by Addison Fox
“We don’t.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged against the scrutiny. “I don’t know, Mom. We’re friends but she’s entitled to a private life. I don’t ask her about hers and she doesn’t ask me about mine.”
“Just promise me you’ll be careful with each other.”
“Sure we will.” When the frown on her face didn’t fade at his words, he pulled her close again. “I will be careful. She’s my best friend. I’m not going to mess that up. For anything.”
“I hope not, baby.” Audrey sighed, the light sound drifting into the evening light. “I really hope not.”
* * *
He’d had his eye on the woman since she’d flounced out of the nail salon in downtown Roaring Springs that afternoon. It hadn’t been hard to keep tabs on her—she’d seemed to enjoy the attention her high, tight ass and doctor’s office boobs received as she paraded up and down the main street of the resort town.
He’d seen many women come and go over the years. Even in winter, the ones with good bodies found a way to accentuate their figures in tight ski outfits and winter ski jackets that nipped in at the waist. But in the summer...
Well, it was easy to show off.
And this one was perfect. She had the same look and build he needed and if he played his cards right, she’d be relatively easy to lure.
He had a job to do.
The wad of cash he’d refitted before heading out bulged in his pocket. It was so easy to look impressive when you slung a few Benjis outside a stack of singles. He’d been doing it for years and was amazed the ruse never got old.
Or failed.
The dark-haired beauty didn’t disappoint as she continued her trek toward the entertainment district of Roaring Springs. The row of bars and nightclubs were ramping up for a busy Saturday night and she was clearly out on the prowl. He waited, watching which bar she selected and was pleased when she chose one of the ones with a darker interior.
Perfect.
He waited until she slipped through the door, confident she had found her destination for the evening, and got out of the car.
It was time to go to work.
* * *
Aisha unlocked her front door and stepped inside her apartment. Trey followed, his presence both welcome and unwelcome. Which was a departure from every other time in her life she’d been in his company.
Had things already changed that much between them?
Although she’d resigned herself to the ruse they were going to perpetuate on nearly everyone they knew, the reality of actually voicing their plans to Trey’s family had worn her out.
“You want some coffee?” Aisha flipped on the lights before reaching down to pick up Fitz where he wove in and out of the space between her calves.
“Sure.”
She headed for the single-cup brewer on her counter and selected a pod she knew Trey liked. In moments the coffeemaker was going and the cat had grown bored with the attention, scampering off to his favorite spot under the bed in her spare room.
“My parents enjoyed seeing you tonight.” Trey stood at the entrance to the kitchen, one shoulder pressed against the door frame.
“And I enjoyed seeing them. But then again, I always do.” The welcome was always warm at the Colton farm. “It was good to see Bree. She and Rylan look really happy.”
“I know I’m failing in my job as big brother, but I really can’t find a reason to kick the guy out.”
She smiled at that, remembrances of the day Tanisha brought her husband home still vivid in Aisha’s mind. “I felt the same about Randall. I wanted to dislike him on sight but there’s something special when you see a person so besotted with your baby sister. I almost felt bad for the guy.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I knew what he was getting into.” The coffeemaker finished gurgling, and she handed Trey his mug, then turned back to select her own pod.
“That sounds devious.”
“Nope. It’s honest.” She set her mug in place and pressed the button for her own cup of coffee. “Fortunately, Randall might have been wildly in love, but he had his eyes open. An important combination to make it to happy-ever-after.”
“You think that’s what it takes?”
“I think so.” She shrugged, well aware she hadn’t made it to happy-ever-after. “Or I figure it has to be a big part. You can’t put your spouse on a pedestal yet you have to believe there’s something extra special about them. It’s a balance.”
“Why no pedestal? Trey asked.
“Humans don’t live on pedestals. It’s a lot to ask someone to live up to. An ideal instead of learning to love a real live human being.”
He considered her words. “But that extra special part? That’s important, too.”
“Ah,” she said, snagging her own mug off the brewer. “That’s the real trick, I suppose. Thinking someone’s still special after you’ve gone on a vacation together or cooked a holiday meal or shared a bathroom. That’s when the hard part starts.”
“When it’s abundantly clear there’s no pedestal?”
“Exactly.”
Trey took a seat at the table and she took one opposite. The Avalanche Killer photos were still in a stack and she shifted them so as not to spill her drink.
“What about that?” Trey nodded toward the pile. “Those photos. The evidence someone lives in the shadows.”
“I’m not sure.”
While she understood marriage and other relationships had their challenges, what made someone so sick and twisted? Way down deep inside so that there was no evidence—or hope—of humanity. Or of ever living a life that anyone would consider sane or normal.
“I think that’s the hardest part. Knowing how those women suffered is awful. Knowing it happened here in Roaring Springs, right alongside of all of us? I can’t shake it.” Trey dropped his head. “Or the sense that I’ve failed them.”
“How can you think that? You didn’t do this, Trey. None of this is your fault.”
