Hot. Liquid. Needy.
A run of abstract thoughts crisscrossed Darby’s mind as she fought to keep up with Finn. Or fought to keep up with his mouth, which was more accurate at the moment.
Want—elemental and desperate—coursed through her body, tightening her nerve endings and making her skin feel as if it were on fire. Everywhere he touched seemed to explode with feeling. Every place his fingers settled lit from within.
She wasn’t sure what had happened. One moment she was still fussing over a twisted curl that wouldn’t lay straight and the next she was wrapped up in Finn’s arms, being positively devoured. Thoughts of that errant curl fled as she got into the moment. After all, how often did a gal get devoured by a big, handsome man in her own living room?
And, oh, it was glorious.
Large hands covered her hips, pulling her flush against the hard planes of his body while his mouth maintained a steady pressure on hers, dragging sensation after sensation from somewhere inside her she hadn’t even realized existed. Some deep well of feeling and emotion and need she’d never known—or even comprehended—was there.
Yet Finn knew. And he’d unerringly found it, with his kind eyes and his sexy lips and his determination to give his town peace and calm once more.
She’d bought the brightly colored dress on sale earlier in the week and even at a steep discount, she’d berated herself a bit for the extravagance. Now, feeling his hands over the thin fabric, Darby knew it had been the right call.
His mouth slanted over hers once more, greedily, and she amended her thought.
The exact right call.
“Finn?” His name bubbled to her lips, her questions in all she didn’t say.
“Darby.” He pressed his forehead to hers, a smile forming on his lips. “Did I mention you look beautiful tonight?”
“I’m pretty good at reading between the lines.”
“So you don’t have to, let me say it again. You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She nipped his lips for one more kiss before stepping back. Before stepping away from a man who could not only make her lose all rational thought but, if he only asked her, could likely convince her to stay in all evening. When the image of making love with him accompanied the mental invitation, she took another step back, putting solid distance between them.
“Let me just put down food for Penny and Lucy, and we can get going.” She puttered nervously into the kitchen, her heels tapping against the linoleum as she crossed back and forth from the sink to the pantry for their water and food.
What had she been thinking?
More, what had he been thinking?
This was platonic. They’d had their moments, of course. Those fleeting kisses meant to fool anyone watching them from afar.
But this? In her house? It was so fierce. So needy.
Darby fought the small shudder that raced down her spine and finished preparing dinner for the dogs.
With that small moment of distraction over, there was no reason to remain in the kitchen. As she tap-tap-tapped her way toward the living room, she prayed for strength.
Strength to resist the most amazing man she’d ever met.
* * *
Finn pulled Darby’s chair out and fought the urge to tug at one of the loose curls that covered her head. They’d kept up a veneer of vague conversation in the car—their earlier visit with baby Lora had provided an excellent subject to distract them both—and he’d grasped at the conversational lifeline like a drowning man.
The chatter had kept them both from discussing what had happened in her living room.
What had happened in her living room? And when had he lost his focus?
He was running a murder investigation—the worst that had ever hit Red Ridge. He had no business stealing kisses from a woman who was only helping him do his job. More than that, he had no business wanting kisses from her.
“Smile, Finn.”
“Hmm?” He still stood beside Darby’s chair and it was only her pointed gaze and the lift of her hand to his cheek that had him refocusing.
“Smile, darling. We’re the focus of the entire restaurant. It would hardly do to make people think I was dating a grizzly bear.”
The grizzly bear comment was a funny one and he suddenly had the image of sprouting hair all over his body and roaring down Main Street. With a smile, he lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. Whether it was the indulgent smile she gave him or the heat from earlier he couldn’t quite shake, Finn wasn’t sure, but he used his position to run his tongue lightly along the seam of her palm.
Indulgence shifted to desire in a heartbeat as her eyes went a smoky gray.
“Finn?” Her voice was as smoky as her eyes and as equally powerful.
