He sent the photo to her, then set his phone on the coffee table. They’d come a long way, he and his sister, and there’d been many times when he’d worried about their futures. Emmie had found her happily-ever-after with John, and he could only hope he’d finally found his.
Kendall appeared, carrying her laptop.
She sat close enough that he could smell her vanilla scent. “How about a glass of wine?” he said before he decided it was a good idea to run his nose over her skin, inhaling her scent.
“I’d love one.”
“Go relax. I’ll pour.” When he returned to the living room, she had her laptop open. He set one of the wineglasses on the end table near her, then sat close to her but not touching. What was she reading and why was it making her frown?
“Cooper.” She turned her laptop so he could see the screen. “This is really weird. It’s a response to my last podcast. It’s signed the same way the note penned on Livie’s shirt was.”
He read the email.
Hello, Kendra… I have to wonder, though. Is Kendra really your name or is it just your on-air persona? Your last podcast on McKenzie Haywood was touching. You have a way of bringing these children to life. Almost as if you’ve experienced something similar. Have you?
Here’s something to consider. What if instead of suffering, these children you cry your tears over were given a better life? What if they’re little angels now, existing in a place so beautiful that we here on earth can’t begin to imagine the pinnacle of their joy? A place where there is no suffering, no hunger, no tears. Nothing on earth could compare to that, don’t you think?
I would love to hear you talk about that possibility in your next podcast.
A devoted fan
“Send that to me, then Grayson and Liam.”
“It has to be him, don’t you think?” she said after forwarding it to the three of them.
“Yeah, I think so.”
She frowned as she read it again. “Except here, he’s just hinting that he thinks my real name might not be Kendra. The note penned to Livie was to me, Kendall.” She lifted her eyes to his. “So, maybe it’s not the same person.”
“Or he’s playing games with you. Do you remember other emails signed the same way?” If he were a betting man, his money would be on yes, it was from their subject.
“Honestly, I don’t pay attention to how they’re signed. What I’m always hoping for is good ideas from my listeners that will help solve the case. Occasionally, my listeners pick up on clues the police missed.”
“What about an email with the wording similar to this?”
“No, I’d definitely remember if I’d gotten anything like this one. It gives me the creeps.”
It did him, too. “It’s getting late. We have another busy day tomorrow. Why don’t you get some rest?”
“Are you calling it a night?”
“Not yet. I want to finish reading these emails.” He needed to see if there were any more that raised suspicion.
“I am tired, but I don’t know if I can sleep after reading that.”
“How about I give you something else to think about?”
“Like what?”
He set his laptop aside. “Like this.” He leaned toward her, and when his mouth was an inch from hers, he asked for permission. “Yes?”
In answer, she put her hands on his cheeks and touched her lips to his. “Yes,” she whispered against his mouth.
He spread his fingers along the back of her neck and softly groaned when her tongue teased the seam of his mouth. He opened for her and stroked his tongue over hers. In that moment, as they tasted and explored, nothing else on earth mattered except the two of them. He was an addict, craving the taste of her, the feel of her, the scent of her. He kept one hand on her neck, holding her close, and the other, he put on her waist.
Bed. Now.Great idea.
No, not tonight. Before he could give in to his inner caveman and carry her to his lair, he forced himself to pull away. He had plans, a special evening to give her, and he still had the details to work out.