Page 32 of Hunting the Crossbow Killer

Her sexy plea had him groaning again, shaking with need. It had been so long, so dang long.

Twelve years.

He stilled.

It had been twelve years since he’d made love to a woman, the only woman he’d ever been with.

Elly.

Shame washed over him like a bucket of ice water. Not because he was betraying Elly, but because he was thinking of his wife while loving Grace. It was wrong. This was wrong. If he made love to Grace it needed to be in the right setting, the right frame of mind, without a ghost between them. She deserved better.Gracedeserved better.

“Aidan? What’s wrong?”

He swore softly and pressed a kiss against her forehead, before shoving himself to his feet. Leaning down, he gently grasped her hands and pulled her to stand in front of him.

“I’m so sorry, Grace. I just… I can’t do this.”

Her brow crinkled in confusion and she looked down. “Um, yes, you can. Trust me. You’re standing at glorious, rather impressive attention.”

He laughed, then groaned. “Iwon’tdo this. Believe me, I want to. I can’t tell you how badly I ache to…but it’s not… I can’t… Elly—”

She gasped and scrambled away, her cheeks flushing a bright pink. “My name is Grace. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this happened, or almost happened. Were you thinking about her all along, from the moment we touched?”

“What? No, no. You don’t understand. It’s been a long time and I—”

“I get it, okay?” She grabbed her vest and jacket off the floor. “I really do understand. And I’m not mad or even hurt. It just…startled me. You’re still in love with her.” She hesitated,then stepped to him and cupped the side of his face, her gaze searching his. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. She was your wife, the mother of your child. You lost her in a horrific way and you’re not ready to move on.” She grimaced. “I admit I’m mildly mortified for throwing myself at you. But I’ll survive. I’m a big girl. I’ll be okay. We’re okay, all right? Just…forget this ever happened.”

She hurried to the door and looked through the peephole, then glanced back at him. “Maybe you’ll be able to heal and move on once I prove your innocence and exonerate you. I promise I won’t give up until I find a way to clear your name.”

He stared at her in shock. “What? Grace, no. You don’t need to—”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” She hurried out of his room and quietly closed the door behind her.

Prove his innocence? Exonerate him? This was a nightmare. He adjusted his clothes with a grimace, then strode to the door and flung it open.

Grace had opened her door, but instead of going inside, she stood in the doorway, both hands covering her mouth, her vest and jacket forgotten on the floor where she must have dropped them.

“What is it?” he asked. “Did someone break into your room?” He jogged across the landing, then stopped behind her, his mouth going dry. Framed in the large picture window on the other side of her room was the highest mountain in Mystic Lake. And the very top of it was consumed in flickering reds and yellows lighting up the night sky. Flames.

“Aidan,” she breathed, “do you know what’s up there?”

Dread settled deep in his gut. “There’s only one thing at the top of that mountain. My home.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The anguish Grace felt as she helplessly watched the volunteer firefighters pump water from one of the creeks on Aidan’s property onto the inferno that was his cabin was nothing compared to watching Aidan.

He stood a good twenty feet away from Grace and the police, his face stoic as his personal belongings were consumed by the flames, everything except the eight-by-ten picture frame he cradled against his chest. He’d risked his life running inside the cabin when he and Grace arrived and he’d had to be forced outside by firefighters—all to save a picture of his wife and son. It broke Grace’s heart seeing him clutch that photograph, knowing he could have died trying to save it.

Everything he owned outside of his business was burning to the ground. Even the workshop on the far side of the cabin had been torched. The smell of some kind of accelerant was heavy in the air. This wasn’t an accident. Someone had purposely set Aidan’s home on fire. The only question was, did they know he wasn’t there? Or had they hoped to trap him inside as they’d doused the logs and lit them up?

Grace coughed, the air smoky and hot. But in spite of that, she longed to get even closer to the fire, because that was where Aidan was standing. She wanted him to know she was there for him, her career be damned. But other than telling the firefighters that no one else lived here and that he didn’t have any pets inside, he hadn’t even looked her way. But she didn’t have to see his eyes to know what she’d see: the same haunted look they’d had when she’d bumped into him on the sidewalk on her first day in Mystic Lake.

This land, this cabin and workshop, had been his fresh start, his chance to rebuild his life after a decade spent in prison. Now it was crumbling to the ground in front of him.

The firefighters shouted a warning. They hurriedly backed away from the structure moments before the upper floor crashed down onto the first floor. Seconds later, the rest of the building caved in. Nothing about the mass of broken, burning logs resembled the majestic cabin that had once stood in their place. All of Aidan’s hopes and dreams had just disintegrated.

Did he feel as if nothing he’d done in the past year mattered? Once again he was the felon, the ex-con with no home, nowhere to go. The road ahead must look bleak, an endless stretch of loneliness and emptiness. It broke her heart seeing him this way. There was no magical fix for his pain, nothing she could do but wait and be here if he should turn to her for solace.

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