Page 25 of Fatal Deception

His mouth twitched. “You can always make your own.”

She crossed to the fridge, rummaged around until she found cream. She checked the date. Only two days past expiration. Better than making her own pot of coffee. She dumped some in. It wasn’t going to be enough, so she moved to the pantry, grabbed the bag of sugar and dumped some in.

“When are you going to go to the hospital?” he asked.

She couldfeelhis eyes on her, but she was not about to look at him, even if she was surprised he was thinking about Vi. She’d choke down the sludge disguised as coffee and pretend like it was oh so normal to have this man in her kitchen. “It depends. You may be unaware, but babies don’t let you know when they’ll arrive. Even when you’re induced.”

The silence to that was incredibly uncomfortable, and she wasn’t sure why.

“I’ll drive you in when you’re ready,” he said, after the silence had stretched out. “Head into the station and handle some things. Then I’ll drive you back. In the meantime, I’ll help with the chores again.”

It was the high-handed way he said all that, withoutasking. Without evensuggesting. Just swept into her life and told her how things were going to be.

“I don’t recall hiring a bodyguard.”

“You’d do well to think about it.”

With what money?she wanted to retort. But she didn’t, because she had pride. Maybe too much, but better too much than too little. “Don’t you have a job?”

“Guess what? Finding out who committed property damage and is making threats against a Bent County citizenismy job. Lucky you.”

God, he was so grating. “But your job is notmychores. You don’t—”

He interrupted her, gaze steely. “Don’t say it, Audra.”

“—have to.”

He huffed out his own irritated breath. “Damn, you have a complex.”

“Well, it’s my complex to have. Maybeyouhave ahelpingcomplex.”

He snorted. “Yeah, tell that to my ex-wife.” Then he stiffened, his expression tensing. Clearly, he had not meant to let out that little tidbit.

Ex-wife.

So none of her business, but she stood still, tense herself, just…absorbing this new piece of personal information about him. She would never have claimed to know him. Literally the only thing she knew about his life before Bent was that he’d been a detective in Denver.

The end.

Ex-wife. He had anex-wife. He’d beenmarriedwhen he seemed like such a loner. Maybe that was why he had an ex.Ex-wife.

But she wasn’t Rosalie. Or Franny, for that matter. She didn’t ask uncomfortable questions. She didn’t poke into other people’s private business. Even if she desperately wanted to know more.

Had to know more. “You were married,” she said, instead of keeping her mouth shut like sheshould, like she normally would.

The stoic expression and tension in his shoulders didn’t change. “Yeah.”

“And divorced.”

“That’s usually what theexmeans.”

“I… Is that why you moved here?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Yes. No. Complicated.”

She wanted a real answer, and knew she didn’t have a right to one. “Right. Sorry. None of my business.”

“You got any ex-husbands rolling around?”