Shroud of Fog: (A Cape Trouble Romantic Suspense Novel) (15 page)

She looked at it again.  “I see.”

“Did you bring stuff home with you again yesterday?”  He
knew that came out abruptly.

“Yes.”

“Where is it?”

“In the trunk of my car.”

Safe enough right now, then, with Diaz still lurking out
front.

“I want you to quit,” he said, “or else I’ll start spending
evenings hanging around your cottage until you’re done with whatever you have
to do, and then I can take it all home with me.”

Or spend the night with her.  The thought crossed his mind,
but he didn’t say it aloud.  The way her brow crinkled, he doubted that’s what
she was thinking.

“It will slow me down if I can’t work evenings.”  She
hesitated.  “I suppose I could take a dinner break and go back out to the
storage facility.  With it staying light so late—”

“It would be too damn deserted out there, and my officers
are spread too thin for me to assign someone to you the additional hours.  No. 
You don’t do it at all, or you get me.”

Something she saw on his face made her gaze slide shyly
away.  “People will talk if you spend too much time with me.”

“This is the twenty-first century.”

She looked skeptical.  “In Cape Trouble?”

After a moment, his mouth tilted up in reluctant amusement. 
“You’re right.  A town like this is lagging by a few decades.  That doesn’t
mean I give a damn what people say.”

After a moment, she nodded.  “Okay.  We’ll see.”

“I’ll walk you down,” he said.  “I’ve assigned Slawinski to
you again today, if he worked out okay.”

She passed him and started toward the head of the stairs. 
“He was great,” she said over her shoulder.  “I just wish I didn’t scare him.”

You scare me.

Damn.  That was a stupid thing to think.

But true, he admitted to himself.

He saw her off, his eyes narrowing when he saw Diaz scoping
her out, but he didn’t say anything.  Diaz might not blush, but he’d probably
panic if she smiled at him.  He wondered how many broken hearts she’d strewed
behind her.

And why she didn’t have a guy showing up every weekend to
get his Sophie fix during this month she’d committed to her aunt’s cause.

Hanging around tonight while she worked, that was one of the
questions he’d have to ask.  As he pulled out his phone to call Alex Mackay and
ask to borrow a fingerprint tech from the county yet again, Daniel ignored the
apprehension he felt at the possibility that Sophie would tell him she was
already involved with someone.

Damn.  What  had happened to his resolve to stay away from
her?

*****

Sophie wasn’t sure she could concentrate enough to be
productive with Daniel sharing the small living space in the cottage.  She felt
warm every time he looked at her, and if he wasn’t, she would be tempted to
look at him.  She pictured him relaxed in an easy chair reading, those long legs
stretched out, or making himself a cup of coffee in the tiny kitchen, or even
sharing the table while he used his own laptop.

Wonderful.  She wanted to think he was getting to her only
because she was already so raw emotionally, but she had a bad feeling it was
him.  That she would have responded the same to him no matter when or where
they’d met.

Either way, she was afraid she’d end up hurt.

She was also afraid she wasn’t going to be smart and say no
when – if – he suggested he might as well spend the night since he was already
there.

Remembering the way he’d pulled back after kissing her, she
knew it was possible he wouldn’t.  He wanted her, she couldn’t be mistaken
about that, but she might have freaked him out with all she’d told him.  God. 
She’d practically been having flashbacks, right in front of him.  She cringed,
remembering the way her voice had become higher and childlike as she heard
herself reliving that awful morning.

Only Mommy was talking to a man and I didn’t know who
that could be.

Daniel had been unbelievably kind, but how could he help
seeing her as pathetic and needy, even if he didn’t suspect she was unstable?

Making a face as she waited for Officer Slawinski to return
with another load, she thought,
No, I really doubt I have to worry about
Daniel Colburn making a move on me.

She did manage to pull herself together enough to work
steadily through the day, taking only a half hour break to get a sandwich and
bring it back to eat at her folding card table.  Slawinski, no surprise, used
the same time to buy a double cheeseburger, fries and cookies, all of which
smelled way better than her healthier alternative.  Tomorrow, she decided, she
was hitting the drive-through, too.

