Teenage drama, he thought now. Except for the addition of an innocent baby, and the little matter of attempted murder.
Sutton shook his head. He felt guilty for having the thought, but it was tough not to think that Shannon’s subsequent miscarriage had been a blessing in disguise. There was little chance that would have been a healthy environment in which to raise a child.
He debated about whether or not to bring any of this up to Adeline. He wasn’t sure how relevant it was to her situation, and he wasn’t even sure how long she planned to stay in the area. For all he knew, she could be gone by next week.
The thought bothered him, which was foolish, because it wasn’t like the two of them had something going on.
Exactly.
Although he had to admit to a growing interest along those lines. Maybe he’d dropped by the fish camp initially out of a sense of curiosity – about both the place itself and the woman currently in residence – but she’d occupied a fair amount of his thoughts over the past several days. And not just because he’d accidentally seen her breasts.
Which were pretty damn fantastic.
No, Adeline Walker intrigued him. Behind the sadness in her eyes, he sensed… well, hidden depths sounded cliched. But there was something going on there, and he was the type of person that once piqued, couldn’t settle until he’d satisfied his curiosity.
Of course, that wasn’t really saying much. An uncurious scientist wouldn’t get very far.
Realizing that he’d reached the front door of the Black Walnut Inn while debating with himself over past and present romantic follies, Sutton stopped, smoothed back his unruly hair. He really needed to stop by the barbershop and have it cut, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Pulling open the heavy wooden door, Sutton was surprised by the din of voices. Willow mentioned that it was cocktail hour, but he hadn’t expected it to be this crowded. Then again, they’d had a long, hot summer, which pushed prime leaf-viewing time further into November, and the number of visitors in town right now reflected that.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light inside. After they did, they widened. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when Willow told him the place had gone upscale, but this surpassed it. With its exposed beams, rich wood paneling, and fireplace crafted from river rock – complete with a mellow fire – the lobby reflected its locale. But while Sutton wasn’t the most design-savvy guy around, even he could tell that the furnishings and finishes were a step above the usual mountain lodge.
Okay, several steps.
A sign on the front desk – a free-standing, live-edged table that looked to be constructed from the material after which the inn was named – discretely advertised their VIP service, which included fresh flowers delivered to your room daily, along with chocolate-covered strawberries and champagne.
Suddenly conscious of his scuffed boots and the green paint splatters on his jeans – and possibly in his hair – Sutton hesitated near the door.
Screw it. He wasn’t going to be here long.
Heading toward the bar area at the back of the room, he noted that there were maybe ten, twelve people present, most of them women. He wished he could say that his gut didn’t clench, but inside the grown man lurked the gawky teenager he’d once been. He might have published a peer-reviewed study on the ecology and transmission of antimicrobial-resistant bacteria in animal and human populations, but when it came to largish groups of women in a social setting, he would never not feel like a rube.
Wiping his palms on his jeans, he realized that he hadn’t asked Willow how to identify the specific women he was supposed to meet.
However, he didn’t think it was going to be a problem.
“Another round for the birthday girl, please.”
The woman who sidled up to the bar beside him was close to his age, maybe a few years older, and definitely a few more sheets to the wind. She turned glassy blue eyes his direction and laid a hand on his arm.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Did I cut in front of you?”
“Ladies first,” he said. And then, because he was capable of putting two and two together. “Are you a member of the book club?”
“The what?” She appeared confused, but then her eyes lit with comprehension. “Oh. The book club.” Air quotes implied by her tone, she laughed, and then leaned in closer. “I have a secret. We don’t really read most of the books. That’s just an excuse to get together away from our families, trash talk, and drink adult beverages.”
“I have a secret about your secret,” Sutton said. “No one really thinks your primary objective is reading.”
She frowned, and then laughed, tossing back artfully highlighted brown hair. “You’re probably right. But it sounds better than saying we’re a bunch of drunk gossips.”
Sutton smiled, deciding that he liked her. He appreciated people who could laugh at themselves. “I’m Sutton McCloud, by the way. And unless there are two ‘book clubs’ staying here right now, in which case I apologize for the mistaken identity, I’ll be your trail guide to Rabun Bald this Saturday.”
Her blue eyes widened. “Really? Oh wow, this is awesome. Hey girls,” she said, turning around and addressing the group of women seated at a nearby table. “This is Sutton.” In imitation of a gameshow hostess, she gestured toward him with flourish. “He’s going to take us hiking.”
A cheer went up, drawing the attention of the other patrons as well as a smirk from the bartender, who slid an unspecified mixed drink toward…
“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”
“Oh! I’m Julie. Julie Harlowe. I’m the one who organized this whole thing for Hannah. I have connections, so I got a killer deal, including a complimentary facial for the guest of honor!” She clapped her hands, and Sutton found her enthusiasm infectious, even though he absolutely could not relate.
“That’s great.”
“Isn’t it! Commere,” she said, tugging on his sleeve. “You have to meet Hannah. It’s her birthday tomorrow.”
Sutton met Hannah, along with four other women whose names he was sure he was going to forget before Saturday.
