Page 50 of Colton’s Secret Identity

They ate in silence at the breakfast nook. Dad had upgraded the battered stools from Dylan’s childhood to cushioned swivel chairs that he imagined would have been great fun for him and his siblings back in the day.

He tried to stay focused on his meal but his gaze kept homing in on Veronica, who’d kept her eyes downcast as she ate. Dark shadows smudged under her eyes and her shoulders sagged. It had been a sleepless night for both of them.

“Tell you what, let’s get in a power nap when we’re done. There’s no telling when Cal’s going to call, and I for one did not get a whole lot of z’s last night.”

“Same,” she mumbled through her last bite, washed it down with the lime-flavored carbonated water he’d poured them both. “Do you have a guest room?”

For the first time since he’d made his proclamation about leaving as soon as he could after they brought down the ring, she looked at him directly. Any regret or sorrow he’d imagined—hoped?—might be there had been smoothed over with her usual professionalism.

“We have several. C’mon, I’ll show you. Go ahead and leave your dish in the sink. We’ll get it later.” He motioned for her to follow as he led her through the high-ceilinged family room, past the large wall television, to the substantial staircase that began in the foyer. It still smelled like home to him, but without the ever-present vanilla scent from Mom’s frequent baking, and without the sheer cacophony of siblings giggling, shouting or pouting through the day. A pang of longing hit him in his solar plexus and he paused as if he’d been physically hit. He missed his family. Worse? He could easily imagine bringing Veronica here to meet all of them.

“You okay?” Her query was reflexive but he knew she’d noticed his sobering mood by the way she’d grown uncharacteristically quiet, too.

“Yeah, I’m good. It’s hitting me how fast the time goes by, is all. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes.” One soft word was all she offered and he dared not turn around, because he didn’t trust his arms not to hug her close to him, to not comfort her and soak up her comfort until their shared grief at a lost past morphed into what it always did with them. White-hot lust.

He climbed the stairs with her behind him, not pausing on the landing but heading straight for the first closed door. “You take this room.” He opened the door and poked his head in, made sure it was clean enough. “The sofa is a pullout, but I think you’ll find the bed comfortable enough.”

“Thanks. Bathroom?” She looked into the room after he moved aside, her gaze flat.

“Ah, down here, I’ll show you. I’ll be in the room at the end of the—”

A door opened downstairs.

“Hello?” Was that his mother’s voice?

“Who’s here?” Definitely his father’s timbre. What the heck? He walked to the landing that overlooked the front entry, and sure enough, there stood his parents. Together. And they weren’t glaring at one another.

“Dad? Mom?”

“Who—Dylan?” Emily Colton’s face froze before she recognized him and smiled wide.

“Son?” Jonathon’s smile was also instant, until it evaporated and his expression returned to its usual gravity. “This is quite the surprise.”

But Dylan knew he was the most surprised of all to find his estranged parents walking into his childhood home, together. “No kidding.”

His parents ignored his snark and immediately turned to Veronica, who’d walked up next to him.

“Who’s your friend?”

Veronica and Dylan descended the stairs and greeted his parents at the bottom. His mother regarded her with incredibly bright, kind eyes. Dylan’s father was equally warm but in a more subdued way, without the exuberance that radiated from his mother. She watched as they exchanged hugs—genuine on both parents’ parts, from what she observed. Dylan seemed stiff, unsure of what to make of his divorced parents being in the same space.

“Mom, Dad, this is Veronica.”

They exchanged greetings with quick handshakes. “Nice to meet you both.”

“I didn’t realize you were in town,” Emily gently chided her son as she tapped her finger on his sternum. “I would have taken time off.” She turned to Jonathon, who stood large and quiet behind her. “Did you know Dylan was home?”

There it was again, the dreaded word home. Veronica bit back a smile.

Jonathon raised his hands in mock surrender to his ex-wife. “I had no idea. I would have told you.”

“Would you have, though?” Emily glowered at her ex but Veronica didn’t pick up on any real animosity. If she didn’t know Dylan’s family background she would have believed Jonathan and Emily were teasing one another. This is where Dylan inherited his ability to keep his emotions close to the vest, she surmised.

“I couldn’t tell either of you because I was working a case. I’m still on the clock, in fact. Veronica and I are colleagues.”

“Oh?” Emily’s eyes glimmered with unexpressed humor. Veronica’s stomach flipped, and not because Dylan’s mom thought they were more than work partners but because she realized in this moment that she’d never completely gotten over her fantasy of things working out for her and Dylan long-term. Hadn’t she imagined being introduced to his parents?