Maren got out of the car and stood right in front of the gatehouse window. He could smell fuel, exhaust, and fast food on her, but underneath that? Clean, salty sweat and a hint of something flowery. He tried not to breathe it in. The last thing this poor woman needed was someone flirting with her. Under any other circumstances, Colin would have been. Even tired and stressed, Maren was gorgeous.
“Please,” she said. “I’ve been on the road since San Diego.”
San Diego. That was what—fifteen hours away? Yeah, more like eighteen or twenty. He could see it on her. She rubbed her forehead as she closed her eyes, and Colin had the strongest desire to turn her around and give her a neck rub. Something, anything that would calm her, that would take away that worried line between her brows.
“I need to see Arden Volker. It’s very important. If she’s here—do you know her?”
Wait. Colin looked back at the little girl in the back seat. Really looked at her.
Hold on. No. That can’t be.
Her eyes.
Those are Arden’s eyes.
“Are you related to Arden?” he asked Maren.
“No, not directly. But yes, I guess I am.” She glanced back at the little girl. “My niece Juniper is.”
“Your niece is, but you aren’t?” he asked.
She ran her hand through her hair. “I know it sounds very complicated, but if I could just speak to Arden Volker, I can straighten everything out. Please—you don’t have to let me in if it’s against the rules, if I don’t have an appointment. But can you get word to her that I need to see her? That a little girl named Juniper needs to see her.”
Long-lost niece?he wondered. He’d never seen either of them around here before.
Shit. What am I supposed to do?
Colin’s boss, Kyle McGuire—Arden’s husband—could be called the paranoid sort under any circumstances, and with good reason. Kyle and Arden’s lives had been in danger many times. Was this another trap? A trick?
But those eyes, he thought.You can’t fake those eyes.
Colin rubbed the back of his neck. “What’s your full name, Maren?”
“Maren…Walsh.” He noted her hesitation. Was she lying about her last name, or was it fear?
Please don’t let this be a trap. And if it is and she’s the unwilling bait, I’ll do anything to keep this woman safe. And her niece, God help me.
“Give me a minute, Ms. Walsh. Can I have you get back in your car and back up about ten feet from the gate, please?”
She smiled lightly—a smile meant to please and to disarm.
He hated it.
A lot of women used it when they were in danger and when they knew whoever was threatening them had the power to hurt them very badly. He hated seeing that smile directed at him. It went against everything he believed in, everything he did.
“Hey, look—you’re not in trouble. It’s just protocol. Nothing personal.” He caught himself. “You seem like a good person.”He nodded firmly. “And the kid goes without saying, right?” He smiled at the little girl. At Juniper.
She just watched him, expressionless now. Wary. Or interested—he couldn’t tell. It was hard with kids, and he spent as much time as he could avoiding them.
Maren nodded, and the smile she gave him the second time was much warmer. “Thank you. You’ll have to forgive me—like I said, I’m really tired.”
“I understand. Long road trips can really knock the stuffing out of you.” He stopped himself from cringing, thinking of the ruined teddy bear in Juniper’s hands. “I mean?—”
To his surprise, Maren laughed. She waved him off. “No, no, don’t worry. Yeah, Mr. Kibble has seen better days, that’s for sure.” She grew serious again. “Thank you for any and all help you’re giving us.”
“Of course,” he said. “Just let me make that call.”
Maren got into her car, started it up, and backed up not ten but twenty feet. Out of courtesy or caution, he wasn’t sure.
