Page 45 of This

But it’s too late for me once the images load. A cottage settled in a grove of trees along a river with mountains in the background, a legit field of wildflowers outside the back door, and two wooden rocking chairs I can hear squeaking. Goose bumps dance across my skin, my mind already on the stone patio in a mental parka.

It feels right. Where I want to be.

I grab my phone to check the distance from Phoenix and text Dane.

It’s only a six-day walk to Colorado.

His answer pops up fast.

Now we’re talking. Just let me stretch first.

Because, baby … I would walk anything under five hundred miles.

I smile through my eye roll at his Proclaimer’s reference.

Cheesy,I text.

Worth it,he sends back.Now leave me alone, so I can get my shit done and see you this weekend.

Steve leans over and nudges me with his shoulder. “Well, is it Colorado?”

My eyes drift back to the computer, to my little cabin of solitude.Colorado.Not somewhere I’ve pictured myself before, but I can’t imagine going anywhere else now.

I send a message to the poster. With the deal they’re offering on rent, the room won’t last long. The young lady requirement I have locked down, but the rest is subjective, so along with the basics, I toss in a hefty dash of sweet-talk. Then I hit send and wait. My fate is now in the hands of one M.E. Stanton, and for the first time all day, I relax.

“Acoffin,” Dane says. “M.E.Stanton wants your measurements to build a coffin.”

The email hit my inbox yesterday. A cryptic response involving an almost-poetic invitation to an interview for the room. Along with the rather odd request involving my bust, waist, arms, and neck. I’m rereading it, stretched out on the couch between Dane’s legs, my back to his chest and head on his shoulder. He was already here when I got back from work, watching a sports recap show. Steve had taken the liberty of filling him in about M.E. Or what we know anyway.

“What if she—”

“It’s a he.” He shifts behind me, a tension in his tone. “Some sicko waiting for a sexy-ass woman to show up who he will then murder and bury in his backyard.”

Steve said the same thing, minus the sexy-ass part. Maybe they’re right. Flying to meet a stranger who lives next to a river on the outskirts of civilization could set me up to become a statistic. But any time I see the email that gives directions using landmarks and minutes instead of street names and miles, I want to follow them. Go to the picturesque house surrounded by nothing but trees and air.

Dane slides the phone out of my hand. “I’ll rearrange my schedule.”

Already smiling, I flip over, so I can see him. “You’re coming with me?”

“I can shuffle things around on Thursday and drive up. We’ll find a sketchy motel for the night and visit your potential killer in the morning.” He sets my phone on the end table over his head and sighs, resting his hands on my back. “You know what this means, right?”

“I owe you?”

“Absolutely. But also…” He hangs his head, so our noses touch. “We’ll be together for Valentine’s, which requires me to spring for a less skeazy place. Maybe even take you to a dinner we don’t order at a counter.”

“Sounds rough.”

“I know. I don’t even like you that much.”

I wrinkle my nose, and he kisses me.

Except he does like me that much, and when I get off the plane the following week, he’s waiting for me—a man with a smirk and a plan. A dinner reservation first, then a real hotel with an ice machine on every floor he insists on showing me. I’ve never understood the draw of Valentine’s Day, but after all the complimentary champagne and strawberries at the restaurant, I come around on the idea. Or it could be him. Probably him.

Since our destination gives newmeaning to middle of nowhere, the most convenient place to meet was New Mexico. Anything else would have required a connecting flight for me and an extra few hours of traveling for Dane. Our morning drive will take over an hour, so Dane stops for coffee before we abandon society.

He looks suspicious as he crawls in and hands me my drink, and then I seeAngelprinted on the side of the cup with a halo over the A.

Oh no. I sip and grimace. All milk and sugar with an accidental splash of coffee underneath. The same thing I ordered the morning we met.

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