Page 15 of Lost in the Moonlight

The owner’s booming voice drew me out of my thoughts and back to him. “That was good of you.”

I shrugged.

“What can I get you?”

“I don’t see the chocolate I’m smelling,” I told him.

His eyes sparkled. “Mexican brownie scones. Recipe myabuelaswore me to secrecy on and that Willow has somehow improved, which is surely causingAbuelitato turn over in her grave.” He huffed out a laugh at himself. “They’ll be out in just a few minutes. What can I get you to drink while you wait?”

“Large s’more tea, thanks,” I told him.

He nodded and set about making it. When he placed it on the counter, I stuffed my hand into my pocket only to realize I’d left my wallet at home and my phone along with it. I winced, thinking of the messages I’d likely have from my family.

“I forgot my wallet. Just put it aside, if you don’t mind. I’ll run home and get it. I live right down the street. I’ll be back in five.”

Just as I said the last words and started to turn away, the door from the kitchen opened, and Willow walked through carrying a large tray. It was my first time seeing her without her puffy coat, and the T-shirt she wore beneath a white apron showed off surprisingly strong arms. The muscles flexed as she shifted the tray from one shoulder to the other, easily contradicting my skin-and-bone theory from earlier this morning.

Her eyes met mine, darting around the room and then back as if looking to see if I’d been followed…by who I didn’t know. Maybe my detail. Or Poco.

“Lincoln!” My name escaped her lips and went straight to my chest before settling in my groin. Her voice was airy and light. Breathless almost. And I suddenly wanted her breathless for an entirely different reason. I needed that sound to escape her lips while my hands and mouth drank in her sugary-scented skin. And damn if that didn’t irritate me all over again. Wanting her. Wanting anyone.

My voice was thick and dark with need and irritation as I said, “I see you didn’t have any more trouble.”

“Trouble? What trouble?” Worry coasted over the owner’s face. “Did someone bother you this morning, Willow?”

Her gracefully shaped pale brows pushed together, and she shot me a glare as she slid the tray into the case. She hadn’t wanted this man to know she’d been accosted in the cemetery. I understood not wanting to worry the people you cared about, but I was almost certain Poco wasn’t just going to slink away without exacting some kind of retribution. His sickly cheerful whistle as he’d left had said as much.

The people around her needed to be aware and involved so I could back the hell out of her life, which was why I coughed up the truth she obviously didn’t want to give. “She had some trouble with a man named Poco early this morning.”

Willow turned toward the owner and put her hands out as if to hold him back as he took a step toward the back door. “It was nothing, Hector. Seriously.” She blocked his path, pushing against his chest. “Don’t start something with Tall Paul.”

The panic in her voice caused the first shot of doubt to hit me. I didn’t know the players. I didn’t know what had really goneon. So why was I pushing this? Why was I inserting my foot in when all it could do was bring trouble to my door that neither my family nor I could afford?

My therapist would have laughed at the inane question because the truth was glaringly simple. I’d never turn away from a woman in need, because I couldn’t shoulder any more guilt if I did. It would bury me.

The irritated look Willow sent my way was nothing.

It was too damn bad if she was upset.

I’d do anything to make sure she didn’t end up lying amongst the tombstones where I’d found her.

Chapter Six

Willow

BREATHE

Performed by Kenzie

I blew out a breath asannoyance and worry sped through me in equal measure, taking the good mood I’d finally settled myself into as I’d baked this morning and sending it back into the ether. Hector did not need to get involved in this. Who knew what would happen if he started something with one of Paul’s henchmen? A flash of a body riddled with bullets hitting the ground whipped through me before I could stop it.

“What happened?” Hector demanded. “Did he try to get into the shop? If he did, I’ll have it on camera. We can give it to Dexter and his deputies, and they’ll follow up on it.”

I shook my head, putting a hand on Hector’s arm, attempting to both reassure him and hold him back. “No. Nothing happened here. It’s fine. A little misunderstanding. Lincoln interrupted us, but I’m sure I would have been able to work it out.”

Lincoln grunted his disagreement, and I shot him another glare, hoping he’d take the hint.

“Where were you?” Hector demanded.

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