“Why did you do that?” she asked, irritated.
“Because you grabbed the gun before you got out of the way.” His face turned hard. “I’m not kidding when I say the gun will go off. It will. And if it’s still pointed at your head, it’s over.”
The severity of what he was saying started to sink in.
“Fine,” she said, working to shake the irritation cycling through her. He could’ve at least given her a few chances to go over it.
He moved into position again. “Tell me what you’re going to dobeforeyou do it. Talk it out. That should help you remember.”
“Duck.” She buckled her knees, dropping out of aim in a blink. “Grab and point up… kick!” She acted each out in turn before he assumed position once more.
“Again.”
She repeated the sequence a few more times before Roman hollered from the kitchen.
“Made to order omelets, ready to go.”
Blayze stepped back from Sophia and looked her up and down.
A trace of heat fluttered over her skin anew.
“Not bad,” he said. “Let’s go get some food.” He opened the door and motioned for her to go first. She went, nearly forgetting all about her objection to doing that very thing.
She considered that as Roman handed over a gorgeously loaded omelet, the aroma causing her mouth to water. It seemed that Blayze had somehow—like her father—worked his way into that sacred part of her heart. The part that fully trusted.
In one sense, Sophia liked knowing that; Blayze Brockton was an incredible man. The stuff true warriors were made from. And his acts of chivalry were decent and pure. But to know she’d let him into such a deep place… something about the idea scared her. Sure, he’d proven to be attracted to her, physically at least. But what if that’s all there was? What if she’d jumped headfirst into the deep end, while he’d somehow kept his feelings to the shallow side of the pool?
“Well, should we say grace?” Roman asked, breaking into her thoughts.
Sophia glanced up. Nodded. And watched Blayze cup his hands and bow his head. While Roman said grace, Sophia sent a thoughtful prayer of her own.God, don’t let me fall too deep.Though she feared it was a little late for that.
Chapter 16
Sophia draped the dishcloth over the faucet to dry before reaching for the hand towel Blayze held out for her. “Thanks,” she mumbled.
The place had gone from loud and buzzing to crickets chirping as soon as their chef-for-the-day took his exit. Roman, who —in his words—tookpride in feeding the tribe— had marched off to the pond again, fishing pole and tackle in hand, hoping to score a few more fish for tonight’s dinner. Leaving she and Blayze to themselves once more.
They’d done the dishes without even the appearance of small talk. Sophia had been wrapped too deeply in her own head. Recalling the kiss they’d shared in that very spot the other night. Only this time she looked back on it differently. Scrutinizing each move for a distinction between lust and love.
Which was foolish. Could love really be an option so soon?
“About those leads,” Blayze said, breaking into the quiet. “I can go over those with you now, if you’d like.”
Sophia hung the hand towel back in its place at the oven. “Sure,” she said. “That’d be great.”
Blayze snatched the iPad off the counter and headed into the family room, taking a seat on the couch by the fireplace.
Instead of snuggling up beside Blayze, Sophia opted to sit across from him on the coffee table.
“Okay,” he started, “we were able to narrow it down to half-a-dozen suspects who had three things in common.
“One, they lost all their money due to their conviction. Andtwo, they expressed a specific frustration that yourfatherlet their case go to trial. In other words, they blamed him. Most people are angry at witnesses, judges, heck—even their own lawyer for not defending them well enough. So, this was a pretty small field, which is a good thing.”
“Okay,” Sophia urged.
“The third is timeframe. Anywhere from the time your father got into the DA’s office and the day of your mother’s death.”
Sophia nodded, already trying to picture what the half-dozen faces might look like.
