Page 65 of Sinister Secrets

Groaning, I bend to give the pygmy goat at my feet a good rub. He dances away, just out of reach. Gives me an accusing look and baas his disgust with me.

“I know, buddy. You wanted to put all that food away in your belly, didn’t you?”

He baas again.

“If I promise to bring you something special later, will you forgive me?”

His head tilts to the side as if he understands what I’ve said.

“Please?”

He pops in the air, performing a 180 to show me his back. Just as my heart is about to break, he looks at me over his shoulder. Gives me his flirtiest little goat smile, wags his tail, then frolics off, hopping from side to side in a cute display of dancing prowess.

It puts a grin on my face that lasts the entire walk inside. If only everything was so easy, but I suppose that all the best things worth having are worth working hard for. Solutions. Inner peace. Relationships.

The last one has me checking my phone. Sighing at the lack of notifications, I set it on the bathroom counter. Crank the hot water in the shower. Shed my filthy, sweaty clothes, tossing them into the hamper. Step under the spray and let it pound out the knots in my neck that have drawn so tight that they’re stifling the blood flow to my brain.

I know that Jake’s busy. That he has no idea what I’m dealing with right now, because I haven’t told him. But it isn’t like him to forget a feed delivery. It makes me wonder if maybe something else is going on.

Though I tell myself that I need to stop, that I already have enough to preoccupy my mind, I don’t heed my own advice. Things have been different since we got back from Virginia.

Is it only because of what’s taken place since then—the missing child, the discovery of a body in the pond, finding out it was Gordon, the huge project he’s dealing with at work—or is he having second thoughts? Not necessarily about me, but maybe about the pace things are moving. Or the implications of what cutting the last tie to my former life means.

Turning toward the faucet, I tip my head up, letting the water flow over my face. I imagine it washing away all the destructive thoughts. Shiver as a cold draft brushes against my back. Gasp as a strong grip closes over my hips.

“Did you lock the door?” I ask.

“All of them,” Jake promises.

I groan, stretching my neck, creating more space for the lips whispering against my skin to travel. Relax against the strong chest pressed against my back. Reach behind me to pull him closer, eagerly surrendering myself to every touch, every sensation as his hand drifts lower.

Legs trembling, I lean forward, bracing myself against the shower wall. His body follows mine like a shadow, erasing every pain, every doubt, replacing them with pleasure instead, my release setting free all the poison that’s built up inside of me.

When we’re done, he wraps me in a towel. Steps over the side of the tub, holding my hand as I follow. His grin is infectious, my relief overwhelming… right up to the moment I notice one of Chelsea’s hot-pink lace thongs on the bathroom floor.

Though I look away immediately, the image is seared into my brain. I don’t want the thoughts I’m having. They’re not welcome in my head, but that doesn’t stop them from raising their voices, pounding their fists in an effort to be heard.

Is it the detective in me? The woman? Or am I simply my own worst enemy? Tightening the towel around my chest, I turn away, facing the mirror though I avoid the reflections hidden beneath the fog—his, mine, and my inner demons of doubt and distrust.

I know that Jake loves me. That he’s done more than enough to earn my faith in him. That he’s proven time and again that he would never hurt me.

But I’ve had my fill of unanswered questions for this lifetime—there’s no more space for another one to lurk inside me. Though I hate myself for it, I have to do it.

“How did you know?” I ask quietly.

“Know what?”

“That it was me in the shower.”

“What are you talking about?”

Though he tries to turn me to face him, I refuse to budge. But I feel it in him, the sudden tension in his grasp as he follows my gaze to the pair of panties on the floor. Reaching past me, he rubs the condensation from the mirror. Stares into it until I meet his eyes.

“You know that I love you, don’t you?”

I nod, not trusting my voice.

“Every single part of you, from your brain that needs to know all the hows and whys, to this amazing body of yours.” Running his hands down my sides, he pins the towel to my waist, accentuating my curves. “Trust me. I’ve spent too much time drooling over this silhouette through the shower curtain to not have every inch of it memorized.”