“You had a choice.”

“I didn’t know giving me a place to hide came with mandatory calorie consumption.”

“I’m looking out for you. We’re friends now, remember?”

She rolled her eyes. “I liked you better as a lover.”

“That’s not what you said before.” His grin grew more meaningful. “But I sort of liked that program myself. Let me know if you ever want to go back to it.”

She felt she’d probably have more of him this way. If they were merely friends he’d have no reason to throw up his defenses or block her out. If they were merely friends she wouldn’t expect more of him than he was willing to give. She’d solved their dilemma…at last. All—friends and lovers—was more than he could handle. None was less than she wanted. So they were meeting in the middle. Perfect. Except for the physical craving that seemed to grow sharper with each passing moment.

She lowered her eyes before he could read what she was feeling. “I’m not that stupid.”

“Then you can be strong for both of us,” he said, and cracked another egg into his frying pan.

“Do you always cook a big breakfast—one with so much…animal fat?”

“Only when I have someone I need to fatten up.”

She crossed her legs as she toyed with her fork. “And how often is that?”

“Actually, this a first for me.”

“And if I eat like a good little girl?” she quipped.

“I’ll give you a ride home so you don’t miss all your appointments.”

“Generous of you,” she said sarcastically.

“Do I have something else you want?”

He had a lot to offer a woman, but marriage and family wasn’t on the list, and she wanted both. After David, she’d never be satisfied with a casual relationship. “I’d like a copy of that hippo picture.” She indicated the photograph she admired.

His eyes moved to it. “I could arrange that. Since we’re friends and all.” He brought his own plate to the table. “But there is one catch.”

“What’s that?”

“I need something from you in return.”

“And that is…”

She was expecting him to tease her some more, but he sobered. “Les Weaver’s contact information.”

Nearly dropping her fork, she cleared her throat. “You’re going to call him?”

“I have some questions for him, yes.”

Could the man who’d sent her that money have shot David on purpose? “The only thing I remember is that he’s from Coeur d’Alene.”

“Do you have his phone number?”

“At home somewhere. I kept a copy of the check he sent just in case I ever get audited by the IRS.”

“Great.”

She managed to choke down a few bites of scrambled egg while he made quick work of his own breakfast. “Isaac?”

His mouth was full so he didn’t answer, but he raised his head to let her know he was listening.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” he said after he swallowed. “Helping me.”

His eyes met hers. “Maybe I don’t want you to think I’m all bad.”

“You’re joking, aren’t you?” she said uncertainly. He didn’t care what she or anyone else thought, and he’d done his best—for years—to make sure everyone knew it.

Taking his plate, he went to rinse it in the sink. “Yeah, I’m joking.”

It was eight o’clock, early enough that Claire hoped she’d be able to slip into her house without being seen by her sister. Leanne wasn’t an early riser, particularly if she’d been drinking the night before. But she was up and around today, and must’ve been watching through the window, because she came rolling toward Claire the minute Claire got out of Isaac’s truck.

“Where’ve you been?” she demanded as he drove off.

Claire smoothed her clothes. She didn’t want her sister to jump to any conclusions—as unavoidable as that seemed after having been out all night. “I ran into a bit of trouble.”

Eyes narrowed with suspicion and curiosity, her sister stared after Isaac’s truck. Claire hoped Leanne wouldn’t recognize it, but that wasn’t likely. Everyone knew Isaac. Thanks to the success of his work and his reputation for being enigmatic, he was a local celebrity. And since he took his vehicle off-road so often in order to reach the remote places where he filmed, it had a lift kit, a row bar with floodlights and a giant locking tool chest that made it distinctive.

“Trouble?” Leanne echoed. “What kind of trouble? Don’t tell me you’ve gone back to your old flame. Especially after what you said to me about stirring up gossip.”

Ducking her head, Claire searched her purse for her house key. “No, he just…put me up for the night.”

Leanne followed her to the door. “You’re telling me you stayed with Isaac Morgan but didn’t have sex with him, even for old times’ sake?”

Claire wished she’d never told Leanne about Isaac, but she had. Her whole family knew he’d broken her heart and the news had traveled from there.

“I didn’t sleep with him. Really.” For once… Her denial would be more convincing if she reminded her sister that she was still grieving over David, that she hadn’t even been willing to date anyone. But she’d been intimate with Isaac just the night before and felt too slimy using her love for her dead husband to support what was essentially a lie.

“That makes no sense.”

“What are you talking about?”

Claire stepped back and Leanne maneuvered herself into the living room, where she wheeled around to confront Claire. “What else would he want with you?”

“Maybe he likes me, Leanne,” she said evenly as she closed the door behind them. “Maybe he was being a nice, compassionate member of the community.”

“Right!” Leanne added a dramatic roll of her eyes. “If I remember correctly, he was never that compassionate to you before. You haven’t said much about him since you married David, but I’ve always gotten the impression that you don’t like him…after what happened.”

“It’s not like we’re enemies.” She explained about going out with Rusty and how she’d been walking on the side of the road when Isaac picked her up.

“So why didn’t he bring you here?”




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