Far more than it had meant to him, obviously.
But she hadn’t known that.
She’d really thought that Fritz loved her. And had been petrified of being a father.
Maybe he had loved her, in his own way. Maybe she just hadn’t loved herself enough to demand more for herself. Maybe she’d thought she deserved to have to settle?
She didn’t know. Was tired of asking.
But knew she couldn’t stop. The only way to move forward was to learn from her mistakes. And yet, looking at herself from his eyes—from the eyes of someone only just meeting her, someone who was gaining instant access into the intimate details of her life—she felt like such a failure.
When he’d held that book and told her that she’d made more of her opportunities than he had... Did he really see her that way?
Or was he just being kind? She’d learned long ago that if something looked too good to be true, it probably was. And because of her choices, her eighty-year-old gram was sitting in prison...
“Hey, come on...” An arm suddenly wrapped around her shoulders. She hadn’t even known Clarke had approached, had barely felt him drop to the hardwood floor beside her. “You’re doing great,” he told her. “Just a little bit more and we can get out of here.”
She didn’t really want to get out of there. “There” was her home. Her haven.
What she wanted was to get Fritz out of there once and for all. To take back what was hers. And to make it better.
She wanted to love and be loved.
To be worthy of the kind of emotion she had to give.
She’d wanted to be a mother. A partner. A homemaker. And a salon owner, too.
So how had she ended up with none of those things? She had to figure it out. Quick.
And the first step was to quit burying her head in the sand. Or just looking at the moment in front of her. That got her through days. It had gotten her through two months in prison and an agonizing trial. It was time to do more than just get through. Time to ask what she wanted.
Time to... Clarke didn’t speak, just sat there, his arm supporting her back, his hand at her shoulder. A Colton. Sitting on the floor holding her up as though she was some kind of fine china.
She’d never been breakable. But she’d once thought herself delicate.
And worthy of being handled that way. Hadn’t even noticed her self-confidence shedding away.
How was it that turning to look at Clarke Colton just then made her feel like she was getting some of it back?
“Why would he do that?” she whispered, their mouths only inches apart. “Why would he say he wanted kids and then have surgery so he couldn’t? And not tell me? Why take away my chances to have a family of my own?”
“My guess is because he didn’t want to lose you. Or share you.”
She watched his lips move. Felt the heat of his body as he held her against him. She didn’t lean into that embrace, but she absorbed it.
“Then why cheat on me all these years? If I wasn’t enough to...”
His finger touched her lips. “Shhh. Don’t say it, and as much as you can help it, don’t even think it.”
His blue eyes were pools of compassion, of assurance, and she didn’t have the strength to pull her own gaze away from them. She wallowed there, searching him. Letting him see her.
“The man was a fool...” His words were as soft as hers had been as his mouth lowered and...touched hers. Lightly. Gently.
Oh, so sweetly.
Everleigh sat there, her face raised to his, letting him move his mouth on hers. She didn’t respond. Just let the shock of it all consume her. But when he went to pull away, she groaned and reached her face up to him, her hands flat on the floor, bracing her, while she kissed him back.
Chapter 7
What in the hell was he doing?
Even as Clarke leaned into the kiss, he started to pull back. Had to stop what was starting...to make it go away, not just in the moment, but permanently.
He was on the job. Would absolutely not sacrifice the hard years he’d spent earning back the trust of his family or his professional reputation. He was done jumping into what felt good in the moment.
And more...he couldn’t take advantage of Everleigh Emerson when she was vulnerable. She deserved so much better.
His lips still moving against hers, his body aching to press against hers, he tore his mouth away, wiped it with the back of his wrist as he stood up.
Scrambling for a way to stay on the job so that he could keep her safe.
A way to maintain her trust in light of what had just happened. A way to ensure that it didn’t happen again.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I...have never...in my entire career...made a move on a client.” He was breathing hard still. His words were punctuated by the deep breaths; he needed to figure out what he was doing.
She nodded. Busied herself finishing up with the fishing tackle. Not looking at him.
And he realized...she’d kissed him back. As opposed to pushing him away.
Did she want him to kiss her again?
Was she hurt by his rejection? That idea was alarming.
He stood there watching her filling sections of the plastic container with hooks and flies and lures with no rhyme or reason to their organization. Her fingers...so slim and gentle compared to his own...
He couldn’t have sex with her. And the temptation would be that much more dangerous if he thought she wanted him to.
He didn’t want to hurt her. In the short or long term.
He absolutely didn’t want to start any kind of relationship, either. With anyone... The last burn was still stinging with a little too much repulsion for him to even open that door.