Again, she used only his name. And again, that same impulse that pushed him earlier had him in its thrall once more, rushing through his body and forcing his ardor higher and higher.
Satisfied he’d made his point—and well aware he’d tempted himself equally—he squeezed her hand before gently settling it back on the table and taking his seat.
Their waiter, who’d hovered a discreet distance away, rushed over, menus in hand. The restaurant specialized in seafood, crafting dishes each night that could be inspired from anywhere. From the Pacific Rim to West Coast cuisine to the Mediterranean, the chef was whimsical and eclectic and had created a place with good buzz and consistently satisfied patrons.
Although he saw relatively few young couples—the lifeblood of a hip, happening place—Finn was pleased to see the restaurant was full. Maybe this was one place people still felt comfortable coming out for the night.
“Welcome to Pesce this evening,” their waiter gushed. “We’re so glad to have you.”
The specials were duly noted and drink orders taken—wine for Darby and another one of the endless club sodas for Finn—before their waiter disappeared once more.
“I’ve heard good things about this place but haven’t been here. Red Ridge has certainly improved its restaurant game in the past few years.”
As conversation topics went, it was an easy one, empty of land mines. But Finn realized it gave him an opening he’d been curious about.
“Red Ridge is small, but between Colton Energy and Harrington Incorporated, there’s enough business to keep things hopping in town. And enough people on their payroll who can afford to eat like this all the time.”
“I suppose.” She nodded and sipped the wine the waiter had set down. “It’s progress and it’s good to see. But it does make me think of what it was like when I was a kid. I couldn’t have imagined a place like this, let alone expected to dine in one.”
“You didn’t go out much?”
“I had a single mother on a limited income. A place like this was so far out of our reach it was laughable.”
Darby’s gaze was distracted by the large mosaic mural of a mermaid hovering over undersea treasure. He waited until she returned her attention from the wall to him. “You don’t say much about her.”
“My mother?” When he only nodded, she continued. “There’s not much to say. My father ran out when I was young and she blamed him and me until the day she died.”
“When was that?”
“About five years ago. She worked two jobs until the very end and was found crumpled up against the Dumpster behind the diner.”
Darby’s words formed an image and Finn realized he remembered that day.
Vividly.
The small, slender woman found victim of a heart attack out behind the diner. She’d taken a large bag of trash outside and hadn’t come back. It had only been when another waitress had gone out for a coffee break that she’d found Darby’s mother.
“I’m sorry.”
Darby’s blue gaze remained direct and devoid of tears. “I am, too. I’m sorry she saw the world through such disillusioned eyes. And I’m sorry that her life ended as miserably as the rest of it. But I’m not sorry she’s gone.”
“That’s understandable.”
“Is it? She was my mother.”
“Is it fair I can barely think of my stepmother without adding a mental string of curses to go with it?” Finn knew their situations weren’t the same but also knew they weren’t entirely different, either. Joanelle’s behavior—and her inability to love a small boy—belonged solely to her.
On some level, he’d always known that. But after seeing how Carson had bonded with his niece, Lora—a child he would adopt through marriage—Finn knew Joanelle’s rejection had been that of a bitter and cold woman.
Carson had accepted Lora as his own and would never treat her as less than because she wasn’t biologically his. It was a gift they’d both share—and a love that would grow through the years.
“She’s earned every one of those curses, Finn. She emotionally mistreated a little boy. That’s terrible.”
Darby’s ready defense touched him, but it also reinforced the point he was making to her. “And what your mother did was any better?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I suppose not.”
He reached out and ran the tip of his finger over her cheek, catching a lone tear that had finally surfaced. “I’m sorry to make you cry.”
“It’s okay. I’ve had a long time to come to grips with how I feel. Most of the time I’m okay with it. Every now and again, I’m not.”
“I feel the same. Most days I don’t give Joanelle Colton a second thought. For some reason, she’s been front and center in my thoughts lately.”
