From Winter's Ashes: Girl Next Door Crime Romance Series - Book Two

by Amy Leigh Simpson

Well, both ideas.

  Her lips still tingling, she gave his chest a little shove. “What makes you think that’s a good idea?”

  “Actually, I think it’s the best idea I’ve had in quite some time.” He wagged his eyebrows.

  With a rueful shake of her head, she laughed. “Dream on. The original bet stands. I resist your kiss for the rest of the night, and you give me a serenade.”

  “Does anyone win in this scenario?”

  “I guess that depends on if you brought your A game.”

  “Oh, I’m never without my A game. The question is … can you handle the heat?”

  And therein lay the problem. She wasn’t sure she could.

  Chapter 36

  Finn Carson

  Worst. Bet. Ever.

  Why on earth had he agreed to this? In his desperation to protect her, his belligerence had left her frightened. Having her all twitchy and nervous wouldn’t help her keep a level head in this situation. He’d been looking for a way to ease the tension.

  So he teased her. Which used to have her spitting icicles. Instead, she’d flipped the tables on him. Beating him at his own arrogant game.

  An arrogant façade, he realized, that was sinking in too deep—becoming a little too automatic. What he once viewed as protection was instead stirring up more trouble than he could handle. Because while his crassness was meant to intentionally provoke her, what he’d provoked instead was his desire for this woman who had—until recently—always been untouchable.

  And it was the one thing he couldn’t seem to stop doing. The physical liberties that accompanied the public exhibition of their arrangement had him barreling past the warnings—past the boundaries he’d set to keep his affections in check—to make up for all those lost years without her.

  Yes, he talked a big game, but he wasn’t the guy who took advantage. No one would guess it but he was, in fact, the guy who never let anything go too far. At least, he was until now.

  Finn fiddled with the poker chip he’d kept in his pocket since the hospital, contemplating his next move. Perhaps his luck had run out. Hmm. Then again, maybe it was just beginning.

  Bracing his hands on the shelf, he caged her in and bent his head to trace the tip of his nose along the fragile tendon of her neck, drinking deeply from the sweet wintery scent of her skin, her hair, and the softly exhaled mint of her breath. “What song will you sing for me, Joss?”

  “Little presumptuous.” She sighed the words. He felt the quiver pulse over her, her head tilting back, her resolve already fraying. He smiled against her neck and laid a chaste kiss over her heartbeat. Another near her earlobe, before skimming his lips over the tender shell.

  She tried to turn away, but he grasped her shoulders and twisted her back around. Regretting it the instant he felt her tense.

  “Joss? Joselyn, look at me. These hands …” which he rubbed gently down her arms, “will never hurt you.”

  She swallowed and nodded. The shadows in her eyes lifting like a cloud of smoke, bringing an immediate sense of relief and a ballooning host of unanswered questions about who hurt her and who he needed to pulverize.

  And then, well … then she was folding into him too easily, as if the space between his arms was for her alone.

  “Ask me to kiss you, Joss.”

  She drew her hands up and rested them on his chest, leaning into him as she raised up to her tiptoes. “Never,” she whispered so close he could taste her kiss already. Her eyes challenging him to forfeit their bet, the miniscule distance between their lips …

  And both of their bluffs.

  The faintest beeping sounds wove through his subconscious, but somehow in not thinking this through, he’d made up his mind to allow a few more minutes of reckless behavior before he cut his rampant desire off at the knees. And walked away with the win.

  He tightened his grip around her low back. Her hands slipped up around his neck, her fingers tickling the damaged skin and threading into his hair.

  Screw the win. The real prize was right here. The banter. Their budding friendship. The magic of her kiss …

  Yes, back to that.

  He leaned down the last inch, simultaneously lifting her to meet his expectant lips—

  “Well, well, would you look at that, Archer?”

  Sal’s voice stomped out the flames, reducing the sensual sparring match to some kind of awkward, teenage basement grope fest. And they hadn’t even been kissing, yet. Or groping. But in light of their position and the kiss that was a millisecond of enjoyment away from Finn’s lips, they had no choice but to jerk apart, reacting with the shame of being caught red-handed. And red-faced.

