Page 76 of Colton's Last Resort

“I told you. I got called into the station.”

“Adam knows about us. About last night.”

“You told him?” he asked incredulously.

“Josh did. He saw you leaving my bungalow this morning.”

He rocked back on his heels. “I’m surprised I made it through the gate.”

“Do you still want to talk to CJ Knight?”

He nodded. “Someone needs to.”

“He’s returning to Mariposa on the sixteenth,” she told him. “Looks like you’re going to get your shot.”

“What’s he booked for—spa, golf, excursions?”

“I’ll have to check with the front desk,” she replied.

“Find me an in,” he told her, “and I’ll find out if he’s Allison’s killer.”

“I will,” she promised. She looked across the grounds, past the pool to the tumble of rocks on the far horizon. The sun was low. It fanned across her lashes, and he saw they were still wet. Something inside him constricted. “Do you want me to keep Bungalow Fifteen available for you?” she asked.

She could smell the distance he was trying to erect between them. “Yes,” he said, hating that he was too spineless to spend the night in her bed...too terror-struck to put himself at her mercy again.

He’d be a fool to let her play with his heart again.

“Very well,” she said stiffly.

Before she could veer back through the doors to the restaurant, he took her by the elbow. Without thinking, he pulled her in.

As always, he went a step further. He kissed her. Her arms linked underneath his. They fanned across his back, and she made a noise that flipped his restraint like a wrestler’s hold.

He opened his mouth to hers, recapturing the heat from last night. He let it coil around him. It was as if he’d never left.

He tipped his head up and away from hers. Her nails scraped across his scalp, making his mind go dangerously blank.

“Last night, you left a path of little reminders across my skin,” she told him. “I’ve spent the whole day hating you for it.”

Last night, she’d drawn little maps across his soul in carbon black. He’d spent the better part of the day trying to come up with enough elbow grease to erase them. He’d failed miserably.

“Hate me, Laura,” he invited. “It’s better for both of us.” He touched her shoulders and held her away from him. “I’ll see you.”

Her expression folded, but her eyes glinted with promise. “Yes, you will.”

Between the wedding and resort operations, Laura stayed busy. Too busy to think about the man in Bungalow Fifteen or the path between his bungalow and hers that, as promised, remained scant on foot traffic over the next few days. No one questioned why they didn’t spend Valentine’s Day together. The wedding was an all-day spectacle that had her limping back to her house well after hours on Saturday. She found Sebastian waiting for her there alone, demanding Fancy Feast and cuddles on his terms.Just like a man, she thought as she juggled a martini and Sebastian’s large, round form in her favorite corner on the couch.

She ran into Roger Ferraday a handful of times on Sunday and struggled to maintain her demeanor. She skirted Adam, his warnings and assumptions.

Most of which she had to admit were true. She had gotten carried away by the illusion of her and Noah. But not rock star Noah. The real Noah—the one she’d thought she knew. And maybe shewassetting herself up to get hurt.

Maybe she was her mother’s daughter. Maybe she sought the one person she knew would never let her stand beside him without pretense.

When Tallulah tapped on the open door of Laura’s office in L Building on Monday morning, Laura couldn’t have been more relieved to see her. She closed the proposal Adam had prepared for her about a new line of more efficient bulk washing machines he wanted to splurge on for housekeeping. “Right on time, as always,” she greeted her.

Tallulah stepped into the office and closed the door. “Were you expecting me?”

“No,” Laura said, propping her chin on her hands as she watched Tallulah settle into one of the faux cowhide chairs across the desk. “But your visits are always welcome.”

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