by Addison Fox
And Finn.
When this was all over, they’d each go back to their lives, like boxers returning to their separate corners.
Even with the beauty of new life in her arms, Darby couldn’t deny just how bleak her future appeared.
* * *
Finn spent the remainder of the day actively avoiding the image of Darby Gage with a baby in her arms. He’d been excited to see his niece again, Lora’s arrival bringing a sense of familial bond he’d never fully known. He loved his siblings, but he had no idea what fierce protective instincts would be—or even could be—generated by the arrival of his sister’s child.
One look at the baby and it was easy to understand why. She was so small and helpless, the natural urge was to protect. The fact she was family made that need infinitely stronger.
Yet the sight of Darby holding her had been off the charts. It made no sense, but he couldn’t shake the image of the protective cradle of her arms securing Lora or the sweet cooing noises she made to his niece as she’d held her.
Which only made him imagine her with a baby of her own in her arms.
His baby.
The thought was so jarring he must have tensed up because Lotte barked beside him, the slightest whine edging her communication. She nudged his hand where he still held her favorite ball, her eyes full of question. He brushed her cheek with his crooked finger before tossing it once more.
The light touch and toss of her favorite rubber ball sent her off, barking all the way, down a long stretch of cleared path in the park by his apartment. The Red Ridge parks department had cleared the walking paths after the snowfall earlier that week and since the park was relatively empty he didn’t mind using the areas for Lotte’s exercise. The snow piles on either side of the path didn’t deter her enthusiasm and she skittered toward the ball, tumbling over her quarry and landing with half her body in the snowbank.
Leaping up, she shook it off and raced back toward him, her tail wagging all the way.
This, he understood. Quiet moments with his dog, the one entity in the entire world he trusted more than himself. He didn’t even trust Darby. Heck, up until the day before, he’d been half convinced she was a murderess.
But what about the other half?
All along he’d questioned if it was even possible she’d murdered anyone. His half-cocked plan to roust out a killer by pretending to be a couple was putting himself directly in the line of fire if she had been guilty. Yet it had never crossed his mind that Darby would hurt him or that he was in any sort of danger from her at all.
He tossed the ball again, watching it bounce down the path, with Lotte racing after it, and wondered when things had become so unexpected. Wondered even more when he had he begun thinking of Darby on such personal terms.
And where had that strange thought of children come from?
He’d accepted a long time ago that the family life that worked for so many wasn’t meant for him. He’d gone into his marriage with good intentions and had realized fairly quickly that it wasn’t for him. The commitment part he valued—even loved—but he’d never expected that the same level of fidelity extended to sharing his work or the requirements on his time that came with it.
Mary had quickly tired of the demands on his time and he’d tired of her frustration. He couldn’t account for a bad day at work or the need to deal with a criminal problem over the weekend. And she was hardly at fault for wanting her husband around for family events or uninterrupted hours together. It had been the biggest revelation of his marriage. His calling to police work—one of the things that had attracted her to him—had been the same thing that had broken them apart.
He’d been divorced for five years and he still wasn’t sure who he resented more for that fact.
As the thought lingered, Finn suddenly realized Lotte hadn’t bounded back. He started down the path, surprised at how far the last toss had gone that he managed to send her around the bend in the path, only to stumble upon his sister Valeria.
And the boy she’d become inseparable from.
“Finn!” Valeria stared up from where she crouched, petting Lotte into a state of ecstasy.
“What are you doing here?” he asked before shifting his gaze to her companion. “Vincent.”
“Sir.”
Finn had to give Vincent credit. The youngest Gage held his ground, his hand already extended to say hello.
He shook the kid’s hand, the grip firm. He was a solid young man, which made his stepmother’s upset he was dating her youngest even more ridiculous. The kids were a couple. A seriously besotted one, if the looks the two passed each other—hot enough to melt an acre of snow—were any indication.
“What are you two doing here?” Finn asked. “Park’s pretty deserted.”
“Same as you. Getting a bit of fresh air.” Valeria held his gaze, her stare direct, before her eyes dropped. “You’re not gonna tell Mom, are you?”
“I’m not telling Joanelle anything.” He owed his stepmother nothing and he wasn’t going to be a hypocrite about that fact.
But he did love his baby sister. And he was determined to keep her safe, even if she wasn’t thinking straight in the midst of her grand love affair.
“She’s convinced something will happen to us because of this Groom Killer thing. As if.” Valeria rolled her eyes.
“You don’t think there’s anything to worry about?” Finn shot a dark look at his sister before turning it on Vincent. “Because I have two dead bodies that say otherwise.”
The eyes so like his own widened as Valeria reached for Vincent’s hand. “You really think there’s something to this? Something to worry about? Mom’s such a drama queen about everything, I figured she was making it up.”
Finn’s assessment of Joanelle was less charitable, but the underlying message was the same. His father’s second wife excelled at creating drama and seemed to enjoy living in a state of over-the-top panic about everything. She’d done it for so long, no one took her seriously when it truly counted.
