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I’ve gone over and over that night and tried to figure out where it went wrong.” She had been on the boat at Justin’s invitation. She’d regretted visiting the boat and wondered if under different circumstances Justin would still be alive. What if she hadn’t ended their engagement, and instead they had been out that night at a movie? What if they had decided to stay in and have dinner at her place?

      “Maybe the problem is that you’re trying too hard. Putting too much pressure on yourself,” Brady said.

      Relaxing wouldn’t come easily. Brady had an infuriating way of simplifying matters. “Maybe I should take a few days at the spa and see if anything comes to mind.” Her fingernails bit into her hand. “Oh, wait. Everywhere I go, people look at me as if I’m a pariah, so that wouldn’t be fun. I don’t have any money or any clothes and they frown on that at the spa.”

      Her voice was reaching near shrieking. The shaking in her hands gave away how upset she was getting. She went quiet and took several long, deep breaths. Since Justin had died, she’d been teetering on the edge of losing her composure a dozen times a day.

      “Feel better?” Brady asked.

      “No,” she said, snapping at him.

      “Why didn’t you call me when you knew you were in trouble?” Brady asked.

      The question was ridiculous. Brady didn’t want her in his life. He only wanted her around now to help Reilly. “And say what?”

      “That you needed help. I would have come.”

      When Brady had rejected her again at the hospital, she’d written him out of her life permanently. She’d worked up a lot of courage to visit him. He’d shot down her attempts at civility and friendship.

      “I don’t think of you as part of my life anymore.” As a friend. Or as anyone she could count on.

      Brady didn’t respond. She could read his reaction. He was hurt. “Brady—” She hadn’t been trying to throw verbal daggers at him.

      He shook his head. “You’re right. I don’t deserve your friendship.”

      He turned his truck off the road onto a dirt path.

      Susan didn’t have the emotional energy to talk about their crippled relationship. “Where are we going?” she asked, not recognizing the location.

      “My place. I moved.”

      Trees lined both sides of the winding dirt path. No streets signs were posted along the road. The divots in the road made the truck bounce and Brady navigated to avoid downed tree branches. It was not a welcoming place; in fact, it was borderline foreboding. Why had Brady chosen to live here?

      The truck’s headlights illuminated a small cabin at the end of the dirt road. No other lights brightened the area.

      “This is where you live?” she asked. She didn’t see neighbors or other cars.

      “For now.”

      “Alone?” she asked.

      “My landlord has a place farther down the road.”

      Susan squinted into the dark. What road? Choosing to live here was a deliberate way of separating himself from the world.

      She didn’t comment further. As isolated as it was, it was a step up from the trailer park where her mother lived. At least here, she’d be with someone who could protect her if Justin’s murderer made another attempt on her life.

      They climbed out of the car and Brady circled to her side. The man had presence, and Susan was aware of how close he stood even though she couldn’t see him in the dark. He radiated dominance and strength.

      Brady set his hand on her lower back and she shivered. Touching was not a good idea, but Susan couldn’t see where they were and allowed the contact.

      Brady escorted her to the front door, opened it and turned on a light. She was greeted by a tiny, dark space, with mismatched furniture, clothing and other items in general disarray. This wasn’t like him. Military life, with its rules and organization, had suited him.

      What had happened to him? What had happened to her? They had once been happy, in love and with high hopes for the future. Brady had once shown up at the police station to surprise her, tracking her down through Reilly and Haley. Susan had been working with victims on a particularly tough case and he’d been patient and supportive, bringing carryout Chinese food for everyone involved in the case and waiting for her to finish her sketches of the suspects. The case had been a disturbing one and she had been grateful to have Brady with her that night.

      He had been her best friend and he’d walked out of her life. The memory of the past and the events of the night came booming down on her. A sob caught in her throat.

      “Hey, darlin’, everything is fine.” Brady came behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

      He read her emotions even when she tried to suppress them. They’d had a finger-snap close connection from the moment they’d met. Brady could be across a crowded room and with one look, know what she was thinking. That connection had been too much too fast and had burned out. Nothing that hot and intense could burn indefinitely.

      Brady’s fingers rubbed her shoulders, unknotting the tension that had been building since she had woken up on Justin’s boat with his blood on her hands. Brady’s comforting gesture sent pulses of heat over her skin, across her body, pooling in her chest. Her body remembered, and reacted to, his touch. To this day, making love with Brady had been the most amazing intimate experience of her life. The closeness and tenderness she’d shared with him couldn’t be replicated with someone else. She knew. She’d tried, pretended and failed.

      Guilt assailed her for having those thoughts. Shouldn’t she be focused on her grief for Justin, not her anger and unresolved feelings for Brady? Though her romantic feelings for Justin had been gone for some time, he’d been an important part of her life. He deserved respect and remembrance.

      The urge to turn and bury her face against Brady was overwhelming. When he took her in his arms, he made her feel better. Treasured. Loved. Even if it was a charade, it was one he played well. She had believed it and believed him. To reach out and try to reclaim that small bit of happiness was tempting. To press against him, to kiss him, to run her hands over his strong body. The way they’d moved together, made love together and danced together had been in complete harmony. Was it wrong to want a few minutes of relief from the constant ache in her chest?

      She battled her wild emotions, beating them back with a vengeance. It would be wrong to give in to her urges. Susan couldn’t protect her heart if she let Brady hold her. Fool her twice, shame on her. Susan shrugged away his hands. She wouldn’t let herself fall for this again. Her life was chaotic enough.

      “You can’t say everything will be fine. You don’t know how bad it is. I don’t understand why this is happening to me and you can’t possibly explain it.”

      Brady turned her to face him, but didn’t let his hands linger on her. “That’s true. I don’t have any idea what you’ve been through since Justin died.” Was it her imagination or did his voice catch over Justin’s name?

      His eyes drilled into hers. “You and Reilly are good people who got caught in something bad. I think Justin might have had a side he kept secret from you.”

      Justin and Brady didn’t get along and they never had. They tolerated each other and they’d been cordial. Even so, accusing Justin of being two-faced struck her as wrong. She wanted to remember the good things about Justin, not harp on his negative traits.

      “Justin was a good man. What do you think Justin hid from me?” She’d force Brady to back up his words.

      “I’m sure he didn’t tell you everything about his life.”

      “Perhaps, but he didn’t go out of his way to hide anything either,” Susan said.

      “He told you why he left the military?”

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