“Yes, but keeping people safe. That is my job.”
“It’s your job to deal with it when someone does bad. But you’re not omniscient. You can’t know what’s coming before it happens.” Aisha stared at the overturned photos, not needing to look at them to know exactly what they contained. “You can’t know the sickness that lives inside someone.”
“So what’s the alternative? Stop worrying? Stop caring?” His last question came out on an agonized cry as Trey leaped up from the table. “I don’t know who I am if I’m not a protector. Yet everything around me suggests I’m doing a piss-poor job of it!”
Aisha had never seen him like this before. While she’d never considered him an arrogant man, Trey Colton oozed self-confidence and purpose. His by-the-book attitude to his job had always made him a ready leader and his staff followed suit. He lived in a way as to be above self-reproach.
And while she firmly did not believe humans lived on pedestals, he was the closest to real-deal perfect as she’d ever met. He was kind and caring. He treated others with the utmost respect, regardless of how they’d treated him in return. And he was loyal. Trustworthy. Real.
And oh, how she loved him.
She’d argued to herself for years that it would be a mistake to act on her feelings. Hell, she’d told him as much the day before, setting strict ground rules for behavior. She knew attempting anything with him was a mistake that could—and likely would—ruin their friendship.
Yet in that moment, his pain roaring through every part of him, she couldn’t stay away. And she couldn’t leave him to stand on that precipice alone. Unable to fight temptation a second longer, Aisha stood and walked toward Trey. She waited a heartbeat—one lone beat—to stare into his golden eyes before she acted.
And then she leaped, pressing forward until their bodies collide
d. Until her lips met his in one hot, searing kiss.
* * *
Trey wasn’t sure how it happened. One moment he was roiling inside, the panic and guilt and fear that someone else would be hurt on his watch consuming him, and then Aisha was in his arms.
And they were consuming each other.
Her long, lithe form filled his arms, her mouth covered his and all rational thought had vanished.
All he could feel or taste or want was her.
Over and over, the kiss spun out, growing by the moment, pulsing with a need he hadn’t even realized was there. Yet... Now that she was in his arms, her mouth on his, Trey couldn’t deny how right it felt. How good.
How perfect?
He ran his hands over her biceps, warm flesh unable to hide the strength she’d honed beneath that expanse of softness. Still, he was unable to drag his mouth away, the feel of her plump lips beneath his the warmest welcome of his life. Her tongue met his, a warm, coffee-flavored duel both seemed determined to master, and he sucked her into his mouth, memorizing her taste. Attempting to brand her in return.
This was Aisha.
His Aisha.
Just like she’d always been. And just as she’d never been.
Unbidden, his mother’s voice filled his head, their earlier conversation echoing in his mind with all the power of a nuclear blast. What if one of you develops feelings?
Feelings?
Dazed, he lifted his head and stared down at her. The high curves of her cheekbones were flushed, as visibly warm as the woman in his arms. “Aish?”
“Hmm?” Her eyes popped open at the sudden realization they’d stopped kissing.
“Um.”
“Oh.” Slim brows rose over those eyes, dark as a midnight sky. “Oh, wow.”
She pushed back, out of his arms before crossing her own. “Okay, right. That didn’t take long.”
He felt as dazed as she looked, but the quickly clearing haze that filled those midnight depths should have clued him in. “Long for what?”
“For me to break the ground rules.”
“What ground rules?”
She tossed up her hands. “The ones we agreed to yesterday!”
“Don’t get mad at me.”
“I’m not mad, I’m—”
“Because I didn’t do...that.”
Whatever slight hope he had that she wouldn’t get angry vanished at his accusation.
“I sure as hell didn’t do it myself.”
“You started it.”
“I—” The bluster immediately went out of her, a balloon deflating in the middle of her kitchen as if popped. “You’re right. I did.”
“It was nice.” Nice? If transcendent experiences could be called nice. Was he really that boring? That ridiculously straitlaced?
Kissing Aisha Allen wasn’t nice.
Or simple.
And in that moment, Trey realized nothing about this situation was easy.
And he had no one to blame but himself.
“I’m going to ignore the nice comment and ask you to leave.”
“It’s probably for the best.”
“I think it is.”
Trey stood and walked his mug to the sink, watching the liquid wash down the drain. He turned on the tap to erase the lingering stain, wishing it was as easy to erase the last few minutes. Hell, the last few days. Since the arrival of the governor’s aide and the ridiculous notion that had consumed his waking hours from the moment the man had walked out of the nondescript county building.
“You can leave the mug in the sink.”
Job done, he did as she asked and turned to face her. The flush had vanished from her cheeks but the aftermath of what they’d done—how they’d ravished each other—still held her body in tight, quivering lines of tension.
He wanted to go to her. Wanted to resume the anything-but-nice passion that had flared between them and see how fast they could generate it again.
He’d give himself even odds it would take less than ten seconds.
Only he didn’t do that. Because good cop Trey Colton didn’t do things like that.
