ve kept it.” He tossed the ball again, sending Lucy off on a race to catch it, her delighted barks filling the air.
“You’re the oldest?” she asked.
“The oldest. And the only from my father’s marriage to my mother. My half siblings are from my father’s second marriage.”
“I can see where that would be hard.”
“It might have been easier with a different woman, but Joanelle is a tough woman on a good day.”
“And on a bad one?” Darby asked, going to the heart of the matter.
“She made it perfectly clear she’d be perfectly happy if I hadn’t been a part of her life most days. Fortunately my siblings aren’t the same. But I spent as much time out of the house as I could.”
“You couldn’t have been that old. I’ve met your sister Serena. She’s not that much younger than you.”
/> “Five years.”
“So you could hardly run through town by yourself. Where did you go when you went out of the house?”
“The stables, mostly. I made friends with the ranch hands and they were good to me, but they kept their distance, too. Owner’s kid and all that. The dogs, on the other hand—they were always good for long hours together.”
He saw the concern in her eyes—saw the way the sympathy came over her like a wool blanket—and was positively suffocated by it. “It was no big deal. I survived. And I have a good relationship with Anders and Serena and Valeria. Joanelle couldn’t mess that up, no matter how much she tried to poison the well.”
Darby didn’t say anything. Instead she turned and set her coffee down on a small table, then reached for his and did the same. The dog had bounded back during their conversation and before he could send her running again, Darby picked up the ball at his feet and tossed it, sending Lucy off like a shot in its wake.
She focused on him once more, the warmth in her gaze changing as he stared at her in the fresh morning air. Where Finn believed he’d seen sympathy only moments before, the light in her eyes had changed, reflecting something that looked a lot like want.
Then she proved him 100 percent correct by lifting up on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his.
Finn caught her around the waist, boosting her up and crushing her to his chest at the same time. The tentative press of her lips on his picked up steam as she got into the moment with him, her tongue darting out to mate with his. In moments the kiss went from sweet and heated to wanton and erotic, a feast for the senses. He was beyond pleased she’d initiated the kiss—everything up to now had been all him—but he couldn’t deny the need to touch her was overwhelming.
His hands roamed over her back, pulling her close and seeking the shape of her through the thick, heavy winter material. For the first time in his life, he wished for summer.
And wasn’t that a kick?
A heavy paw swatted at his thigh before the distinct outline of a ball pressed into the same spot. He broke the kiss to stare down at Lucy, her eyes big and unrepentant as she stared up at him.
“She doesn’t care she’s interrupted something.” The husky register of Darby’s voice grabbed at him, a fist closing over the base of his spine as he kept one hand firmly wrapped around her. With the other, he took the ball and flung it as hard and as far as he could, not surprised when he heard a heavy thud where it met the fence line.
“That was some throw.”
“That’s because I want more time.” Finn bent his head to hers once more, their breaths shooting puffs of steam into the cold morning air. He ignored all of it as he took her mouth, anxious to devour as much of her as he could.
Where had this come from?
A week ago he’d accused her of murder. When had he veered from thinking of her as a suspect to thinking of her as a lover?
Lucy’s barks interrupted them once more and he sighed against Darby’s lips.
“It’s like a race against the clock,” Darby said before a giggle spilled out.
“It’s not funny.”
“Yeah.” She giggled again. “It sort of is. I’ve got one who won’t let me pet her and one that won’t let me kiss you. Maybe I should sell the business. I’m not sure I’m going to be very successful at it anyway.”
Finn considered her in that moment—the big smile, the infectious laughter, and the clear love and commitment for the dogs—and knew it was time to tell her she was no longer a suspect. The bleach had provided proof, but the longer he spent with her, the less proof he needed.
She was a good woman. And she’d done right by Bo Gage’s family and his business and his beloved dog. A killer would have run long before, but Darby had stuck around.
Their conversation about his childhood struck him once more. He’d pushed aside that time in his life, refusing to dwell too long on what it had meant to be an outsider in his own family. Yet she’d understood.
More, she’d taken an interest and asked.
Yes, it was definitely time to tell her she wasn’t a suspect any longer. And it was time to give her a choice. He appreciated her help more than he could say, but she deserved a chance to get out of hunting a killer.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“About what?”
“Let’s go inside. I’d like to update you on the case.”
* * *
The watcher lifted the glass heart out of its velvet bed, turning the piece over and over in her hands. It was so delicate. Fragile.
