back. Want a lift?”
He turned, shielded his eyes from the sun falling toward the sea. “No, thank you. I don’t want to bother you.”
“I insist. Just give me a minute to get some shoes on.” When she turned to close and lock the door, she stopped herself. The boy wasn’t going to bother her, and she’d be damned if she acted like a pathetic old lady, locking herself inside every minute of the day. She purposely left the door unlocked and opened as she ran for her room to dig out her sandals.
When she returned to the living room, she gasped.
The teen stood beside her easel, holding up the palette and paintbrushes. When he heard her gasp, he dropped the items to the table beside the easel. “I’m sorry, the door was open. I thought you wanted me to come in.”
Kayla laughed, her voice shaky. “I did want you to come in,” she lied. “I just didn’t expect you to be so quick.”
“A guy would be stupid to pass up a free ride.” He nodded at the easel. “You paint?” He snorted. “Dumb question. Of course you do, why else have paintbrushes and an easel?”
Kayla stared at the empty canvas and sighed. “I used to paint.”
“Used to paint?”
She shrugged and gathered her keys from the kitchen countertop. “Haven’t felt much like it lately.” Hooking her purse over her shoulder, she stared across at the boy.
He didn’t seem at all in a hurry, intent on studying the paints, pressing his finger to the globs of oil on the palette. “I like the way the colors blend and make new colors.”
“Me too. It’s one of the reasons I took up painting in the first place.” Kayla moved closer to where the boy stood. “Seeing as I’m giving you a ride home, it might be nice to know your name.”
“Dakota.” He glanced at her. “Are you any good?”
“At driving?”
“No, painting.”
Kayla almost laughed out loud. She never took her talent for granted, nor her success over the past five years. From selling her paintings on the sidewalks of Seattle to being sought out by rich-and-famous art aficionados, she’d come a long way. Good at it? The laughter died before it could emerge. “Sometimes.”
The teen turned away from the palette, the canvas and the brushes and strode to the door. “At least you don’t get fined, put on probation and kicked out of your home for your art.” He pushed through the door and jumped off the steps to the ground below.
“Fined?” Kayla followed him out, locking the door behind her.
When he didn’t respond, she didn’t push. She wanted to ask him what he meant, but the stormy look on his face didn’t invite confidences.
With a tap on her key fob, she popped the latch on her SUV and the back door rose. The backseats were still folded down from when she’d loaded all her suitcases and art supplies for the trip south from Seattle.
Between the two of them they managed to get the bicycle in place, laying it on its side. Kayla let Dakota handle the heavy lifting. Once it was inside, Dakota climbed into the passenger seat while Kayla closed the hatch and rounded the vehicle to the driver’s side.
As she settled behind the steering wheel, the sun glinted off something shiny, blinding her for a moment. That something dangled off the rearview mirror. She blinked and held up her hand to keep from being flashed again. She touched a thin chain, her fingers curling around it. When she looked down, her heart stopped, her breath lodging in her throat. In her palm lay a golden locket—the locket she’d worn the night of the art show in Seattle. The night she’d almost lost her baby. The night she’d almost been murdered.
Gabe stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and scrubbed the water from his hair, his thoughts poring over the events of the day, the murder weighing heavily on him.
He’d been with the sheriff when they’d given the young woman’s parents the news. His chest was still tight from witnessing their disbelief and then the overwhelming grief in their eyes.
Adding to his crapper of a day, Dakota hadn’t been home when he’d gotten off work. Another ten minutes and he’d be late for dinner.
Not that Gabe cared so much about punctuality. He worried where the boy was and whether or not he was in any kind of trouble.
The front door opened and closed on the big old house.
Gabe looped the towel around his neck, slipped into a pair of jeans and padded barefoot through the bedroom door and out onto the landing overlooking the large foyer. “Dakota?”
When no one answered, he hurried down the stairs, reaching the bottom just as the door opened again and Kayla Davies entered, followed by Gabe’s sister, Molly, with Dakota bringing up the rear.
Kayla stopped so suddenly that Molly ran into her back, bumping her forward and into Gabe’s bare chest.
His hands automatically rose to steady her, a smile quirking at the corners of his mouth. “Hello, again.”
She stared up at him with deep green eyes, her hands resting against his bare skin.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Molly said. “I was too busy looking down I didn’t see you stop. Hi, Gabe, meet our new neighbor, Kayla.” Her brows rose. “You might want to put a shirt on.”
“Yeah, really,” Dakota agreed, edging past the women and his father to lope up the steps two at a time, his face a mottled red.
“Wash up, dinner is on in a few minutes,” Molly called out to the retreating teen. She shook her head. “I don’t know what it’s gonna take to get through to him.”
Kayla stepped back, twin flags of color rising in her pale cheeks. “Excuse me. I’m not usually so clumsy.”
“Blame me.” Molly hooked her elbow and dragged her toward the kitchen. “Gabe, get dressed while Kayla and I put the finishing touches on the soup. Oh, by the way, she’s staying for dinner.”
Kayla glanced over her shoulder at Gabe as Molly pulled her through the swinging door and out of sight.
For a long moment, Gabe stood staring after them, his skin still tingling from where Kayla’s hands had rested on his chest. He dragged in a deep breath and let it out, stunned by the impact she had on him. His pulse beat faster than normal, his blood burning through his veins. He’d thought his reaction over their earlier meeting had been one of fear for her life, but this kick in his gut had nothing to do with fear and more to do with physical attraction.
Gabe shook himself, grabbed the towel from around his neck and followed Dakota up the stairs. He needed to remember to keep his head clear. This was no time to get caught up in an untimely attraction. He had too much going on, between trying to connect with his son and finding a killer.
He also had to remind himself that women weren’t on top of his most trustworthy list since Siena showed up at his door with a son she’d kept secret from him for years. Growing up in a small town, he’d always assumed that the people he felt close to—family, friends, lovers—were
