Page 40 of Outlaw Ridge: Griff
Griff raised a brow.
“She said she suspected Everett was sleeping with Hannah,” Lily went on. “What if she followed them one day? Not to catchhim, but to prove Hannah wasn’t loyal either. Show him that the girlfriend he was tossing his marriage away for had her own secret.”
Griff nodded slowly. “Would’ve made it easier for her to keep control.”
“Exactly,” Lily said. “That tracks for Catherine. Cold, calculated, manipulative.”
She stared at the photo a beat longer, then shook her head. “But not the shooting. I can’t see her getting behind a rifle and opening fire on us. It’s too reckless. Too loud.”
Griff’s gaze met hers. “So maybe she didn’t pull the trigger.”
Lily felt the chill set in again, this time deeper. “Maybe shehiredsomeone to do it.”
And to leave the photo behind. A reminder of who held the power. Of how far they were willing to go.
Griff didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he reached out and tapped Margo’s photo on the board.
“She could’ve taken all of the photos,” he said. “And she could’ve pulled the trigger, too.”
Lily nodded slowly, the idea settling into place too easily. “Yeah. Margo’s always been hard to read. There’s bitterness there about Hannah, about this town, maybe about Bobby Ray. If she felt betrayed enough…”
Griff moved his hand again, this time tapping the image of Rhett. “But he could do it, too.”
The chill that passed through Lily wasn’t subtle.
She stared at Rhett’s picture, her mouth suddenly dry. “Out of everyone we’ve talked to,” she murmured, “I could see him doing it. Pulling the trigger. Trying to kill us.” She looked down, her voice tightening. “I saw it in his eyes. That anger. That hate. Not just at the case—atus.”
The memory of it crept back, sharp and real. His glare, the way his body had coiled like he was seconds from snapping. There hadn’t been grief or fear in him, only pride and rage. The memory morphed into full-blown flashbacks.
And she could have sworn she heard the sounds of gunfire. So real. As if it were happening right here, right now.
She shuddered before she could stop herself. And then Griff was there. No hesitation. He pulled her into his arms, one handat her back, the other resting protectively at her shoulder. Solid. Warm.
Safe.
Lily let her head rest against his shoulder, just for a moment. Just long enough to let the fear pass through her without swallowing her whole.
Lily didn’t move, not right away. She felt the steady rhythm of Griff’s breath, the weight of his arm around her back, the warmth of his body still lingering from the tension of everything they’d faced.
She tilted her head just enough to glance up at him. “You know,” she murmured, “last time you hugged me… we kissed.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, slow, easy, infuriatingly confident. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Their gazes locked. “Maybe I’ll make sure it does,” she countered, the words surprising both of them.
And just like that, she leaned up and kissed him.
It started out slow. Soft. Her lips brushing his like a question, like a test. He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t pull away.
His hand came up to cradle the back of her head, his mouth answering hers with something far deeper, far more certain. The kiss deepened, breath to breath, lips parting. The need that had simmered beneath everything. The danger, the tension, the stolen glances—rose sharp and fast.
He tasted like coffee and heat and adrenaline, and the moment their bodies pressed close, the control snapped.
His hands slid to her waist, drawing her in with a firm pull, and her fingers curled in the front of his shirt. The kiss turned hot, full-blown and consuming, the kind that left no space for thought, only instinct. Only want.
Lily kissed him like she meant it.
Because she did.
