someone mention aiding and abetting a murderer.
“A rental agreement?” He was surprised by the formality. It seemed out of place for this small town, for the passionate woman whose grip on his arm had softened to a temptingly intimate touch. “For a stay that’s going to last only a few days?”
She released his arm and patted his cheek. His adrenaline spiked at the warmth of her touch, the intimacy of skin-to-skin, and sudden heat rushed through him. “I’m a lawyer, Mr. Friesé. Of course I have paperwork for you to sign.” She waved at the room. “See you all later. Have a fantastic day.”
Then cupcakes in hand, she spun around and strode out the door, leaving with just enough extra haste that he knew she was thoroughly rattled by her decision, which made him smile.
Her friend with the headband grinned at him as she followed Clare. “Welcome to Birch Crossing, Griffin Friesé. You’re going to love it here, as I’m sure you can tell.”
The gal with blond hair gave him a more thoughtful look. “Be nice to her,” was all she said, but he felt the sincerity and love behind that comment. Clare had friends who cared deeply for her.
The door slammed shut behind them, and he moved to the window to watch the women hurry across the street into a small, white building down the block.
His vulnerable, delicate Clare Gray was a lawyer.
Damn. He hadn’t seen that one coming.
Was she the tough lawyer who’d strode into the store this morning? Or the vulnerable, passionate woman who’d caught his attention so thoroughly?
He grinned. He didn’t know, but he was looking forward to finding out.
* * *
Several hours later, Clare ran up the steps to the side door of her house as Griffin’s enormous truck pulled in behind her Subaru. As she reached for the doorknob of her rambling farmhouse, she suddenly noticed that the dark red paint was chipping, and that her home looked older and more worn down than she’d ever noticed. She’d been so proud the day she’d bought it five years ago, finally being able to give a real home to Katie, but suddenly, it looked rundown instead of charming. What would Griffin think, with his new truck and sparkling gold watch?
He stepped out of the truck, pausing to study the house. She became uncomfortably aware of the missing shingles on the roof and the overstuffed gutters. Her yard looked so drab compared to Griffin’s shiny truck and his pressed shirt. How would he react to it?
Then she scowled and fisted her hands. Hadn’t she learned her lesson about trying to change who she was to impress an outsider? She loved this drafty old farmhouse with its huge yard and the beautiful oak tree by the street, and she was so proud that she owned it. This was her triumph, and she wasn’t going to feel embarrassed just because it wasn’t pristine, modern and fancy like she was sure Griffin’s home was.
If Griffin deemed it unworthy, he was more than welcome to go back to the Dark Pines Motel. “Come inside when you’re ready,” she called to him, not bothering to wait for him.
“I’m ready.” He immediately turned and began heading toward the door, his stride lithe and almost predatory as he headed toward her, closing the distance between them with alarming speed.
Ack! He really was coming in! Clare pulled open the screen door and hurried inside, casting nervous glances at the misplaced shoes, jackets and school books on the floor. “Katie?”
“In here.” Her daughter’s voice drifted from the family room, and Clare was thankful her daughter was out of bed at least.
Clare set her purse and backpack in the small foyer and walked to the door of the family room. Katie was curled on the faded navy couch watching television and eating cereal. She was still wearing her pink pajamas and her brown hair was in disarray from going to bed with it wet. The poor thing had been so cold that she’d stayed in the shower until all the hot water was used up, and then had wanted even