“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.” His voice was too deep, too gruff.

“I...was thinking about those one-night no-obligation flings you talked about.”

He felt as if he’d suddenly become paralyzed, and then he felt as if someone had set him on fire. He lowered his head, fighting the fierce longing that ripped through him.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I apologize. I can tell that...” She started to step back, to close her side of the door. He stopped her, his hand firmly on the door she would have closed.

“Don’t you see?” he asked her, his tone harsh. “I do know your number—and it would mean something.”

She didn’t fight him. She didn’t run in embarrassment.

She met his eyes. “Yes, yes, it would. Thank you. Thank you for rejecting me. I think.”

“I’d never really reject you,” he whispered.

She looked down and then back up at him, a trace of amusement in her eyes. “That’s very sweet. Thank you again. And good night.”

Olivia shut the door, and he allowed her to do so. He went to bed, knowing he should have been seeking a killer in his mind even as he fell asleep. He should have been thinking about clues, about putting together small pieces of information in some logical order.

Instead...

He dreamed of what the night might have been.

8

No way out of it. Olivia was almost certain that the morning would be incredibly awkward. She wasn’t sure why she’d done what she’d done; maybe it was the way they’d laughed together or how much they’d shared. Maybe it was simply that she’d been impressed with the man from the moment she’d seen him. Maybe it was the fact that she’d given too much of herself and her life to the Horse Farm.

It was a wonderful place. No, they weren’t a cure-all or a fix for everything that befell humanity. They didn’t cause autism to vanish; they didn’t make Down syndrome disappear. They couldn’t automatically make an addict see the light. But they did help people learn about trust, self-worth and their ability to control themselves, their own lives, within the world around them. Most important, perhaps, to believe that they could love themselves. All this because of Marcus Danby.

All of it could be ruined. And here she was, upset about being rejected when she’d made her first sexually aggressive move ever. An action she still didn’t entirely understand...

But what a nice rejection.

For a moment, mortification seized her. Did men talk? Would he call Malachi and say, “That cousin of yours is really something. She tried to hop into my bed last night.”

She didn’t think so—oh, not that men didn’t talk! She just didn’t think Dustin would be so callous.

She’d just finished brushing her hair when there was a tap on the connecting door. She opened it. Dustin was dressed and ready to go. “I figure you have to be at work,” he said.

“I do. But I have to go by the house first to take care of Sammy.”

“Of course. Sorry. I was planning on stopping at your place first, anyway. I want to see if we have footprints on your porch.” He grimaced. “You can tell I don’t have a pet.”

“You should have a pet,” she told him. “You’d be a good pet owner.”

“Pets deserve more than I can give,” he said. He glanced at his watch. “Let’s grab some coffee in the lobby and drive to your house. After that, once you get your own car, I’m still going to follow you.”

“Sounds good.”

She picked up her backpack and they walked to the lobby, where the motel offered coffee and Danishes. They each filled cups and quickly chose some food.

To her relief, their time together wasn’t awkward at all. He was completely natural. Still fun, still quick to smile, even quicker to tease her.

But when he pulled into her driveway, he sat there for a few seconds, looking over at her. It was going to get awkward then, she just knew it.

“I don’t even know how to say what I want to say, what I want you to know. I can’t tell you how much I would have loved to have been with you last night. You’re...spellbinding. That’s the only word I can think of. You must have some idea how attractive you are. More than attractive—beautiful, inside and out. And I admire what you do. But...I wouldn’t want just one night. I’d want a lot more. And we both know what it’s like when people leave—or when you have to go.”

She gazed down at her hands and then raised her eyes to meet his. “When I said thank you, I meant it. You were really decent about the...situation. You were honest—and kind. You’re a good person.” To her, there was no higher praise.

“No, no, I’m not. I spent years being bitter and wondering why I was a freak. Then I spent more years patting myself on the back for being a freak—but for dealing with it so well. I finally figured out that my...unusual skills could be of some service in the right line of... Good? Decent? I don’t know. I’m kind of hard and brash and not always socially adept. I’m constantly looking over my shoulder. But I do care about you, and—”

“I have a dog who must really need to go out by now,” she said.

