Page 67 of A Secret to Die For

“But…but… I can’t. We haven’t known each other for long enough, and what if—”

“There you go with the ‘what ifs’ again. In case I haven’t made myself clear, this isn’t a short-term fling, and Marlie’s gonna like you as much as I do.”

Now I wanted to cry again, but this time because my heart was so full that it threatened to overflow. If Garrett wanted me to start meeting his family, that said a lot about his intentions. Of course, the move wouldn’t be reciprocated in the near future—I wanted him to meet the Baldwins at around the same time that hell froze over—but I knew he’d understand why.

“Is the path okay for sneakers?”

“The path’s good, and I have a jacket you can use. Marlie’s going to have a whole bunch of questions because I’ve never brought a girl to meet her before, and I’ll warn you now, she couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it.” He led me toward the guest room closet. “So no tongues in front of my niece.”

“Say cheese.”

Marlie mugged for the camera and Garrett stuck his tongue out, then I held my breath as they climbed down from the fallen tree they’d both clambered onto. Once they were back on solid ground, Marlie grabbed her phone and checked the pictures, then ran off to perform her next death-defying stunt.

“She’s a real daredevil, huh?”

Garrett took my hand and watched her go.

“Just like her mom was at that age,” he said, and I didn’t miss the sadness in his voice.

He’d introduced me to Grandma Valeria—who was his stepmom’s mom—as “my friend Saralisa,” and she’d stared with undisguised curiosity. I’d struggled not to do the same. Valeria was about five feet tall, and even at home in the daytime, her make-up was flawless and she wore flowers in her hair. Her dress was the colour of poppies, and her shoes matched perfectly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were bringing someone?” she asked. “I would have made tea.”

“You never make me tea.”

“You can make your own.” She’d taken both of my hands in hers. “Tell me, how did you meet Garrett?”

“Uh, we were at a party, and we ended up dancing together.”

“You dance?”

Garrett rested his chin on my shoulder. “Saralisa’s the salsa queen.”

I found myself dragged away from him as Valeria twirled me around her living room, past a cabinet full of trophies and photos of her dancing when she was younger. Now I saw where Garrett got his fast feet from. On the second circuit, he grabbed ahold of my hand and claimed me back.

“Don’t scare her off, Valeria.”

“I won’t; I like her.” She turned toward the doorway. “Marlie, llegas tarde otra vez!”

Apparently, Marlie was always late. Easily distracted, Garrett said, and I could see why. She had to balance on every log, turn over every rock, and examine every leaf. When we reached the waterfall, she wanted to paddle in the pool, but the water was too cold, so Garrett promised her a piggyback instead. This was yet another side to him, the carefree kid who larked around without a care in the world.

As for me, I wasn’t quite so adventurous, but I did find my worries slipping away, albeit temporarily. Who could be downbeat when there was nature, pizza, the man of my dreams, and a super-cute little girl to hang out with? Even though they weren’t related by blood, Valeria’s influence on Marlie was clear—the little girl loved bright colours, and her smile was infectious. I suspected she was a whiz at salsa dancing too, the same as I’d been at her age. In some ways, the afternoon was bittersweet, because in her, I saw the child I’d once been before disaster struck. But Marlie wouldn’t suffer the way I did. Nearly all of her family adored her.

And I thought she was warming up to me, although I knew nothing about kids. At the pizza place, she squished my cheeks between her palms and giggled, then knelt on the seat next to me and begged Garrett to take a picture. My squashed smile was genuine.

“You looked as if you had a good time,” he said in the car on the way back to Johannes’s apartment.

“I did. I really did.”

“Marlie’s a great kid.”

How could Gracie abandon her? The words were on the tip of my tongue, but of course I didn’t say them.

“The sweetest, but you need to have eyes in the back of your head.”

“Tell me about it. When she was six, she loved to play hide-and-seek, and the day she snuck into a delivery driver’s truck, we thought she’d been kidnapped. Dad called the police, and apparently the guy nearly had a heart attack when he got back to the depot and found her.”

“I bet he did. You need to handcuff her to—” I clapped both hands over my mouth. “Shit! Sorry! I didn’t mean to say that. Your kinks are a bad influence.”

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