Page 93 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“Ifthey are.”

“—they’re going to recognize us. Her, at least. She doesn’t exactly go unnoticed.”

She did turn heads everywhere she went. And once she got to talking, she was impossible to forget.

“Somebody could report these meetings,” the Builder said. “Even if not, you know they’re going to question her. Do you really think she’ll be able to keep her mouth shut? I’m not sure she has any idea what we’re doing.”

“She knows. She gets it.”

A loud sigh filled the space between them. “You know I’d do anything for her. For you too. But I’m not ruining my life over this. They’re going to know it was us.”

The Planner’s lips stretched into a smile. “Knowing it and proving it are two different things.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Dim light filtered through the gauzy curtains. Aspen stretched on the narrow twin bed, then flinched at the pain. Her body had taken a beating the night before, and everything ached. She thanked God for the aches.

It could have been so much worse.

It’d been a strange night. Thoughts of Garrett and memories of the evening they’d shared had lulled her to sleep quickly.

He liked her, liked her enough to ask her to stay in Coventry, to suggest they see what could happen between them. At the time, she’d felt so secure in his presence, so confident that, as long as he was beside her, she could conquer anything.

Grace had texted a little before ten o’clock that she was home, and Garrett had grabbed Aspen’s things from his truck and walked her to Grace’s door. It wasn’t a long walk—Garrett lived in the next building on the opposite side of the narrow parking area. When they reached Grace’s stoop, the air between them suddenly felt charged. Thinking of awkward moments after the few dates she’d had in high school, she giggled, and he laughed.

And then his expression had shifted to something much different.

He set her packages on the porch and wrapped her in his arms, chasing off the chill of the cold night. He lowered his head. And waited.

But not for long before she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips against his. The kiss didn’t start tentatively like it had a few nights before, but tenderly. The tenderness shifted as the events of the night, the memories, the fears intruded. She clung to him as if he were her only link to sanity, to safety. As if, in his arms, nothing could touch her.

He responded, backing her against the front door, shielding her body with his, diving in for more.

More. She’d wanted more.

Nobody had ever kissed her like that.

Nobody had ever stirred such desire inside her.

It felt like an instant, or an eternity, had passed when he moved his lips off hers, only to skim over her neck. He trailed kisses to her ear, and she felt his sigh.

Everything in her wanted to tell him not to stop. The cold, the wind, the fact that they were within viewing distance of no fewer than twenty windows—she didn’t care.

She only wanted more of this. More of him.

A car drove by, its engine seeming too loud in the sacred moment.

Garrett’s breath tickled the hair over her ear. “Do I need to apologize?”

For stopping. “Do I?”

His chuckle rumbled through her, plucking cords of desire that he’d already set to humming.

He stayed there another moment, then backed away to meet her gaze. She’d expected amusement, but his expression held none. Only desire and…and something darker.

And then she’d remembered the rest.

Because Garrett’s kiss might have been the most amazing thing that had happened to her that day, some could argue even the most momentous. But it hadn’t been theonlything.

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