Page 145 of Always Be an Us

"You didn’t hear any barking?

"Nah. Remy was in the living room, quiet as a church mouse. Probably napping by the fire."

I turn to Emma. "He wouldn’t have been quiet if it was Xavier breaking in. He would have been barking his head off."

"Who’s Xavier?" Grandpa asks, but Emma doesn't answer. Her eyes widen in horror at the realization.

"Not just Xavier," she says. "He would have barked wildly at any stranger who entered my home."

Meaning whoever broke in wasn’t a stranger. It was someone the dog knew.

"You said Rick gave you the dog, correct?"

"Yeah. He said Poppy found him on the side of the road, stranded after the storm."

Shit.

Rick and Poppy. What were the odds that the two people I suspected both knew the dog?

I didn’t want to tell Emma about my suspicions yet until I was damn sure of them. I wanted to avoid hurting her as much as possible.

But now I don't think I have a choice.

"Emma," I say. "There’s something I need to tell you."

Chapter Forty-Three

Emma

Declan’s expression is so dire that I almost don’t want to ask, but my lips form the words anyway.

"What is it?"

Instead of answering, he turns to my Grandpa and says, "You mind keeping a lookout while we check out the bedroom?"

"No problem," Grandpa answers. "I'll holler if I see anyone, but I might already be done with him before you get down here." He lifts his baseball bat and settles it on his thighs

"All the better," Declan says and pats the older man's shoulder as we walk into the cottage. The living room still looks pretty much how it did after the renovation, but as we climb the staircase, I notice some mud on the wooden floorboards.

The real clue is in my bedroom. Grandpa was right. Whoever left, must have done so in a hurry because all my drawers were pulled out and the window left swinging wide open.

Wind rustles the curtains and Declan walks around, eyes scanning over each feature.

He doesn't say anything. I can tell he doesn'twantto say anything. When he turns to me, there's a pained line sitting on his forehead.

He opens his mouth but not a single word comes out.

Oh, Lord.

Imagine something so bad that even Declan seems unable to choke it out.

I steel myself for whatever tragic news he has for me. I try to figure out what painful, unspeakable thing it might be, but for the life of me, I can't come up with anything.

Or is it about what he almost said back at the hotel before we got cut off by my grandpa's phone call? The word that began with 'l'?

Except I didn't think that was bad news at the time. As silly as it is, I thought he was about to tell me he loved me.

Of course, the minute we left the hotel, I realized how ridiculous that idea was. Declan would never admit to his feelings for me, especially not now. And the fact that he didn't mention it again felt like proof.

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