The waiter came back and took their orders, the small reprieve enough to give Finn an opportunity to collect his thoughts. Once they’d ordered, he picked up where they’d left off. “I saw my younger sister Valeria today.”
He filled Darby in on the impromptu visit with Valeria and Vincent and their naive dismissal of the danger in town from the Groom Killer.
Darby’s already pale skin grew even more so in the muted lighting of the restaurant. “You don’t think someone would hurt them? They’re just children.”
“I don’t know what to think. And since we can’t seem to get a handle on motive or anyone who might be a suspect aside from my cousin Demi, I told them to be careful.”
“Do you think they’ll listen?”
Finn thought about the subtle defiance in both of them to be together, but was also reminded of how innately kind they were to each other. There was something genuine and loving between them. He had to hope that underlying concern would override any youthful impulses to tempt fate.
“I think so. I’ll keep an eye on them. The staff will watch out for them, too.”
“Youth.” She smiled before shrugging her shoulders. “I know it’s been a decade since I was that age, but it feels like a lifetime ago.”
“Would you go back if you could?”
“Never.” A warm smile filled her face and, once again, he was caught. Captured by whatever it was that lit her up from the inside. “You?”
“Go back to being that young and dumb? No way.”
She reached over and took his hand, lifting her glass with the other. “To adulting. Some days it stinks but at other times it’s not so bad.”
“Like now?” he asked, daring to hope she agreed.
“Like right now.”
He clinked his club soda against her wineglass, the light tinkle rising between them. “To adulting.”
* * *
The muted lights of the restaurant didn’t hide a clear picture of the diners inside. Table after table filled with people having a good time and enjoying their expensive meals.
Expensive and wasteful.
Who spent that kind of money on something you could pull out of the river yourself? It was indulgent. And greedy.
And hurtful.
Once again, the chief was parading around town with that woman. She pranced beside him, a colorful whore in the dress that wrapped tight around her body and the hair teased out to draw a man’s eye.
She’d believed the chief above such trickery.
Yet here he was, kissing the woman’s hand and holding the chair for her and staring at her as if she’d walked out of a movie set. Actresses were whores, too, which only reinforced the point.
It was illusion.
Yet the chief’s adoration looked very, very real.
Oh, how it burned.
She’d watched and waited...and for what? To be ignored and discarded in favor of some scantily dressed woman who lured him to her bed? Did the chief not understand? Had he not received her gifts?
An image of the fragile glass still nestled in its box in her closet drifted through her thoughts. She’d meant to save it for Valentine’s Day. That was less than a week away. Could she wait? Or did she need to send it sooner?
Thoughts drifting as she sat in her car and stared into the restaurant, she imagined that glass heart beating in its box. Beating with love for her.
Beating the way her own heart pulsed and throbbed for Chief Colton.
If he only knew.
They had a connection. And once he understood that, the rest would fade away. The whore in the colorful dress meant nothing. Would mean nothing.
She’d make sure of it.
* * *
Darby snuggled deeper into her coat as she and Finn walked to the SUV. The air was cold and clear, the stars shining above them like glittering diamonds. It was cliché, but as she watched them shine from afar, she knew it was the only description that fit.
Red Ridge had grown since she was a child. It had prosperous businesses and a population of busy, industrious people. But it was still small enough to feel isolated and free, somehow. The Black Hills National Forest provided the perfect backdrop—wilderness for miles on end—and the Spearfish River added another natural border.
She’d not traveled much in her life, but she’d been to Seattle and Portland and had liked both. Had even enjoyed her time away. But neither had felt like home. The steady stream of strangers who had passed her on the street had seemed foreign and, while not threatening, just separate from her. The thought of trying to make a life in that throng of humanity hadn’t appealed and she’d welcomed the flights home with open arms.
Maybe she wasn’t so different from her mother, but she liked to think she’d channeled her needs and wants a bit differently. She stayed in Red Ridge because she chose to, not because she lacked options.
