“You ready for this?” Ethan asked as they walked across the parking lot.
Emma hugged Sutton’s straw beach bag to her chest. She glanced around, trying to ignore the feeling that she was being watched. Every time she left the house she became hyperaware of all the hiding places around her, all the places Becky could be. “Uh-huh,” she said uneasily.
Ethan, who was in a pair of red swim trunks and a T-shirt printed with an old Japanese Godzilla movie poster, grabbed her hand comfortingly. Emma looked around to get her bearings, then led Ethan down a narrow, unlit deer trail. The resort’s lights twinkled occasionally through gaps in the trees, but otherwise it was dark. Scraps of clouds hung in the sky, concealing patches of stars. Emma’s skin felt prickly.
“I hate not knowing where Becky is,” she whispered.
Emma had filled him in on everything shortly after arriving home last night. Ethan had wanted to come over, but Emma put him off, claiming exhaustion. It was only partially true. She also didn’t want Ethan coming over when Thayer was still in the front yard. She hadn’t mentioned that Sutton’s ex was helping Mr. Mercer out, and she didn’t need Ethan getting all weird and jealous about it.
Ethan nodded. “Me, too. But I won’t let her hurt you,” he said firmly, taking her hand.
Emma bit down on her thumbnail, remembering the night at the movie studio when the note had appeared on her car. Whoever had left it had been listening to them talk—she was sure of it. That meant the murderer—Becky—knew that Ethan was in on her secret. Would Becky even hesitate to get rid of Ethan if she needed to?
The thought ripped through her like a bullet, and she stopped in her tracks. “Promise me that you’ll be careful,” she said urgently. “If you see Becky, don’t do anything brave or stupid. She’s dangerous. And I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”
“You won’t lose me,” he said. “It’s going to be okay. As long as we’re together, she can’t hurt us.”
Emma swallowed hard. With Ethan’s arms wrapped around her so protectively, she almost felt safe. “Okay,” she whispered.
Careful, I thought. You can’t afford to let down your guard. Becky is stronger and smarter than she looks.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ethan asked. “About … suspects? What to do about Becky?”
Emma felt a pang of guilt. As much as she needed to focus on the investigation, she had let it consume their relationship. Ethan deserved a night off from playing Nancy Drew. “Let’s just be us for a little bit,” she said, and her heart warmed at the sight of his face lighting up.
“Sounds good to me,” Ethan said, kissing her lightly and melting the tension in her limbs. She leaned into him, loving the way their bodies fit together.
“Come on,” he murmured, taking a step back and pulling her along the path.
The springs were in a small clearing, landscaped with red rocks and lit by floodlights positioned discreetly in the surrounding trees. Steam rose invitingly from the surface. “It’s beautiful, right?” Emma said, turning to Ethan.
But he wasn’t looking around, admiring the landscape. Instead he was staring at her so intently that she blushed.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
She stepped forward silently and touched his cheek, falling under the spell of the still, peaceful evening. Ethan closed his long-lashed eyes, and she traced the line of his jaw, the perfect cupid’s bow of his lips, his cheekbones.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, more urgently this time. Her lips opened against his as his hand coiled into her hair. All other thoughts were swept from her mind. She ran her hands beneath his T-shirt, up the rigid V of his stomach muscles, before pulling the shirt off over his head. He tugged at the tank dress she’d thrown on over her bikini, leaving it on the ground with his shirt.
Their breathing was shallow and quick. She took him by the hand. Slowly, gazing into his eyes, she led him into the springs. The water roiled against her, too hot, almost painful at first. They sat on the stone bench, backs to the side of the pool.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Ethan finally whispered.
She rested her cheek over his heart, feeling its strong pulse in his chest. “So are you,” she said. “I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
“Guys like me are a dime a dozen,” he teased. “What boy doesn’t love poetry and astrophysics?” She laughed softly, but then his eyes became serious. “Emma, you’re the special one. I can’t believe I’ve found you. I can’t believe you’re mine.”
“I’m glad you did,” she murmured. “And I am yours.”
He rested his forehead against hers, gazing directly into her eyes. He took a deep breath. “Emma … I love you.”