Free Playing with Fire by Desiree Holt Page B

suffered the last few months, but she never would have left stuff this way. And, of course, it’s been six years since Diane set foot in here.”
    He frowned as he looked around, standing still for a long time as if memorizing details. He walked around the room once more, taking his time now, studying in the disarray in the closet, searching for some kind of indication of why someone had been there.
    “What I can’t figure,” he said at last, “is what they’d be looking for. Diane didn’t have anything of real value. Not even our wedding ring. I got what I could afford. And why now?”
    “I asked myself the same thing. I can tell you my parents didn’t change a thing in this room after Diane died. Did she spend much time over here?”
    “As much time as she did anywhere, I guess, including our home.” The venom in his voice was obvious. “But she didn’t have anything worth taking. Something else is going on here, and it bothers me that I can’t figure it out.”
    Phil was just finishing up when they walked out onto the porch. He closed the workbox on his truck and brought a set of keys to her.
    “The same key will open all the doors,” he told Cassie. “I didn’t know how many you’d need, so I made four. I guessed you were looking for extra security, so I also put deadbolts on the three outer doors.”
    “Thank you very much,” Cassie told him. “This has been a big help. Let me get my checkbook, and I’ll pay you. Oh.” She stopped. “It’s an out-of-state check. Is that okay? I promise you it’s good.”
    “No problem.” His smile was just a tad uneasy. “Uh, just pay me for the materials, and we’ll call it square.”
    “But that’s ridiculous.” She raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on? You came out here on a Saturday, which is at least double time. I insist.”
    “Uh…Griffin?” He shifted from one foot to another.
    “Pay him what he says, Cassie. He owes me too many favors to charge for his time.”
    She saw it was useless to argue with them, so she wrote out a check for the locks and Phil all but ran to his truck.
    “I think that man’s afraid of you,” she said, a smile twitching the corners of her mouth. “Do you beat him on a regular basis?”
    “At least once a week,” he said, a solemn expression on his face. Then he then winked at her.
    Her heart stuttered, and she had to turn away. This was absurd and ridiculous, and she had to stop it.
    He went back to the yard work, and she tackled another room in the house. When her stomach grumbled, she knew it was time for lunch. She debated about offering Griffin something, knowing she was wading into deeper and deeper waters, but finally went to the door and hollered to him.
    “If you like tuna fish, lunch will be ready in ten minutes.”
    He looked up from the side yard, startled. He wiped at the sweat on his forehead with his arm. “Okay. But I need to find a place to wash up.”
    “You can use the bathroom downstairs. Come on in.” She went back to the kitchen to fix their lunch. What are you doing, Cassie?
    In a minute, the front door opened and closed, and footsteps moved down the hall. She was just setting their plates on the table when he came into the kitchen. His presence filled the room. His hair was still damp from running wet hands through it, and he had put on a clean T-shirt. Muscles rippled beneath the tanned skin, and he smelled of maleness and the outdoors. Her unruly hormones did a happy dance.
    Damn!
    Despite the past, despite the pain she still carried with her every day, she wanted nothing more than to throw herself against his body and hold on for dear life. And that was a sure recipe for disaster.
     

Chapter Twelve
     
    “I think you’ll need to soak the towel I used, for about a week,” Griff told her with a tiny grin. “Sorry about that.”
    “No problem.” She fussed at the table settings. “I hope this is okay.”
    She had prepared tuna sandwiches with chips and pickles and large