Page 5 of Detective for the Debutante (SAFE Haven Security #3)

“And you don’t believe in that?” I ask, a pit forming in my stomach, a combination of sadness for the young children who lost their father and the wife who lost her husband. But there’s something else there too. A sadness I can’t put a name to.

He shrugs.

“I’ve never experienced it for myself.”

“Neither have I, but I still believe in it,” I admit. “My parents, Cole and Hannah Grace. How could they be anything but meant for each other?”

“I believe there are soulmates for those who want them. But for me? I won’t tempt fate. I won’t do that to somebody else.”

“Is your job that dangerous?”

“There’s always a chance,” he tells me and takes another drink from his glass, dislodging our hands.

“There’s always a chance with any life. You could be in the safest job in the world and still have something happen. It doesn’t change the need to experience life to the fullest. You could get hit by a bus,” I argue.

His lips twitch as he fights a smile.

“You’re right.”

“I know,” I grumble.

This time he barks out a laugh and I can’t hold back the giggle, the tension and sadness from his story dissipating.

“Is that why you’re heading to Nashville? To ‘experience life to the fullest?’” he asks.

“Partly.”

“What’s the other part?”

“It’s somewhere new, but not. There I get to be independent. I get to figure out my life without the opinions of others.”

He nods like he understands what I’m saying even though I’m not one hundred percent sure myself.

“That makes sense. I’d like to think you and I are alike that way. It’s why I’m so excited about moving to DC.”

He tells me about DC and what he’s already learned from visiting for his interview, his new job with the FBI, and then we talk about places I need to check out in Nashville and the ones he promises to show me before he leaves.

We talk about everything and anything. And before I know it, the night has worn on.

“Guess we shut this place down,” Murphy says as we wrap up about a trip he’s taking in a few weeks to look at apartments.

He gestures to the staff pulling the fabric cloths off the tables while others pack the centerpieces away.

Glancing around, I realize he’s right. The other wedding guests still milling around earlier are all gone; the only other people left are the staff doing cleanup.

“It looks like it. I guess we should get out of here so they can finish cleaning up,” I tell him.

“Are you going to be okay to drive?” He motions to the two empty champagne flutes in front of me.

It’s been almost an hour since my last glass, but even that’s not an issue.

“I rode over with Hannah Grace and my parents earlier. But the best thing about small towns? You can walk everywhere. What about you?” I point at the two empty glasses in front of him.

“I’m okay to drive. But a walk sounds nice too.”

“Where are you staying?” I ask him.

“The Glass Slipper,” he tells me.

“What a coincidence. Looks like we’re headed in the same direction,” I say, heat radiating through my body as I recall Sydney’s words from earlier about maybe staying somewhere else for the night.

He smiles and butterflies unfurl in my stomach.

“I just need to grab my bag from the bridal suite,” I tell him and motion to the building.

“I would have thought you would stay with your parents,” he says, following me inside the building and up the polished wooden staircase to the room that doubles as a bridal suite for weddings.

The ornate gilt accents and cream color scheme made me feel like a princess while we got ready earlier.

I shrug and look over my shoulder to find him staring at my ass. Or at least I think that’s where his gaze is.

I hurry to grab the big tote and light jacket I brought and close the distance to Murphy, the butterflies in my stomach rewarding me by swirling through my stomach and sending awareness in waves of my body.

Murphy is leaning against the doorjamb, one ankle crossed over the other.

The pose may be casual, but the coiled energy existing in his muscular form is anything but.

This room may have made me feel like a princess, but I prefer the butterflies that flutter to life when I’m close to him.

“I am. But my Uncle Mark and Aunt Faith are using my room since they flew in from South Carolina.”

“Ready?” he asks.

I nod. “Let’s go.”

This time he leads the way down the stairs and out the front door into the darkness, the almost empty parking lot proving what we already knew—we’re the only ones left at the wedding.

A light breeze kicks up and I shiver, but not from the cold.

Murphy is the first man I’ve been alone with—truly alone with—since Zach.

Sure, I went on dates when I was at school, but I always made sure we were in public venues or with a large group.

It’s where I felt safe. Only I feel safer than I ever have before, alone with the detective who helped rescue me once upon a time.

“Cold? Do you want your jacket?” He must have noticed my shiver.

A flush builds in my chest to settle in my cheeks, making the breeze a welcome reprieve.

“No. I’m okay.”

“Here.” He reaches for the tote and I hand it over, still keeping the jacket tossed over my arm.

We walk in comfortable silence until we reach the property exit and turn in the direction of the bed-and-breakfast.

“It’s been a while since I’ve spent so long just talking. I didn’t mean to talk your ear off all night,” he says, a tinge of disbelief in his voice.

“Really?”

He nods and we fall back into comfortable silence for a block.

“I keep thinking how idyllic it must have been growing up here,” he says, glancing around the dark scenery around us.

The rhythmic chanting of katydids mixes with the chirping of crickets and the gentle buzz of cicadas in the distance and provides a soothing ambient soundtrack for our walk. It’s the sound of home.

“It was. Like a fairytale. I don’t think I have one bad memory of this place.”

“It’s a lot different than Nashville.”

“Did you grow up there?” I ask.

“Born and raised.” His teeth flash white in the darkness, the streetlights casting us mostly in shadow.

“What was that like?” I ask, curious about the younger version of the man walking beside me.

