out of trees?”
He huffed. “If you keep trying to hide whatever’s got you scared...you’ll end up bloodied. Don’t wreck that pretty face by falling on it.”
He wasn’t far from the truth. She might very well end up exactly as he said. She didn’t want to run again, and anyway, where would she go? She was safest with Wilder. Not telling him might get him hurt. But she wasn’t sure what scared her most: admitting the truth, Beau Chauvert or Jeffrey Levitts.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, fine. I don’t like it. I probably won’t keep quiet for long. But right now, you can eat in peace. Talk about something else.”
“Are you letting it slide because you know I’ll expect you to reciprocate and give me therapy time? Fair is fair, after all.”
“Nothing about life is fair, Cosette.” Wilder ran his finger down the menu, browsing. “And the difference is I don’t need to talk. I’m not scared. You most definitely are, which means there’s a threat out there. I can make that go away for you.”
“What happened to eating in peace?” She couldn’t even concentrate on the menu. Nothing appealed to her stomach, but when the server returned she ordered the salmon and jasmine rice.
“I also said I probably wouldn’t keep quiet for long.” His playful smirk loosened some of the nerves bundled in her chest and she breathed deep. Decided to switch subjects.
“I do want to talk to you about one thing.” It had been on her mind for the past few months. “Equine therapy.”
“I don’t want to lay on your couch and blabber, and I don’t want to ride horses to soothe my soul. I’m solid.”
Cosette unrolled her silverware and placed the linen napkin in her lap. “I’m talking about reconstructing and expanding that stable on the plantation, putting up fencing and opening an equine therapy practice. I’d get a loan and take care of the costs, and pay you rent, of course.”
“I don’t know, Cosette. People trying to heal on the same property as people who are in serious trouble sometimes... That might put them at risk.”
“I’ve thought of that, but we rarely have serious risks, and it’s far enough from the main house. I could even add an office area off the stables for more privacy, and have a road paved so clients could bypass the main house altogether... And if something dangerous is happening then I can cancel.”
“Five months ago, a sniper tried to take out Evan. He shot through the guest bedroom window. We didn’t know it was dangerous until it was. Remember that?”
Yes, she’d been at the clinic where she worked part-time when that happened. “Wilder, please consider it. I’ve written up a proposal and I’ll give you some information to help you understand how important this is. Patients are making great strides with this kind of therapy and the plantation is such a peaceful and lovely place.”
“Yet you moved out.”
Cosette finally felt like Jeffrey’s reign of terror had ended and she was safe. Now with Jody moved out, since she and Evan were married, it was odd living upstairs while Wilder lived downstairs. “Just think about it. I’ll give you the information when we get back into town.”
“Fine.”
The drive and boarding the plane were relatively quiet between them. Cosette pretended to read on the flight, but her mind was a muddied mess. What would come next? By the time they landed and retrieved their baggage, it was late. Wilder drove to her apartment, brooding. He pulled up in a visitor parking space. “You want me to come in?”
“Why would I want that?” Yes!
He gripped the steering wheel and sighed. “I guess I don’t know.” He hauled her bags to her door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Yes. Good. Okay.” She unlocked her door and Wilder gently grasped her arm.
“Cosette, you can tell me anything. You know that, right?”
“And you can tell me anything but you never do.” This man needed to open up. To talk out his feelings. Bottled up emotions eventually blew. With everything he’d seen being a SEAL, and his job, and the death of his sister, there was plenty for Wilder to discuss, to air out. Why wouldn’t he trust her?
“Anything... Okay, I’ll tell you something I’ve never shared with anyone.”
Finally.
“I’m vain about my hair. I know I’m a soldier and, you know, a legit tough guy...but I just like my hair.” He grinned, all charming like. It almost worked. She felt the smile forming deep in her heart, but caught it before it reached her lips.
“Well, yippee skippy, you’re vain. You’ve failed miserably at keeping that a secret. Everybody already knows it.” She rolled her eyes and pushed open the door. Wilder was far from vain, but it was obvious he cared about his hair. Though he didn’t flip it around or mess with it much... Well, he did comb his hands through it often. She assumed that was an anxious habit, or frustration. Maybe he just liked the feel.
“I’ll come up with something better tomorrow,” he deadpanned and flashed a commercial-worthy grin. But she was going into a dark and empty home—one she hoped was empty—so the grin fell flat.
“You do that.” Before he could respond, she hurried inside. Not that she wanted to be there, but she didn’t want to spar with Wilder—not when he was all flirty and enamoring. She was at war for her life with a stalker. She didn’t need to be at war for her heart with her boss. A cold chill swept up her spine. It’s fine. She was fine. Cosette flipped on a light. Nothing out of place. She rolled her bag into her bedroom.
She needed a long hot bath and a good night’s sleep.
Creak!
Cosette’s muscles locked up and her heart skittered into her throat.
She was hearing things. No one was in her house.
Blood pulsed in her ears, making a whooshing noise like a ceiling fan. It hurt to breathe. She listened. Nothing.
Letting out a relieved breath, she reached for the light switch.
Something rustled in her closet.
Her hand froze on the switch. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t flip on the light. Couldn’t breathe.
Suddenly, the closet door burst open and a figure charged through the darkness, knocking her into the chest of drawers and sending her crashing to the floor as he exited her bedroom. She lay there in terror, unable to form a coherent thought. But she couldn’t lie here all night. Where did he go? Would he be back? She forced clarity to come, and after a moment, gasped and flipped on the light, while pain throbbed in her shoulder.
Her vanity stool had been knocked over, as if the dark-clad figure had tripped, hurrying to the closet to conceal himself before being caught red-handed. But doing what? She slowly searched her bedroom, her heart racing like a meteor. Her makeup was out of place. Something drew her attention to the mirror, and she clasped her burning throat. Drawn in lipstick on her
