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“You need to tell Neil.”
“Hell no, he can’t keep a secret. Besides, they’re partners.”
“He’s in love with her,” Grant informed him. “You have a woman like Gretchen who’s out of control and a partner who’s in love with her. You’re asking for more trouble than you can handle. She might not ever come back from it.”
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Carpenter warned him. “We have a plan.”
Grant nodded though he’d already decided to fuck the plan.
“I see you. I know you,” Carpenter cautioned.
Grant only shook his head. Carpenter thought he knew him. The other man couldn’t possibly understand the ways Grant had changed over the last three years. It was why he wouldn’t underestimate Gretchen now. While it had taken Grant time to acclimate to Carlisle’s world and to warm up to the men and women around him, Gretchen had slid into that life like sliding into her favorite pair of jeans. She was too comfortable there, and the right amount of pressure could be enough to force her into a decision to stay there.
“You won’t be doing anyone any favors,” Carpenter threatened now. “Least of all you. Do you hear me?”
“Every word.” Grant smiled defiantly. “Every fucking word.”
Epilogue
Gretchen pulled her Jeep to a stop in front of Finn’s cabin. Though the small wood structure was still charming, without Finn, it seemed to have lost some of its magic. Instead of the wildflowers that had carpeted the ground the first time she’d been here, the frost covered path to the door was now covered in dead leaves.
She stepped out of the vehicle and grabbed her bag to walk up the steps to the mountain hideaway. Pausing, she closed her eyes and remembered how Finn had carried her over the threshold like a new bride when they’d been here months ago. Now, she’d enter alone.
A tear slipped through her lids and slid slowly down her cheek. They were like a second skin to her now, leaving her feeling naked when their tracks weren’t on her face. She opened her eyes and stared at the door. She could still turn around and go home, but the thought of returning to her new apartment, where she floated through the rooms like a ghost, made her stomach hurt. She was tired of not living, of only feeling pain. She wanted to look in the mirror and recognize the woman staring back at her again.
Maybe by being here where Finn lived so honestly, she could finally tell him goodbye and move on. Only, she didn’t think she really wanted to tell him goodbye.
Sliding the key into the lock, she turned the knob and pushed the door open, stepping into the small kitchen. The room made her feel warm and welcome. A fire burned in the fireplace and something had been set out on the stove to warm. She suddenly felt like Goldilocks intruding on someone else’s home. Only, this was Finn’s home, and no one else was supposed to know about it.
“Hello,” she called. Her bag hit the hardwood with a thud, and she reached for the gun at her back. Her waistband was empty. She’d stopped carrying a gun months ago, it was best not to live with the constant temptation.
She crept past the couch. A battered paperback novel lay on the coffee table, and a worn photograph stuck out of the top. Leaning over the back of the couch, she plucked the book up and opened it to the marked page. Her own face stared back at her, unrecognizable. Her green eyes sparkled like jewels, small laugh lines crinkling at the edges and her teeth shown white in her wide smile. Had she ever been that happy? She wished she could remember what that felt like.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.”
She screamed and tossed the book in the air. It clattered to the wooden floor. The picture fluttered to the ground beside it. Her heart pounded underneath the palm she had pressed to her chest as she spun to face the intruder.
Her breath caught in her throat and new tears sprang to her eyes.
Finn?
“What?” She squeezed her eyes shut and gave her head a hard shake. Pulling a deep breath in through her nose, she filled her lungs and counted backwards. Although her therapist made her practice this every time they met, she’d never done it on her own. Of course, she’d also never run into her dead ex-lover, so she might as well give it a try. When she reached zero, she slowly opened her eyes.
Finn still stood there in a pair of worn jeans and a thermal T-shirt coated in sawdust. Raising a brow, he cocked his head. A wayward strand of his unkempt hair fell over his forehead.
“Finn?” It was too much to hope, wasn’t it? He couldn’t be here in front of her. She’d seen him . . .
Actually, she hadn’t seen him. He’d already been under a sheet when she came into Carlisle’s office. She’d seen his hand. She’d never seen his face or the gunshot wounds. She’d asked to take him back home, so Brock and her family could lay him to rest. So, he could be surrounded by love one last time, but Carpenter told her the body had already been taken care of per some legal document they’d found in Finn’s apartment. She hadn’t given a damn about legalities, but everyone told her it had already been done. She’d never gotten to say goodbye. Which is why she had chosen to come here.
“You’re dead.” She had to say that, to get it out in the open and let this ghost confirm it. Only, that didn’t happen.
Finn shook his head and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in that way that drove her crazy. He took a step forward. She held up a hand and took a step back.
“I’m not dead.” He threw his arms out, stretching his shirt across his hard chest and rounded shoulders.
No, he wasn’t dead, and he was ripped. What the hell had he been doing for the past nine months while she’d been falling to pieces?
“You’re alive? You’ve been here the whole time?” Anger slowly seeped through her veins to replace her shock, and damn, if it didn’t feel good. She hadn’t even felt angry lately, having become that numb.