“You asked if I have a current girlfriend...” The words started to roll, and while he wasn’t sure of them, he didn’t stop them. “I don’t, but I did. Aubrey agreed that we were only having fun, enjoying each other’s company, but she read far more into things than was there. To the point that I was uncomfortable. She started checking up on me, didn’t want me going anywhere without her, and when I ended things, she wouldn’t go away. Kept calling in tears, texting. Driving by. Trying to talk to my family. When all of that got her nowhere, she threatened some things...”
He sounded like some kind of victim of an abusive relationship. That hadn’t been the message he’d wanted to impart. Everleigh didn’t look at him, but her fingers on the tackle had slowed. And when she turned, her eyes glaring points at him, he knew he should have kept his mouth shut.
“You think I’m going to make something out of one kiss?” she asked. “Or that I’d resort to running to Melissa, tattling on you?”
He couldn’t tell if she was more hurt or pissed... “No!” He advanced, but at her steely look, he backed up again. “That wasn’t where I was going. At all,” he said, putting all of the conviction inside him in his voice. In the look he gave her. “I swear. I just... I like women, Everleigh. I’ve known a lot of them. I’m forty years old,” he added, as though the “a lot of women” needed justification. “But that’s all it is. Liking them, and if they like me back, we see if there’s something between us. I enjoy lighthearted relationships that aren’t going anywhere...”
He sounded so shallow. And it wasn’t that, either. He just...
Didn’t know what it was.
He’d started the conversation to distract her from what appeared to be a mutual attraction. Maybe to show her that he was the type of man she’d never want. Someone like her husband—minus the cheating—even if he knew he was entirely different from Fritz Emerson.
But all he’d done was confuse himself.
“I find you...intriguing,” he said. “And I feel for you...your situation. Seeing you sit there...sorting tackle, cleaning up your ransacked house without a single complaint...having just been r
eleased from prison after being there for something you didn’t do...”
She closed the tackle box. Stood up, put it in a cupboard with the rest of the boxes and shut the door. Then turned to him.
“You’re saying you kissed me out of pity?”
No, it hadn’t been that, either.
“I’m saying...it should never have happened. It was unprofessional, and though I find you attractive, I don’t know why I overstepped. It wasn’t anything I’ve ever done before, and I am absolutely certain it shouldn’t ever happen again.”
She nodded, her expression placid. Opened her mouth, but before she got a word out, a sound came from the direction of the kitchen. Like a door handle rattling.
Clarke was out of the room and to the back of the house before he’d taken a breath.
Only to see the main door leading to the backyard closed and locked, and the screen door behind it hanging open. He ran out into the yard, saw the back gate open, with no one in sight.
* * *
By the time Clarke made it back into the house, Everleigh had herself firmly in hand. Yeah, some bad things had happened to her. But she was still there. Still okay.
And needed herself to be strong. To take control and deal with the circumstances she’d been dealt.
Not be some guy’s pity kiss.
Someone was clearly after her, after something in her house.
“What person in their right mind vandalizes a house, tries to run someone down and then comes back to the same house hours after the police have been through it?” she asked, as she rode with Clarke back to his condo. Along with the food, she’d brought her tablet and charger, too, so she could stream shows in her room and still have her phone free. Yeah, she was kind of on lockdown again, but Clarke’s house was nothing like prison.
She was free to do what she wanted when she wanted.
And she was free to leave, too, if she chose to do so.
“I’d say that person probably isn’t in their right mind,” Clarke said, glancing at her and then back at the road. “Which is what makes them so dangerous. We can’t predict what they might do. Or rest assured that normal protection protocols will work. We need to keep you inside and be on guard at all times.” How he made such alarming news sound reassuring, she didn’t know.
But the man made her feel safe. In a world that hadn’t felt that way for a long, long time.
Which was no reason to kiss him back.
Pity kiss. She admitted to herself that she wanted to believe that was what it had been because that interpretation simplified everything.
He’d behaved with perfect decorum since reentering her home and saying they had to leave twenty minutes before. Had waited silently for her to collect what she needed and helped carry everything out to the car.
It was as though those out-of-this-world seconds followed by awkward moments in Fritz’s den had never happened.
That was exactly what her response to his kiss had been. The first time in more than eighteen years her lips had joined with a man’s who wasn’t her husband...
Ironic that it had happened in the cheater’s den.
Kind of icky that it had also been the room in which her husband had been murdered.
Such was her life.
Feeling like a sitting duck, as she rode beside him with glass from the car windows surrounding them, she watched his hands on the wheel, thinking about what he’d said earlier.
That was better than worrying about a bullet aimed at her shattering the glass.
He found her intriguing.
She didn’t hate that.
But there’d be no more kisses between them.
She’d already known he was a womanizer. And while he hadn’t confirmed the rumor when she’d brought it up that morning, she knew it was no mistake that he’d done so that afternoon. He was letting her know that he was not relationship material.
His honesty endeared him to her.
But she’d do well to heed his warning, as well. If she’d had any doubts about the inadvisability of letting that kiss happen a second time, he’d laid them firmly to rest.
