“Yes, and I have to say?—”
“Izzy,” Darcy cut in sharply, clearing her throat.
Izzy gave her a sly look, but Burke only smiled faintly, watching Darcy with interest. He seemed to read more into her interruption than she had intended. The way his brow arched ever so slightly made Izzy think he was a man who noticed everything.
“Well, I’ll let you ladies catch up,” he said after a moment, slipping back into his usual politeness. “I should head home.”
“Ohhh, no,” Izzy countered quickly, not ready to let go of the game. “Don’t let me run you off, Sheriff.”
“Burke,” he corrected gently.
She leaned against the back of a chair, mischievous. “No, I think I’ll stick with Sheriff. It has such a nice ring to it—don’t you think?”
His chuckle was low and warm. “No complaints here.”
“Then tell me, Sheriff,” Izzy went on, her eyes dancing, “how have you been keeping my girl occupied while she’s been here?”
Darcy groaned softly, shooting her friend a warning look. Izzy only smirked, clearly enjoying herself. Burke, though, stayed relaxed, letting the banter play out as if he could wait forever to see where it led.
They shared a drink, laughter loosening the edges of the moment, though Darcy couldn’t quite shake the nervous flutter beneath her calm. Burke’s gaze kept flicking her way, unyielding and unreadable.
They passed around the takeout, eating straight from the cartons between sips and teasing each other with conversation, the warmth of it briefly masking the undercurrent of tension.
When at last he rose to leave, he lingered at the door. “It was a pleasure, Izzy. I look forward to seeing you again.”
“My pleasure,” she replied, her eyes widening with a sly grin. “Sheriff, let’s do drinks later this week, shall we?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Darcy walked him out on the porch. Burke leaned closer, brushing a soft kiss across her cheek.
“Our conversation,” he said quietly, his voice dropping into something more intimate, “to be continued?”
She nodded, biting her bottom lip—her nervous tell. His eyes flickered to the motion, taking note of it.
Burke
When he slid into his truck, he sat for a long moment, fingers drumming the steering wheel. His mind wasn’t on Izzy’s teasing or even Darcy’s blush. It was on the gun.
Why was Darcy carrying one? What kind of danger made her feel she needed it?
Burke stared out at the dark street. In his years as sheriff, he’d seen all kinds of women carry weapons—cops who wore them as tools of the job, battered women who held them as a last resort, criminals who thought a pistol made them invincible. But Darcy? She didn’t fit any of those neat categories. There was something about the way she hid it, tucked deep in that tote, as though it wasn’t just protection but a matter of survival.
He’d promised himself he wouldn’t push her before she was ready, but that gun spoke volumes she wasn’t saying. Whatever it was—whatever she was running from—it wasn’t small.
If she was carrying a gun, then her past wasn’t just chasing her. It was hunting her.
Darcy & Izzy
The cottage was quiet after Burke left, the rumble of his truck fading into the night. Darcy leaned against the door, her breath uneven, trying to steady herself.
Izzy curled up on the couch, her dark curls wild around her face. The sight of her was such a comfort.
Darcy crossed the room quickly, her eyes shining. “I’m so happy you’re here. When I opened the door and saw you standing there, I thought I was dreaming. Thank you so much for coming.” She beamed as she squeezed Izzy’s hands. “Are you sure you weren’t followed? I’m so sorry about your break-in, Iz. I wish I had never dragged you into this. I’ve made such a mess.”
Izzy squeezed her hands back, calm as ever. “Hey, don’t do that. You didn’t drag me anywhere—I came because I love you. And no, I wasn’t followed. Whoever trashed my place, I took care of it. You don’t need to carry that guilt on top of everything else.”
Darcy sank onto the sofa beside her, pulling the throw blanket into her lap. The fire popped in the hearth, shadows dancing across the cottage walls, making the tiny space feel safe—though Darcy knew better. Safety was always temporary. She glanced at the windows, at the locks she’d checked twice, and still the unease crept in.
