Colton's Secret Investigation. Justine Davis
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she suggested, and he nodded. “I’ll mark the spot where we left off.”
“Maybe back it up to a half hour ago,” he said wryly. “I think that’s when my brain checked out.”
“Done,” Daria replied. She shut down the laptop; it was technically sheriff’s department property, so she’d take it with her. As they left the den, she glanced toward the hallway. “You’ll work it out with him, Stefan,” she said quietly. “Give it time.”
“Time? Took you less then half an hour to get more out of him than I have since he got here.”
“I have more practice,” she said with a smile.
He walked her out to her car, and she guessed from the way her breath made vapor that it was at or below freezing.
“Welcome to November,” she muttered. “Why aren’t you shivering?” He’d come outside in just his long-sleeved shirt, whereas she had on her jacket and was still cold.
“This is nothing. Add a little northeast wind off the lake for some lake-effect snow, and you’d have a mild Chicago winter,” he said.
“Humph. I’m from California. I’ll never get totally used to this.”
“There are ways to stay warm.”
She was sure he didn’t mean that as a double entendre, so she quashed her instinctive reaction. And he looked as if he regretted saying it anyway, so she turned back to what she knew was his biggest concern.
“Look, I know with work, and especially right now, it’s impossible, but Sam’s going to need kids to play with. Not to be critical, but Mrs. Crane doesn’t seem the type to bend and get down on his level.”
“No, she’s not,” he admitted. “But she was the only one available on such short notice.” He grimaced. “Leah called me on a Friday and said he’d be flying in on Sunday.”
Daria blinked. “Two days’ notice?” He nodded. And her already low opinion of his ex dropped another notch. “I won’t ask why on earth you got married in the first place, but…”
“She thought the job was glamorous, I guess. Exciting. Didn’t realize it’s mostly grunt work. And I…” He frowned. “Let’s just say she’s gorgeous. And can be quite charming, when it suits her purposes. We eloped after three weeks.”
Daria managed not to comment on that. Instead she asked, “Do you have legal custody now?”
He sighed. “No. She just sent him.”
Her mouth curled. “I’d want to make it all legal so she can’t yank him back if she changes her mind. I can’t imagine anything worse for a five-year-old than being tugged in two like that.”
“I would, if I was at all sure this was going to work.”
At first she winced inwardly. Would he really send the boy back under these circumstances? But he sounded so exhausted she thought she understood; it was all just too much right now.
“Why don’t I call my friend Fiona? She lives less than a mile from here. You could set up a playdate with her boys, see how they all get along. And if it works, make it a regular thing.”
Stefan stared at her. “I…you’d do that?”
She gave him a puzzled look. “Of course I would. And Fiona is always looking for kids for her boys to hang out with. She’s also big on them playing outside whenever they can. They’ve got a huge backyard with a sandpit and an amazing play set her husband built, with ladders and a slide and a fort up top, and all kinds of things for the boys to wear themselves out on.”
“Sounds like five-year-old heaven.”
“It is,” she said with a laugh. “It’s a built-in babysitter and gets them away from screens. She never leaves them alone, mind you, but she can be out there and read or garden or do other things at the same time. Until winter—then she’s out there building snow things with them. She and the boys made a dragon once that was amazing. Shall I call her?”
“Please,” he said.
“First thing tomorrow,” she promised.
“Thank you,” he said, with such relief in his voice it made her smile up at him. And in the next instant, before she even realized what was happening, his arms came around her in a fierce hug.
It was a thank-you, she told herself. That’s all. Just thank you for help with a situation he was having trouble with. But repeating it didn’t help much when her heart was hammering and her skin sizzled at the contact with that broad, strong chest. And there she was, the woman who had been cold enough to shiver mere moments ago, suddenly overheating as if it were midday LA in the summer. All because this man had hugged her? She must be—
Her self-accusatory thoughts broke off suddenly as something else registered.
Hers wasn’t the only heart that had suddenly started racing.
Uh-oh.
Stefan heard the warning in his head quite clearly. Crazily, his first thought was a memory from so long ago he couldn’t be sure exactly when it was, except that he’d been a kid, at his grandparents’ home, working on one of the endless jigsaw puzzles that were his grandmother’s passion. He’d always figured the urge to put the pieces of a crime together had come from her, since often it was the same sort of puzzle, with a ton of tiny pieces that all had to fit together.
It wasn’t any of his grandmother’s puzzles he was remembering now, however. It was the burst of satisfaction when a piece he’d tried fit. When it turned out to be right. When it slid into place perfectly.
Daria Bloom in his arms felt that way.
And that scared the hell out of him.
So why wasn’t he letting go? Why wasn’t he backing off? Why was he still standing here, holding her tight against him, letting his body wake up in a way he hadn’t felt since…he couldn’t remember when?
Because it feels good. Too damned good.
With more effort than it ever should have taken, he released her and stepped back.
“Drive carefully,” he said, as if that hug had never gotten out of hand. As if he hadn’t been standing there savoring the scent of her, the feel of her luscious curves against him. As if he hadn’t barely been able to resist the urge to tilt her head back and claim those lips with his own.
For a moment she just stood there, looking a little stunned.
“I…will,” she said, sounding like someone who had momentarily forgotten how to speak.
He watched her drive off. Reminded himself that she was tough, smart, careful and highly trained, so there was no reason for him to feel like he should be seeing her home. Not that he had any choice in the matter. Not with Samuel—Sam—asleep inside.
He realized he was standing out here in near-freezing air, staring after a car that was long out of sight. He went back in the house and made his way down the hall, careful to walk quietly. He peeked in the door of his son’s room. Or, rather, the guest room his son was using.
Guest room. And the truth of what Daria had said swept over him. Samuel felt like a guest—in other words, temporary. And that was his fault, for not thinking about this from the boy’s point of view.
Stefan eased the door open and went into the room. The light from the hallway cast just enough light to see his way to the bed. He sat down on the edge and looked at the child curled up there. Realized the truth of what Daria had said—he looked tiny and helpless in the big expanse of the king-size bed he’d bought on the chance that someday his folks might come to visit.