Mountain Darkness (Wild Mountain Men 1)
“Worked out your issues with those men of yours? By the dark circles under your eyes, I’d say all night.”
My mouth fell open. “Dolly!”
“Well?”
I leaned in and whispered, “You knew about… both of them?”
“They used to watch you all the time.”
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
She sputtered, shook her head. “They didn’t come in for my coffee. They came here for you. All the time,” she repeated. “Whose section did they always request?”
I thought back. They used to come in frequently. And sit in my section. I’d thought, well, I hadn’t thought. I’d assumed it was one-sided.
“But… it’s Nix and Donovan.” I blushed, thinking about them. Smart, handsome, ridiculously virile. I’d been… so unlike myself with both of them. Together. I wasn’t a prude or anything and wasn’t ashamed about wanting sex, but two men was definitely pushing my sexual boundaries. “I mean, two men. One’s the detective on Erin’s murder and the other will prosecute the case.”
She pursed her lips. “That’s definitely a hot mess, but you’re innocent, so why not be with them?”
“They could have anyone. I mean, you’ve seen them.”
She fanned herself. “They aren’t hard on the eyes, that’s for sure. If I were thirty years younger. Why wouldn’t two men be interested in you?”
I glanced down at the box of sugar packets, then reached in and grabbed a handful, set them on the counter. Without looking up, I stuffed them—neatly—into the containers. “I’m nothing special.”
“Kittredge Lancaster, what happens when you talk about yourself like that?” she scolded in the mothering tone I’d known for a decade, and used frequently enough.
“I have to clean out the grease trap,” I replied sullenly. I felt fifteen again dealing with catty high school girls who made me feel less than important.
“And wouldn’t your time be better spent working the dinner shift?”
I whipped my head about to meet her shrewd gaze. “Really?”
“Really,” she countered, and I hugged her something fierce.
9
NIX
“Kit.”
She spun around when I called her name. The back door of the diner slammed shut behind her, making her jump. The parking lot lights cast her face in sharp contrast, but I couldn’t miss the panic in her eyes.
When I realized I was in shadow and she couldn’t see me, I stepped forward.
She stumbled backwards, then froze when she recognized me.
“Nix,” she replied, on a breathy exhale, her hand going to her chest. Her purse fell off her shoulder and she shoved it back up.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” I said, stepping close, realizing I’d scared her.
She whacked me on the chest. “Don’t do that!”
Her body shook and I grabbed her into a hug. She was all soft and warm, and she was all but vibrating with adrenaline.
“What kind of policeman are you, scaring the crap out of people?”
“Why are you out here by yourself?”