Page 60 of Wicked Games

“He must think he still has some ties to you. You kept his last name.”

“Oh, that’s where this is going.”

He scowls.

“I only did that for professional reasons. I didn’t want to change all my social media, and I’m proud of my book, even if it has Darren’s name on it. He did support me, after all, and maybe if we hadn’t gotten married I wouldn’t have been able to write it. I like his family, and besides how he treated me at the end, we had a good marriage. I was proud to be his wife, and for a while, he was proud of me too.”

“Hmmm,” he grumps, and I push back a smile.

“Brooke kept your name,” I point out. “Detective LaSalle kept calling her Mrs. Lockwood. He didn’t know she married Rowan.”

He glances at me, surprised. “You’re right. I didn’t catch that. I’ve heard it for so long it didn’t sound strange. Maybe she knew she was going to marry Vale and didn’t bother to change it. What does Darren think of you keeping his last name?”

I shade my eyes against the sun’s glare and look up the road. We’re getting close to town. “He never said, though he’d think it was practical. I have years of writing behind his name.”

“What about when you get married again and write another book?”

“What makes you think I’ll do either?”

He looks at me and crinkles his eyes in amusement. “I know for sure you’ll do the former, but I guess the latter is up to you.”

“You do, huh? Not worried about four billion dollars?”

We veer onto a sidewalk. Music floats to us but the country song doesn’t sound familiar.

“It’s only money. I’m more worried about doing something that will make you want to ask for it.”

“You didn’t mind giving Brooke all that?”

“I wasn’t thinking about it then. I just wanted Theo back.”

“I’m sorry. Do you care that Rowan has it now?” I ask curiously.

“No, and if he loves her, he’d trade it all for just another second.” He clears his throat. “She’s dead, Avery.”

“Yeah,” I say softly. “That’s what Bill thinks. I asked him to talk to Rowan, offer our sympathy and ask if maybe he overheard Brooke and Hattie talking. I don’t think he’ll get anything out of it, but it never hurts to try. Bill doesn’t have Rowan’s personal number but he said he’d call Rowan’s office and leave a message with his assistant.”

“I should do something,” he murmurs, “but I don’t know what.”

“Wait and see. No one is going to expect you to. Theo’s only been gone for a few months.”

“Yeah. Come on. You promised me a beer, and I smell barbecue.”

“Humph. If you’re not concerned about four billion dollars, you should be buying me a drink.”

He turns to me, and there’s such a serious look on his face. “I’ll buy you whatever you want.”

I step forward, wrap my arms around him, and rest my cheek against his chest. “I don’t want anything except you.”

Rubbing my back, he says, “I hope you always feel that way.”

The crafts fair is being held on Main Street, and the police blocked off the road. Vendors have set up their tables where cars would normally park, and a few blocks away, food trucks offer shoppers a light dinner. A band plays in a grandstand nearby, speakers floating her sweet voice all over town.

Ashfield and the surrounding suburbs offer similar things like this, and I’ve always loved poking around the booths, smelling homemade candles and tasting local wines. Darren liked antiquing, and in the summer we’d drive out to little towns and snoop.

Seth looks comfortable, and he walks with me from table to table. I wonder how you get used to having money, if it’s a gradual thing. Like one day you realize you haven’t eaten a box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese for years or one evening you’re planning a family vacation and you don’t have to save to go to the ocean. I want to buy a vanilla-flavored lip balm, and he reaches for his pocket. I stop him and slide my debit card out of my wallet.

“You should let me pay,” he says, dropping his hand.