Indigo Ridge (The Edens)

Was she talking to me?

Those deep blue eyes narrowed, though not in my direction.

The suit stood taller. “Hey.”

“Answer my question, Skyler.” Winn marched up the porch steps, arms still crossed. “What are you doing here?”

“I tried calling you.”

“Me not answering should have been the first clue I didn’t want to talk to you.”

Or was it because she’d lost her phone? I kept my mouth shut, watching as this guy withered under her stare.

Winn had the death glare perfected. It was sexy as hell to see such a fierce woman, especially knowing she could throw it all away and let her guard down to flirt and laugh like she had at Willie’s. And beneath it all was another layer, the professional, sharp-witted woman who’d come to my home bearing her notepad and pen.

Complex. Confident. Compassionate. Each of Winslow Covington’s facets was attractive.

I fought a grin as she stood unmoving, waiting for the suit to speak.

“I was worried about you, Winnie.”

She patted the Glock holstered to her belt beside her gleaming badge. “Unnecessary.”

He glanced in my direction, his mouth flattening. Skyler had been glaring at me since the moment I’d parked on the street and walked to Winn’s porch.

Before I could knock on the door or ask who he was, he’d informed me that she wasn’t here. He’d probably thought I’d leave. Why hadn’t I left? Maybe because I’d instantly disliked this guy and the arrogance wafting off his tailored jacket.

“Who is this guy?” he asked, jerking his thumb at me.

She ignored his question. “How did you find my address?”

He looked to me again, inching closer to her. “Can we talk in private? It’s about the house.”

“What about the house? I told you ten times, I don’t want it. If you do, then you can buy me out. Otherwise, quit stalling and put it on the market.”

“Winnie.”

“Skyler.” She uncrossed her arms and flicked a wrist like he was a fly that she was brushing away. Then she turned to me, and for a moment, I expected that same glare and dismissal. But then her expression lightened so suddenly it made me blink twice.

Gone was the glare. Gone was the set jaw and furrowed brow. A stunning smile transformed her face, showcasing her beauty, and damn it, I wanted to kiss her again.

“Hey, babe.”

Babe? Before I could make sense of that, she closed the gap between us, stood on her toes and pressed her lips to the corner of my mouth.

When she dropped to her heels, she shifted, giving Skyler her back. Her eyes widened and she mouthed, “Please.”

Pretend to be the boyfriend.

Fine by me as long as she knew I wouldn’t ever be the boyfriend.

“Hi, baby.”

“How was your day?”

I bent down, unable to help myself, and brushed my lips against hers. “Better now.”

And damn it, that wasn’t a lie. Every time I saw her, she was more beautiful.

“Are you staying tonight?” she asked.

“Was planning on it.”

“Good.” She stepped past me and inserted her key into the lock. Without a glance at Skyler, she disappeared inside the house.

“Winnie,” he called.

She was already gone.

I chuckled and followed her into the house, closing the door behind me. After navigating a maze of boxes, I found Winn in the kitchen, standing against the counter, silently fuming.

“Friend of yours?”

“My ex.”

“Ah. Now the fake-boyfriend play makes sense.”

“Thanks for going along with it.”

“Welcome.” I leaned against the wall.

“Wait.” She gave me a wary glance. “Why did you go along with it?”

I shrugged. “He irritated me.”

“He irritates me too,” she muttered.

“Want me to hang out until he disappears?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“There something I should know?” Because if that bastard was harassing her, I’d march outside and make sure he understood the rules had just changed.

“No.” She shook her head. “He’s harmless unless you count him being a royal pain in my ass.”

“What’s the story there?”

She shrugged. “We were together for eight years. Engaged for six. We called it off four months ago and he moved out of our house. Which he refuses to sell.”

Eight years was a long damn relationship. Six years was one hell of an engagement. Why hadn’t they gotten married? “Is that why you moved here? Your breakup?”

“Part of the reason. It was time for a change. When Pops mentioned that the former chief was retiring, I decided to at least apply. I honestly didn’t think I’d be considered.”

