I forced myself to move, one foot in front of the other until I reached my destination. The refrigerator. My mother taught me many things growing up. Being a good hostess was at the top of the list. Crime fighter I was not, but I could whip up a heck of a spread. That was how Duncan found me a short while later, arranging vegetables, cheeses, crackers, and dips. Leaning halfway across the counter, he snatched a square of cheddar and popped it in his mouth.
“Hey, Sunshine.”
“Hey, yourself. Any luck?”
“No.” He exhaled heavily. “Whoever it was, they were long gone. I’m going to check in with Waverly, see if they’ve found anything on the cameras.”
“Mkay.”
“You know you don’t have to feed them, right?”
“It’s just a charcuterie board.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Charcuterie. It’s French. Basically, an assortment of finger foods on a fancy cutting board.”
Duncan strolled around the counter, coming to stand at my side. When he reached for more cheese, I plucked it from between his fingers, placed it on a cracker with a smear of fig jam, dipped the edge in balsamic, then held it up for him to taste. The groan that left his mouth when he devoured the treat in one bite was hot, much too hot to be considered polite, given we were in a room full of people. None of them were paying us any attention, otherwise they would’ve seen my thigh-clenching squirm. I wasn’t so lucky with Duncan. He grinned at my obvious discomfort, but thankfully, let me off the hook.
“Koen’s like a stray dog. If you give him food, he’ll keep coming back.”
I cleared my throat. “I like them.”
“That’s good”––his lips pressed to my temple––“because they’re part of our family.”
He walked away, checking on the twins before joining his team around the table. The six agents worked as one, sorting through whatever evidence they may have collected. No one fought for control or tried to dominate the conversation. It was plain to see they shared a connection, a bond between them that surpassed DNA. But the reason for our impromptu gathering left me with questions I wasn’t sure I should ask. Like what if Duncan’s suspicions were true about the accident? It meant someone went to great lengths to tear us apart and keep us that way. Would they try again since we were back together? Were the kids and I in danger? Was Duncan?
It was times like these when I wished I had someoneclose to talk to. Finn was my best friend, but as my brother, he wasn’t exactly objective when it came to me or my personal life. Neither were Joel or Noreen. The three of them were the extent of my inner circle. Growing up, I blamed my shortage of playmates on the amount of traveling I did between the U.S. and Ireland. Maintaining a relationship was difficult to do when you were constantly having to say goodbye. Graduating high school two years early didn’t help with my efforts either, nor did being a brainiac. My nose was always stuck in a book. If it hadn’t been for my pushy college roommate, who insisted on dragging me to a couple parties on campus, I probably never would’ve left my room. Once I went to work for Finn, the cycle continued. Travel, work, sleep, rinse and repeat. The only thing I made time for was hiking.
Then I met Duncan and he opened my eyes to everything I was missing. Our relationship flowed effortlessly, even as it progressed at the speed of sound. Three months was a relatively short period of time, but it was long enough to know there would never be another man for me. I was his Sunshine, but he brightened my world.
“How are you doing with everything?” Waverly asked. I’d been so lost in my head, I didn’t notice her approach. “The truth, Sloane, not what you think I want to hear.”
“I’m all over the place.”
She nodded in understanding, then looped her arm through mine. “Come with me for a minute.”
“The kids––”
“Are surrounded by five highly trained, heavily armed federal agents, one of which is their father. They couldn’t be safer.”
She didn’t give me another opportunity to argue. Waverly led me straight out the side door, not stopping untilwe reached the corner of the yard where the kids saw the person in the woods. Goosebumps covered my arms, despite the heat of the afternoon sun blaring down on us. Seeing how close they were to being taken or hurt was terrifying.
“Two cameras are on the roof, angled to cover the whole yard.” She pointed them out. “The other two are hidden on the corner posts outside the fence. Those are motion-activated to start the second they detect movement in the trees. Given what happened, we’ll change the settings so they are constantly recording. We’ll also be adding more security features. Duncan already put in a call to a group we’ve worked with in the past. All of this to say, the house will be wired like Fort Knox when we get done, but if you don’t feel safe here, you and the kids are more than welcome to come stay with us. Basically, you’ve got options.”
“Thanks,” was my only response. At the moment, I wasn’t capable of thinking beyond sucking in my next breath. I was hanging on by a thread stretched so thin it was borderline invisible. It wouldn’t take much for it––and me––to snap.
“We’ve got something.” Duncan’s deep voice rumbled across the yard.
Ping,was the sound I heard in my head when my control snapped like an old guitar string. Not to be confused with the ringing in my ears, because that crap was happening too. It wasn’t his fault he scared the life out of me every time he popped up out of nowhere. Then again, maybe it was. Either way, I was done.
Whirling around, I barked, “Someone needs to tie bells to your shoelaces.”
Waverly snickered, covering it up with a cough. My outburst put Duncan in motion, his long legs eating up the distance between us. He raised his hand, hesitant atfirst, like he wasn’t sure if I’d welcome his touch, then slid it along my jaw, cradling the side of my face.
Understanding shone through his pale blue eyes as they bore straight to my soul. He spoke without words; his presence alone calmed the brewing tempest inside me. It had been the same all those years ago and hadn’t changed. Duncan was my source of stability when reality became too stifling.
“Sunshine?”