Colton's Lethal Reunion (Coltons of Mustang Valley)

“We were just sitting down to dinner,” she told the two in uniform. And then asked James, “Have you had something to eat?”

“I’ve got a cooler full out in the car,” he told her. “And a pee bottle, too.”

Rafe could have done without that piece of information.

But then the two were gone, leaving him and Kerry all alone in the watched cocoon that was her house. The awareness of what had just happened—the two of them acknowledging, in front of others, that they wanted to spend more time together that evening—simmered between them and they just stood there, on that small area of tile, looking at each other.

Kerry broke the eye contact first, heading back thro

ugh the dining area and kitchen to the food gone cold. She sat anyway, as though eating a cold dinner didn’t faze her at all.

“James might look like an easygoing nice guy,” she said, scooping up mashed potatoes and then meat on the same bite. “And he is nice. He’s perfectly compliant on any occasion that warrants it, but he’s as tough as they come when he perceives a wrongdoing. Or a threat to any townspeople.”

He nodded, not sure if she was reassuring him as to their safety, or warning him in regard to hers. Should he try to make a move on her.

Despite needing her to know that as much as he longed to grab his Kerry into his arms and never let her go, he had no intention of touching her. Not when even a chaste kiss in the past had been red-hot. So he sat. Forked cold food. And ate it.

* * *

While they ate, Rafe loosened his tie, talked about all the exotic foods he’d eaten, most of which he’d enjoyed. If he’d set out to remind Kerry of the vast differences between them, he needn’t have bothered. His being a Colton was something she was never, ever going to forget.

And while he did the dishes he insisted on taking care of, she went to the restroom. She’d been holding it for a while, and hadn’t wanted to go with him in the house. Seemed way too...personal, too intimate, for what she needed him to be. Everyone peed. She just didn’t want to go do it with him there.

“You should call the hospital, check on your father,” she told him as she came back down the hall and found him standing in the dining room, glancing at her wall. She’d deliberately used the parental designation rather than Payne’s name.

“I just did,” he told her. “No change.”

She wondered who he talked to... Ace? Another sibling? Payne’s third wife, Genevieve? The spouse was always the first suspect when someone was shot, but both Genevieve and Payne’s second wife, Selina Barnes Colton, had airtight alibis: security footage from the RRR during the time of the shooting. Genevieve in the mansion, Selina walking from her car to her smaller house on the property, carrying in bags of shopping from someplace farther than Mustang Valley, based on the bags’ logos.

Weird that Selina would have gone shopping while the rest of the family dealt with the shock of Ace Colton’s surprise heritage, the knowledge that the eldest heir had been switched at birth and subsequently been stripped of his position as CEO of Colton Oil...

Her mental switch to her current case was a coping mechanism, she knew. Recognized it. Anytime things started to rattle her emotional ground, she focused on a case. Made her great at her job. And still single at thirty-six.

“I made another call, too,” Rafe said, still facing the wall plastered with the last ten years of Tyler’s life. “To a government attorney who works with the Forest Service. I asked for a fast track on any warrant or request that may come through for Grant Alvin’s employment record, or for anything else pertaining to anyone working that mountain.”

To show her how powerful he was? To push his weight around?

He turned and her gaze hooked up with the depth of emotion in those so-familiar blue eyes of his. He’d called because he cared.

Because he was committed to helping her find out what had happened to Tyler. She got the message. He was going to help and then he’d be going back to his real life—the one where he could pick up the phone and call a US attorney after eight o’clock at night.

She made a note of that, too.

“I had no idea it was going to be so hard, seeing you again.” The longing in his words, barely above a whisper, shot through her with the force of a blast.

She couldn’t go down that road again. “It’s a little weird, yeah, but fine, too,” she said, arranging folders on the table.

“I used to watch you.” He’d put his hands in his pockets and was standing there not bothering to hide the glistening in his eyes. “After you’d get home from school, you’d get on Annabelle and ride out to our hill. Every day, when you’d disappear out of sight, I’d pretend I was out there with you...”

“Don’t, Rafe.” He’d watched her? It could be creepy. But it was Rafe. Needing her.

Just as she’d needed him.

Even in their separation they’d been together? The idea soothed her.

And nothing had changed.

“I’d sit up in my room and picture you out there with someone else. Someone who would love you as much as I did, and not leave you...”