“Even with Covie as the mayor?”

“Pops loves me, but he loves this town too. He wouldn’t put someone in the chief’s position who wasn’t capable of doing the job. And I am capable, Griffin.”

The more I learned about her, the more I suspected she was. “I heard you went to visit Melina Green yesterday.”

“How’d you know that?”

“Conor. He went to see her. Apparently he just missed you.”

“That was nice of him.”

“That was nice of you.”

She dropped her gaze to the floor. “The least I can do is show her that she’s not alone.”

That act, in and of itself, set her apart from the former chief. He’d always kept his distance from the community. Maybe it had been intentional. It had to be difficult to bust friends or family members. It was likely easier to remain apart than punish a buddy for breaking the law.

Or maybe he was just a cold bastard. That was Dad’s impression.

Winslow was anything but cold.

I studied her as she stood there, the silence of the house growing louder. There was a weight on her shoulders. An exhaustion in her eyes.

“Hell of a week, huh?”

“That’s one way to put it.” She looked to a box set on the counter, then trudged over, opening the top with a sigh. “As you can see, unpacking hasn’t been a priority.”

She’d put her life on hold to ask questions about Lily Green and visit a grieving mother. “This is a nice place. Good neighborhood too. One of my buddies in high school lived in the green house three down.”

“Is that how you knew where I lived?”

“No, I asked my mom. One of her best friends was your realtor.”

“So much for privacy,” she muttered.

“Small town. Privacy is relative.”

“I guess that’s true.” She pulled a glass from the box and put it directly into the dishwasher.

“Want some help?”

“No, but thanks.” She finished with the glasses, and because it wasn’t in my nature to stand around when there was work to be done, I collected the empty box from her and folded up the packing paper, then broke down the box.

“Where do you want this?”

“There’s a stack of empties outside my bedroom down the hallway.”

“Got it.” I strode that way, taking the box and paper along.

My boots seemed twice as loud as normal on her hardwood floors. There were two rooms down the narrow hall. On the right was her bedroom. The mattress rested on the floor, the blankets unmade. Three suitcases were pushed against the far wall, open and overflowing.

Winslow seemed so put together. Did it bother her living in a mess? Because it sure as hell would have bothered me.

Opposite her room was another crammed with boxes. I added mine to the short stack of flattened cardboard, then returned to the kitchen.

The dishwasher was running. Winn had retreated to the living room. Beside her, on the center cushion of the leather couch, was the purse she’d carried in earlier and a stack of files.

The couch was the only piece of furniture in the room, maybe in the whole house. It sat at an odd angle beneath the center light fixture. Beside it was an unopened box that Winn had shoved beside an armrest to use as a makeshift end table.

Had her ex taken the other furniture? Was it still being moved? I was about to ask when a manila file folder caught my eye from beneath her purse. Walking closer, I read the name on the tab.

Harmony Hardt.

The girl I’d found at the base of Indigo Ridge.

There were likely photos in that folder. Photos of the images forever burned into my brain. The dark hair matted with blood. The limbs askew. The blood. The death.

“You’re looking into the suicides,” I said.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to.”

“They’re suicides, Winn.”

She stayed quiet, not agreeing or disagreeing.

“It’s sad,” I said. “Horrific. I get why you want to find a different explanation. Most outsiders do.”

“You know, you keep reminding me that I’m new in town. But I’m not all that new. I’ve spent a lot of time here, especially when I was a kid. This was my father’s hometown.”

“There’s a difference between visiting Quincy and living in Quincy.”

“Well, I live here now.”

“Yes, you do.” And that made this insatiable attraction to her exponentially more complicated.

Winn rose up and leaned over the back of the couch, peering toward the window that overlooked the porch. The ex was still there, his face glued to his phone and his fingers flying over its screen.

“He’s still here,” she grumbled with an eye roll. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

I plucked her phone from the back pocket of my jeans. “This was at my place.”