“Valeria. Two men have been killed. Both were shot the night before their wedding. I’m not trying to start a full-on panic in Red Ridge, but I’m not going to sit here and blow smoke at you that nothing’s wrong.”
“We’ve been keeping a low profile. That’s why we’re here,” Vincent said.
“If by ‘low profile’ you mean you don’t know it’s going around that you’re planning a Christmas wedding?”
Once again, his sister’s eyes grew round and Finn had the grim satisfaction that he still had his ear on the pulse of things in his town. The fact those “things” involved fear of a killer and raining on his baby sister’s parade sucked.
Vincent spoke up and, once again, Finn had to give credit where it was due. The kid was respectful, but there was a distinct note of defiance in his words. “We are being careful, Chief Colton. But we’re not going to live in fear, either.”
“I don’t want you to do that. But I do want you to be careful. Avoid making a splash of things. Stay closer to home. There are plenty of places to hide out on the ranch.” Finn knew better than most, since he’d spent so much of his childhood hiding away.
“Mom’s got all the ranch hands looking out for us.”
“Come on, Val. Put all your sweetness and charm to good use. The hands love you way more than Joanelle. They’ll go to bat for you.”
“Cal is always winking at me and knows I always save the biggest pieces of cornbread for him on the days we make chili.”
“There ya go.” Finn pulled his sister close for a hug. “Just be careful.”
She squeezed him back and it struck Finn that somewhere along the way his baby sister had grown up. She was still young—nineteen fell clearly in the innocent column—but she wasn’t a child any longer.
And if she had her way, she’d be married before the year was out.
>
One sister had a baby. Another was getting married.
How was it that the people in his life had moved on and all he seemed to do was stand still?
* * *
His visits with his sisters still weighed heavy on Finn’s mind when he climbed the front steps of Darby’s house. He’d planned an elaborate evening out—something flashy and showy for anyone watching—and he tried to keep his focus on his plans instead of the weird thoughts that kept intruding. Yet, try as he might, he hadn’t shaken the dark cloud that had accompanied him all day.
He should be happy for his sisters. Serena was a new mother and soon-to-be-wife, happy and as serene as her name implied. Valeria, while headstrong and a bit foolish with it, was in love with Vincent. After their meeting in the park, he’d dropped Lotte back at his condo and taken the lovebirds to lunch, pleased to see how innately kind and genuine they were to each other. From Vincent’s quiet request to their waitress for a refill on Valeria’s iced tea to his sister’s excitement over Vincent’s recent accomplishment in one of his college courses, they loved each other. More than that, they had a mutual care for each other that was tangible and the compatibility to make a real go of marriage.
The porch light on Darby’s front door had been replaced and he stood in its warm glow as he knocked. She opened the door, gesturing him in out of the cold.
“Hurry up, get in here. It’s freezing.” She waved him in, a thick set of curlers covering her head. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and he could see a silky robe peeking out from underneath. That flash of red silk had his body going on high alert, but it was the match of fuzzy shark slippers capping off those gorgeous legs that sent him over the edge.
Oblivious to his anguish, she shook her head as she closed the door. “What am I saying? It’s South Dakota in February. Of course it’s freezing. But it’s extra cold tonight. Which is why I’m running so late. I couldn’t get Penny and Lucy out of the backyard as they romped their way through the snow.”
Alert to their names, Penny and Lucy raced over to greet him. Their tails wagged in unison as he lavished praise on them, their pleasure in seeing him going a long way toward assuaging the roiling thoughts that had accompanied him to Darby’s.
“I’m almost done. Promise!”
Finn watched Darby race off down the hall before refocusing on Penny and Lucy. And didn’t miss the speculative look in Penny’s eyes as she stared up at him.
“Don’t go getting any ideas.”
Penny just wagged her tail and kept up that close scrutiny. He was tempted to argue with her but recognized his sanity was on the line. So he maintained the steady combing of his fingers through her fur and ignored the thought that even the dog had a better sense of how he needed to live his life than he did.
Rather than stand in the entryway, Finn led the dogs over to the couch. With one eye on them and another on the room, he could see the progress Darby had made. The furniture and carpet were still threadbare, but she’d strategically placed a few blankets over the worst parts of the furniture and had added some colorful throw pillows to fool the eye. She’d spruced up the place and she’d done it with light and color.
Maybe it was that thought, still so vivid in his mind, that had him turning at the sound of her heels on the hallway floor. Or maybe it was the strange melancholy that had accompanied him all day. Or maybe it was simply being in the presence of a beautiful woman.
Finn didn’t know and as he caught sight of Darby, clad in a colorful sheath that draped her body like a second skin, he didn’t care. He wanted her. And in that moment, she was all he could see.
Before he could even process the move as rational thought, he was off the couch and headed for her, pulling her close and into his arms, his mouth on a determined path to hers. He caught the slightest sense of surprise in the widened O of her mouth and the light squeak of her voice as she said his name.
And then there were no words.
Or questions.
