Ugh. How annoyingly typical for a youngest daughter to have daddy issues. She cleared her throat. At some point she’d come to terms with all of that. Not today.
“Okay, then. What if I’m only feeling all this for Trent because he’s the safe option?” There, now the big worry was out where they could help her dissect it. “Since he’s temporary. It’s okay to indulge deep feelings without getting smothered.” She flicked her fingers. “Or whatever fits Veronica’s analogy.”
“But is he temporary?” Celeste asked. “You told us he’d visited Brookwell before.”
“As part of this ongoing case. His job takes him all over.”
She’d almost tripped up and told them who he was looking for on the island. They knew something was up, due to the folks keeping an eye on the house, but Trent had asked her to keep details to herself, even though she trusted her sisters with everything. Including all of these inconvenient feelings.
“Huh.” Roni tipped her head to the side. “Remind me what part of your job anchors you here? If he travels, you could go with him. You always find a way to create things wherever you are.”
She sniffed. “I’m not exactly a mobile artist.” Annoyed—mostly with herself—she went for the jugular. “Just think what a clutter-pit this place would be if the gallery hadn’t made room for me.”
On cue, Roni hurled a few insults at her and she lobbed more right back until Celeste had to intervene. Enormously pleased with herself for restoring the sister-balance, she snuggled in to watch the movie, counting the minutes until she could dash over to the Hideaway and into Trent’s arms.
CHAPTER 17
As promised, Trent waited up for Natalie. He would’ve been awake anyway, reviewing the case. They wereso closeto linking Corey and Royer to the boat theft ring. He wanted the arrogant jerk to go down for the murder too. “One step at a time,” he reminded himself.
Deliberate. Methodical. Above reproach.
Those were the rules he lived by with the Guardian Agency. Rushing something now could blow it all to hell later in a courtroom.
So it was sweet relief when his phone chimed—notifying him of someone approaching the back door. The image showed Natalie in roomy sweats, her backpack slung over one shoulder.
He had no idea how he’d been so lucky, but he’d give thanks for the rest of his days for this time with her. He slid open the glass door and tugged her inside. “You’re out past your curfew,” he teased. His lips found hers and lingered there as she sighed with pleasure.
Her backpack thudded to the floor as she wrapped herself around him. The woman was a marvel. Passionate and giving and—was that lace under his fingers? He’d slipped his handsunder the sweatshirt, eager for the silk of her skin and found the tantalizing fabric instead.
The case had him so tied up, he’d almost forgotten that sexy little photo she’d sent over.
Hours ago.
She leaned back just far enough to pull away the sweatshirt, standing before him in pale pink lace that set his every fantasy on fire.
He clutched his chest. “I’m done.”
“So you don’t want to see the rest?” She toyed with the drawstring on her sweatpants, peering up at him through her lashes.
She was the best kind of temptation. “I can take it.” He slapped at the light and reached around her to lock the door. Then, giving into the playful mood, he tossed her over his shoulder. One hand locked around her thighs and her giggles trailing behind them, he double-timed it upstairs to his suite. To the bed he couldn’t imagine sharing with anyone else.
And a few hours later, when the first wisps of sunlight filtered through the curtains, he curled his body around hers feeling remarkably satisfied, well-rested, and clearheaded.
Natalie was an independent woman, a talented and accomplished artist, but right now he couldn’t get enough of the inexplicable way she steadied him. Contentment had never been so intoxicating.
“Hey.” She wriggled her back into his chest. “Good morning.”
He gave her a gentle squeeze. “Busy day?”
“Not too busy for you.” She rolled over to face him, running the pads of her fingers over the whiskers along his jaw. “What’s on your plate?”
“A couple of calls, more interviews. Y’know the deal.” There was the ongoing search too, but he didn’t want to get into that.
“Mm-hm.”
A furrow appeared over her nose and he kissed away the clear signs of troubled thoughts. “Want to talk about it?”
“Yes.” She kissed him. “But not right now. I need a shower.” She quickly slipped out of his embrace.
