Then don’t, Wes thought. But oblivious to Wes’s thoughts, Chris continued. “What you told me tonight, about Declan still trying to prove it wasn’t natural causes… Declan’s an intelligent man. I never liked Courtney either, but I don’t know that I can picture her as a killer. It’s not… rational.” Chris looked uncomfortable. “There have been stories recently… things he’s been doing… Do you think he might need professional help?”
“No,” Cara snapped. “He’s suffering that’s all.” Chris looked like he wanted to argue the point, but Cara put a hand on his arm. “Do you mind if we call it a night? I’m exhausted.”
“Of course.” He gave her a smile, and when they reached the door, he leaned down and pressed a kiss against her cheek, pulling her into another hug. Wes felt his shoulders bunch again. “I’m in town another couple of weeks, so if you want to grab a bite, let me know. Also…” He glanced at Wes glowering in the kitchen. “Because I’m not interested in testing the whole ‘shoot the messenger’ thing, I’ve changed my mind. I won’t mention to your brother that you’re living with a guy you just met.”
The door closed behind him, and Wes waited while Cara leaned her head back against the door.
“Did you tell him about your brother’s latest theory? About the housekeeper and poison?”
Cara returned to the kitchen and picked up the letter again. “Chris and Declan have been friends since before college. But if Declan hasn’t filled him in, it’s not my place to tell him.” She picked up the globe and held it close, staring into it, looking for any clue that would explain the letter.
“It’s a terrible Bloom family trait. We don’t trust anyone. Just family.”
Cara was so fixated on the cityscape in the glass bowl, she failed to see Wes’s expression. His lips parted slightly. “You toldme.”
She lifted her eyes to his, still cradling the globe in one hand. “I did.”
“I’m not family,” he pointed out.
What did he want her to say?
That she cared about him?
That she loved him?
Where did that thought come from?
He didn’t want her to say those things.
Did he?
“No, you’re not,” she said, and then disappeared into her room, leaving Wes to stare after her.
What the hell did that mean?
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
The next morning,Cara took her coffee to the deck and watched the trees blow back and forth. Gray clouds scudded across the sky above her. The news forecast a severe thunderstorm for the day, and it suited Cara perfectly. Her robe fastened snugly around her, she stared out at the bleak landscape. She hadn’t slept well.
“You told me.”
“I did.”
“I’m not family.”
“No, you’re not.”
She took a sip of the scalding liquid, almost relishing the burn on her tongue, as she recalled the longing look on his face at her words. It was the closest she could come to telling him how she felt—in a way that wouldn’t destroy their friendship—knowing he couldn’t say it back.
She hadn’t entrusted Chris, a man she’d known most of her life, with Declan’s theory but hadn’t hesitated to tell Wes. It simply felt right… natural. But it was also dangerous. Now, it was as if blinders had been pulled from her eyes, and she could finally be honest with herself about how she felt.
Even if there was nothing she could do about it.
She’d seen the wreckage of her parents’ love affairs. They burned bright, but when they were over… Romantic love was fleeting, bolstered by hormones and endorphins that eventually faded. She valued her relationship with Wes too much to ever risk it on such a transitory thing.
She checked her phone. No text or email from Skye letting her know when production would resume. The first fat, cold raindrops hit her head, chasing her back inside. Wes hadn’t come out of his room yet, and part of her worried he had seen too much in her words last night. Had it scared him off again?
Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she saw it was Declan.