Or nagging thoughts that seemed to have no place to land.
There was only Darby. Sweet and sexy Darby. The woman did things to his good sense and he was fast losing his ability to keep his head around her.
But as her lips met his, her arms wrapping around his neck in warm welcome and acceptance, Finn didn’t care. He was lost to her and the kiss.
Chapter 11
Hot. Liquid. Needy.
A run of abstract thoughts crisscrossed Darby’s mind as she fought to keep up with Finn. Or fought to keep up with his mouth, which was more accurate at the moment.
Want—elemental and desperate—coursed through her body, tightening her nerve endings and making her skin feel as if it were on fire. Everywhere he touched seemed to explode with feeling. Every place his fingers settled lit from within.
She wasn’t sure what had happened. One moment she was still fussing over a twisted curl that wouldn’t lay straight and the next she was wrapped up in Finn’s arms, being positively devoured. Thoughts of that errant curl fled as she got into the moment. After all, how often did a gal get devoured by a big, handsome man in her own living room?
And, oh, it was glorious.
Large hands covered her hips, pulling her flush against the hard planes of his body while his mouth maintained a steady pressure on hers, dragging sensation after sensation from somewhere inside her she hadn’t even realized existed. Some deep well of feeling and emotion and need she’d never known—or even comprehended—was there.
Yet Finn knew. And he’d unerringly found it, with his kind eyes and his sexy lips and his determination to give his town peace and calm once more.
She’d bought the brightly colored dress on sale earlier in the week and even at a steep discount, she’d berated herself a bit for the extravagance. Now, feeling his hands over the thin fabric, Darby knew it had been the right call.
His mouth slanted over hers once more, greedily, and she amended her thought.
The exact right call.
“Finn?” His name bubbled to her lips, her questions in all she didn’t say.
“Darby.” He pressed his forehead to hers, a smile forming on his lips. “Did I mention you look beautiful tonight?”
“I’m pretty good at reading between the lines.”
“So you don’t have to, let me say it again. You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She nipped his lips for one more kiss before stepping back. Before stepping away from a man who could not only make her lose all rational thought but, if he only asked her, could likely convince her to stay in all evening. When the image of making love with him accompanied the mental invitation, she took another step back, putting solid distance between them.
“Let me just put down food for Penny and Lucy, and we can get going.” She puttered nervously into the kitchen, her heels tapping against the linoleum as she crossed back and forth from the sink to the pantry for their water and food.
What had she been thinking?
More, what had he been thinking?
This was platonic. They’d had their moments, of course. Those fleeting kisses meant to fool anyone watching them from afar.
But this? In her house? It was so fierce. So needy.
Darby fought the small shudder that raced down her spine and finished preparing dinner for the dogs.
With that small moment of distraction over, there was no reason to remain in the kitchen. As she tap-tap-tapped her way toward the living room, she prayed for strength.
Strength to resist the most amazing man she’d ever met.
* * *
Finn pulled Darby’s chair out and fought the urge to tug at one of the loose curls that covered her head. They’d kept up a veneer of vague conversation in the car—their earlier visit with baby Lora had provided an excellent subject to distract them both—and he’d grasped at the conversational lifeline like a
drowning man.
The chatter had kept them both from discussing what had happened in her living room.
What had happened in her living room? And when had he lost his focus?
He was running a murder investigation—the worst that had ever hit Red Ridge. He had no business stealing kisses from a woman who was only helping him do his job. More than that, he had no business wanting kisses from her.
“Smile, Finn.”
“Hmm?” He still stood beside Darby’s chair and it was only her pointed gaze and the lift of her hand to his cheek that had him refocusing.
“Smile, darling. We’re the focus of the entire restaurant. It would hardly do to make people think I was dating a grizzly bear.”
The grizzly bear comment was a funny one and he suddenly had the image of sprouting hair all over his body and roaring down Main Street. With a smile, he lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. Whether it was the indulgent smile she gave him or the heat from earlier he couldn’t quite shake, Finn wasn’t sure, but he used his position to run his tongue lightly along the seam of her palm.
Indulgence shifted to desire in a heartbeat as her eyes went a smoky gray.
“Finn?” Her voice was as smoky as her eyes and as equally powerful.
Again, she used only his name. And again, that same impulse that pushed him earlier had him in its thrall once more, rushing through his body and forcing his ardor higher and higher.
Satisfied he’d made his point—and well aware he’d tempted himself equally—he squeezed her hand before gently settling it back on the table and taking his seat.
Their waiter, who’d hovered a discreet distance away, rushed over, menus in hand. The restaurant specialized in seafood, crafting dishes each night that could be inspired from anywhere. From the Pacific Rim to West Coast cuisine to the Mediterranean, the chef was whimsical and eclectic and had created a place with good buzz and consistently satisfied patrons.
Although he saw relatively few young couples—the lifeblood of a hip, happening place—Finn was pleased to see the restaurant was full. Maybe this was one place people still felt comfortable coming out for the night.
