She’d put her life on hold to ask questions about Lily Green and visit a grieving mother. “This is a nice place. Good neighborhood too. One of my buddies in high school lived in the green house three down.”
“Is that how you knew where I lived?”
“No, I asked my mom. One of her best friends was your realtor.”
“So much for privacy,” she muttered.
“Small town. Privacy is relative.”
“I guess that’s true.” She pulled a glass from the box and put it directly into the dishwasher.
“Want some help?”
“No, but thanks.” She finished with the glasses, and because it wasn’t in my nature to stand around when there was work to be done, I collected the empty box from her and folded up the packing paper, then broke down the box.
“Where do you want this?”
“There’s a stack of empties outside my bedroom down the hallway.”
“Got it.” I strode that way, taking the box and paper along.
My boots seemed twice as loud as normal on her hardwood floors. There were two rooms down the narrow hall. On the right was her bedroom. The mattress rested on the floor, the blankets unmade. Three suitcases were pushed against the far wall, open and overflowing.
Winslow seemed so put together. Did it bother her living in a mess? Because it sure as hell would have bothered me.
Opposite her room was another crammed with boxes. I added mine to the short stack of flattened cardboard, then returned to the kitchen.
The dishwasher was running. Winn had retreated to the living room. Beside her, on the center cushion of the leather couch, was the purse she’d carried in earlier and a stack of files.
The couch was the only piece of furniture in the room, maybe in the whole house. It sat at an odd angle beneath the center light fixture. Beside it was an unopened box that Winn had shoved beside an armrest to use as a makeshift end table.
Had her ex taken the other furniture? Was it still being moved? I was about to ask when a manila file folder caught my eye from beneath her purse. Walking closer, I read the name on the tab.
Harmony Hardt.
The girl I’d found at the base of Indigo Ridge.
There were likely photos in that folder. Photos of the images forever burned into my brain. The dark hair matted with blood. The limbs askew. The blood. The death.
“You’re looking into the suicides,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to.”
“They’re suicides, Winn.”
She stayed quiet, not agreeing or disagreeing.
“It’s sad,” I said. “Horrific. I get why you want to find a different explanation. Most outsiders do.”
“You know, you keep reminding me that I’m new in town. But I’m not all that new. I’ve spent a lot of time here, especially when I was a kid. This was my father’s hometown.”
“There’s a difference between visiting Quincy and living in Quincy.”
“Well, I live here now.”
“Yes, you do.” And that made this insatiable attraction to her exponentially more complicated.
Winn rose up and leaned over the back of the couch, peering toward the window that overlooked the porch. The ex was still there, his face glued to his phone and his fingers flying over its screen.
“He’s still here,” she grumbled with an eye roll. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
I plucked her phone from the back pocket of my jeans. “This was at my place.”
“Damn.” She stood and crossed the room, taking it from my hand. Then she tossed it in the general direction of her purse, like she didn’t care if it vanished again. “It must have fallen out of my pocket. I’m a bit scattered right now, but I would have tracked it down eventually.”
“You don’t need it?”
“Not really. It’s my personal cell, the one Skyler’s been calling.” She went to the couch, plopping down in the same seat. “You’re welcome to sit down. But if you need to go, it’s fine.”
The only thing waiting for me at home was a stack of bills to pay. This woman was far more entertaining than hours spent in my office, so I took the seat beside her, leaving enough space to keep my dick from getting any ideas.
“So what was the reason you called it off? Your engagement?” It was none of my business, but I was asking anyway. Maybe if I understood her better, I’d get her off my mind. That, and go a few years without kissing her.
Days later and the temptation of her lips was as powerful as ever.
She was as captivating as she was dangerous.
“He’s not the man I thought he was,” she said.
The asshole had probably been fucking someone else. Idiot. “Sorry.”
“It’s better now than if we’d actually gotten married.”
“True.”
Like Skyler knew we were talking about him, the doorbell rang.
Winslow’s nostrils flared. “He’s stubborn.”
“Why’s he here?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. He didn’t speak to me after he moved out. Then he heard through some mutual friends I was moving to Quincy and he had concerns. He might claim to be here about our house, but the ball’s in his court. And our realtor knows the best way to reach me is email.”
“What were his concerns?”
“Skyler is used to getting what he wants. I think he expected me to pine after him. Maybe he thought I’d forgive him. Maybe beg for him to come back. Hell if I know. He probably doesn’t like the fact that I won’t give him any more of my time. He had eight years. And I won’t beg any man.”
That wasn’t exactly true. She’d begged in the backseat of my truck when I’d had my finger on her clit and she’d wanted to come.
My cock twitched.
“Want to mess with him some?” I asked.
“What do you have in mind?”
I grinned. “Be right back.”
Skyler’s face whipped to mine when I opened the front door. He’d been on his phone again.
I jerked up my chin, passed him for the stairs and walked to my truck. Earlier today I’d stopped by the grocery store for a few things. Winslow had been on my mind when I’d passed the condoms, so I’d grabbed a box on a whim.
Or maybe a wish.
With the condoms in my hand, I shut the truck door and returned to the house.
Skyler spotted them instantly. His jaw clenched.
“Still here? Have a good night.” I shot him a smirk, then walked through the door and flipped the dead bolt.
Winn sat up straighter as I rejoined her on the couch, both of us listening.
Footsteps descended the porch stairs. Moments later, a truck’s engine started.
“That was entirely too satisfying.” She laughed. “Thanks.”
“Welcome.” This was the moment when I was clear to leave, but instead, I relaxed deeper into the couch, tossing an arm over the back.
Winn’s eyes landed on the box of condoms in my hand. “Can I ask you something?”
“If I said no, would you ask me anyway?”
“Yes.”
I chuckled. “Shoot.”
“You thought I was a tourist at Willie’s. Is that your thing? Tourists?”