I paused. “Is it that obvious?”
“Not really. I had my suspicions. You just confirmed them.”
“Sneaky bastard.”
He gave the barest smirk. “Detective, remember?”
“Right, right.” I leaned back. “Forgot you moonlight as a bloodhound. You think anyone else has picked up on it?”
“I don’t think so. Dotty might, but she won’t say anything unless she’s sure.”
I blew out a breath. “It started as a PR thing. You know, damage control. The body cam footage being released made it look like more than it was, and Ellie’s got a whole mess of bad press from her ex. It helps keep my coach happy. Seemed like a good idea.”
“But you like her.” It wasn’t a question.
I hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I do.”
He didn’t respond right away. “Good luck with that.”
“Thanks,” I muttered. “You gonna tell me what’s going on with Lilah now?”
“No.”
“C’mon, pretty please?” I batted my lashes like an idiot. “You know, if you’d just open up more?—”
“She’s getting divorced.” His tone dropped. “Bad situation, worse guy. I never liked him.” He shrugged. “I just want to be there. Make sure she’s okay.”
I was silent for a second. “So basically, you’re as cooked as I am.”
“You could say that.”
We sat there in silence for a beat, the cold biting at our skin. Somehow, I felt better knowing I wasn’t the only idiot sitting outside in freezing temps because he didn’t know what to do with his feelings.
“Well,” I finally said, “at least we’ll freeze to death in good company.”
Colt huffed out a laugh. “You talk too much.”
“Love you too, brother.”
He didn’t reply, but I swear, the corner of his mouth twitched.
ELEVEN
Sawyer
My heart was poundingin my chest. I was about to walk a household name celebrity into my little fixer-upper like it was no big deal. She was probably used to mansions with wine cellars and staff who ironed your pillowcases. Meanwhile, this place still had drywall patches and a suspicious creak in the hallway.
But she didn’t bat an eye as we pulled up.
The house sat right between Woodstone and the next town over, Shadow Ridge, tucked into a quiet stretch of road. It looked like it had been lifted straight off some cozy countryside Pinterest board—one of the ones I’d never admit to scrolling through at two in the morning. It had white clapboard siding, a deep porch with wide stairs, and one of those old school metal roofs that made rainstorms sound like home.
The flower boxes under the windows were still empty, and a massive willow tree stood off to the side, near the clearing. Just beyond that, a pond shimmered in the morning sun. It was quiet, the type of place that made even a chaos-brained guy like me want to kick off his shoes and stay a while.
I didn’t give a damn about the house’s history. Sure, I'd heard the stories everyone in Woodstone loved to tell. The place hadbeen sitting vacant for years, ever since that tragedy with the young boy and his father. I was just starting out in my career when it happened, but I still remembered how the whole town became obsessed with every detail. Half the people called it a freak accident; the other half couldn't resist spinning darker theories. For months, you couldn't walk into The Lodge or the post office without someone bringing it up, dissecting every rumor.
No one wanted the place after that. Said it was cursed. Haunted. Touched by something you couldn’t scrub out with bleach and paint, but I didn’t care. I didn’t believe in ghosts or small-town legends. Noah told me I should sage the place before I moved in. I told her I’d consider it, mostly to keep my brother’s girlfriend from showing up to do it herself.
This house was mine now, bad stories, ghosts, secrets, and all.