“Damn.” She stood and crossed the room, taking it from my hand. Then she tossed it in the general direction of her purse, like she didn’t care if it vanished again. “It must have fallen out of my pocket. I’m a bit scattered right now, but I would have tracked it down eventually.”

“You don’t need it?”

“Not really. It’s my personal cell, the one Skyler’s been calling.” She went to the couch, plopping down in the same seat. “You’re welcome to sit down. But if you need to go, it’s fine.”

The only thing waiting for me at home was a stack of bills to pay. This woman was far more entertaining than hours spent in my office, so I took the seat beside her, leaving enough space to keep my dick from getting any ideas.

“So what was the reason you called it off? Your engagement?” It was none of my business, but I was asking anyway. Maybe if I understood her better, I’d get her off my mind. That, and go a few years without kissing her.

Days later and the temptation of her lips was as powerful as ever.

She was as captivating as she was dangerous.

“He’s not the man I thought he was,” she said.

The asshole had probably been fucking someone else. Idiot. “Sorry.”

“It’s better now than if we’d actually gotten married.”

“True.”

Like Skyler knew we were talking about him, the doorbell rang.

Winslow’s nostrils flared. “He’s stubborn.”

“Why’s he here?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. He didn’t speak to me after he moved out. Then he heard through some mutual friends I was moving to Quincy and he had concerns. He might claim to be here about our house, but the ball’s in his court. And our realtor knows the best way to reach me is email.”

“What were his concerns?”

“Skyler is used to getting what he wants. I think he expected me to pine after him. Maybe he thought I’d forgive him. Maybe beg for him to come back. Hell if I know. He probably doesn’t like the fact that I won’t give him any more of my time. He had eight years. And I won’t beg any man.”

That wasn’t exactly true. She’d begged in the backseat of my truck when I’d had my finger on her clit and she’d wanted to come.

My cock twitched.

“Want to mess with him some?” I asked.

“What do you have in mind?”

I grinned. “Be right back.”

Skyler’s face whipped to mine when I opened the front door. He’d been on his phone again.

I jerked up my chin, passed him for the stairs and walked to my truck. Earlier today I’d stopped by the grocery store for a few things. Winslow had been on my mind when I’d passed the condoms, so I’d grabbed a box on a whim.

Or maybe a wish.

With the condoms in my hand, I shut the truck door and returned to the house.

Skyler spotted them instantly. His jaw clenched.

“Still here? Have a good night.” I shot him a smirk, then walked through the door and flipped the dead bolt.

Winn sat up straighter as I rejoined her on the couch, both of us listening.

Footsteps descended the porch stairs. Moments later, a truck’s engine started.

“That was entirely too satisfying.” She laughed. “Thanks.”

“Welcome.” This was the moment when I was clear to leave, but instead, I relaxed deeper into the couch, tossing an arm over the back.

Winn’s eyes landed on the box of condoms in my hand. “Can I ask you something?”

“If I said no, would you ask me anyway?”

“Yes.”

I chuckled. “Shoot.”

“You thought I was a tourist at Willie’s. Is that your thing? Tourists?”

“My thing is beautiful women. But yeah, it’s less complicated if they don’t live here. Fewer expectations.”

She hummed. “Why’d you kiss me at your house?”

“Why’d you kiss me back?”

The corner of her mouth turned up. “Who are the condoms for?”

“You.” There was no point in lying. She was stuck in my head.

Winslow was a woman apart. In beauty. In brains. In sex appeal.

Her confidence was as alluring as those freckles across her nose.

In one graceful move, she lifted and closed the gap between us. Her leg swung over my lap, her knees settling outside my thighs. Her hands, dainty but powerful, slid up the smooth cotton of my charcoal T-shirt. Then she pressed her center into my swelling cock, rubbing her core against my belt buckle.

“Give me your mouth,” I ordered.

She bent, her lips grazing mine.

I clasped a hand around her head, holding her to me as I surged, my tongue sliding between her teeth.

Winn gasped, her hips banging into mine.

Any hope of me walking out of here before dark evaporated.