Bless his heart, he offered to share the cookies, which
improved her mood.

In the end, she did have him load a couple of rubber tubs of
small stuff she had to research on the internet into the back of her Prius. 
She thanked him with a big smile and turned to lock the unit, pretending she
hadn’t seen a red tide creep up his neck to his cheeks.

She’d barely pulled into the driveway at the cottage when a
black SUV came to a stop at the curb in front and Daniel got out, a couple of
bulging grocery bags dangling from one hand.

“You switched cars,” she said.  Oh, brilliant.

“I hustled home.”  He grinned at her from the sidewalk, then
passed under the rose arbor and met her at the porch.  “I figured having a city
car parked out in front all evening might look like I was thumbing my nose at
the fine citizenry of Cape Trouble.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Like they don’t all recognize your
Honda.”

“I’m entitled to a private life.”

She fumbled with the keys, conscious of him right behind
her.  “You could make it generally known that you’re still on the clock when
you’re here because you’re serving as bodyguard.”  She could only hope he’d buy
her ultra-casual tone.  Thank goodness, she managed to get the door open right
then.

“I’m pretty sure no one would believe that.”  Amusement
threaded his voice, but something else, too.  A something that had her turning
to face him.  He smiled, bent his head and kissed her lightly, as if he had a
right.  “For example, I’m thinking I’ll cook dinner tonight.”

Trying to hide her reaction to the brush of his lips on
hers, she said, almost at random, “You shopped?”

“For a couple of things, and grabbed the rest of what I
needed from home.”

“I could have cooked.”

“You must be cold and stiff after sitting there all day.”

Had he heard her knees creaking?  “It was getting chilly,”
she admitted.  “I forget the way the fog rolls in some afternoons.  So much for
spectacular sunsets.”

“Yeah, this is a dense one.”  His eyes were kind.  “Does fog
bring it back?”

“If I let it get to me too much, I should have moved to
Arizona.  Even in Portland, we get fog.”  Which did always make her feel as if
a ghost was breathing down her neck, but she tried to convince herself that it
affected most people that way.  Not being able to see more than a few feet
ahead had to trigger some primeval alarm.  She wasn’t alone.

She could tell he wasn’t fooled, but without comment he
continued into the kitchen with his bags.

“I hope you don’t hate fish,” he called.

She assured him she wasn’t picky and retreated to take a hot
shower, which felt so good she stayed under it longer than she should have. 
She thought herself in circles about Daniel.  Did that casual kiss mean
anything?  Was he assuming she was interested in him?  And why wouldn’t he be,
after the way she’d melted all over him that day on the beach?  Should she say
something, the next time he reached for her?

Uh huh, but what?  She almost moaned at her internal battle
between temptation and common sense.

At last, she reluctantly left the shower to get dressed. 
She put the same jeans back on but topped them with a turtleneck sweater she
almost hadn’t brought since this was, after all, summertime.  Yes, it was, and
there’d been a good reason besides s’mores for all those crackling fires she
and her mom had built. 

She emerged to find that he was deep fat frying thick
fillets of fish on the stovetop while sliced potatoes rolled in spices browned
in the oven.

Sophie laughed.  “Fish and chips.”

“Yep.”  He flashed that devastating grin.  “Except, unlike
at your neighborhood joint, this fish came out of the ocean today and the
potatoes were dug by a local truck farmer.  Ed Castaneda.”

“Oh, I remember him,” she said in surprise.  “He used to set
up near the wharf.  Well, he wasn’t the only one, it was kind of a mini
farmer’s market.”

“We still have that from April or so into fall.  Three or four
farmers, some fishermen, a few crafters.”  The grin tugged at his mouth again
as he drained hot oil into a soup can she recognized as one he had retrieved
from her trash beneath the sink.  “Doreen.  Half the time, she had a table so
she could waylay passersby and bend their ear about whatever currently obsessed
her.”

She felt an all-too familiar tug between past and present. 
He was so damn sexy, working in her kitchen smiling like that.  Past…  “I
wonder if Doreen did the same back then,” she said slowly.

