The words conjured an image Sean didn’t need, such as his brother stretched out on one of Grace’s therapy tables while she worked her hands over his back. The thought landed like sandpaper against his nerves. He shoved it aside and stabbed another piece of chicken with more force than necessary. Brian could find his own physical therapist if the need ever arose. Preferably one on the opposite side of the county.
It took him a second to realize Grace was speaking again, and he forced his attention back where it belonged.
“…on the radio about the three women who were murdered. That’s the case you’re working on, isn’t it?”
The comfortable warmth of the evening dimmed at the reminder. Even here, in her bright kitchen with the scent of garlic bread still hanging in the air, the case found a way to intrude.
He gave a grim nod. “Yeah. What a mess too.”
“Want to talk about it? I mean, what you can talk about.”
He lifted one shoulder and let it drop. There wasn’t much harm in sharing what the press already knew, maybe a little more. He just couldn’t mention the details that hadn’t been released—not that he had any desire to drag pennies and carved flesh into dinner conversation.
“Three female victims in three months. All between the ages of twenty-two and thirty-two. All taken from public areas after partying somewhere. They were strangled, then dumped in public places—though the last one was a little more concealed than the first two.” He glanced at her plate and then at his own. “You sure you want to hear this over dinner?”
She offered a sheepish smile. “It is kind of morbid table talk, isn’t it? So, changing the subject, what else have you been doing since you moved back?”
The tension the murder case had dragged into the room faded as the conversation shifted. They finished dinner while talking about the changes they’d both noticed around Whisper—new businesses crowding streets that Sean still thought of by their old landmarks, familiar storefronts long gone, and memories tied to places that existed now only in stories shared by people who’d grown up there.
By the time they cleared the table, the pleasantness of the evening had returned.
After loading their plates into the dishwasher, Sean poured them each another beer, and they moved into the living room. With unopened boxes stacked against the walls and waiting to be unpacked, the couch was the only real place to sit. Grace took one end, and Sean claimed the other. Not that he liked the distance between them, but it was probably for the best.
Now and then, the faint scent of her perfume drifted his way, subtle and maddening enough to keep his attention fixed on her more than the conversation itself. More than once, he caught himself wanting to shift down the couch and test his restraint. He stayed where he was, knowing that if he gave in to the temptation, stopping at a few harmless inches would be asking too much of himself.
The hours slipped by as they talked about whatever came to mind—old shenanigans from high school, favorite hangouts from their teenage years, stories from college, and the strange turns life had taken to bring them both back to Whisper.
Then Grace yawned. “I’m sorry.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “It’s not the company. It’s just been a long day.”
He checked his watch and frowned. It was much later than he’d realized. “Yeah. I’d better get going, or we’ll both be dragging in the morning.”
They both stood, and she followed him to the front door.
“Thanks for dinner,” he said, turning back to her.
She giggled. “I’m glad you liked it after I slaved over a hot stove all day to make it.”
He smiled and leaned in to brush a kiss across her cheek, but at the last second, she turned her head.
Their lips met, and Sean froze. For one stunned heartbeat, his mind emptied. Then instinct took over.
He deepened the kiss, drawn in by the soft warmth of her mouth and the sweetness of her that sent heat rushing through him. The world beyond the front door faded. There was only Grace—her quiet intake of breath, the way she melted toward him, and the taste of her that left him wanting far more than a single stolen kiss.
When her arms slid around his neck, his hands found her waist and pulled her closer. The moment her body pressed against his, she jerked back as though the contact had startled her as much as it had him.
They stood there staring at each other, both breathing hard. Desire flickered in her eyes, matched by the confusion he felt churning through his own thoughts.
“Um… wow. I… um…” He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and forced air into his lungs. “I’d better get going before I do something crazy like take you to bed.”
“Yeah.” Grace swallowed and drew a shaky breath. “That would be crazy… just?—”
“Crazy,” he finished, his voice rougher than he intended.
His gaze dropped to her mouth again, and leaving took every ounce of discipline he had. He wanted to kiss her again and see where this electric pull between them might lead. But rushing this felt wrong. Grace was worth more than a reckless decision made in the heat of the moment.
Lifting one hand, he traced his finger along her jaw, satisfaction flickering through him at the way her breath caught.
“Goodnight, Grace.”
