“I guess this thing between you and August is still there.”
And there was the jealousy card. Perfect. He was a guy, what did she expect? He would rather assume she was still hung up on another guy than to believe for a second that she could simply live without him.
Sarah turned around. “You see, Conner, this is why I don’t do relationships. They’re messy, and one person always wants it more than the other.”
Those dark, dark eyes reached deep into hers, maybe deeper than anyone had gone before. “You don’t want to know where this”—he gestured to her then to himself—“can go?”
She thought of how it felt to be with him, so damned intense. And of his family, who had that whole warm and fuzzy thing going on, something she’d never had. So tempting, but what if it wasn’t real?
She wasn’t setting herself up for that kind of letdown.
“Goodbye, Conner.” This idealistic fantasy he offered was too big a gamble. She wasn’t that strong or that brave.
He didn’t try to stop her.
She was glad.
The emotions that choked off her ability to breathe would pass.
By the time she reached the inn, she’d just about given up on avoiding the tears.
Damn it.
She would have gone straight inside to get her shit, but something in the backyard lured her attention there. Barton, the innkeeper, was digging or burying something near a cluster of bushes. He patted the dirt with his shovel, chunked a little snow on top of it, and then strode off to the barn.
Strange man.
She went inside and packed her stuff. Dropped her key at the unmanned registration desk and headed for her car. She had no idea where everyone was. More importantly, she no longer cared. She was out of here.
Outside she groaned. Nightfall had awakened the fog.
Her suitcase was in the trunk before she remembered she had to get a receipt. Don would raise hell if she came back, again, without a receipt.
But if there was no one in there, she couldn’t get a receipt. Maybe the innkeeper was back at his post by now. She’d almost made it to the door. Through the window she could see Barton Harvey behind the desk.
It was dark. Not to mention it was foggy as hell.
She should leave.
There was a flight at nine. She could make it.
But she needed that receipt. And she was dying to know what the innkeeper had been up to. She’d recognized that the grumpy old man had something to hide since she’d gotten here. It was more than his dislike of her. It was probably that strange incident between him and Valerie Gerard. And definitely his weird behavior. Not to mention his wife’s overprotectiveness.
What would it hurt to check it out? If the family’s goldfish had croaked, she’d soon know. But if he was burying something else out there, she would know that, too.
She would check to see what the digging was about, and then she’d get her receipt and go. No big deal.
Maybe he’d found a dead rat or something and had decided to dispose of it. Or maybe he’d planted seeds. But that didn’t explain him dumping snow on the spot.
Her curiosity wouldn’t be put off. She made sure he was still behind his desk and she hurried around the corner of the inn. Once she stepped about ten feet from the building, the landscaping lights no longer illuminated the darkness. Even if he looked out now, he wouldn’t see her. It was completely dark over in those bushes. The moon was hiding behind the clouds. She was wearing black.
Go for it.
It was probably nothing. Maybe she just wanted to get back at old Barton for being such a dick the whole time she was here. Served him right. Maybe he’d buried his stash ofHustlermagazines.
She knelt against the rocks bordering the cluster of bushes and dug out her flashlight. She wasn’t about to reach in there without looking first. After confirming the location of the recently disturbed earth andsnow, she tucked her flashlight between her knees. She glanced back at the inn, noted that Harvey was still behind his desk, his back turned to the window.
Do it.She turned on the flashlight and aimed its beam on the spot; hopefully, her body would block most of the light.