“Different from here. Definitely not the fairytale, but my parents tried to keep my sisters and me protected from the world.”

“Oh.”

Our fingers graze in the darkness and my tongue ties for a reason I can’t figure out.

If I were Sydney, I’d have something witty to say or be able to banter.

But the easy flow of our earlier conversation is gone.

Because I’m not Sydney. I’m me. And I’m admittedly awkward and a little unsure of what to say. Except the words that push at my lips.

No. Anything but that .

I stop and after several more steps he does as well. Light notes of citrus and bergamot tease my nose, and I move closer to him and the heat radiating around us.

His hands lift, running along my bare arms, and a shiver works its way down my spine.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say, but just as quickly shake my head. “No.”

“Which is it?” The amused curve of his lips is countered by the concern evident on his face even in the darkness.

“I’m fine. But…I have to tell you something.”

Abort, abort. This is not the right thing to say .

Right thing or not, I don’t want to hold it back.

“What?”

“I…I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me. Or if you would even want to talk to me.” The admission rushes out of me in one long breath.

“Why wouldn’t I want to talk to you?”

“Well, the last time we talked was when you were talking to me about what happened with Zach. I saw you at the courthouse during the trial, but we didn’t talk or anything.”

A muscle tics in his jaw.

“It still pisses me off he managed to fool everyone. He hurt you and almost hurt Hannah Grace.” His thumbs rub the sensitive skin of my inner arms.

I soak in the casual affection of his touch and fight the urge to move closer.

“I’m sure you’ve seen worse,” I tell him.

“It never gets easier.” He doesn’t acknowledge my statement, and I don’t envy him whatever he’s experienced that flashes in his vision.

Will that be me at the end of this summer?

My bosses had discussed the types of cases I would be exposed to at length during the interview process for the internship.

It was the only hesitation I had when accepting the job.

Growing up in this place, and being exposed to something so different, a part of me was afraid I wouldn’t be able to do it.

But I still have to try.

He continues to stare at me, thumbs running hypnotic circles and making me want to reach on tiptoes and cover his mouth with mine.

“To answer your question, Leigh, I did want to talk to you. I wanted to make sure you were okay. After…”

“After I was drugged and kidnapped?” I offer.

His hands flex against my arms and tug me closer to him. The possessive quality of the touch has my heart racing in my chest.

“I hate what happened to you,” he says. “If I could change it, I would.”

“I survived. And it’s only part of my past. Not my entire story.”

“I can see that.”

“It was harder on Hannah Grace. Zach may have been a monster, but he was also her best friend.”

She had grieved his loss like he had died. Because in a way, he had.

“You were so young when it happened. I worried about you.” I start to lift to my tiptoes, ready to kiss him after standing here staring at each other for so long, but his next words drop me like a rock back to my feet.

“All I kept thinking about was my sister. How I wanted to protect her and other girls like her.”

And that’s how he sees me. Like his little sister.

Clearing my throat, I step back, then turn back toward the inn. He falls into step beside me, and silence envelops the two of us as we walk. It’s a mixture of past and present. Of wishing he could see me as something more—a woman instead of a victim he compares to his little sister.

But I don’t regret tonight. Spending time getting to know him.

And he’ll probably still take over my imagination in private moments with my vibrator. But that’s all tonight was.

We’re at the bottom of the porch steps of the bed-and-breakfast when he rests his hand on my arm, stopping me from ascending the stairs.

“What is it?” I ask.

“This time it’s me who needs to tell you something.”

“Okay?”

“I don’t want you to read anything into this. But I also know if I don’t say something, I’ll regret it.”

He lifts his hand, his fingers sliding along a piece of hair that had fallen from my updo at some point in the evening. He tucks it behind my ear, his thumb softly grazing against my jaw, close to my lips.

“Okay?” The question comes out as a whisper.

“You’re hard to forget, Leigh Whittaker. You were beautiful then. But tonight? In that dress? I haven’t been able to focus on anything else. You’re fucking stunning, Leigh.”

“S-stunning?” I ask, stammering over the word as the moment stretches between us.

“Stunning. If I were a few years younger or you were a few years older…” He closes the distance until his chest brushes my breasts. “I have to keep reminding myself I can’t kiss you.”

My lips tingle as his gaze fastens on my mouth.

“Can’t?”

Why not? I’m absolutely on board with a kiss. With more if it turns into it.

“I shouldn’t.”

“Shouldn’t?” I parrot, my forehead wrinkling as I try to understand what he’s saying.

“Little Bit, don’t look at me like that.”

I try to ignore the zing his nickname gives me. It’s not flattering. Little Bit . But it wasn’t what he said, so much as how he said it. Half groan, half plea. It’s his tone that has my core throbbing to life the longer we stand here with him staring at my mouth.

“Like what?”

“Confused. Disappointed. You have a line here.” He lifts his finger, running it between my eyebrows.

I huff out a breath.

“You said you shouldn’t kiss me.”

“Yes.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m old enough to know better. Nothing can come from this. And I respect your brother-in-law too much to lead you on.”

What would Sydney do?

Lifting on my tiptoes, I bring my lips millimeters from his.

“What if I want you to kiss me? What if I’m okay if nothing can come from this?”

It’s not like I’m looking for a lifetime commitment from him either. Just to enjoy the attraction sizzling between us all night.

His sighs, the breath washing over my lips.

“I can’t.”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I can,” I murmur and lift my hands to thread through his hair as my lips fasten to his.