Page 80 of End Game

She kissed his chest. “Children aren’t part of it, but they’re not not part of it, if that makes sense.”

“Weirdly, yes.” His embrace tightened and his fingers made lazy circles on her bare hip. “A busy life and no Mr. Soulmate. Yet.”

“Exactly.” Would Ash be a good father? Husband? She forced her thoughts to safer territory. “I noticed your walking stick. Do you do a lot of hiking?”

The muscles beneath her hand tensed and an uncomfortable silence blanketed them. When he finally spoke, regret edged his words. “Not in a long while.”

“Too busy?” she ventured, knowing instinctively that wasn’t the reason.

“On the fourth Sunday of every month, without fail, my dad would take me and my brothers to a new hiking spot. Sometimes we finished the trail in thirty minutes, sometimes it took us hours.”

“What a great bonding experience. I’m sure you cherish those moments more now than you ever did at the time.”

He rested his cheek against the spot where his lips had been only moments before. “In ways I can’t even articulate.”

“Did your dad make the stick for you?”

He lifted his head. “On our first hike, Dad ordered us to go into the woods and find a five-foot long by one-and-a-half-inch branch.”

Glancing up, she caught his smile. “Boys will be idiot boys?”

“Bigger is always better, right?”

She straightened into a sitting position, brushing her hand over the growing bulge beneath the sheet.

A hiss escaped his lips, and Kayla took pleasure in the effect she had on him. “How old were you?”

“Ten, I think. Phin was a little guy, riding on Dad’s back for the first year or two. But he still had his own wand-sized stick.”

From her conversations with Liv, she knew pancreatic cancer had taken Duke Blackwell’s life thirteen years ago. Ash took over the family towing/repo business and kept it running for eight years until he decided to follow his dream to work for the FBI.

His departure hadn’t set well with Zeke, which seemed to be a sore spot between the two brothers, to this day. It was plain to see why he’d held on to the length of wood all these years. A symbol of family, of unity.

Squeezing her hip, he changed the subject. “Now, about that name . . .”

His meaning didn’t immediately sink in, then she recalled their conversation before their hormones had taken over. Her heart tripped and stumbled before it settled into a steady gallop.

“I want to repeat that I don’t think this person was capable of killing Vicky, yet I don’t want my bias to leave a stone unturned.”

“Noted.”

Kayla took a breath and forced the name out. “Linda Collier.” The walking stick drew her attention. A symbol of a family’s better times. “Vicky’s daughter.”

38

Ash checked his surprise.

He’d anticipated a political rival or a disgruntled aide or even a sexual relationship gone bad. But he’d never considered that the governor’s only child could be responsible.

“Why Linda?” he asked.

He watched in amazement as she gathered herself, setting aside whatever personal feelings she had for the woman in order to answer his question.

“She had such hate in her heart for her mother.”

Ash turned her limp hand over and wove his fingers between hers. His pulse quickened when she clutched tightly to the comfort he offered.

“Do you know why?” he asked.

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