He smiled, lowering his head. “Yeah. But first...”

She didn’t know what to expect when he opened the compartment between the seats. What he produced was a can that looked like it might contain hair spray.

“Pepper spray,” he told her. “Better than nothing.”

“How does it work?”

“Flip this tab. That’s it—no safety or anything. Flip the tab. Keep it on you at all times, okay?”

“That’s going to be a little tough.”

“Why?”

“I don’t carry things when I’m working. I leave my purse in the office, and I shove my phone in a jeans pocket.”

He sighed with exasperation. “I was afraid of that,” he said. “Keep the pepper spray with you, in your bag, so you have it while you’re in your car, or going to and from your car—whenever you’re out. I’ve got something else that’ll do during the day. This is the best I can manage unless you want to go to a shooting range, and that can’t be done for a while.”

“What is it?”

He reached into the console compartment again. The next thing he took out looked like lipstick.

“This one, you do have to pull the cap. It’s also pepper spray. It works just like a tiny perfume bottle. The spray is small but you can at least aim for the eyes and blind someone temporarily.”

She took it from him. “This will fit in my pocket,” she said. She’d bent close to listen to him and could feel the energy of his body, which seemed to radiate to hers. They looked at each other. She’d already been rejected once, but...

She leaned in even closer and kissed him swiftly. Felt his lips, and the vibrant aura of assurance about him. Something threatened to spring to life and she instantly pulled away—not giving him another chance to reject her. Then she opened her door to get out of the car.

Oddly, she was hurting more than she had last evening. But, of course, he was right. If they got involved, where could they go with it?

“Wait up,” Dustin said, exiting the car and running behind her. He stepped in front, blocking her as they reached the porch. “Someone’s been here,” he said.

She glanced around him at the porch. The dirt she’d left yesterday had been disturbed. He moved ahead of her gingerly, hunkering down to study the prints in the dirt. She bent down to look. “There’s not enough to get a clear impression. But I’d say a man in boots—probably a size twelve or thirteen.”

“That could be Aaron, Mason, Sydney or Drew,” Olivia said. “Or half the men in the area. It’s horse country, farm country—cow country, too. Everyone wears boots.”

He nodded. “But who gained the most from Marcus’s death?”

“Well,” she replied unhappily, “Aaron.”

He stood up and smiled grimly at her. “That means Aaron might have been here. On the other hand, the fact that he benefited from the will doesn’t prove anything. So...it could equally be someone else. And whoever it was may well have come here to hurt you.”

“So we haven’t got anywhere?”

“No. But it’s a good thing you’re getting an alarm put in tomorrow,” he said.

“I have to let Sammy out and feed him.”

He stepped aside, and she started to open the door, inserting the key. She gave him a questioning look before she turned it, despite Sammy’s frantic barking.

He raised his voice. “We already know that whoever came here wears gloves,” he said. “This person wouldn’t have known if you were here or at Marcus’s house, but probably tried both.”

“So, if someone asks where I was last night, what do I say?” Olivia asked.

“My guess is that no one will ask because no one’s going to admit he was hunting you down.” Dustin shrugged. “Or if someone does ask—and there is, of course, a slight chance that your visitor was legitimate—you can say you were going back and forth between the two places. That’s not even a lie. You were at both houses last night.”

Olivia opened the door. Sammy greeted her as if she’d been gone an eternity. “Hey, boy! It was just overnight,” she murmured.

Either Sammy didn’t know it was Dustin’s idea they not spend the previous night there or he was so happy to see anyone human that he leaped up on Dustin in a frenzied greeting. “Down, boy, down, and I’ll scratch ya good, I promise.” Dustin kept his promise, and Sammy barked happily, then headed for the door.

“Does he need a leash?”

“No, not really, but—” Olivia broke off, remembering that the dog had recently been injured. “One of us should be out with him. He’ll just run around and then head to his spot at the side of the house.”