Page 43 of Eden

He had no idea what was written across his face, but he was sure it wasn’t good.

“Fine,” he said, forcing a smile.

She looked at him a second longer, then unlocked the front door and held it open for him.

She flipped the light switch, and to their surprise the light turned on.

She shook her head. “The power always flicks on and off during storms around here,” she said, not sounding concerned at all, so he didn’t give it another thought.

He stepped inside, stopping on the doormat while he slipped off his wet shoes. His socks were drenched through but he kept them on. He pulled his wet sweater over his head, glad it was thick and had somewhat saved his T-shirt. His pants were a lost cause, but there wasn’t much he could do about that.

“That storm really came out of nowhere. I forgot what it was like to live here in storm season until these last few days,” she said as she looked at him. Her eyes fell to his chest and his arms, and then she cleared her throat before walking past him, down the hallway.

He paused, certain he’d caught Bethenny’s true reaction. He found her incredibly hard to read—she would’ve been a hell of a poker player—but he was sure he’d read her correctly in that moment, and he was happier about her reaction than he wanted to admit.

But as soon as the happiness surfaced, grief and sadness followed behind, threatening to catch up. Lachlan was slowly learning he couldn’t outrun his emotions forever.

He shook his head and followed her down the hallway, watching her as she turned on the gas fire and went to the kitchen. He sat at the barstool, assuming she didn’t need any help making hot chocolate.

She placed two mugs on the counter and his gaze followed her every movement.

He’d spent so many years refusing to get involved with anyone for fear of them being targeted. With Bethenny, it felt different—she could protect herself, and she knew what it was like to do the type of job they did. But ever since seeing that note... It had triggered everything he didn’t want to feel, and every fear that he’d managed to submerge in the depths of his soul.

“You’ve been very deep in thought today,” she said, sweeping her hair to the side as she studied him.

He nodded, not bothering to deny it. “This case.. It’s bringing up a lot of emotions I’ve suppressed for a long time.”

“Grief?” she asked gently.

He smiled, shaking his head. “Yes, grief. Fear. Sadness. But every now and then a glimpse of joy slithers through, and I realize I’d forgotten how that felt too. I think I forgot how to live after Eden’s death. How toreallylive,” he clarified. “I went through the motions each day. I survived. But I forgot how to laugh and make light of certain situations. Like just then, outside in the car... If that had been a few days ago and I’d pulled up to my house in this weather, I’d be cursing and irritated I was going to get wet. Instead, I was laughing as I ran to your front door,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyway...” He waved his hand dismissively. He’d said too much already.

Their fingers touched as she handed him a mug of hot chocolate and he felt the stir inside him. When had that happened last? He actually couldn’t remember.

He walked to the fireplace, hoping it would dry his wet jeans. His gaze swept over her living room.

“Did you do this yourself, or did you hire a designer?” he asked. “It’s a beautiful home. Looks like a hotel.”

She grinned. “I worked with the lady from Northside Blinds. She has a good eye for design. Me, on the other hand...” She pulled a face, shaking her head. “Terrible. I see something I like but have no idea how to put it all together. I’ve accepted I have no career in interior design, so best to leave it to people who do.”

“So you’re planning on being here long-term, then?” he asked.

He didn’t get the response he’d been expecting.

“To be honest, I don’t know. I bought the house thinking it would be a good project. I thought if I did a few cosmetic renovations and styled it well, I could make a few dollars from it if I wanted to sell it later,” she said, coming to stand beside him.

His first thought was to tell her to stay. It surprised him how much he didn’t want her to leave. “I think you should stay for a while,” he said as casually as he could muster.

She looked up at him. “Are you?”

His heart seemed to stumble over itself. He wasn’t sure if they were having the conversation he thought they were having, but he wanted to be honest regardless. “I’m staying,” he said. He was done running—of that much he was sure.

Her eyes locked on his and he felt his chest tighten, but this time it was a good sensation.

“I think I’ll stay,” she eventually said, and when she did, he noticed the raspy tone of her voice. Bethenny was not unaffected by him, he was absolutely certain of that now.

But was it a good idea to mix business with pleasure?

And was it a good idea to get involved with anyone at all while his wife’s killer was clearly following him?

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