Best Kept Secret (Rochester Trilogy 3)

Jane moves with me, seeking contact and pressure, and when she comes, her body squeezes mine in a tight grip. I surrender myself to it. My orgasm arrives like a wave on rock, cracking open. She kisses the line of my jaw while it happens. “Yes,” she whispers in my ear. “I can feel you.”

I can feel her. Every brave heartbeat. Every gentle touch. They’re all I’ve ever wanted from anyone, and they’re here in this one woman, this perfect person. She could have run away from me. She should have stayed in Houston. But she’s with me now. I roll off her, onto the sheets, and bring her with me.

“I’m staying,” she whispers.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Beau Rochester

Dinner happens late and in the kind of chaos that can only happen when you’ve eaten too much ice cream, which Paige has. She tears tiny pieces off her grilled cheese and dips them in ketchup, but she won’t eat most of it.

“I’m done,” she says finally.

“Okay,” Jane says. She picks up Paige’s plate and takes it over to the sink. I would do anything to take her back to bed. That’s where I plan to go the instant Paige is asleep.

The knock at the door is loud and persistent. Jane drops the plate into the sink. Ceramic meets the stainless steel and cracks. “It broke,” Jane says. She glances over her shoulder at me.

Another knock. This one louder. Like someone’s trying to break the damn door down. Marjorie’s out for the night. A book club—something like that. We’re on our own. Jane peers out the window over the kitchen sink. “I see lights out there.”

They’re everywhere in the yard. Red and blue.

Police.

We both react at the same time. Jane comes across the room to meet me. Paige scrambles down from her chair and flies to Jane’s side. “What’s going on?”

The three of us go through into the inn’s living area.

“Take her upstairs,” I tell Jane.

“No.” Paige plants her feet on the floor. I can hear the resistance in her tone. The way she’s absolutely not going to do this. I should have had Mateo stay here until everything was finished. “I’m not going upstairs.”

“It’s a good idea to go upstairs,” Jane coaxes. But we both know what it means if the police come to the door.

“Police,” says a voice from the outside, and my stomach sinks. The last hope that it was someone, anyone, other than Joe—it’s gone now. Joe’s outside the door. I make a split-second decision. I can’t let Paige watch him break down the door, which he’ll do if he doesn’t get his way. She’ll never feel safe in the house again. I’ll have to stop him myself.

So I open it. “Not tonight. If you want an interview—”

He shoves me out of the way and stalks through to the living room. I go with him, trying to keep myself between him and everything that matters to me in the world. Joe’s eyes are wild. Bright.

“I have a warrant.” He pushes the paper into my face, too fast for me to read any of it. Adrenaline bursts across my vision in reds and blacks. I put both hands on him and push him back. He looks down at my hands on his shirt. A sneer curls the corner of his mouth.

“Go back out. This isn’t the way to do this.”

“I said I have a warrant, Rochester.” The lights of his cruiser flash outside, but no other cops come in behind him. I don’t like this brightness in his eyes. I don’t like his uneven breathing. He’s snapped. He’s come here to finish all this, and he doesn’t care if it’s by the book. The warrant is only a cover for what he’s planning to do. “I’m taking you both. This stupid fucking game is over. You’re both done.”

I back him up another few steps, but he resists. I’m going to take him all the way outside. Drag him into the ocean and drown him. Whatever it takes.

“Beau. Stop.” Jane wraps both her hands around my arms. “Get away from him. Listen to me. You can’t touch him. You have to let go of him.”

“You stay away from her.” I won’t back down from Joe Causey. Not now. “You don’t touch her. You shouldn’t be here, Causey.”

“This is exactly where I should be. You thought you could get away with this. You can’t, Rochester. It’s over.”

“Beau. Please. Don’t touch him anymore. Don’t.” Her voice shakes. “He could hurt you,” she says, pitching her voice low, and it finally dawns on me what she’s so afraid of. Joe came in here with his weapons. He could shoot me now and say I was resisting arrest. He could say anything, and the department might believe him, investigation be damned. And if I die in front of Jane and Paige, it won’t matter if they find him guilty. I’ll be dead.