  “I’m glad to see you guys were keeping busy and not runaway with panic.” Archer grinned, all superior like he hadn’t also crossed the line when he’d thought Sadie was a murder suspect and went and fell in love with her anyway.

  As much as Finn tried to form a comeback to that effect, nothing came. The stilted silence beside him meant Joselyn went blank too.

  “Conveniently locked in this tiny room with a beautiful woman. Finn, you scoundrel, did you plan—”

  “All right, all right. We get it, you caught us.” Finn interrupted Sal’s jest. “What’s important right now is did you catch the gunner?”

  “Yes and no.” Archer finally stowed the infuriating smile. “We caught the guy with the rifle, but we’re pretty sure he’s not involved with the other attempts on Joselyn’s life. His name’s Donnie Fuller. He was released from a psychiatric facility two days ago and was apparently staked out in protest of Joselyn’s father’s support for the war. His brother was recently killed in Afghanistan. He’d assumed Declan Whyte would be in the restaurant since the reservation was under his name.”

  “We’re not entirely sure how he found out where Mr. Whyte would be dining,” Sal tagged in, “but your father has been pushing this thing with you two pretty hard, and we figure with the publicity Donnie got confused. Not too difficult considering the man is a loony toon. Anyway, when Declan never showed, Donnie split. He confessed his intent to kill.”

  “Okay, then why did he follow us here?” Finn folded his arms, knowing full well he looked defensive.

  “He didn’t.”

  “What do you mean?” He felt a chill rake over his skin.

  “We caught him right after you guys split. It was only a half-hour ago that we were informed there was a security breach here.” Shrugging, Sal wedged his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Turns out, the groundskeeper, Edwin—”

  “Erwin,” Joselyn interrupted.

  Sal’s gaze landed on Joselyn, a smile crept over his lips. “Erwin, came back over to the house to get his wife’s sleeping pills she left over here during the day. The alarm went off, and he forgot the code. It was recently switched, but the real problem was that the system hasn’t been working right for days.”

  Archer cleared his throat. “Someone from the security company was supposed to come fix it today. Gloria said they never showed. Then when we couldn’t find you, Gloria suggested we check the safe rooms. We tracked down your father to figure out how to override the lock, and there you have it. You’re all caught up.”

  “So, what you’re really saying is you still don’t have a suspect.” Finn could feel the heat on his cheeks, felt the frustration and embarrassment hitting all the telltale markers.

  “Unfortunately, no. No suspect.” Archer agreed, looking equally frustrated for at least some of the same reasons.

  “Fantastic.” Finn pushed past Archer and Sal and spoke over his shoulder, “Come on, Joss. Let’s get you home.”

  If at all possible, Finn was more on edge than before. Not knowing who the predator was or when he might strike was enough to screw with anyone’s mind. The force of his anxiety drummed against his skull.

  Glancing over at Joselyn, he could see it was getting to her too. The stiff line of her body held none of its usual grace.

  And even though they had a security deta
il on their tail and a team back at Sadie’s condo sweeping the area, a grim feeling overshadowed their every move. Like they might, at any moment, encounter the wrath of a faceless enemy.

  Unnerved by the helplessness, he itched to do something—anything—to be a hero. But the only thing he could think to do was lighten the mood. He was good at that.

  “So what’d you think of our first date?”

  “Scintillating.” Her eyes didn’t stray from the fogged window, or the dark smog blurring the passing landscape beyond it.

  Okay, well, that didn’t work.

  “You mean you’re not gonna go home and scribble in your diary that I fulfilled all of your deep-seated fantasies about me from high school?”

  Her head whipped back, the soft flutter of her hair fanned out and draped around her shoulders like a silk scarf. But instead of the amusement or playful annoyance he was expecting, daggers beamed across the bench seat and struck him perplexed.

