Page 142 of Noel Secrets

His words—his vulnerability—caught her off guard. She started to snap that it wasn’t his business how she’d reacted, but bit her tongue because his thoughts did matter to her. She hadn’t wanted to be drawn in by Brent’s emotional manipulation any more than Clay wanted to see it. And her face flushed with embarrassment that he’d had to watch her so weak in the knees and easily manipulated.

A lump formed in her throat as he waited for her response. She set down her cleaning supplies and wiped her hands on a dish towel as she struggled to find the words to explain. “I can’t deny those old feelings, Clay. I used to love him very much. But that’s all it is. Echoes of the past. Why does it matter so much to you?”

He shrugged again but still seemed edgy. “I don’t know, but it does. Maybe I just don’t want to see you hurt again, Darby.” He hesitated again then gave a resigned sigh. “I don’t like watching someone try to win you back when I was starting to hope you might look at me that way someday.”

She sucked in a sharp breath at his raw honesty. She couldn’t deny the attraction between them and she didn’t want to. .

“Brent is my past. That’s all he’ll ever be.” She reached for his hand and held it, the truth of her feelings for him becoming clear. “You…you make me hopeful that I might still have a future.”

A smile played on his lips. “Yeah?”

She laughed too at this big strong man who’d protected her from danger yet hesitant to admit his own feelings. “Yeah. I like you, Clay, and, maybe when this is over and I’m still alive, we can see if there’s anything between us.”

He nodded then pulled her to him for a hug, and she clung to him, soaking in the scent of his aftershave and noticing how well she fit in his arms. Protective arms that would do everything they could to keep her safe.

Maybe it was time she opened her heart just enough to let him in.

His phone rang, interrupting the moment. He released her then pulled out the phone and glanced at it. “It’s Cooper. Maybe he found something.” He answered the call, stepping into the other room.

Actually, she was glad for the call. Things between her and Clay had gotten a little too tense. Yes, she liked him. Yes, she was even attracted to him, but she had to focus on uncovering the person behind these attacks on her before she could allow herself even to think about another man that way.

She heard something at the front door and glanced out the window to see the mail truck pulling away from her curb. Shehadn’t heard a knock and wasn’t expecting a package but he must have left something. She moved toward the front door.

The dogs were already there, tails stiff, ears upright. Scout gave a low growl.

“What is it, buddy?” she asked, reaching to rub his head. “It’s just a package.”

The box sat neatly on her doorstep, plain brown, no markings beyond her name and address—handwritten in black ink. Odd. Most deliveries were postmarked. Still, she bent down and picked it up. It was light, almost too light.

The moment she crossed the threshold on her way back inside, the dogs began barking—all of them, frantic now, circling her, blocking her path.

“Okay, okay, what’s going on?” Darby set the box on the table. Scout whined, then lunged forward, pawing at her leg.

She pulled the tape from the box and immediately knew. Something was wrong. Chills ran up her spine as she heard a click from inside the box.

Clay entered through the kitchen, saw the box on the table and the tape half off. His breath hitched as he yelled out, “No,” before running and pulling her away. He kicked the dining table over and shoved Darby behind it just as the world erupted.

A deafening boom tore through the room, hurling debris and fire in every direction. The shockwave slammed her into the floor, pain exploding through her side as smoke and heat swallowed her senses.

The dogs—she heard them yelping, paws scrambling on the hardwood to take cover.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The fire was spreading fast—flames licking the ceiling, devouring curtains and furniture in a frenzy. Clay lay a few feet away, unmoving, as darkness took her.

Chapter Ten

Darby.

His first thought as consciousness seeped back to him, bringing with it a coughing attack as dark smoke smothered the air.

The table was in shards, having taken the blow of the debris. Thank goodness she’d gone for the solid wood table and not cheapened out.

Smoke billowed from the house, thick and black against the sky that was now visible through the hole in the roof and the door that stood half-hinged open. The dogs bolted past him, tails down, eyes wild—but alive and uninjured—as they ran through the door. All except Hercules, who sat whining beside a figure a few feet away.

Darby curled on her side, blood streaking her forehead, her shirt singed. She was conscious—barely. He hurried to her side.

“Clay…” she rasped.

“I’ve got you.” He scooped her into his arms, his chest shielding her face as a beam groaned above them. The heat was unbearable, a furnace swallowing everything she owned. Flames snapped at his back as he staggered out the door and down the lawn.