Hometown Detective. Jennifer Morey
nickname. Kaelyn had only said yes. “All she said was that she had to be careful and he had to be kept a secret for now.”
She watched Roman absorb all she’d just said. He wasn’t a hurried man. Who would dare hurry a man who looked like him? His thick, dark wavy hair and stubbly face with angled bone structure gave him a dangerous look. Predatorily dangerous.
“Why didn’t you tell Jasper about Bear?” he finally asked.
“I assumed my sister meant she had to keep him a secret from her husband.” He thought that was significant? “Or maybe Bear was married. I hoped not, but the thought did cross my mind.”
“What if Bear threatened her in some way? If she was attracted to men like her husband, who’s to say this other man wasn’t just as abusive?”
“Do you think she feared Bear? She didn’t seem to fear him. She seemed madly in love with him. If she compared him to someone like Jasper, he must be someone special. Someone good, too.”
Again, Roman took his time. Then he lifted his eyes and met hers. “All the more reason to take a closer look at the man.”
Just to be sure? To be thorough? Did he think Kaelyn might have been so smitten that she’d missed some important signs?
So he really was going to take the case. He’d indicated as much, but she hadn’t been convinced. What had made him change his mind? Her as a woman at first, but now...?
“You never did tell me why you don’t want to see your parents.” Might as well test him.
He didn’t move from the couch, just sat back, legs parted, hands on his thighs. Relaxed. His wolf eyes never left hers.
“It’s not that I don’t want to go see them. I just don’t like facing how much more they’ve done with their lives than I have.”
Kendra moved to the side table, looking up at a cheap abstract in reds and grays. She found his answer peculiar.
“You don’t think becoming a successful detective at one of the world’s leading private investigations agencies measures up?”
“My name isn’t the one in the news.”
She turned to face him, holding her glass over her bent arm. “Unlike your father?”
“Something like that. Growing up with such perfect parents makes me not want to be perfect.”
Because he didn’t feel he equaled their perfection? He sure seemed to have some kind of identity issue going on. “Solving crimes defines you?”
“It’s real.”
“You don’t think your parents are real?”
“They live an idyllic life, untouched by reality.”
He sounded so pessimistic, which went against her way of thinking. Since escaping her adoptive parents, Kendra had made a promise to herself. She’d spend her life striving for happiness, making good choices that didn’t bring her the opposite. That meant not welcoming anyone who might threaten her inner peace.
“What’s wrong with that?” she asked. “We all have to die someday. What’s wrong with living a good, stress-free life?”
“Nothing. That’s not what I mean. My father sensationalizes death in his stories. I see the real thing.”
She went to the coffee table and sat beside his glass of wine, setting hers down next to it. “What you do is commendable. I don’t see why you feel the need to compare yourself to your dad.”
“I followed his lead. Not all of us get to pick the life of our dreams. My dad followed his.”
And he regretted following in the footsteps of a great man? He’d gone into crime solving to try and capture his father’s admiration?
“What would you have done if not for your dad?”
“That’s just it. I’m not one of those people who knows. I just do what the cards lay down in front of me. I’m not like you.”
“Me?” Where had he gotten the notion she was anything like his father? She’d followed her dreams? She had but not before going through hell to get there.
“You went to college and opened a Christmas shop. You aspired to do that and you did it. Now you live well. Hard times are far behind you.”
He had no idea what she’d gone through to get where she was now. And how could he forget she’d been separated from her sister, who died before she could truly reestablish ties? He thought reality didn’t touch her. She did her best to keep dark reality far from her door, but what did Roman think Kaelyn’s death was? A walk through a pleasant-smelling daisy field?
She’d leave him with something to consider. “The cards led me to my Christmas shop, Roman. I don’t know what I’d have done had my parents not been shot to death and my twin sister taken away. Let’s not forget the enchanted life I had growing up with addictive and abusive adoptive parents. Is that enough reality for you?” He didn’t even flinch, still thinking she lived an enchanted life. Her past didn’t matter. It’s what she lived now. “Why do I—why does anyone—have to dwell on reality and not seek an easier life?”
Roman moved forward, reaching one hand to her face as he sat on the edge of the couch. “I’m not saying anyone should dwell on reality. I’m saying that’s where I live every day, every time I start a new cold case. I don’t dwell on it. I live it. I don’t live like you...or my parents.”
And so he couldn’t relate? Is that what he meant? Or did he mean he needed to surround himself with others like him so he wouldn’t be reminded of what he’d never have—a life like his parents? Flourishing and enchanted. Full of light-stepping moments and sunny days.
While her beliefs opposed his, his light eyes and the intensity in them that had more to do with attraction than conviction kept her from backing away. She knew as well as he that the two of them did not see eye to eye on life in general, but that ceased to matter.
As though he chose not to think too long on it, he pulled her head closer and kissed her.
* * *
The next day, Roman walked with Kendra toward a country club where he’d learned Bear—aka Glenn Franklin—enjoyed a weekly brunch with his parents, Hudson and Melody. He hadn’t slept much after Kendra had left. The temptation to have a cigarette hadn’t helped. She’d left shortly after he ended the kiss. He’d been surprised he’d had to end it, first of all, and then not surprised when she’d stuttered an excuse and hurried out of the hotel room.
Heat and tension simmered, invisible and without sound. She wore a cheery sundress with a cardigan sweater to ward off the morning chill. The bright colors reminded him of what she needed to live—everything his life could never give her. He’d thought long about that last night. If the two of them ended up together, the grisly nature of his work would drag her down into a black cesspool. She’d have to escape as she did every day to her Christmas shop. She’d live her dream and deny the reality of his world. How many cop or detective shows had he watched where the hero could never stay married?
White blooming dogwoods lined the parking lot and thick, lush bluegrass trimmed along a curving sidewalk stretched to a fence enclosing a pool area. The sun shone in a deep blue sky, mocking Roman with its bright merriment.
“They aren’t going to let us in,” Kendra said.
Inside the clubhouse, Roman followed Kendra into a small lobby. A young woman stood at a podium, wearing a black skirt with matching suit jacket, with her dark, smooth and shining hair up in an unforgiving bun. She gave them a work-required smile and asked, “Two?”
“We’re here to talk to someone,” Roman said.
“You aren’t a member?”
“We won’t be long.” Putting his hand under Kendra’s elbow, he guided her