manuscript.
The key was warm in his pocket. He was glad Luke had repaired the back lock and even gladder that Avery and Kate had decided to start keeping the front door bolted. Kate had given him a key that morning, and not a moment too soon, because he’d noticed fresh mud on the pristine white snow in the backyard. It had obviously been dragged out from the woods, and he was sure as hell it wasn’t an animal that had done it. Yet when he’d mentioned it to Avery, she’d seemed remarkably unconcerned. Just so the Sheriff’s Department had a record of the incident,Theo had reported it. Of course, without an actual crime committed, there was nothing they could do.
Arriving at the Inn, he walked up the front path and pulled his key out. He didn’t even bother going up to his room when he got inside. Heavily aroused, he knew he wasn’t going to get to sleep for a long time. Not with thoughts of a gorgeous blue-eyed, red-headed woman scorching his mind. Instead, he headed for the parlor, where he stripped off his coat and set up his laptop. Tension was good for him. Pouring all his built-up hunger into his work was making him more productive than he’d been in ages. He worked steadily for the next two hours, compiling the notes he’d taken that day into some semblance of an outline.
By midnight he was ready to wrap things up. He stood, stretching his arms above his head before shutting down his laptop. Gathering his belongings, he started for the foyer. But as he walked, he heard a creak and then a hollow sound before a gust of freezing air hit him. Frowning, he stopped in his tracks. He’d personally locked the front door and he knew the back door was dead-bolted. Avery and Kate wouldn’t have left any of the windows open—not during winter. So where was the cold air coming from?
He put all his stuff down and stalked into the foyer. Nothing. The door was still locked shut. He did a sweep of the first floor, checking that every window in every room—the dining room, the kitchen, and the great room—was closed. He quickly surveyed the second and third floors, too. A few of the guest rooms were locked, but he doubted a cold gust of air could have made its way through a tiny crack underneath the door and down the stairwell.
Satisfied that nothing was amiss, he circled back to the parlor to get his things. The insulation in these old buildings was poor, and it was likely that one of the windows just wasn’t sealed properly. He grabbed his belongings, carried them up to Smuggler’s Cove, and set them down on the desk. Taking a quick glance out the window, he noticed that the snow was still falling. White now fully blanketed the town, and the temperature was dropping fast, which meant that the snow would be iced over in the morning. It was early in the season for this kind ofweather, and poor Avery would have a tough time navigating from Kate’s house to the Inn. Maybe he’d get her some cleats.
No. It was much more fun to have her clinging to him as he carried her around. Smiling, he turned up the heater and stripped down to his boxers. Soon, the room would be warm. Sliding underneath the sheets and the heavy down comforter, he fell asleep dreaming about a woman with bright orange hair and a wary smile.
CHAPTER 9
“Yes, yes, I understand, Yvonne.” Avery was sitting at her aunt’s kitchen table, her cell phone pressed to her ear. Kate walked into the room in her heavy jacket and scarf, obviously preparing to leave. With her free hand, Avery motioned for her to wait. “Next Wednesday at eleven? Hold on.”
She covered the mouthpiece of the telephone. “My boss needs me for an emergency meeting next Wednesday morning. Will that be okay?” she whispered.
Kate nodded. “It’ll be fine,” she said. “I’ll make sure not to schedule any appointments until the afternoon, and I can cover the tea if you run too late.”
“Thank you,” Avery whispered before uncovering the mouthpiece. “I can make it.
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