Page 35 of The Woman By the Lake

“I guess so,” she mumbled, but he could tell she wasn’t buying it.

That, and considering he’d sucked back the dregs of his wine, gave him indication it was time to go.

He gave her that same indication by standing and teasing, “I think it’s about that hour the princess needs to be alone, or her car will turn into a mouse or some shit like that.”

It was a blow to watch her get up slowly, not hiding she was disappointed he was leaving.

He put his glass down on the coffee table.

She put hers down too and moved so he could get out.

But he stopped in front of her and warned, “Don’t let that story give you shitty dreams.”

“I think we both know humanity can get up to some messy stuff, Riggs,” she replied.

He did, and it fucked with him to know she did too.

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“I’m glad you brought your peace offering,” she said.

Damn.

Sweet, but no longer shy, though still vulnerable.

Because of all that, Riggs couldn’t stop himself from lifting his hand and wrapping his fingers around the soft skin of her neck. He could feel her pulse against his palm—delicate, alive, defenseless.

Damn.

He shouldn’t do what he did next, and he knew that more when she tipped her head and closed her eyes as he bent his.

But he did it, touching his cheek to hers and rubbing his stubble there, because, bottom line, he was an animal, a male one, so it was instinct, and for the life of him, he couldn’t stop himself from marking his territory.

When he pulled away, dropped his hand, and she opened her eyes, she didn’t hide her disappointment that was all she was going to get either.

“Sleep well, Nadia. Thanks for dinner.”

“You too, Riggs. Thanks for the wine.”

He jutted out his chin and didn’t delay.

He stepped off her porch and walked into the night.

Even so, the vision of Nadia standing in her sundress, illuminated by flower lights and lanterns, was burned in his brain in a way he knew he’d never forget it for the rest of his life.

EIGHT

Happy Place

Nadia

On my way into Misted Pines the next morning, the screen on my dashboard changed to indicate I had a text.

I glanced at it and saw it was from my best friend, Maribeth.

That was when I frowned.

Maribeth had been my bestie since we met in seventh grade.

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