As he approached the kitchen, the air grew chilly. The French door leading to the screened porch was ajar. Someone had forgotten to close up. He started to shut the door when he noticed a lone figure curled up on the couch.
Brigit sat alone in the dark, her face bathed in the moonlight’s soft glow. Pausing to appreciate her beauty, he realized she was crying. His shoulders dropped. It hadn’t even been two weeks since the brutal attack and he hadn’t asked her once, all weekend, how she felt. She’d worked diligently alongside him without letting on if she was in pain.
“Hey,” he murmured. As she turned, she quickly wiped her cheeks. He stepped outside. “Where’s your shadow?”
She cracked a smile. Her smile did it for him every single time. “The cold isn’t Mojo’s thing. He’s conked out in his bed.”
He draped the throw over her lap and sat close. She looked adorable in her cozy white bathrobe and big slipper boots. “Whatcha doing up so late?” He gently thumbed a runaway tendril from her face.
“Same as you.” She angled toward him on the sofa.
They gazed into each other’s eyes. The undeniable attraction whirled around them. He wanted to lift her onto his lap, wrap his arms around her and kiss her until they were breathless and hungry for more. Did she feel the energy humming between them? “Thank you for going the extra mile this weekend,” he said. “Are you in pain?”
She rubbed her chest. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“How’s your memory treating you?”
“What’s a memory?”
His lips lifted. “It’ll come back.”
“I worry that it won’t, but I’m too focused on Francesco to think about who did this to me.”
“You care about that company as much as I do.”
Breaking eye contact, she stared straight ahead. “Francesco should remain its own organization. MobiCom doesn’t get to claim Crockett Boxes.” She shivered beneath the lightweight throw.
Draping his arm around her, he scooted close and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll warm you.”
They sat in silence for a few moments.
“It’s time you knew,” Brigit murmured.
Finally.She was going to tell him about the baby, their baby. Maybe even come clean about her mysterious past.
“Colton, is that you?” Vanessa called from the kitchen. Brigit’s body stiffened beneath the blanket. Dancing onto the porch, she said, “It’s your lucky night cuz I had one helluva vacation and I’m ready to whoop it up!”
Dammit.Colton pushed off the sofa to greet her. “Welcome back, Vanessa.”
She threw her arms around him. “Oh, I didn’t realize you—” With wide eyes, she stepped back and tugged out her earbuds. “Brigit. Isn’t it kinda late to be number crunching?”
“We have a big meeting tomorrow and couldn’t sleep,” Colton said. “Good trip?”
“Um, yeah, great. Feels like I’ve been goneforever. What did I miss?” Vanessa couldn’t stop staring at Brigit.
“It’s late. I’m going to sleep.” Brigit removed the blanket and rose.
“Vanessa, when did you leave?” Colton asked.
“Night before Thanksgiving, on the heels of Chad. Why?”
“Did you see anyone outside the compound?”
“Nope, but I wasn’t looking.” Vanessa furrowed her brow. “Should I have been?”
Brigit took a few steps toward the French door. “Goodnight.”
“Brigit, wait,” Colton said. “Vanessa, are you staying out here?”