She’d never intended to let anything happen between them, in any case. While she didn’t blame the Coltons for what had happened to her, she didn’t want anyone associated with law enforcement in her sphere. She just wanted to put the whole thing behind her.
Just had one point of curiosity...
“What ended up happening to her? The woman who was stalking you?” The man was related to pretty much the entire GGPD.
“She wasn’t stalking me.”
Interesting take on it. “What would you call it?”
“Having a hard time taking no for an answer.”
Yeah, and she hadn’t been a victim of a near murder that morning, either, because who, after all, wanted to be that?
“So, what happened to her?” she asked.
Gram had always said that if you wanted to get out of your own misery, think of someone else’s. The advice had worked in prison.
“She ended up getting some professional help and last I knew was living upstate with a relative.”
The way he said it...ended up getting professional help...
She studied him as he drove, noticing how, once again, his gaze seemed to be on the road, and all around them, too. Like he’d be able to dodge a bullet if it came at them?
“That was it? She just decided she needed help?” she prodded him, wondering how he had handled being a target—like she’d been.
“In exchange for not having charges pressed against her.”
Wow. So, it had been big. Couldn’t have been easy for him to deal with. And yet he wore it well. Hadn’t seemed to have shaken his peace of mind—at least, from what little she knew of him thus far.
She wanted that. To be able to take the things that happened to her and continue forward, having learned from them, but not letting them stop her from moving on to what was next.
As he drove, keeping his lookout, she just had to say, “Thank you.”
“For what?” His glance was lingering, but his attention turned immediately back to the road, reminding her that there could be danger all around her.
“Your honesty.” She told him the truth, and then, feeling awkward, she added, “And everything.”
When he shot her a glance, looking like he had something to say, but not saying it, she said, “I find you intriguing, too, but I have no intention of that kiss ever happening again.” He just drove. “And no desire, whatsoever, to become involved with a PI who works with the GGPD.”
Now, that was too harsh. “Or anyone. Not yet. Not for a long while.” Her heart reached out to him. Feeling what he must have gone through, having a woman he’d been intimately involved with try to threaten him.
At least with Fritz, it had all just been him being a creep. A liar. All things the mind had a place for...
But Clarke...there he was...coming off one bad relationship and kissing an ex-con barmaid client.
She wanted to reassure him...she wasn’t as bad off as she came across...
“It was the first time I’ve kissed a man other than Fritz since he and I first started dating...”
She didn’t go around just getting physical with other men. Not even after her husband had left her. His lies about her cheating had prevented her from even thinking about doing that—until now.
Which, knowing Fritz and his manipulative ways, had probably been a secondary intention when he’d concocted the lies to begin with. Protect his own reputation with his family, first, and control her, second.
“He wanted me,” she said aloud. “He just didn’t want to be faithful to me. Or want me to be my own person, either.” She’d had goals, dreams of her own. He hadn’t wanted that, so he’d made sure, behind her back, that it didn’t happen.
; She looked up at Clarke. “That’s the first time I’ve fully realized that,” she told him. “I was like a possession. Not a real person to him...”
And all the while, she’d been committed to making their vows matter, to being true and loyal, to making the marriage work, rather than walking out on it when times got tough.
“What an idiot I was.”
“No!” His shoulders, even bigger in the confined space due to the heavy coat he wore, seemed to loom so large. The car’s heater was on, but the late afternoon chill still filled the air. “Don’t judge yourself by his failings,” he told her.
“I chose him.”
“You chose what he presented himself to be. The lies are on him.”
She’d buy that, except... “How do I know, how does anyone ever know, what’s really inside someone else’s head?” she asked him. “I fell for Fritz’s lies. What’s to say I wouldn’t fall for another guy like that? I should have been able to sense that something was off...”
“Except that it probably wasn’t off at first. Or maybe wasn’t ever all the way off. I’m guessing there was a part of him that was the man you saw, the man you loved. Part of him who wanted to be that man.”
“Maybe.” Or maybe Clarke was just being kind. “But the cheating... They say a woman knows. I didn’t.”
“Sometimes we only see what we expect to see.”
She frowned. “You think I didn’t want to know he was cheating, so I subconsciously turned a blind eye to it, mentally as well as physically?”
“I’m saying that you believed him to be one thing and so that was what you saw. You had faith in your husband, Everleigh. That’s a good thing.”
So why didn’t it feel good? Why did it leave her alone at thirty-eight with no family of her own, no kids, no career and feeling like a fool...and having to hide out in a gorgeous man’s luxury condominium and pretend he was her boyfriend, just to try to save her life?
Ping! A sound came from just behind her, down by the seat. Jerking with a force that slammed her hand into the door handle, she ducked just as Clarke said “Get down!” with enough urgency to fill her with fear.
Colton's Killer Pursuit Page 7
