She was a talented cook and enjoyed baking on the side, but she’d always longed for something fancy. Maybe I wanted to get away from Wildwood Meadows, but fancy had never been part of the plan. Give me my truck, a pair of boots, and a hammer, and I was good to go.
27
Lila
The conversation on the drive into town was quiet, though not uncomfortable. Now that East and I were spending time together (what little it had been), I’d started to realize that he was good with the quiet. If anything, he might prefer it. If I wasn’t still reeling, I might have found the energy to banter, but I couldn’t seem to do it. Instead, I stared out at the fields, damp and green after the rain, the mist clinging low along the ground. Farmland and vineyards stretched wide, stubborn against the changing world.
I’d talked to Mia and Sage this morning. Like the friends they were, they rallied and opened the shop for me. Mia had made the executive decision to scratch some things off the menu and run an abbreviated version, like we did sometimes when things got a little hectic. She’d been worried that I’d be upset, but I was so thankful. Sheand Sage had decided on some of our quicker cookies and muffins that would still satisfy customers and be doable for them without needing me in the shop. It made me extra happy for that split-second decision I’d made hiring Mia last year.
East’s truck smelled like cedar and sawdust, and I wondered if that was just him or if it was the work he did. He’d mentioned building up his contracting business again. I thought about his hands, calloused and delicious, and had to turn toward the window before my cheeks betrayed me.
“You’re thinking too hard,” he said, suddenly casting me a look from the driver’s seat where he slouched.
I startled, glancing at him. “Excuse me?”
“That look. You do it when you’re overthinking. It’s loud.”
I huffed a laugh. “Loud? I’m just being quiet as a church mouse over here.”
“A church mouse? Is that something your Gram used to say?” he chuckled. “Maggie says that. And she says that we look like a book left open on the counter.” He gave me another sidelong look, mouth quirking. “Easy to read.”
My heart stuttered.“I like old sayings like that,” I admitted. Old-fashioned to me sometimes said more in a phrase than a whole sentence. “Although I’m not sure why a mouse living in a church would be quiet.”
His breath caught in a little laugh, catching my humor, which I appreciated. I’d had friends in school who thought I was weird, and Derek, well… he’d never been quick enough to figure me out, and I’d stopped trying to explain things I’d said. That was the thing… sometimes it just wasn’t worth it.
“I like the way you think, Lila Merrick. About mice.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Now tell me what you were really thinking about.”
“I was thinking about the fire,” I lied, blushing hard, trying hard not to squirm on the bench seat.
His gaze lingered on me for a beat too long, like he knew better, before he turned back to the road. “Maybe.” He tapped the wheel for a minute. “You know what I was thinking about?” He didn’t stop to pause for an answer, but I licked my lips a little, waiting for him to tell me, and my core tightened a little. “That I liked holding you last night,” he finally added. “I had to get up because Kipp was downstairs knocking around.”
“Oh.” That made me feel better. I’d wondered if there’d be another reason he’d been up before dawn. “I liked you being next to me, too.”
“That’s a good thing, sugar, because I plan to be there again.” He steered the truck into a spot in front of the station between Wade’s cruiser and an unfamiliar Jeep. “I plan to be a lot of places. Mainly between your thighs,” he added just as he got out of the truck, leaving me speechless, a little flustered.
The man getting out of the other vehicle was unmistakably not from around here. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with sandy hair, a jaw dusted with stubble, and the kind of stillness that spoke of training. His jeans and utility shirt blended in, but his eyes didn’t. Sharp. Watchful.
“That’s Briggs, I’m pretty sure,” East muttered as he came around to my door and held out his hand for me. I didn’t really need his help getting out of the truck, but I loved his gentlemanly behavior.
We followed a few steps behind, but I noted the other man clocking us with a quiet nod as he headed straight for Wade’s back office. East’s hand remained on my back as we went through the station, even while I stopped to say a quick hello to Viola at the front. She’d moved into town a few months ago and was still settling in. I liked her, but she always seemed a little overwhelmed.
Wade’s office door was open, his expression grim but steady. “Lila, glad you’re here. East. This is Briggs Carter. He’ll be sticking around for a while.”
Briggs extended a hand. His grip was firm, professional, and his voice was low. “Ms. Merrick. I’m sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances.” He projected a steady confidence that I couldn’t help but admire.
“Me too,” I said honestly. I wasn’t entirely sure what a private security firm could do to help or if they would need to be paid. That worried me. My business did well, but not so well that I could afford to make huge purchases. Not to mention, I now had a mess to deal with at home. I had insurance and a little nest egg, but with the fire, it would deplete those savings.
He inclined his head, then looked to East. “And you must be Wade’s brother. Good to meet you.”
Wade leaned against the desk, arms crossed. “We’re treating this as arson. I already got confirmation from Chief Truman that the fire started near the back porch.Whoever it was used an accelerant.” His gaze shifted to me. “This wasn’t random.”
The room tilted for a second. I gripped the back of a chair. “So someone wants me dead. For real.” I just couldn’t make sense of it.
Silence. Then Briggs spoke, calm and measured. “Someone wanted to send a message. We’ll find out who. I just need to go over a few things with you. Then I’ll go back over to your house and look things over again.”