“Wait,” Julie gasped, lifting his hand and inspecting it. “You don’t have a drink. I kidnapped you before you could order one. Hang on. I’ll go fix that.”
“I don’t need –”
“You can’t sit with us,” she swept her arm around the table “without one. It’s the rule.”
The rule also included a bump of whiskey to go with his beer, but he managed to convince them that was his limit, as he was driving. However, after twenty minutes of surprisingly easy and entertaining conversation, he decided that he might not have to block Willow’s number, after all. The women were funny, and far more eager than they were paranoid. And best of all, he didn’t get the impression that any of them would melt down if they broke a nail.
“Ladies, it has been a pleasure,” he said, and surprisingly meant it. “But I’m afraid I have to head out.”
There were protests, including a resounding boo from a couple of the women, but Sutton held up his hands.
“I made previous plans, and if I don’t leave now, I’m going to be late. I’m sure you wouldn’t want that.”
“I might,” said the redhead across the table, and gave him a playful wink.
The others laughed, and Sutton shook his head. It was easy enough to play along, because he’d already learned that she was a happily married mother of three, and not serious at all. “I will see you all bright and early Saturday. Enjoy your spa day tomorrow.”
He’d discovered, when going in search of the bathroom a short while ago, that there was a patio door adjacent to the currently empty dining area, which would act as a shortcut to where he’d parked. Heading that direction, Sutton was halfway across the dimly lit room when someone called his name.
Julie, the girls’ weekend organizer and Hannah’s self-proclaimed best friend, caught up to him.
“I don’t want t
o make anything awkward,” she said, once again laying a hand on his arm. “But if you have some free time tomorrow evening – or maybe your plans don’t pan out tonight – this is my number.” She handed him the cocktail napkin on which she’d scrawled it. “Unlike the others… well, Hannah just got divorced, but she’s not ready, you know? Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I am not married. And I would love it if you gave me a call.”
“Ahhh…” As he tried to figure out how to respond, Sutton caught movement out of the corner of his eye from the direction of the short hall leading to the bathrooms. Maybe another guest, maybe one of the other women. He wondered if he looked as uncomfortable as he felt. “Thank you.”
Which was a dumb thing to say. But despite the, as Willow called it, harmless flirting, he hadn’t expected to get hit on.
Emboldened, whether by alcohol, his inept response, or a combination of the two, Julie leaned up to hug him. “You’re adorable,” she whispered in the direction of his ear, planting a kiss on his cheek before trotting back toward the lobby.
Sutton watched her go, and then once again shook his head. He hoped she was drunk enough that she would forget about this by Saturday, because he had no intention of following up. As he headed toward the patio, he noticed a trash can beside the door, and tossed the cocktail napkin into it. He may have decided that he’d liked her, and she was unquestionably attractive, but fraternizing with Willow’s clients seemed like a bad idea. Not to mention that he had… other matters on his mind.
Speaking of which, he needed to order the pizza.
There was a hole-in-the-wall Italian place on the lake, located in a former boat house, and their food was amazing. Sutton was put on hold when he called, but he tuned out the elevator music as he headed toward the clinic to double check on Colonel Mustard. He liked to believe that Willow was a woman of her word, and wouldn’t leave the animal stranded, but the two of them didn’t have the greatest relationship. However, when he peeked through the glass, he saw that the carrier was gone.
“Thanks for holding. How can I help you?”
“No problem,” Sutton said in response, and headed down the street. “I’d like to order a…”
“I’m sorry?” said the girl on the other end of the call. “I didn’t catch that last part.”
“A pizza,” Sutton continued, studying the late model silver Porsche that was parked beside his truck. Backing up, he read the vanity license plate.
SLD IT
“Any particular kind?”
Recognizing the sarcasm in the girl’s tone, he told her the specifics. “I’ll pick it up,” he said, and gave her his information while staring at the car.
“It should be ready in about twenty minutes.”
“Great.”
After she hung up, Sutton held onto his phone. It would be easy enough to give Ethan a call. His brother would run the plate, no problem. Hell, he might even know who the car belonged to without going to the trouble. Porsches weren’t thick on the ground around here, even considering the amount of wealth concentrated in the homes around the lake.
Porsches with personalized plates reading “Sold It” – at least, he assumed that’s what it was supposed to say – were pretty damn specific.
Sutton glanced up and down the street. There were other businesses here. Restaurants. Plenty of legitimate reasons for a vehicle such as this to be parked along the street near his clinic. No reason to feel concern.
And yet the hackles on his neck stood at attention.
Beckett Caldwell.
He’d bet any amount of money. Because the man had exactly the sort of arrogance that demanded a vanity plate on a vanity car.
And while yes, there were restaurants nearby, and lots of tourists occupying parking spaces, Sutton couldn’t help but feel like this particular spot was chosen deliberately.
A sort of welcome home fuck you.
Sutton indulged in a quick fantasy of keying the paint, slashing the tires, but that would be stooping to a level which he held himself above.
God damn it. Sometimes, being the better person really sucked.