  “Doesn’t that get old? Can’t you ever be serious? I know tonight was a false alarm, but this is scary. It can’t be smoothed over with your sarcasm and your ass-backwards charm. Someone is trying to kill me. Someone might kill you too! And you think you can keep badgering me because I was in love with you in high school? You think that gives you license to taunt me forever? To play all these mind games, stringing me along. Grow up, Finn. ” Her voice broke, and she turned away.

  All the air stole out of his lungs. He tore his gaze back to the road for safety’s sake, but although he was looking, he wasn’t seeing yellow lines … he was seeing red.

  Was she messing with him? Fair game, Finn supposed, because he’d been doing his share of that too, but this jab hit hard. Harder than the fist she’d planted in his jaw days ago.

  He eased on the brake and pulled the truck onto the slim shoulder of the two-lane road. In the distance their entourage followed suit.

  “What did you say?” He managed to tamp down his temper, but the words still growled from his throat.

  She turned back to him, the slightest sheen glowing from her eyes. “Why did you pull over?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  Pained silence settled over them, and he saw it again, that little flicker of enlightenment. Then panic. “This is a really dangerous place to stop.”

  “So then start talking,” he hissed.

  “Why? It’s not like it will change anyth—”

  “Were you or were you not in love with me in high school?” He interrupted, not able to wait for her to finally get back to the topic at hand.

  In the dim glow cast from the dash, he saw her swallow, her eyes riveted on her hands in her lap. Her words growled right back. “As if you didn’t know.”

  “How would I have known? All I knew was that you’d said I wasn’t good enough to breathe the same air as you.” His heart hammered in his ears. If she was messing with him now he’d never forgive her.

  “How thick could you possibly be? From the first moment we met I hung on your every word. I practically begged you to kiss me in the music room when you sprinted away like I had leprosy, and then Cody was trying to get you to see the light and ask me to prom, but no, you kept treating me like some pathetic groupie. Well, not anymore. I’m through being under your spell.”

  “Joselyn, I was in love with you too.”

  “Oh, that’s rich. You know, I was right. You really are a jerk! Take me home. I’m officially done with this.”

  “No! I was crazy about you! Obsessed, even!” And now he was yelling at her, feeling very close to being full-tilt crazy again. “But I was so insecure I didn’t think you felt the same.”

  “Finn, I know you. If that were true, you would have pursued me. Asked me out. I don’t know why you are doing this, but we can’t undo the past.” The brokenness in her voice about shattered his heart.

  He unlatched his seatbelt and slid across the bench to her side. Cupping her face, he saw the truth shining in her eyes. “We were manipulated. Both buying into a lie.” Finn’s father’s words flooded back to him. Seems to me you’re casting judgment based on a half-truth. Maybe even a full deception.

  Oh, how had he not seen it back then? Cody’s jealousy. His lies. The beautiful beacon of Joselyn’s love. “Imagine how different things might have been for us had we only known this sooner.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek. She tried to turn away, but Finn held on, stroking the glistening trail off her velvety-smooth skin. She drew in a shaky breath and slowly lifted her eyes. “Don’t you see? The damage is done.”

  “Ahhh!” A rap on her window made her scramble out of her seat with a panicked squeak. She landed on Finn’s lap, and for the briefest moment she clung like ivy.

  Looking over her shoulder, Finn’s eyes connected with the steely glare from Joselyn’s titan U.S. Marshal.

  Before Finn could react, Joselyn was somehow slipping off his lap and out the door, replaced by a rush of glacial air, and a cold, hard knot in his chest.

  The passing prism of headlights illuminated her swimming eyes before she left the parting comment he knew was coming, “Go home, Finn. It’s over,” and slammed the door.

  Chapter 37

  Joselyn Whyte

  Three fifteen.

  Joselyn reached down beside the bed and snatched up the little black dress she’d left balled up on the floor. Then with a lazy toss, used it to obstruct the nagging view of her clock—an obnoxious reminder that she was obviously not sleeping. Miserable hours had tarried by, laughing as each minute turned with the monotony of an hour.

