Page 85 of The Murder Club

“Kids?” The word came out as a squeak.

“Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have said that out loud,” he admitted. “But I very much hope you want to spend your future with me.”

There was a long silence, as if Bailey was adjusting to the thought of having him around forever. Then she shifted in her seat, turning so she could study his profile.

“Have you ever been married before?”

“No. I assumed I’d be single forever,” he admitted. “And honestly, I wasn’t bothered by the thought.”

“You like being single?”

It wasn’t a trick question; still, Dom understood that his answer was important.

“It wasn’t so much that I liked being single, but I understood that I wasn’t ready to share my life with anyone else. Not when I was struggling to figure out who I was. Or, more importantly, who I wanted to be.” The memories of his earliest days in America had been a blur of survival. Living on the streets without friends and barely able to speak the language had been a challenge. Thankfully, he’d endured, and the harsh lessons had taught him that he could not only survive but thrive on his own. It also taught him to take pride in his accomplishments. He hadn’t cheated or lied or manipulated people to get ahead. He’d earned every penny that went into his pocket. Now that he’d reached a place where he was happy with himself, he was ready to share his life with the woman who’d taught him the meaning of joy. “It took a while, but I concentrated on building my career and surrounding myself with people who were focused on making a better life for themselves.”

“Kaden?”

“Yes.”

Kaden hadn’t been quite as lost as Dom when he first arrived in California, but it was close. He was young and broke and alone. Being able to offer him a helping hand had given Dom a sense of satisfaction. As if he’d realized he had finally reached a point of success in his life.

“It sounds like you know what you want.”

“I do.” He shot her a quick glance. “And who I want it with.”

She heaved a loud sigh. “I’m not nearly so put together. I have no idea if I’m going back to my job or—”

“Do you want to be with me?” he interrupted.

“Yes.”

Dom smiled. There hadn’t been a second of hesitation in her answer. She might have doubts about what she wanted to do with her career, but she had made the decision to be with him. At least for now.

“Good. That’s all that matters,” he assured her. “It’s just you and me and what makes us happy.”

“You and me against the world,” she added.

“It feels like that. But we’re going to figure this out. I promise. Starting with the pretend Ford Smithson.”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he turned into the back parking lot of the hunting lodge. He wished Bailey would wait in the vehicle while he confronted the mystery man, but he knew he would be wasting his breath to try to convince her to stay. Besides, there was a part of him that needed to have her in sight at all times. As if he sensed that the moment he couldn’t see her, something terrible would happen. Not very logical, but his feelings for Bailey had nothing to do with logic.

“And hopefully ending with the pretend Ford Smithson,” she said as she unhooked her belt and shoved open the passenger door. She waited for him to join her near the hood of the Land Rover, glancing around with a small frown.

“I don’t see his truck.”

She was right. When they were there the first time there had been a silver truck parked near the steps that led toward the nearby lodge. Today the parking lot was empty.

“It might be parked in the garage.” He nodded toward the long structure that ran the length of the lot. It had four bays with heavy steel doors and a tin roof that had long ago rusted. “Last time we were here the first two bays were open. I noticed because there was graffiti spray-painted on the back wall. It seemed out of place around here.”

Bailey studied the lodge. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out if the mystery man is around.”

With a nod, Dom led her up the slope and around the edge of the lodge to the front porch. Reaching the front door, Dom rapped on the wooden frame loud enough to echo through the large building. A minute passed, and then another. He rapped again. Still no answer.

Hissing in frustration, Dom grabbed the doorknob. It refused to budge.

“Locked,” he muttered, moving to the nearest window and peering through the glass.

“Can you see anything?” Bailey asked.

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