Newton interacted with his family, but watched and listened more than she talked. Absorbing, assessing, analyzing. He wished he had an inkling of what was going on inside that head of hers.
Chances were he would never know.
The lady kept her secrets, and she would be gone soon.
Just yesterday he’d dreaded her arrival.
Now he couldn’t exactly say he looked forward to her leaving.
At times, life could sure twist a guy’s balls.
Hard as he tried, he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering back to the investigation. How could anyone be so warped as to cut out a person’s heart? The idea that the killer from twenty years ago had never been caught seemed even more horrific, given that detail. Kale considered the idea that Valerie Gerard had been murdered soheinously by someone she knew, and his chest tightened. As crazy as it sounded, that idea made the act all the worse.
As much as he wanted to believe, his optimism that Alicia would be found alive was losing oomph fast.
After wine and the homemade chocolate layer cake his mother had insisted they all had to try, Kale helped Newton with her coat. She said her goodbyes to his folks, even got a hug from Polly.
“I’ll walk you out,” he offered.
That she didn’t protest surprised him. She usually made no bones about her ability to take care of herself. Not tonight. She led the way across the porch and down the steps.
At her car she turned to face him. “Thanks, Conner. Tonight was nice.”
“My sister’s a little kooky,” he admitted.
“Your sister is sweet and hilarious.” Newton smiled. “She speaks her mind. I like her.”
That smile, the one he hadn’t seen until tonight, did things to him he wasn’t sure Sarah Newton intended. Man, when her lips parted that way ... amazing. They kept his attention lingering far too long. When he met her gaze, she was watching him ... the way she had been watching his family all night.
He swallowed, yearned to ... no. No. No. Not a good move.
“It’s really not that complicated, Conner.”
An alarm echoed in his head. “What’s not that complicated?” Busted. Again.
“If you want to kiss me, just do it. Life’s too short to spend it wondering if you should have, could have, or if you ever will have the chance again.”
The lady read minds, did she? “I don’t usually—”
“Gimme a break, Conner.”
Before he could put together a witty comeback, she grabbed him by the face, pulled his mouth to hers, and kissed him. His body reacted in ways his brain had no chance in hell of catching up to. He didn’t even want to try.
She kissed him fast and furiously. It was over way too soon.
“See.” She licked her lips. “That wasn’t so hard.”
Whatever he should have said, he didn’t. He threaded his fingers into that silky hair he’d been dying to touch all damned night, and he kissed her back. Slower, deeper. She tasted a little like sweet chocolate and tart wine. Mostly she tasted like soft, hot woman.
He leaned into her. She reclined against the car and her soft curves cradled his rigid frame.
This kiss was never going to be enough.
Her palms glided down his chest, one sliding around his hip to pull him closer.
“This”—he gulped the cold air—“is going to sound like a seriously bad line, but your place or mine?”
“You didn’t get your coat,” she reminded him. Her knee inched between his thighs. Higher. Higher.