  The moonlight was muted in a cloudy web of shadows. And Joselyn’s heart felt as dark and empty as the endless night.

  Imagine how different things might have been ...

  Squeezing her eyes shut, Joselyn let Finn’s words wash over her like a wish from the collective broken shards of her heart—praying that what if into existence. That somehow, God might mercifully rewind the clock and erase the pain—the betrayal—of the past.

  Praying?

  Really?

  Strange enough, it had become part of her routine. Thinking back on the past week, Joselyn realized she’d reached beyond herself for the first time, uttering inaudible prayers on an exhaled breath. All the while some tiny seed had bloomed in her chest.

  How was it even possible? And did she really believe?

  Maybe she did, just a little. Or maybe she simply hoped she did.

  It felt foolish to overlook all the ways she’d been robbed as a child, but somehow, she wasn’t angry anymore. She hadn’t made a conscious decision about it, but when she’d caught herself praying, she felt this confident calm soak into her pores. And an insurgence of warmth would wrap around her.

  If I ever stop running and really surrender, could I really be loved? Accepted? Flaws and all?

  Joselyn heard a tap on the door. Pulling her restless bones up in bed, she flicked on the bedside lamp and called out, “Yeah?”

  Sadie slipped into the room and crawled onto the bed. “I couldn’t sleep, and I had a feeling you were up.” Her expression was kind, but Joselyn knew what she looked like. Having tied her hair up several combative hours ago, the knot had slumped to one side. Eyes puffy from hours of tears and likely demon red. And since she hadn’t bothered to wash her face—and was risking a constellation of zits tomorrow—she was sure the Picasso print displayed there was a swirly mess of colors reminiscent of a child’s finger painting.

  She’d thrown on one of Sadie’s cut up, Flash Dance inspired sweatshirts and ridiculously loud blue and green pajama pants with an ice cream sundae print. But even with the layers of clothes and covers, Joselyn felt cold. Frozen, all the way through to her heart.

  She leaned back and rested her head on Sadie’s shoulder. Maybe some of that great faith would absorb through osmosis.

  “He finally gave up a few hours ago and went home,” Sadie whispered.

  Joselyn had heard the racket outside when Marshal Raglan wouldn’t let Finn near th
e door per her request. She couldn’t think clearly when he was around. With the complications of the past and the looming danger of the present, it was easier to push him away and protect him than try to unearth every mountain that stood in the way.

  And as much as she wanted to explore the possibility of a fresh start, she was afraid there was nothing left of her deeply damaged heart to give.

  What would happen when he found out how desolate she was? How might he torture himself when he realized what he’d done? Joselyn figured she was far beyond repair, but maybe she could protect Finn from the ugly truth of the past.

  And the murderous criminal in their present.

  “He won’t give up, you know.”

  And Joselyn knew that too. It was who he was. Strong and steady. Giving and heroic. Why would he even want someone like her?

  I was in love with you too.

  Was, past tense.

  So maybe he didn’t really want her now. Maybe it really was about their arrangement. But the thought wouldn’t take root.

  She felt so weak. Knowing if she’d heard him out tonight she’d tell him how much she still loved him. How she would do anything to be his, for however much time she had left.

  And the scariest thing of all was that she was sure he would find a way into the Whyte Christmas gala tomorrow night, despite her attempts to cut him off tonight. He and Archer were probably formulating a plan right now.

  Tonight had felt like a sort of noble sacrifice. Tomorrow foreshadowed a complete cave-in.

  And once that happened, she’d be a goner. No doubt about it.

  “I know. But I wish he would give up just this once.”

  “Liar.” Sadie wrapped her arm around Joselyn and cocooned her with her unwavering strength until hope welled up so bright Joselyn could believe that almost anything was possible.

  Isn’t it written somewhere that all things are possible? If that’s true, and if it’s not too much to ask, I’m in need of a miracle. I’m just not quite sure what it is yet.