Annoyed as he was, Sutton forced himself to keep moving. He’d been home for well over a month now, so encountering both Beckett – or his car, at any rate – and Shannon had only been a matter of time. It was kind of a miracle that he hadn’t seen either of them sooner. Especially given that Shannon worked at Clancy’s, and he was there probably a couple times a week.
He almost wondered if she’d been deliberately avoiding him.
Arriving at his truck, Sutton unlocked the door, and then simply stood there beside it for a moment.
Let sleeping dogs lie, he reminded himself.
He had a pizza to pick up.
CHAPTER NINE
THE knock on the door startled Adeline awake, and in her confusion, she tried to roll over. Remembering too late that she’d fallen asleep on the sofa, she got tangled in the blanket. Unable to free herself before gravity did its thing, she bumped her injured shoulder against the table on her way toward the floor.
Turning the air blue around her, she clutched her throbbing arm.
“Are you okay?”
Adeline shrieked when she realized the question came from right above her. “Jesus,” she said, shoving her hair out of her face to glare at Sutton. “Give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”
“Sorry.” Sutton sat the pizza down on the coffee table, which he then moved out of the way. Leaning over, he offered his hand.
Adeline frowned at it and then him. “How did you get in here?”
“The door was open.”
“What?”
“When I knocked, the door opened a crack. It must not have been fully latched.”
She turned her confused stare on the door in question. She’d been out of sorts when she came in earlier, making a beeline toward the analgesics for the headache she had brewing, but had she really been that careless?
“Adeline?”
Glancing back, she realized that Sutton was still holding out his hand. She took it, the callused warmth oddly familiar. Maybe because he’d held her hand when he pulled her out of that cellar.
She stumbled a little when she stood, and he used his arm to steady her. It was a very masculine arm, long and firmly muscled beneath the form-fitting thermal he wore. He smelled like wood smoke, and a hint of male sweat. She breathed in deeply before realizing what she was doing.
The moment drew out, until she was conscious of every single point of contact between their bodies.
“Are you okay?”
The question sounded different this time. Gruffer.
“Yes,” she said, and then cleared the thickness from her own throat. “I’m fine.”
Adeline started to step back, but her feet were still caught in the blanket. It was only Sutton’s quick reflexes that kept her from once again landing on her ass.
“Hang on,” he said before simply… picking her up, moving her away from the sofa. When he set her back on her feet, she felt dizzy for reasons that had nothing to do with balance.
“Thanks,” she said, tugging her sweater back into place. “I, uh, have problems with my equilibrium sometimes, especially if I’m… out of whack.” She glanced up. “I’m deaf in my left ear.”
He studied her a moment, and Adeline hoped he wasn’t about to ask questions she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer, or worse, begin to shout. It wasn’t an uncommon reaction when people learned she was hearing impaired.
“What were you really doing at the Driscoll place?”
Adeline’s mouth opened. Closed. “I’m sorry?”
“What were –”
“No, I don’t need you to repeat the question. I heard you. I just don’t understand how you went from point A to like… R.”
“The other morning, you said you were lost,” Sutton explained. “And when you got out of the car to see if your signal would improve, you heard the puppy barking. Since you usually get better reception by cli
mbing up rather than down, I can’t imagine you would have wandered down the embankment, closer to the house, for that purpose. But given that you’re partially deaf, and the puppy was down in the cellar surrounded by dirt and dense stone, I do imagine you would have had to be pretty close to the house in order to hear him crying.”
“That’s… actually quite logical.” When he didn’t respond, she cleared her throat again. “You think I lied.”
Sutton winced. “I didn’t mean to sound accusatory. But playing it back in my head… yeah. I guess I did. I’m sorry. Sometimes a minor inconsistency will sort of simmer in the back of my brain, and I’ll be trying to work it out without even realizing I’m doing so. I guess that’s why they call it the back burner. Anyway, if I acquire a new piece of information related to that inconsistency, then bam. There it is. Front and center. And I don’t really think about anything aside from figuring out how the pieces fit together.”
“You know.” Adeline pinched the bridge of her nose, both amazed and chagrined that he’d made that connection. “The funny thing is – although it’s more along the lines of wow, this is awkward, rather than funny ha ha – you’re right. I was trespassing.”
His eyebrows went up, curiosity clearly written all over his features, but after studying her a moment, he shrugged. “You’re under no obligation to tell me what you were doing. Unless you were the one who dognapped the puppy and dumped it there, which I don’t believe to be the case. I don’t think anyone really cares that you were trespassing… well, Ms. Mary might, but that’s just because she’s a busybody.”
Since the cat – or puppy, she guessed – was already out of the bag, Adeline saw no reason to keep it a secret. “I, um, take photographs of abandoned homes and buildings, research their history, and… put it online. In a blog. Sometimes, I use the photographs I take for my actual job – I’ve licensed several as stock photos – or if they’re really atmospheric, I sell the prints in my stepmother’s art studio. But it’s mostly just a hobby.”
“That’s… not at all what I was expecting to hear.”
“What were you expecting?”
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