Colton's Killer Pursuit

It was a solid theory. Something he could hang his hat on. Clarke took the stairs two at a time, slowing at the top only long enough to see that Everleigh’s light was still on.

With his hand down low on the door, he rapped with the knuckles. He didn’t want to startle her. Or command entrance, either.

“Yeah?” she called.

“You decent? I just got some information you might want to hear...” He had hope to offer her and knew how badly she needed some.

The lock on her door sounded—surprising him. She’d felt a need to enforce her privacy?

He took a step back.

The door opened.

And there she stood, looking like a dream he’d always wanted to have, blond hair tousled, ample breasts unfettered, and the rest of her pretty much a long, lean straight line, curves hidden within a pair of flannel pajamas.

Mouth open, he’d forgotten what he’d come to tell her.

* * *

She’d opened her door with one thought in mind...finding out what he knew. And in doing so opened a window to a whole new world. One where she was a free woman, not in prison, certainly, but not tied to anyone for anything.

And he was...just the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen up close.

A world where she was in her pajamas, bra off, getting ready for bed, and they were alone together in his home for the night.

Her boyfriend, as far as all of her friends and family thought. Already approved and accepted.

She could see in the window. Could feel herself in there.

Could feel a bubble encompassing them.

Wanted to just let it happen.

And said, “What did you find out?”

Her body parts were aching for him, though. And a quick glance down—she’d been a married woman for a lot of years—showed her that at least one of his body parts was reactive, as well.

“Fritz was involved with a woman named Brenda Nolton. You know her?”

She shook her head. You’d think hearing about her husband screwing around on her, having a name put to a phantom person she’d known about, but he’d never admit to her face, would be like a cold shower in her bubble moment.

To the contrary. Her composure only made her want to get hot and bothered even more.

“She’s from Grave Gulch,” he said, as though knowing where the woman lived would somehow make Everleigh remember her. His gaze had locked onto hers and she couldn’t make herself look away.

“I’ve never heard of her.” Didn’t want to know how Fritz had met her. When he’d seen her. How often. She just didn’t care anymore. That life was gone. She just wanted to find out if Brenda was the one after her. She’d moved so far beyond Fritz Emerson that she was beginning to wonder how she’d stayed married to him for so long.

And to wonder if Clarke would kiss her again.

Would she kiss him back if he did?

And that was it? He’d come to tell her the name of... Wait...

“Is she the one who’s after me?” she asked. “You think she broke into my house?”

He didn’t so much shake his head as just duck it to the side a little. He didn’t look away from her, either. If eyes could draw a soul out of a person, his might be doing it to her. She wasn’t letting it go. But she wasn’t stopping him from trying, either...

And then he blinked. And said, “I don’t know yet, but she’s at the top of my list. She’s got a record for fraud,” he said, going on to share his speculation about Brenda and Fritz. It made sense. Good sense.