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I don’t want to win her trust through deceit. No way.
‘Actually, I don’t think Chris did this,’ I say. ‘I’m sure it’s the kind of thing hewoulddo, given half the chance. But he doesn’t know where you are right now, and, if possible, I’d like it to stay that way.’
She takes a bite of her sandwich and chews thoughtfully. ‘Who do you think did this, then? And why?’
‘Found a guy in the woods last week,’ I tell her. ‘Trophy hunter. Stopped him shooting down a mule deer at dusk. Makes me so mad. There guys going around, playing God like that, just for sport.’
Something catches Addison’s eye. ‘But… your chandelier’s made of antlers,’ she says. ‘And that bear skin rug. Didn’t you hunt those creatures?’
‘Hell, no. The old woman who owns this land gave them to me when I took up smoke-watching in her area. Said her grandfather caught them, many moons ago.’ I take a bite of my sandwich now, and instantly it sets my taste buds alight. ‘Dammit, this thing isdelicious.Apple and bacon, you say? Never head of making grilled cheese like that. You wouldn’t think it, but it worksperfectly.’
Addison can’t help but give me a big, warm smile, showing off her straight white teeth. ‘Thank you. Glad you like it… You think that guy, the trophy hunter, put the head there, then?’
I nod. ‘Could be, could be. Tryna send me a message.’ Even as I say this, I can’t help wondering if a trophy hunter really would do something as crazy as this. I’m concerned there are other forces at work here. That’s formeto worry about, though.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ says Addison, curling her legs under her on the couch, making herself so at home, so comfortable, that it looks as though she’s been here for years. And I kinda wish she had been. ‘If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to stay.’
‘You would?’
‘For a little while, at least. But only if that’s okay with you. I know we haven’t necessarily gotten off to the best start. And then, with everything that’s happened today —’
I nod.
‘I feel safe around you,’ Addison says quickly. ‘Even if you do get random body parts turning up at your house from time to time.’ She smiles, and then puts her pretty pink lips around the neck of that beer bottle and I can’t help my mind going to places that I know it shouldn’t.
‘Course you can stay. I’dlikeyou to stay,’ I tell her. ‘As long as you cook me one of these from time to time.’ I take another bite of the sandwich, loving that oozy, melty cheese on my tongue, then the tang of the apple and the smokiness of the bacon taking it to a place I never knew grilled cheese could go.
‘I’ll make you these if you promise to keep making me pancakes,’ she says, with a smile that leaves me inno doubtabout the fact she’s now flirting with me. Oh, hell. I was half hoping she’d drive off after lunch just so I could take a lie down in my bed andthinkabouther for a few hours. Now, I’m going to have to behave myself until at least after she’s gone to bed tonight.
‘Tell you what,’ I say. ‘I’ll wash the dishes, since you did the cooking. Why don’t you have a rest on the couch for a while?’
If you like, you can fall fast asleep, baby girl. Then I can think about you right away.
‘Sounds good,’ she says, handing me her empty plate and stretching, then lying back on the couch. Her legs look so damn long and slender in those hotpants, I couldthink aboutthem for a long, long time.
I head over to the kitchen and start rinsing and scrubbing the dishes, listening to the sound of Addison gently humming. I look over and she’s scanning my bookshelves with a look of pleasant surprise on her face.
‘You’ve got some really good books here,’ she says. ‘Who knows, maybe I’ll just stay forever!’
Maybe you should, I think, as my dick strains in my track pants. The pants are made of such thin cotton, it’s a good job I’m standing all the way over here, because she’ddefinitelybe able to see the shape of my hard-on right now. Hell, it’s hard not to mistake it for a damn pine tree — thick and straight as a tree trunk, pointing up toward the sky.
I try to push it down further into my pants, but that only makes the fucking thing more excited, hungry to be touched again, so I just stand with my back to Addison, trying to keep my goddamn boner out of view.
‘What’s this?’ asks Addison, but I can’t turn around to see what she’s looking about, so I just continue washing dishes, trying to think unsexy thoughts, until suddenly, I hear her shout: ‘Finn Wilder? What the fuck is this?’
Oh shit. I’ve never heard her cursing before. What is it this time, another dead animal part?
I spin around to see her looking at a red folder.
And that’s far, far worse than some animal carcass.
Dammit to hell and back.
I’d forgotten that I’d left it there. After I’d taken her paperwork out of her trunk, without her knowing — the document that Violet got Addison to sign, making our marriage official — I filed it away in the red folder and put it on the end of one of my bookshelves. Fuck. I’m such a fucking halfwit. That thing should be locked away in my gun cabinet or something. I’ve never been good at filing.
‘Darlin’, don’t…’ I stammer, but it’s too late. The truth is out.
'Married? What the fuck?' she cries. And that's when I hear her screaming for the second time in less than forty-eight hours.
