In an attempt to occupy herself, she went out for groceries—and yes, peanut butter cups, too. Overheated and sweaty, she wandered the aisles, itching to get home but wary of disappointment. This thing between her and Jackson was so fragile. As substantial as bonfire smoke. Her heart wasn’t much more robust. Leah didn’t know if she was more scared he didn’t share the turbulent feelings keeping her awake at night, or that he did.
She emerged from the general store, blinking in the sunlight, and walked straight into the path of a huge man built like a tank. His meaty hands reached out to steady her and Leah looked up into a full beard, flat lips, and a sharp nose. Aviator sunglasses mirrored her own face in duplicate.
“I’m so sorry—did I tread on your foot?” Leah was pretty sure she had. They both looked down. Her sneakers seemed comically dainty next to The Tank’s black work boots. “Probably didn’t hurt too much, huh?”
She smiled. He didn’t.
“I’ve got a message for you.” His voice held a light lisp. He ran his thumbs over the inside of each of her biceps. The creepy caress was unwelcome.
Leah stepped back, twisting out of his grasp. “For me?”
“Well, no, not actually for you.”
“I didn’t think it could be. Since I don’t know you.” Leah squinted, trying to make out his eyes through the mirrored lenses.
“You need to deliver it.”
“Who to?”
“I was just about to tell you.” A note of irritation crept into his voice and she shifted on her feet, relieved that this odd anti-meet-cute was taking place in the middle of the sidewalk with passersby in earshot. The Tank pushed at the bridge of his sunglasses with one solid finger. “Tell Mr. Hale we’re keeping an eye on you.”
“Which Mr. Hale?” she asked, playing dumb. It was a trick she’d learned from Clayborne Knight’s fourth outing—Too Little Blood. Sometimes the villain of the story could be prompted to give the game away out of sheer exasperation.
He rolled one of his shoulders and sighed. “Both.”
“And you are?” She was almost enjoying this now, leaning into her gumshoe detective character, feeling protected by spotting Ava and Elias Martinez in the window of Diner 43.
“You don’t need to know,” the man growled.
“I do if I’m telling them who’s keeping their eye on me.” Leah ran her gaze over him, paling when she caught a glint of something shiny at The Tank’s waist. She took several quick steps backward. “Actually, don’t worry. I’ll go with a general description.”
Behind her, the door to the general store opened with a ding. “You OK, Leah?” Suspicion coated Marjorie’s query. “Gerry’s inside if you need him.”
“I’m all good!” she squeaked.
The Tank stalked closer until she could count the hairs in his nostrils. His parting words made Leah’s stomach flip. “Pretty flowers on your porch. It needed a splash of color.”
While she was still trying to think of a reply, he spun on his heel and lumbered away. A younger guy joined him from the opposite sidewalk and the pair disappeared around the corner.
Smothering the shiver that trickled over her bare arms, Leah flashed a quick smile at Marjorie to reassure her. Who had she been kidding, acting like some amateur detective? She felt lucky to live in a small town among friends.
“Don’t know what that was about,” she said, with a laugh as fake as her composure, “but thanks for the backup! I’ll see you soon.”
Though she stewed over it on the drive home, the unnerving episode was shoved straight into the shadows when Leah found Jackson’s car parked in front of the house. A burst of wild happiness shimmied through her veins, sending her bouncing up the steps and in through the door.
Still immaculately dressed, although he’d undone the shirt button at his throat and taken off his tie, he sat on the edge of the couch, dangling a glass of water by the rim in one hand. His smile, as he watched her drop the bags in a heap in the foyer and spill into the living room, was slow and exhausted.
“Hey.” Leah pushed her hair off her face and took in the tightness of his shoulders and the kink of his eyebrows.
“Hey, Raven.” The heated welcome in Jackson’s eyes eased through her muscles like a mouthful of brandy. “It’s good to be home.”
Removing the glass from his fingers, she knelt between his knees, and something incendiary flared, arcing from his skin to hers.Oh, thank God!
Leah brought her lips to his mouth, keeping the kiss gentle. Now wasn’t the time to jump him... not just yet. She could tastehis stress, felt his weariness as he pulled her closer. Jackson’s long exhale brushed her cheek.
“Such a nice welcome,” he murmured against her ear. “I missed you.”
Weak with relief, Leah curled her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. The muscles were rigid. She’d tell him about the confrontation in town but not just yet. It could wait.
