Fury pulsed through me as I picked up to a jog.
Lawson grabbed my arm. “You need to pull it together. Going in there like this will freak her out.”
I struggled to get my breathing under control, but each inhale and exhale was painful. “This asshole tried to kill her,” I gritted out.
“And he’s locked up in prison,” Nash reminded me.
“He got out a damned letter. Whatever he sent her today. What else can he do?”
The panic reared up, nearly taking me to my knees.
Lawson’s eyes widened. “You love her.”
My mouth snapped closed. I wasn’t even sure I knew what love was.
“You’re just figuring that out?” Nash clipped. “Of course, he loves her. Roan doesn’t like to spend more than an hour with anyone, and he’s been living in her house for weeks.”
Something shifted in my chest. A painful rearranging of muscle and bone. And as it moved, a deep knowledge settled into place.
I was in love with Aspen Barlow. Her daughter, too. And if anything happened to either of them, I’d never survive.
39
ASPEN
I stared at the flowers on the counter. I didn’t want to touch them. Even to throw them in the trash.
I hated that John was winning. That he still had the power to terrify me. Anger surged so fast and fiercely it nearly stole my breath. And on its heels came a burning behind my eyes—the pressure of tears. But I refused to let them fall.
The bell over the door jingled, and I swung around as if John himself might walk through those doors. But it wasn’t him.
Fury had carved itself into Roan’s face as he stalked toward me. Most people would’ve taken a step back, trembled even. But Roan’s anger was comforting in a way. It told me he cared.
Roan pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” I mumbled into his chest.
I could hear that others had entered the café and tried to extricate myself from Roan’s hold, but he held firm.
“Need a minute.”
His voice was gruff, almost pained, and my heart cracked. But I didn’t move. I let Roan hold me, taking what he needed, assuring himself I was okay.
Finally, Roan slowly let me go. His hand lifted to my cheek, his thumb sweeping back and forth. The callused tip sent a shiver through me. “Need you to be okay.”
“I am,” I promised.
Lawson cleared his throat. “What happened?”
I turned to see him, Nash, and a worried Jonesy and Elsie. Heat hit my cheeks. The last thing I wanted was another scene at The Brew. But I guessed we were past that point. “I got those.” I inclined my head toward the flowers. “But they came with a card.”
Roan moved to the counter where I’d dropped the note. He let out a series of curses that deserved an award. “How?” he gritted out.
Nash pulled out his phone and started texting. “I’ll have someone bring some evidence bags and gloves.”
“God, I hope there are prints,” Lawson said, pulling out his own phone. He tapped a few things on his screen and held it out between us.
It rang a few times before a woman picked up. “Cedar Ridge Floral and Gifts, how can I help you?”
“Hey, Nan. It’s Law. You fill an order for red roses to be delivered to The Brew?”
“Sure did. There a problem?”
Lawson glanced at Roan, whose muscles were strung so tightly it was a miracle he hadn’t ripped something. “How’d that order come in?”
“Mail, actually. Someone sent cash and their own card. Card was sealed. Said it was a surprise for an old friend. What’s going on?”
“You still have the envelope?” Lawson pressed, not answering her question.
Nan was quiet for a moment. “I don’t think so. Came in yesterday. We’ve taken the trash out already.”
Roan’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding.
“I’m going to send someone over to check. Okay?”
“All right, Law,” Nan agreed.
“And put a hold on any flowers going to Aspen Barlow,” Lawson said.
“You need to tell me what’s going on,” Nan pushed.
“You watch the news lately?” he asked.
“You know I don’t want to fill my head with that garbage. I watch my soaps, and that’s it. Plenty of drama there.”
Lawson shook his head. “We’ll explain when we stop by.”
“All right, then,” Nan agreed and hung up.
“Probably the only person in Cedar Ridge who hasn’t seen your face everywhere,” Nash muttered and typed on his phone. “I’ll tell Clint to head over.”
“Who doesn’t check the damned card?” Roan growled.
I turned, pressing a hand to his chest. “It’s not her fault.”
Roan pulled me against him again. I could feel his heart beating against my cheek.
Lawson looked at Jonesy and Elsie. “Did you guys see anyone suspicious around the time the flowers were delivered?”
Jonesy shook his head. “No, but I wasn’t paying real close attention.”
As Lawson turned to Elsie, her gaze dipped, and her cheeks heated. “It was just us in the café. I didn’t see anyone outside,” she mumbled.
Lawson, oblivious to Elsie’s reaction, shifted his focus back to me. “You notice anyone who shouldn’t have been here?”
I frowned. “You think it could be someone here?”
Roan’s hold on me tightened as if he could shield me from the entire world.
“We need to look into every possibility. You’ve gotten a lot of media coverage over the past couple of weeks,” Lawson said.
“Oren was waiting outside this morning,” Roan growled. “And those two damn podcasters are still here.”
Nash’s eyes flared. “Is Oren also dead at this point?”
“Not yet,” Roan gritted out.
“Not helping, Nash,” I chastised.
He sent me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, but that dude is just asking to end up in a shallow grave somewhere.”
I turned in Roan’s arms so I could face him and framed his face in my hands. “Look at me.”
He didn’t at first.
I pressed more firmly against his cheeks, feeling the stubble biting into my palms. “Roan.”
His head dipped, his eyes meeting mine. But he was somewhere else. I stretched up onto my tiptoes and kissed him. I put everything into the kiss, trying to reassure. To comfort.
When I pulled away, my Roan was there again.
He pressed his forehead to mine. “Tender Heart.”
“Don’t do that,” I whispered.
“Do what?”
“Disappear on me.”
Roan pulled back, searching my eyes. “I’m with you. Always.”
“This is making me all sorts of uncomfortable because I feel like you’re about to go find a closet to bang it out,” Nash muttered.
Lawson smacked him upside the head.
“Hey!” Nash rubbed the back of his head. “That hurt.”
Lawson’s phone rang, and he glanced down. Tapping the screen, he put it to his ear. “Hey, Nan. You remember something?”
Lawson’s expression went stony. “Thank you. Just leave it on a table. Don’t touch it again. Clint’s coming over to your place now.”
He disconnected and shoved his phone into his pocket.
“What?” Roan demanded.
Lawson looked at us. “She found the envelope the order came in. There was no return address, but there was a postmark. Jackson.”