“Well,” she murmured softly, “that was unexpectedly dangerous.”
Something low flickered through Grant’s expression then.
Not amusement exactly.
Something warmer.
Grant looked at the sketch of the young, dangerous-looking Wade Hollis.
“If Wade Hollis is involved…” Grant started, then stopped. Whatever he’d been about to say, he seemed to think better of it. His mouth tightened once. “Never mind. We’ll ask my dad atthe party on Saturday. He was the sheriff back then. If a woman went missing on this ridge or if there was any trouble at the Talley place, Burton would be the one with the file.”
He glanced toward the dark window, then back to her, the kitchen light catching the golden thatch of his blonde hair and the rough, golden-brown grit of a five o’clock shadow along his jaw.
“I’m heading up to bed,” he said. “Go get some sleep, Izzy.”
“Then let’s hope your dad has a long memory,” she said, closing her laptop.
Grant nodded once, turned, and headed toward the stairs.
Izzy didn’t follow him right away. She stayed at the island for a few minutes, letting the frantic hum in her veins settle into something manageable. She gathered their empty plates and carried them to the sink, running the warm water to rinse away the remnants of the Sunday sauce. The domestic quiet of the kitchen felt strange, heavy with the ghost of their conversation.
Once the sink was clear, she gathered her laptop and the sketchbook against her, the heavy mystery of Clara’s life following her as she finally made her way up the stairs to the guest room.
Safe inside, she slipped out of her clothes and changed into her charcoal sleep clothes. She grabbed her toiletry bag, preparing for her nightly ritual—the meticulous, grounding routine of serums and skincare she refused to skip, even in the middle of a mountain valley.
Holding her bag, she stepped out into the hallway to head to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
Right as she reached the landing, the bathroom door clicked open.
Grant stepped out.
Izzy stopped dead.
The air left her lungs all at once.
He had clearly just finished his own bedtime routine. He’d brushed his teeth, his blonde hair was mussed from a towel, and he was wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung gray sweatpants. No shirt. No barriers.
Just a sprawling expanse of broad, sun-darkened shoulders, a chest built from actual, brutal labor, and a sharp V-line disappearing into the cotton of his pants. Up close, the low hallway light traced the hard planes of his torso and the rugged, golden scratch of stubble framing his mouth. He looked less like the steady rancher she’d been arguing with all week and more like a very bad decision standing barefoot in a doorway. Izzy didn’t look away. In fact, she let her eyes do a slow, deliberate, unblinking drag down the length of his body, and back up—giving him the exact same thorough, appreciative assessment he’d inflicted on her the night before.
Grant caught her looking. A muscle in his jaw jumped beneath that five o’clock shadow as he braced one hand against the doorframe, effectively cutting the small hallway in half. His chest rose, the space suddenly feeling suffocatingly tight.
Izzy stood there in her tiny camisole and silk shorts, her pulse giving a loud, violent thud against her ribs.
“Oh,” she murmured, her voice dropping an octave. “Well. Good night.”
She made a move to step past him toward the bathroom, her shoulder nearly brushing his bare skin. As she reached his side, she paused, tilting her face up with a slow, dangerous little smile.
“Sweet dreams, cowboy.”
Grant didn’t move out of the way. He let out a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated right through the floorboards beneath her bare feet.
“Yeah,” he rasped, his eyes dropping to her mouth before locking back onto hers, stormy and dark. “Sweet dreams alright. Not with the way you look.”
Izzy stopped. She turned around to face him fully, her back pressing against the hallway wall.
She didn’t even have time to reply.
Grant closed the remaining inches between them, his hand coming up to cup the back of her neck, his fingers tangling into her dark hair as he leaned down and kissed her.