He looked at her, his hands briefly pausing, his blue eyes
knowing.  “You mean, you wonder if your mom did know her.”

“I can’t remember.”  That made her feel fretful.  Was this
something she’d deliberately blocked?  No, that didn’t make sense.  Why would
she have?  More likely, she’d been terminally bored while her mother talked to
some old lady.  She might have gone out onto the wharf to study the fishing
boats or just stare down at the water, either hanging over the railing or
peering between the boards that made up the dock.  On a hot day, how she’d
loved the scent of creosote and salt water that mixed with fresh, here so close
to where river met the ocean.

She shook her head.  “It doesn’t matter.”

“There’s no reason it should,” he agreed, sliding the fish
onto plates, then grabbing a hot pad to pull the cookie sheet covered with
golden-brown potatoes from the oven.  But she sensed him watching her as she
asked what he’d like to drink and took glasses from the cupboard.

Once they sat down to eat, Daniel asked about her job, and
she described some of the events she put on and what went into planning them. 
In exchange, he told her some wickedly funny stories about his job, making up
names to protect the not-so-innocent.

She had relaxed almost completely when he dished up a second
helping of potatoes and glanced up.  “Have you ever been married?”

“Heavens, no!”  And then she thought,
wait
.  “Have
you?”

“Nope.  Closest I’ve come was living with a woman for a
year.”

Curiosity drove her.  “What happened?”

His expression was unrevealing.  “She wanted to get married,
I didn’t.  She departed in a huff.”

“Did you miss her?”

He had an odd expression on his face.  “In a way.  Not the
way she wanted.”

Sophie knew what he meant.  She could imagine all too easily
how hurt that unknown woman had been, to realize eventually that he might have
liked her, might have enjoyed having a bedmate, but hadn’t loved her at all.

“Are you involved with anyone?” he asked.

“Now?  No.  It’s…been awhile.”  She clamped her mouth shut
on the impulse to tell him she wasn’t very good at relationships.  She thought
it had something to do with her parents’, or maybe with the aftermath of losing
her mother.  Pretending for so long that she didn’t miss her, wasn’t so lonely
that sometimes she thought she couldn’t bear it, had damaged something in her,
she had begun to suspect.

He’d lost interest in eating and his head had tipped
slightly to one side.  “What were you thinking?”

“Nothing important,” she lied.  “What about you?  Are you
seeing someone?”

“No.”

“Have you, since you came to Cape Trouble?”  It suddenly
occurred to her that she knew several attractive women in the right age range. 
Obviously, he hadn’t hooked up with Naomi Kendrick, but what about Hannah?  And
she’d seen that woman who owned the art gallery through the front window.  She
was dark-haired, voluptuous and beautiful.

He hesitated.  “A few brief things with tourists.”

He’d had sex, he meant.  Although she’d never considered a
one-night stand, she might have felt differently about it if she’d met Daniel
Colburn.

I could have one now
, she thought, her whole body
tingling as she stared at him. 
Not a one-night stand – a three week affair.

If that’s what he was hinting at, and she knew he was.  Why
else would he have asked if she had a boyfriend?  His question hadn’t been
casual at all.

But if I do…I have to be prepared to leave when my time
is up.  To have no regrets.

She could make herself pack up and go home.  What else could
she do?  Embarrass herself and him by loitering in Cape Trouble until she lost
her job and he had to be blunt with her?

But not have regrets – no.  She knew herself too well.  What
she already felt for this man was too powerful, and she wasn’t made for casual,
however much she wished she was.  If she didn’t dare let herself truly fall in
love and trust that the man she loved wouldn’t die or abandon her in some other
way, why couldn’t she enjoy fun but essentially meaningless relationships?

The ache in her chest gave her the answer.

Because I want to be able to trust someone that much.

The awful thing was, she thought Daniel could be that
man…except that he hadn’t even hinted at feeling the same way.  She would be
like one of those tourists.  A brief
thing
.

She couldn’t.  That would hurt even worse than saying no
now.

“I need to get started working,” she blurted.  “You’re fine
where you are.  I’ll clear my place and set up.”