Page 70 of Secret Stalker

Chapter Twenty-Two

Two months later...

Bex stood at the wall of glass, watching the season’s first snowfall drift down onto Max’s deck. This was her first day back in Destiny since she’d nearly fallen to her death off a cliff and Max was almost killed by the one Caldwell who’d ever shown Bex a kernel of kindness. She was still trying to come to terms with everything that had happened. But it was going to take a while.

Strong, warm arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back against a solid, familiar chest. She wrapped her arms over Max’s and sighed.

“I love you,” she said.

“I know. You don’t have to keep telling me that. I’m convinced.”

“And?”

“And I love you, too.” His voice was husky and deep with emotion.

She sighed again, happier than she’d ever thought she could be.

He kissed the side of her neck and gently swayed with her in his arms as they watched fall turn into winter right before their eyes.

“I never heard what happened to the cashier who helped that gang at the Piggly Wiggly,” she said. “Reggie, right?”

“Thornton argued for her to be sent to a minimum security facility instead of doing hard time. She’s finally getting the counseling she needs. Maybe without her ex-con father’s influence, she’ll turn her life around and not end up like him.”

“That was awfully nice of your boss.”

“He’s not the ogre you think he is.”

She shrugged, not quite ready to forgive. Although she was pretty sure she would one day soon.

“Is everything finally settled with Robert Caldwell Senior?” she asked.

“Mmm-hmm. He confessed to hiring the gunmen. He was convinced you’d killed his son. But after hearing the gunshot the night we were on the cliff, and driving out to his son’s house and seeing that recording, he couldn’t fool himself any longer. I guess we owe our lives to the fact that Deacon kept that recording. If his father hadn’t seen it before tracking us, he might not have chosen to shoot Deacon. He’d probably have shot us.”

She shivered, the memories of that night still capable of giving her nightmares. “What happens to Mr. Caldwell now?”

“Nothing. He’s under hospice care. He probably won’t live out the week. And I don’t know about you, but I think he’s suffered enough for his sins. Losing two sons, one by his own hand, has to be devastating.”

“You feel sorry for him?”

“I suppose I do.”

She squeezed his arms. “I’m not surprised. You’re a good man. You care about people, whether they deserve it or not.”

“If that’s yet another way of apologizing or saying you aren’t worthy of my love, knock it off.”

He knew her so well. She turned her head to the side and rubbed her cheek against his chest. He rested his head on top of hers and they stood there a long time, content just to hold each other.

Finally, he said, “How did your assistant, Allison, take the news that you’re taking an extended leave of absence from the antique shop to spend some time with me?”

She stiffened in his arms. “That’s not exactly what I told her.”

He stepped back and turned her around to face him. His brows were a dark slash of worry. “You’ve changed your mind?”

“I guess you could say that. I sold my store to her.”

He couldn’t have looked more surprised. “But I thought you loved restoring and selling antiques.”

“I do. But I can do that anywhere. Like, say, in Destiny.”

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