Free Gull Harbor by Kathryn Knight

dismissive sound. “I’ve been hanging out here all week, talking to people. Gathering info,” she added in a secretive whisper.
    His hands clenched the steering wheel. This was news to him. He’d driven by her house every night after closing to check on her, and her car had always been there. Never for one second would he have guessed she was spending the earlier part of her evening at The Scrimshaw.
    “I realize you’re trying to find out what happened in that house. But showing up at The Scrimshaw in tight clothing, asking questions—that was incredibly foolish of you. Those men are dangerous.”
    “I’m fine. They were nice to me.”
    He raked his gaze over her. “I bet they were.”
    “Nicer than you,” she said haughtily.
    Shaking his head, he turned down his street. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Claire. And you’re making it really difficult for me.”
    “It’s not your job.” She paused, suddenly noticing their surroundings. “Wait, where are we?”
    “We’re staying at my house,” he announced. “I’ll crash on the couch. You need to sleep this off, and I can’t be worrying about a ghost harassing you. Not to mention a bunch of thugs who know you live alone in the woods.”
    “Whatever,” she said as he half-carried her to the front door. He led her into his room, and she kicked off her shoes and sprawled on his bed before he had a chance to turn on the light.
    “Comfy,” she declared with a contented sigh.
    Max watched her as she stretched languidly across his dark sheets. Moonlight filtered in through the window, shining on her bronzed skin. This was pure torture. A sexy siren lay on his bed, half-naked and tipsy, and he couldn’t have her.
    “You looked fairly comfortable on Mike’s moldy couch as well, but I’m glad you approve,” he said, gripping the edge of the top sheet. “Let’s get you under the covers.” He tugged and she wiggled, driving him crazy. He pulled the sheet over her quickly, resisting the urge to rip it back off and cover her with his body instead.
    “Do you need anything else?” he asked, his voice rough with restraint.
    “No,” she said softly. “Thank you, Max.”
    “Sure, honey,” he said, settling a blanket on top of the sheet. He tucked it under her chin and turned to leave.
    “Max? I need to tell you something.”
    He paused, halfway across the room. “Okay.”
    “I never slept with Keith. There was no one else but you.”
    She was drunk. It wasn’t fair to question her right now. But he had to know. “What do you mean, there was no one else but me? In college?”
    “At all. You broke my heart. I never want to go through that again.”
    Pain tore through him. What had he done to this girl? Not my fault, he reminded himself as his hands curled into fists. Judge Linden set this in motion. All I ever did was fall in love with her.
    He took a step back toward the bed, his resolve weakening. But her even breathing told him she was asleep now. He turned on his heel and strode out of the room, shutting the door gently behind him.
    ****
    She slept and slept. And slept some more. Max was home between the lunch and dinner crowds when he finally heard movement from his bedroom. Water churned through the pipes overhead, and he had to push the image of Claire in his shower out of his mind repeatedly. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he attempted to distract himself by brewing a fresh pot of coffee.
    She emerged from his bedroom wrapped in a thick white towel. “Oh,” she said, clearly startled by his presence. Her cheeks, already pink from the shower, turned a deeper shade of rose. Clutching at the towel, she backed away from him. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were here.”
    “Don’t worry about it. Anyway, that towel covers more than last night’s outfit. Come have some coffee.”
    Following him to the kitchen, she lowered herself carefully into the chair he pulled out for her. “Thanks,” she said. “And thanks for picking me up last