Like the bonds she had with Finn Colton.
How was it he didn’t see that?
She’d been to the precinct before. They’d spoken, for heaven’s sake. Connected. How could he not know?
How could he not see how she felt about him?
But he obviously didn’t. Not if the spectacle he’d made of himself this week was any indication. Dinner dates. Movies. The bowling Tuesday night. All week long she’d been forced to watch him squire around that woman. The murderer.
Oh, she knew what the town whispered about. And they’d been whispering long and low about Darby Gage, the Groom Killer. It wasn’t a leap. She’d been married to the first victim. She was probably bitter and upset that he’d moved on. And then it had made her so mad, she’d killed another groom. Another man seeking his eternal happiness.
She traced her finger over the fragile heart, the glass so fine she could imagine it beating in her hand.
Like Finn Colton’s heart. She’d have it someday, all to herself.
Soon, he’d be hers.
In the meantime, maybe she needed to help him out. Help make sure that woman, the murderer, wasn’t able to kill again.
* * *
Darby set down refreshed water in three large bowls and heard the lapping before she’d even cleared the kitchen into the living room. With any luck the intense play session outside had tired out her charges. Of course, it wouldn’t do Finn much good if his partner fell asleep on the job, but with it being Saturday, hopefully they wouldn’t be called off to too much. In the relatively short time they’d spent together, she’d come to realize how dedicated he was to his job and his team. Even when he was technically off duty, he was always available to them.
Finn had poured fresh mugs of coffee for the two of them while she’d taken care of the dogs and had settled hers on the small coffee table in the living room.
He stood at the window that overlooked the backyard, his back to her when she walked into the room. The quiet moment gave her a chance to look him over and it struck her once again how big and strong he was.
Capable.
And very male.
It was funny, she’d never been a particular fan of big men. Bo had been physically well built but he’d been of average height. Most people didn’t notice it because his personality had been so oversize, but he hadn’t come anywhere near to clearing six feet. The few men she’d dated before getting married had all been average size, as well.
She’d liked it that way. While she’d never been afraid of men, growing up with a single mother, her life had revolved around being careful and being a good girl. Dating a large, overbearing man had always seemed like the antithesis of that.
Sunlight framed Finn’s body, backlighting him and showing off the gold in his thick dark blond hair. Once again, she could see traces of the little boy she imagined in her mind every time he smiled. Only, now she had a different picture. One he’d painted of lonely days with only the farm animals for company.
It explained his innate sense and easy comfort with the dogs. It also explained his unconditional love for them. While having a pet was a responsibility—running a business with them even more so—there was also an ease there. They genuinely craved care and affection and, if given, gave back far more than asked for.
It was that belief that had her hanging in there with Penny, persistent and steady as she worked to build a trusting relationship between them. And it was that same belief that had her so excited Lucy was now a part of their lives.
Finn turned from the window, catching her staring. She knew she should be embarrassed—it wasn’t like she’d acted shy that morning, either—yet she couldn’t see her way to even a blush. She enjoyed his company. And while things were confusing between them, especially with Bo’s death still unsolved, it wasn’t like he’d pushed her away.
Was it possible he considered things between them, as well?
The thought warmed her until a second followed on its heels. He’d said more than once that he’d wanted to keep their romance front and center to catch a killer. And he’d told her that he’d had a development in the case.
Had she only imagined a relationship building in her mind? She hadn’t dated in quite a while. And she had reveled in the affection he’d lavished on her over the past week. Maybe she’d fantasized this all out of control and turned it into something it wasn’t.
Something ugly and sick began to swirl in her veins, clouding her vision with memories of that morning when she’d thrown herself at him.
“Darby? You okay?”
“Sure. Fine. Of course.” She crossed the small space to the oversize chair that sat at the corner of the couch. “I know you have something you wanted to discuss. I’m sure I’ve taken up way too much of your time this morning and here I am lollygagging.”
“You’re not—”
She patted the arm of the couch, a gesture to call him over. “What was it you wanted to discuss?”
A strange expression passed over his face and he looked about to say something, but opted not to at the last minute and took the seat she’d suggested. He stared at her for a few more moments before taking a sip of his coffee.
“What is it, Finn?”
That intense gaze didn’t let up and the sinking feeling that had carried her to her seat grew more intense. Oh, no, you really did misread the situation. Smooth move, Darbs.
