But he’d had family, too, and they had been on the West Coast. An unwinnable situation.
He walked up to the porch. Climbed the steps and crossed to the door. Aware she was certainly watching, he raised his fist and knocked.
She didn’t say a word or make a sound, but he felt her on the other side of the door. Only inches from him. He closed his eyes and recalled her scent. Soft, subtle. She always smelled like citrus. Never wore makeup. She had the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen.
The door opened and she stood there, looking exactly the way she had ten years ago—no makeup, no fussy hairdo, just Ali. The big black Lab the sheriff had told him about stood next to her.
For one long moment, she stared at him and he stared at her.
He inhaled a deep breath, acknowledged the scent of her—the scent he would have recognized anywhere.
“Say it.”
For a moment he felt confused at her statement.
“Say it,” she repeated. “I’m not letting you inside until you do.”
He understood then. “Superhero.”
She stepped back, and he walked in. The door closed behind him, locks tumbling into place. The dog sniffed him, eying him suspiciously.
She scratched the Lab’s head, and the dog settled down. “No one told me you were the one coming.”
She stood close to the wall on his left, beyond arm’s reach. Now that he had a chance to really look, she was thinner than before. Fear glittered in her eyes. Beyond the fear was something else. A weariness. Sadness, too, he concluded.
“I didn’t know it was you until I arrived in Winchester.” He held her gaze, refused to let her off the hook. He didn’t want this to be easy. Appreciating her discomfort was low. He knew this, and still he couldn’t help it. “I’m glad I’m the one Holloway called. I want to help. If that’s okay with you.”
“I’m certain Marshal Holloway wouldn’t have called you if you weren’t up to the task.” She shrugged. “As for the past, it was a long time ago. It’s hardly relevant now.”
She was right. It had been a long time. Still, the idea that she played it off so nonchalantly didn’t sit so well. No need for her to know the resentment or whatever the hell it was he harbored related to her decisions or the whirlwind of emotions she had set reeling inside him now. This was work. Business. The job. It wasn’t personal.
He hitched a thumb toward the door. “I picked up a pizza. It’s a little early for lunch, but I was on the road damned early this morning.”
“Make yourself at home. You don’t need my permission to eat.”
No, he did not. “I’ll grab my bag and the pizza.”
He walked out to his SUV. He took a breath. Struggled to slow his heart rate. He had an assignment to complete, and it was essential he pulled his head out of the past and focused on the present. What happened ten years ago or five years ago was irrelevant. What mattered was now. Keeping her safe. Getting her in that courtroom to put a scumbag away.
He grabbed his bag and the pizza and headed back to the cabin. She opened the door for him and then locked the four dead bolts. He placed the pizza on the table and dropped his bag by the sofa. He imagined that would be his bed for the foreseeable future. The place didn’t look large enough to have two bedrooms.
“This is Bob, by the way,” she said of the dog who stayed at her side.
He nodded. “Nice to meet you, Bob.”
Bob stared at him with a healthy dose of either skepticism or continued suspicion.
“Would you like water or a cola?”
Since beer was out of the question, he went for a cola. She walked to the fridge and grabbed two. On the way to the table, she snagged the roll of paper towels from the counter and brought that along, as well. She sat down directly across the table. Apparently she had decided to join him. He passed her a slice, grabbed one of his own and then dug in. Eating would prevent the need for conversation. If he chewed slowly enough, he could drag this out for a while.
She sipped her drink. “You finally get married?”
He was surprised she asked. Left her open for his questions. And he really wanted a number of answers from her. At the moment dealing with all the emotions and sensations related to just being in the same room with her was all he could handle.
“No. Never engaged. Never married.”
Silence dragged on for another minute or so while they ate. Keeping his attention away from her lips as she ate proved more difficult than he’d expected. Frankly, he was grateful when she polished off the last bit.
“Technically,” she pointed out as she reached for a second slice, “we were engaged—informally.”
He went still, startled that his heart didn’t do the same. He hadn’t expected her to bring that up under the circumstances. “Technically,” he repeated, “I suppose you’re right.”
“How long were you in Seattle?”
“Until last year.” He wiped his hands on a napkin. “I’m sorry about your father.”
“It was a tough time.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it was.” He had come so close to attending the funeral, but he had wondered if he would be welcome, so he hadn’t.
He bit into his pizza to prevent asking if that was why she’d ran into the arms of a criminal. Had she wanted someone to take care of her? A sugar daddy or whatever? Fury lit inside him. He forced the thoughts away. It didn’t matter that they had spent months intensely focused on each other, practically inseparable. That had been a long time ago. Whatever they had then was long gone by the time she married Armone. All this emotion was unnecessary. Pointless. Frustrating as hell, actually.
“What about your parents?” She dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “Your sister?”
“The parents are doing great. Talking about buying a winter home in Florida. Is that cliché or what?” He managed a smile, hoped to lighten the situation.
She looked completely at ease. Calm. Maybe he was the only one having trouble.
Her lips lifted into a small smile. “A little.”
“My sister is married with three kids.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how she does it.”
“She’s lucky.”
“You have kids?” He knew the answer, but he didn’t know the reason.
“No. He didn’t want children. He had two with his first wife.” She stared at the pizza box for a moment. “Looking back, I was very fortunate he didn’t.”
For now, he guided the conversation away from the bastard she’d married. He asked another question to which he already knew the answer. “You were determined to finish school.
