Page 64 of Capturing You

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At the family room and carrying an armful of logs, he kicked the closed door.

“Ford?”

“It’s the boogeyman. Open up.”

The door swung open. Thanks to the darkness, he couldn’t see her face, but he didn’t need to. He conjured her smile in his mind’s eye.

“I always pictured you bigger, with claws.” She took the phone from his hand—her fingers were colder than his—and lit the way to the fireplace with his flashlight.

“Common misconception. We boogeymen get a bad rap.”

“Did you just make a joke? Are you bantering with me?”

“No.”

“I love to banter. Bantering is my favorite.”

He dropped the firewood, thankful she couldn’t see his smile.

This woman.

She was incredibly irritating. And funny and sweet and happy.

Stop that.

Nosy. That was what she was, and he couldn’t have it.

He put the sack that’d been hanging from his wrist on the coffee table, then found the box of matches Dad had always kept on the mantel and set them down as well. “Light the candles, please.”

“On it.”

While she rustled in the plastic, he took the weapon from where he’d tucked it at the small of his back and set it on a side table near the windows.

“Is that a gun?”

“Yeah.” He took a breath and blew it out. “Your friends Niles and Bernie decided to take advantage of the power outage. I saw them on one of my video feeds.”

She gasped. “What happened? I thought I heard…I thought it was thunder. Did you?—?”

“I scared them off. Don’t worry.” He’d do enough worrying for both of them. “If they come back and try to get in the house, the alarm will sound. We’re safe.”

He turned the knob to open the flue, realizing too late that he hadn’t grabbed anything to warm the chimney or light the flame.

He must’ve grunted because she asked, “Something wrong?” She sparked a match and lit a candle, but the light barely penetrated the darkness.

“I forgot newspaper.” He pushed to his feet, suppressing a sigh. “I think there’s some in the garage.”

“There’s a ream of paper in Grace’s office.” She nodded to the closed door. “It’s useless, old and yellowing. I’m sure it would work.” She stood. “I’ll grab it.”

“Stay here. Where is it?”

“Bottom desk drawer, right side.”

“The drawers were dusty inside?”

“Terribly.”

“Hmm.” He should call her on her snooping again, but at the moment, he was just glad he didn’t have to return to the garage. The walls were too thin, and it was already getting cold out there. Summers in Maine could be colder than winters in many parts of the country, especially when the wind whipped like it did tonight. The new wing of the house was better insulated, but there were no working fireplaces. He’d had this one inspected before he’d moved back. It was the only one in the house he dared to light.