The memory of Scarlett lying over the desk flashed in her mind.
Her heart thumped, panic crawling up her throat.
“Clara.”
She spun to see Holden. He stood there, shirtless, his perfectly sculpted chest on full display. But it was the concern in his eyes that held her attention. When he looked at her that way, she just wanted to fall apart in his arms. Let him hold her. Protect her.
He stepped forward. “Are you okay?”
“I was angry at her.”
“What?”
“The last thing I said to Scarlett was that I could have been a great friend. Then I stormed off.”
“You couldn’t have known what was about to happen.”
She swallowed hard as she turned back to the bedroom. “I need to know who killed her. I need to know if it was anyone from the hospital. I need—”
“Hey.” With gentle but firm fingers on her waist, he turned her back to him. “Wewillget answers. Jesse will make sure of it.”
She nodded, even though she wasn’t as confident as Holden. But maybe that was because she wasn’t used to this kind of stuff, while he’d spent years in special operations.
He tilted his head toward the hall. “Come on.”
“I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see her.” She fisted her hands to stop the trembling.
He saw. Of course he did. He saw everything.
Gently, he took her hand, uncurled it, and slipped his fingers through hers. “Not sleep. We’re going to heat up some croissants.”
She frowned. “What?”
“I saw them in your freezer. Come on. We’ll add some Nutella.”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“You’re right…we need hot cocoa too.”
He led her toward the kitchen. Then, without a word, he lifted her to sit on the island.
She gasped. “What are you doing?”
“I’m making you Nutella croissants and hot cocoa. And you’re going to sit right there so you don’t feel the urge to help. In fact…” He opened her pantry door and searched for a moment before finding her jar of Nutella, uncapping it, and shoving a spoon inside. He handed her the jar. “You can eat this to keep you busy.”
Despite the night they’d had, a small hint of a smile stretched her lips.
She watched as Holden moved around the kitchen like he’d lived there for months.
“Distract me,” she said quietly, as she swirled the Nutella with the spoon. “Tell me if you’re happy you moved to Amber Ridge.”
“Very happy. There wasn’t much left for me in Minnesota. My best friend and his family were here.”
“Yourfamily too.”
He gave her a gentle smile before taking the croissants out of the freezer and turning on the toaster oven. “My family too.”
She lifted the spoon to her mouth, and the sugary Nutella hit her tongue. “I’m sorry you lost your mother.”
