Page 51 of Smoky Mountain K-9

“And yes, I have learned some things. Namely, she doesn’t exist.”

Some of Mara’s anger disappeared as she took in that piece of information. “What?”

“I found plenty of Constance Millers, but none with a husband named Kyle who died.”

“Why would she lie?”

“I don’t know. But I’m going to find out. My gut is screaming at me that she’s connected to everything. I don’t have a shred of evidence to suggest that, but that look she gave me in the hallway—” He paused, shaking his head. “If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man.”

Mara glanced past him to stare at the street outside, her mind spinning. None of this made any sense. She returned her gaze to him. “Carter—”

He took her hands, cutting her off. “Honey, the last thing I want is to hurt you. This isn’t easy for me, either, but if I stick around, you’re going to get hurt. And I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.”

“But what if I do anyway, and you’re not here to help?”

His jaw worked. He rubbed her knuckles with his thumbs. “I think it’s still a bigger risk for me to stick around. If I leave, the attention goes with me.”

“You hope.”

Carter let out a long sigh. “Look, we can stand here and debate this or we can try to enjoy the rest of our evening. I don’t know about you, but I’d really rather do the latter.”

Mara’s anger returned. He wanted to pretend like he wasn’t putting speed brakes on their relationship with the light of day tomorrow and just go about tonight like nothing was wrong? Oh, hell no.

She turned her frosty blue stare on him. “How about neither? If you’re so determined your presence is harmful, why don’t you just go?”

Hurt flashed in his eyes; there and gone in a blink. His shoulders straightened and a stoic mask fell over his face, obliterating any trace of what he was thinking or feeling. “That might be best.”

“I think so, yes.” Her heart shattered as she uttered the words. The hope she had for their future quickly shriveled up and laid down in a corner of her soul.

With a nod and one last, lingering look, he stepped around her. “I’ll just get my stuff and we’ll be out of your hair.”

Mara crossed her arms, turning to watch him walk away. She blinked hard and clenched her teeth, determined to put a mask on her face that matched his. The idiot didn’t need to know how much he’d just hurt her.

It only took him a few minutes to gather his things and tote them out to his truck. Once the last load was secured, he came inside to stand near the door. With a sharp whistle, he called Maverick. The dog trotted to his side.

“I’ll call you tomorrow. If you need anything—”

“I’ll call Brooke or Gemma. Thanks.”

His jaw worked, and he nodded. Fleeting hesitation crossed his features a moment before he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her cheek. Mara’s eyes fluttered shut, and she felt the press of tears. She clenched her teeth to keep them at bay and clenched her fists to stop herself from grabbing his shirt and holding him close.

He raised his head. “I’ll see you later.” Those liquid silver eyes held her gaze for a long moment, then he abruptly spun on his heel and let himself and Maverick out.

The door clicked shut, and Mara let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. The tears came with it. Flicking the deadbolt closed, she turned and leaned her back against the door, needing the support. Her thoughts rioted, flitting through her mind before she could get more than a feeling from each one. Anger, disbelief, heartbreak. They were all there in some form. One thought was crystal-clear, though. She was glad she never told him she loved him. It would have made this so much worse.

Twenty-Seven

Heavy bass from the speakers flanking the stage reverberated through Mara’s chest. She took a sip of her beer and stared at the band playing without seeing them. The country group was pretty good, but she couldn’t tell anyone what songs they’d played in the twenty minutes she’d been here. Brooke needed to hurry up. Mara’s whole reason for wanting to meet at Big Jimmy’s was for the distraction the place provided. They had live music Friday and Saturday nights. But she needed Brooke’s larger-than-life personality here to keep her out of her head. The music wasn’t enough.

Growling at herself, she took another drink and forced her mind onto the band and off her problems with Carter. She might have been okay if he hadn’t called. If it had been a clean break. But he’d failed to get Constance Miller’s phone number, so he called to get that Wednesday morning. And he hadn’t called since. She’d received two texts, just checking in, but that was all. It left her wanting more. She wanted to hear his voice, not read it on a screen. Better yet, she wanted to have him in front of her so she could touch him and smell him.

“Sorry I’m late.” Brooke swooped in and sank into the chair next to Mara. “Johnathan’s being a dumbass.” She slapped a hand on the table. “But we’re not here to talk about my man problems. We’re here to talk about yours. Spill.”

Mara blinked at the rapid transition. “Hi. Glad you could come.”

Brooke giggled. “Sorry. You know I hate being late. It makes me antsy, then I talk faster.”

“You talk fast, anyway.” Mara smiled.