Sierra Falls (Sierra Falls 1)

He’d rather she marinate it for a good ten hours—there were other things he was much hungrier for than dinner—but instead he said, “That suits me just fine. ”

Once she finished her prep work, he let her take the lead and followed her into the living room. She stopped and spun, and he nearly walked into her. It put them standing close enough that he could feel the heat of her body pressing along the length of his.

“I didn’t even call before I came,” she said. “I’m totally interrupting your evening. ”

The normally self-possessed Sorrow sounded nervous, and it ignited an urge deep inside, to protect her, to put her at her ease, to let her know she’d be his.

He told her, “You’re making my evening, not interrupting it. ”

“Did you already have plans?”

He couldn’t fight it any longer—he put his hands on her shoulders. “I did. Grand plans. I was going to spend the next several hours poking at that fire. Care to join me?”

A broad smile spread across her face. Her eyes were so bright when she smiled. It was all he could do to not cup her face and kiss her. But he’d take this slow. She’d showed up with food, not propositions. Not yet.

He turned his attention to the fire, stoking it to life. He sensed her wandering toward the couch to study his stuff. Her presence was heavy in the room, and he felt her every pause, her every move at his back.

He mentally cataloged his d?

?cor. What would she make of it all? And his photos of Keri—what would she think about those? It wasn’t as though the walls were blanketed with them, but they were here and there. Tacked over his desk, a black and white photobooth strip, shots of them making silly faces. There was a framed photo in the hallway, too, Keri’s formal headshot from the DA’s office. He felt Sorrow stop to study it.

“Your wife was beautiful,” she said. “Very elegant. ”

“She was. ” He stood, wiping newsprint and ash from his hands. For the first time, thoughts of Keri weren’t cold and sharp with grief, but had mellowed into something warmer and wiser, a melancholy. He’d loved his wife, more than anything. Her memory would forever be a gift in his heart, him all the richer for having had her for even a short time. He thought of Keri, of her foibles—the ones he’d loved, and the ones that’d annoyed him, too—and he smiled to recall the lot of them. “She was a city girl, born and raised. ”

“City girls must be pretty appealing. ”

He heard the subtext there—he’d need to tread carefully. “My wife was something else. But women from the city are just like women anywhere else…some are appealing, some not. ”

He walked across the room to stand at Sorrow’s back. He studied Keri’s photo, seeing it anew. Her severe black bob. Those dark eyes that once crackled with energy. She’d narrow those eyes during cross-examinations to go in for the kill, and witnesses never knew what hit them.

She’d been hard where Sorrow was soft, a razor-edged wit to Sorrow’s bemused insightfulness.

“Do you miss the city?” Sorrow asked.

He didn’t even have to think about that one. “Honestly, no, I don’t miss it one little bit. ”

Sorrow was silent, so silent he wondered if she held her breath. He sensed she wanted to hear more, needed more.

It was time to dredge his memories, to let this woman in. He took a deep breath. “In some ways, it’s the city that took her from me. She was in a…an accident. ” He cleared his throat, gathering his emotions. He owed it to Keri to tell her story. “I had no idea it’d happened. It took them a while to ID her. To track me down. And the thing of it was, I’d heard them talking about it over the scanner. Bus versus bike. One fatality. ”

“I’m so sorry,” was all Sorrow said. There was nothing else to say, and she knew it.

His focus shifted, from the image of his wife to Sorrow’s reflection in the glass. Her expression was drawn, pained. Sorrow was feeling his grief, opening her heart to him. She might’ve been different from Keri, but she was no less extraordinary.

Billy wanted to open his heart in return, but he also wanted to put her at ease, so he shifted back to the original question. “I always liked the country more than she did. We used to argue about it, over where to spend our vacations. ” He shook his head, remembering. “Keri’s idea of camping was staying at anything more downscale than the Marriott. ”

“She’d have loved the lodge,” Sorrow said in a flat, deadpan tone.

“Sorrow,” Billy whispered, chiding her. He put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her to face him. “I love the lodge. ”

Standing this close he saw the flecks of gold in her eyes. Her lashes were thick and brown. He imagined them fluttering closed during a kiss. His gaze shifted to her mouth. Her lips were parted, surprised at his touch.

The sight brought with it a revelation. He was alive again, and it was time to seize back his life. And that meant he would kiss Sorrow. Tonight.

Which meant he needed to steer her from these somber topics. “Come sit by the fire,” he said, his voice hoarse.

She nodded, but the look she gave him was sad. Instead of sitting down, she wandered in front of the fireplace. Amber firelight cast dancing shadows on her face.