Which might have been laughable when she’d stared down a mountain of debt and an uncertain future. Yet even then, she’d been focused on doing right. By Bo. By Penny. And by the business that had meant so much to her ex-husband.
Never once had she felt trapped.
Without warning, the thought shifted and strangled, her adrenaline spiking as her gaze shifted toward the dark night that surrounded the parking lot. She reached for Finn’s hand, so close to her own, and came to a tottering halt on her heels.
“What is it?”
“Someone’s out there.”
She kept her voice low, turning into his body to keep up the charade of closeness and to shroud her voice in the clear night air. Rising on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his ear. “Out there. I can feel it. Someone’s watching us.”
Finn’s demeanor shifted immediately, his arm tightening around her waist as he held her in place. “Do you see anyone?”
“No. I feel them, but that’s the best I can tell you.”
He wrapped himself around her, shielding the majority of her body with his own. “I want you to get in the car and call for backup.”
“Where are you going?”
“To check it out.”
“What?” The screech edged out the whisper in her voice as she tried to slow his steady march toward the SUV. “You can’t go out there by yourself.”
“I have a gun.”
“Maybe they do, too.”
“It might be nothing.”
“And it might be something.” She tried standing still, pressing the back of her forearm against his flat, muscled stomach, but he continued to move them forward.
“In the car, Darby. Now.”
Arguing with him was impossible and she almost wished she hadn’t said anything when the throb of an engine roared to life.
“In the car. Now!” Finn had the door open and was shoving her inside, before slamming the door after her. She saw the glint of his gun reflected in the overhead lights of the parking lot and watched him race off.
What had she done?
Scrambling for her cell phone, she called in the situation, speaking as calmly as possible with her heart throbbing in her throat. She gave their location and the details as best as she could, stressing over and over that the chief needed backup.
“Where are you, ma’am?” The disembodied voice echoed through the phone, the urgency there suddenly penetrating her fear for Finn.
“I’m in the chief’s car.”
“Is a dangerous threat nearby?”
Threat?
Darby had ignored the parking lot, so focused on Finn’s retreating back and on calling for help. Now she looked around. The parking lot was well lit, but the dark night beyond seemed to close in around that light, leaving lurking shadows at the edges.
“Ma’am?”
“Yes.”
“Is there an immediate danger to you?”
“I don’t think so,” she said, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears.
“I’ve dispatched backup but I need you to stay on the line with me.”
“Okay.”
“My name is Frank. Frank Lanelli. I need you to stay where you are and lock your doors.”
Darby fumbled the lock switch, the snick a small comfort in the creeping quiet.
“Did you do that?”
Frank’s voice was kind yet firm and she found herself nodding, even if he couldn’t see her. “Yes.”
“Our chief’s a fine man. I’ve got backup on the way. You can probably hear the sirens already.”
At Frank’s words, the distinct notes that screamed emergency came in muted through the SUV’s windows. “Yes, I hear them.”
“Now, who am I talking to?”
“Darby, sir. Darby Gage.”
“Why, Ms. Gage, I had a feeling it was you.” Frank’s kind voice calmed her and she listened to him rattle on, securing information as he went.
“I heard you and the chief were headed out for the evening. Small towns and all. Took you to Pesce, did he?”
“Yes.”
“Our chief is a sucker for a good meal and a pretty lady.”
Darby smiled in spite of herself and the situation. “Frank, are you flirting with me?”
“Only to stay young. I’m a happily married man with five children of my own.”
“Your wife is a lucky woman.”
“She’s the love of my life, Ms. Darby. Don’t think there’s a day that goes by that I don’t know I’m the lucky one.”
As she sat there huddled in the SUV, the flash of red and blue growing clearer through the front window, Darby figured Mrs. Lanelli was one lucky woman. And she was deeply grateful to her for sharing her husband for the evening to calm a frightened woman shivering inside an empty SUV.
One who waited for confirmation that the man who protected her would come back safe.