Page 69 of The Guest Cottage

Panic dug into her, freezing her for a moment, until her thoughts naturally shot to Andy. As silently as possible, she scrambled to her feet, eased into the house, and secured the door.

Her heart pounded so hard that it stole her breath away. Eyes wide with alarm, she flattened herself to the wall beside the door and peeked out through the window. The shadow went still for a few moments, then moved closer until the clear outline of a man was visible.

It was not Cort. It wasn’t anyone familiar to her. As she stared, horrified, the body came closer—as if to look in her windows!

Ungluing her feet, she ducked away and dashed into the bedroom, where Andy slept peacefully. There on the single nightstand was her phone, on but silenced. To her, it was a lifeline.

God, how she hated to be a nuisance, but more than that, more than anything, she had to protect Andy.

She shot over to the bed and grabbed the phone, rapidly texting into it, then praying for a reply. Breath still strangled in her throat, her chest aching with terror . . . until the reply popped onto the screen.

On my way.

* * *

Comfortably settled on the couch with Cort, Marlow yawned and knew she’d never be able to finish the movie. Any second now, she’d doze off.

Cort, always so attuned to her, kissed her temple. “Fading out?”

“Afraid so. I’m sorry.”

He lifted the remote and switched off the TV. “Trust your body when it tells you what you need.”

“What if it tells me I need you?”

The question didn’t make him uneasy. In fact, he smiled. “Trust it.”

She smiled, too. “You’re so easy.”

“With you.” He smoothed a hand over her hair, his fingers stroking through to her scalp where he began a relaxing massage. “Want to stay over, or should I take you home?”

Home. She really wished she could call Bramble home—for good. More and more each day, she loved the place, both the location and the people. “You don’t mind if I stay?”

“I’d prefer it.” He nudged her face up. “But you’ve had a busy week.”

True. Not only busy working at the tavern and searching for a suitable building for her business but also rearranging town habits to suit her. Her ploy with Herman had worked, and somehow—miracle of miracles—she’d gotten a lot of people on the schedule that best fit Pixie and, by extension, Marlow.

“I’ll understand if you’d rather go home to your own bed.”

And be denied a night in his bed? “What I’d really like is—”

Just then, a text sounded on her phone. She frowned, then sat forward, their conversation interrupted as she left the cozy warmth of Cort’s arms to reach her phone on the coffee table. What she read shot her to her feet.

Alerted to trouble, Cort stood, too. “What is it?”

Quickly, she texted Pixie back.On my way.On autopilot, she shoved the phone into her pocket. “I have to go. Someone is lurking around outside Pixie’s house.”

Snagging her before she could rush off, he grabbed his keys without asking a single question and said, “Of course, I’m going with you.”

Marlow let out a giant breath. “Of course.” If she’d been thinking, she’d have known he would, but instead she’d simply reacted.

Willingly, she stayed behind Cort as he led the way out to his truck, his gaze scouring the surroundings, although it was too dark for Marlow to see much beyond the reach of his outside lights. He clicked the key fob and unlocked his truck before they reached it.

When he hoisted her inside, she was in too much of a hurry to complain. They needed to reach Pixie.

No one was ever on this road in the evening except her, Cort, or Pixie, because there were no other houses. The fronts of the homes faced the road. Behind, the properties went down to the lake.

She supposed someone might confuse directions and drive down the road looking for an address, but Pixie’s word choice—lurking—suggested that the person was on foot.

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