Page 31 of The White Picket Fence

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Wednesday, March 30, 7:25 p.m.

“This isn’twhat I meant by lying low,” Tino grumbled, sitting on a stool at Charlotte’s kitchen island as she organized ingredients.

Charlotte knew he was irritated by her refusal to give up her evening plan of cooking for her neighbors. She hadn’t remembered about Kayla, though. Not until Mrs. Lewis texted, asking if it was really okay if Kayla came over for a cooking lesson.

Charlotte and Tino had been at the hospital, sitting at Dottie’s side. Charlotte had responded withOf course!to Mrs. Lewis’s text, not letting Tino know until they’d left the ICU because she’d known he’d argue. She did not want Dottie worried that her niece might not be safe.

“Look, I did what you suggested,” she said, keeping her hands busy and her back to his disapproving face. “I got a hotel for tonight—a suite with two separate bedrooms so you don’t have to sleep outside the door again. But I made a promise, Tino. A promise to a scared thirteen-year-old girl. She’s coming over any minute. We will cook, and then you and I will see Kayla home, and then we’ll deliver the food to the other families. The Lombardis and the Fadils both live near Aunt Dottie’s house, and the Lewises are in Point Breeze. And then we’ll go to the hotel.”

That the families who owned the shops in Rittenhouse Square didn’t live there was no surprise. Rittenhouse was a pricey neighborhood, but the areas where the families lived weren’t bad. Charlotte hadn’t been nervous about going there before, but she hadn’t known a psycho might be following her then.

And it wasn’t like she was going alone. Tino had already said he wasn’t leaving her side.

“And if your aunt’s attacker is waiting outside your apartment for you to leave?” Tino demanded. “He’ll just follow you.”

“He may have done that already,” Charlotte said, trying not to sound as frightened as she felt. The whole situation was surreal. Abruptly, she stopped reorganizing the ingredients she’d already organized twice and bowed her head. “I’m scared, okay? I don’t want to believe this has anything to do with me—either the murders or Dottie’s assault. But if it does? I’m scared. And when I’m scared, I cook.”

She heard the stool on which he sat scrape over the floor, and then strong hands were on her shoulders, warm and steady. “I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

She leaned back into his touch. “I know.”

“But I didn’t fully consider how this was affecting you, and for that I’m sorry. I’ll back off, but I’m going to call in some reinforcements. Gino was a bouncer part-time for a while. He’s a big guy, intimidating. I’m going to ask him to follow us tonight when we leave here. Just to be safe.”

“Thank you.” She laughed shakily. “I never meant to be so much trouble, but it seems to follow me.”

“None of this is your fault. Even if there is a connection, it’s not your fault.”

“I guess that depends on why this hypothetical stalker is after me. Maybe I made him angry. Maybe I gave his restaurant a bad review. Maybe I cut him off in traffic.”

He gave her a gentle shake. “Still not your fault. Normal people don’t use violence in those situations.” He ran his hands down her arms, making her shiver. Then he stepped around her to study the ingredients she’d laid out. “What’s for dinner?”

“I’m making roast chicken and a beef stir-fry. I’ve got enough to make meals for all three families and also some for your brother and sister-in-law. Sophie’s not going to be able to cook, and Vito’s not going to have time. Someone has to feed their kids.”

Tino turned to her, his eyes warm and full of gratitude. “Thank you.”

She opened her mouth to tell him it was no trouble, but as their gazes held, the gratitude in his eyes shifted to...heat. Desire.

She drew in an unsteady breath, leaning toward him before she realized she was doing so. He cupped her cheek and it felt so good. Then he leaned closer, his mouth an inch from hers.

“Charlotte,” he murmured.

Her heart fluttered in her chest. If only he’d call her Charlie again, it would be perfect. “Can you?—”

The moment was broken by the ringing of the doorbell. She lurched back, his hand falling from her cheek to his side.

He inhaled sharply, looking away. “It’s probably the girl. Kayla. Go answer it.”

She started for the door, glancing over her shoulder to find him on her heels. He wasn’t going to let her answer the door alone.

It made her feel better.

She checked the peephole to make sure it was Kayla, opening the door when she was sure that it was. “Kayla, come in.”

Kayla entered a little warily, looking from Charlotte to Tino. “Are you okay?” she asked Charlotte.

Charlotte wrapped her arm around Kayla’s shoulders. “I am fine. Let’s get started, because this is a school night and you have an early day tomorrow.” She handed Kayla an apron when they got to the kitchen. “You can keep this one and use it at home when you make this yourself.”

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