He didn’t pretend to be engaged.
He didn’t do a single thing not by the book.
And he didn’t kiss his best friend until both of them had lost every functioning brain cell between them.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” Since he’d known her, he had asked that question a million times, always firmly assured of the answer.
When she said nothing, just let him pass through the kitchen, Trey understood something else.
Just how shocking it was to realize a kiss could change even the simplest of things.
Chapter 8
Monday morning dawned crisp and clear, the cool Rocky Mountain breeze washing over Aisha’s face as she ran through Roaring Springs. She’d already left downtown far beyond and had nearly reached The Chateau as the summer morning sun rose high in the sky. She’d momentarily considered stopping in to check on Phoebe but figured even Trey’s hardworking cousin was still asleep in bed at 6:00 a.m.
Or was putting the early hour to even better use and making love with her handsome fiancé. If she were smart. And Aisha didn’t know the woman to be anything else.
Which was way more than she could say for herself.
She’d always believed herself to be a smart, savvy woman who had her crap together, but after Saturday night, she was forced to reconsider that assessment. Thirty-five years of thinking one way about yourself didn’t go down very well when you realized, instead, that you’d been a delusional fool.
How the mighty fall.
It was one of her mother’s favorite sayings, each time she watched a celebrity self-destruct or as she shook her head over a news article transcribing the downfall of one politician or another. Aisha had always felt the thought rang with an air of disdain, like the folly of her fellow humans was a foregone conclusion.
Even after the heartbreak of her relationship in grad school, she had wanted to believe the best in others.
As a clinical psychologist, Aisha was well aware she couldn’t help everyone. She wouldn’t have gotten past her first year of practice without accepting that reality. But she still retained the hope that people could be better. That they always had the ability to rise above themselves.
Yep, she thought, disgust still clogging her breath in ways that had nothing to do with the exertion or the altitude. Delusions.
She was full of them.
She’d beaten herself up repeatedly since Saturday night, the consequences of going with impulse not lost on her.
It was nice.
Nice?
The woman seated next to her in church was nice. The scent of her new laundry detergent was nice. The wildflowers blooming in her backyard were nice.
But kissing Trey Colton. That was...
Exceptional.
Only he clearly hadn’t thought so. He’d been polite and kind and had hotfooted it out of her kitchen as fast as he could.
And he hadn’t called yesterday.
They didn’t talk every day, but they talked most days. Or at minimum, they texted. But he hadn’t done either yesterday and she’d stayed diligently away from her phone, going so far as to bury it in her purse around lunchtime.
As a distraction, she’d spread the Avalanche Killer paperwork out on her living room floor, sitting in the midst of it as she attempted to decipher patterns within the data. Patterns she knew were there if she’d only look hard enough.
It was only after eight hours with the images and becoming increasingly depressed at the lack of any real connection that she’d finally given up. She’d swept up the photos, tucked them in her work bag and headed for bed. Burying herself beneath the covers didn’t do much for her mind-set but it had given her time to think thr
ough how to reset her relationship with Trey.
They couldn’t put the genie back in the bottle, so all they could do now was damage control.
This wasn’t their first bump in the road. Although Trey likely didn’t know the reason why, she had pulled away from their relationship during the Year of Kenneth. At the time, she’d used the stress and pressure of grad school as her excuse for the limited conversations, missed trips home and less-than-newsy emails. It had seemed to work because Trey was there for her when she came back to the land of the living and hadn’t seemed wise to her heartbreak.
Not that she’d been all that forthcoming once the sharp pain faded into something more manageable.
Kenneth was a grand love story, a dramatic heartbreak and an enormous life lesson, all rolled into one. Even now, she could think back on that time and feel the twin emotions of exhilaration and embarrassment as if they’d happened yesterday instead of over a decade ago.
Which made her decision to push Trey toward the physical on Saturday night an even bigger mistake.
What had come over her?
Trey was what had come over her. The sheer torture of watching him struggle over the discovered bodies and his missing cousin, Skye, had been too much to bear. He was such a good man. And she was still willing to give him that credit, despite the “nice” comment.
This wasn’t Trey’s first difficult case. Although Bradford County hadn’t seen anything like a serial killer before—thankfully—his tenure hadn’t been crime-free. The region had considerable money, and with that, power inevitably followed. In his nearly four years in office, Trey had brought down a gun smuggling ring and a drug gang operating up near Vail and had solved two separate murders.
But watching him struggle through the Avalanche Killer case? Observing the forces that acted around him—the Feds, the pressure of his family and the overwhelming anxiety of Barton Evigan’s mounting campaign against him. It was all much harder than she could have imagined.
The property for the stately spa resort known as The Chateau rose up in front of her, the impressive facade home to one of the most decadent places in all of Roaring Springs. Although she didn’t go often, there were occasional professional events held there that she’d attended. A few years back she and Tanisha had treated their mother to a day of pampering for her birthday, and Aisha had held Tan’s bridal shower there, as well.