He rubbed his dog from head to tail. “I know, bud. Things have been chaotic. Dorothy will be back with us soon, and you two can cuddle all you’d like.”
The dog settled at the bottom of the bed, still looking distraught.
Under the covers, Beckett tucked me up against him and kissed me. It held the same fierceness as the kisses last night, the same promises I’d felt embedding themselves deep inside me, and yet it was also incredibly tender. A kiss goodnight rather than a kiss that led to more.
Longing flared to life, pricking at the shell I’d forced around me. This was what I needed even more than the numbness. I needed his touch. Not only to feel alive and loved but to chase away the worry and fears and guilt that were clinging to me from this awful day. I craved a few minutes of bliss to hide the pain.
I slid my hands and mouth along his neck and his chest before trailing hungry, frantic kisses lower, tugging at the waistband of his boxer briefs.
He stopped me, dragging my mouth back to his and kissing me tenderly. “Maisey—”
“I need you to make love to me, Beckett. I need toforget everything but your touch for at least a few moments. Remind me I’m yours. That this is real. That our fake relationship isn’t fake at all.”
His Adam’s apple worked overtime, and unshed tears welled, but he did just what I’d begged. He made love to me. It wasn’t with the insatiable hunger of last night. Instead, it remained slow and sensual. Each stroke, each touch, each kiss was another vow. An oath he was uttering to me in the silence.
I hated that as we moved together, as he filled me up body and soul, my mind went to just what this might cost us. Hated that whoever had come for us had me wondering if Beckett had been right all along, and all relationships were doomed.
When we’d both reached the top and come down the other side, tears were running down my face. Beckett caught each one, gently wiping them away.
“Don’t cry, my Maisey-girl. When you do, it guts me.”
“I’m happy, Beckett. This time with you makes me so happy.” While it was true, I could already feel the emptiness swirling back in. “But I’m also sad and terrified.”
He kissed me on the forehead. “I know, darlin’. I know. But right now, you’re here, safe. Your Dad is safe. All the people you love have others watching over them. So try to get some sleep. Everything will seem better in the morning.”
But it didn’t.
I woke with the same hollow heaviness hanging on me.
Dad was still in a coma. No one had caught the attacker. We had no answers or solutions or end in sight.
Instead of looking forward to a day I’d always enjoyed—a day that had always brought happiness to me and our town—I felt the weight of the world pressing down. It tagged along with us as Beckett and I drove to the ranch with a sheriff’s deputy following close behind.
Fallon and her family had done their best to turn the often-questioned holiday of the Fourth of July into a true community celebration. Each year, they hosted the festivities at the ranch, starting with a trick-riding show that drew in the crowds before everyone wandered through the craft, food, and game booths. Throughout the afternoon, friendly teams faced off in sports and riding challenges, and when evening fell, the family capped it all off with a classic summer barbecue—free for the hotel’s guests and the entire town.
It was typically a joyful day for the residents of Swift Rivers.
I was determined to shake off the heaviness holding me down and concentrate on the goodness the day brought rather than the person waitingsomewhere in the shadows.
I’d barely finished braiding Titan’s mane and putting on his trick saddle with Beckett’s help when Sheriff Wylee strode into the barn. He looked ragged, like he hadn’t slept at all, and more guilt zeroed in on me. The man was over seventy and running himself into the ground trying to solve my problems. Even though it was his job, I still despised that my troubles were the reason for it.
After greeting Beckett and me, the sheriff handed me my phone. It was a relief to have it back. I pocketed it, and Beckett grabbed my hand, tugging me into his body, as if just touching could soothe us both.
“According to the tech guys, it didn’t have any spyware or tracking apps. The number that called you was the same one that texted your dad. We’ve traced it, as well as the phone left at the watchtower, to a batch of burners bought from a box store in LA. Judge Farling has already issued a warrant, and I’ve asked Coop to swing by the store this morning and grab the surveillance videos and purchase records on our behalf before he heads here tonight.”
“Cooper’s coming?” Beckett asked, and Wylee nodded.
“Told him I needed all the hands I could get.”
Hope flared. Wylee’s son was a detective with the LAPD. He hadn’t lived in Rivers since he’d graduated from high school, but he visited often enough that everyone in town still knew him. He’d become something of a hometown hero over a decade ago after he’d saved a movie star from a stalker, and the media had become obsessed with the relationship that had bloomed in the aftermath. Maybe his experience with situations like this might give him some insight into what was going on here. Maybe he could give new ideas to his father and Josh.
“You got any more leads?” Beckett demanded, and I could practically feel his irritation through our connected bodies. “Or are we pinning our hopes on a box store’s security cam?”
The sheriff ignored Beckett’s sarcasm. “If you’d told me about Carter pushing his development sooner, I would have looked harder at him. Instead, I’ve been playing catch-up.”
“I didn’t think anything about Carter’s offer. It didn’t raise any red flags because Dad and I have had multiple offers over the years, just like I’m sure Lewis has.”
“Well, I went by his place this morning, and he insists he was with Delilah the night Maisey was attacked in your driveway. He said he’d give me the receipts for the restaurant in Visalia where they had dinner. I’ll pull video footage to confirm it, but he also wasn’t in town yesterday. He was in Tulare, scoping out alternative building sites for his development,seeing as you and Lewis refuse to sell. I’m working on a warrant for his phone. If we can confirm it pinged off the towers near Tulare, we’ll be able to confirm his story.”