When Wyatt returned, he seemed to be in a different headspace. Like he was deep in thought about something. Maybe even a little upset. Maybe not upset but at least unsure of something.
Could be a case he was working on. Could be something personal. Whatever it was, Marigold left him alone. She had enough work to do without playing therapist. That was really Charisma’s job anyway. Or at least, that’s what Marigold thought life coaches did.
Most men weren’t talkers anyway. If he wanted to be quiet, she was okay with that. Plus, she liked quiet when there was a lot to be done. Living with an eleven-year-old often meant silence was a rare commodity.
She adjusted the last rose she’d just added. “These really need that special touch,” she said softly to Leah.
Leah nodded and whispered back, “I know.”
Leah was working on shop orders, but Marigold was focusing on centerpieces. They had six more to go.
She fussed with the centerpiece for five more minutes before she realized she just couldn’t leave Wyatt alone. Maybe it was her maternal instincts kicking in, but her curiosity was overwhelming her. “So,” she said nonchalantly, aiming her voice toward him. “How did the delivery go? Did you get a tip?”
He came around to the workroom door and leaned on the frame, making a long, lean line of maleness that was impossible to ignore. Rambling roses, the man was so very well put together. “Oh, I got a tip all right.”
His expression said the tip had not been monetary in nature. She held her breath. “Oh?”
His gaze narrowed. “Mostly that I’d better be nice to you and your daughter, or I’ll be in big trouble.”
Marigold blew out a breath, lifting the hair hanging in her face. “Birdie,” she muttered.
“Then you knew what you were sending me into?”
“No. Not exactly.” She stuck another rose into the centerpiece. “But Birdie can be a little in your face at times—”
“A lot, you mean.”
His arms were crossed, and he was giving her a perturbed look. She smiled, trying to soften the mood. “She’s a lot of everything. But very well meaning, I assure you. And really beloved in this town.”
“Is that because people are afraid of her? Or because her nephew is the sheriff?”
Now was not the time to tell him that Birdie’s other nephew was the fire chief, and that her niece owned Howler’s, the place they’d eaten lunch. “I didn’t know she was going to give you the third degree. I promise.”
All she’d asked Birdie to do was get Wyatt’s fingerprints off the vase and run them. Then do a little digging to see what she could find out about him. That was all. Not lecture him on all things Marigold. But Birdie being Birdie, it was no shocker that she’d taken it upon herself to give Wyatt some unsolicited advice.
“I’ve seen veteran police officers who didn’t interrogate with such ferocity.” He straightened, dropping his arms to his sides. “Speaking of which, that woman gets a look on her face unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I swear if I didn’t know better I’d have thought she was going to bite me if I said the wrong thing.”
Marigold faked a laugh to cover up her sudden horror. “Oh, that Birdie, she wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Mostly because werewolves preferred much bigger prey.
Marigold went back to her centerpiece. “Anyway, I’m sorry about all that. I’ll talk to Birdie.”
“No, don’t. I survived. And part of me likes her a lot. I know how hard it can be working with LEOs, so I give her credit.”
Marigold tipped her head. “LEOs?”
“Law enforcement officers.”
Leah perked up. “So that part of you likes her? What about the other part?”
He laughed. “The rest of me is terrified of her, but let’s keep that between us.”
Leah snorted.
Wyatt shot her an amused look that clearly said all was forgiven. “I’m serious, missy. Not a word of this.”
She crossed a finger over her heart, then held up her hand. “I swear.”
“Good.” Then he looked at Marigold again. “When’s quitting time?”
“You can go any time you like. You’ve really done enough already today.”
His brows rose. “I’ve swept and made one delivery. That doesn’t seem like much help.”
“But it was, really.”
He nodded slowly. “I see. You’re trying to get rid of me.”
“No, I’m not. But I feel guilty that you’re doing all this and not getting anything in return.”
“What else am I going to do? Millersville is pretty boring compared to Nocturne Falls.”
“I’m sure most places seem boring compared to Nocturne Falls.”
“True. Most places don’t have vampires and witches on the streets taking selfies with the tourists.”
She stiffened a little, then made herself relax. Those supernaturals were specifically out there to entertain the tourists. If he’d seen them, it was no big deal. They were meant to be seen. And he’d had a little of the water, so maybe he wasn’t picking up on anything odd. “You know, there’s some great hiking around here. If you’re into that. I am, when I can spare the time. The falls are beautiful.”
“You are trying to get rid of me.”
She laughed. “I promise, I’m not. But there’s a lot more to see of this town than the inside of my shop.”
He shrugged, a sly smile playing on his lips. “I’m pretty happy with the view.”
She glanced at him. He was looking straight at her. He was smooth, she’d give him that. “Well, if you’re going to stay, I’m going to put you to work.”
“Bring it on.”
He was going to wish he hadn’t said that. She got off her stool and went out to where he was standing. “Follow me.”
He did just that as she led him through the shop. “Going back to the cleaning supplies, are we?”
“Not exactly.” She opened the door next to the supply closet. This walk-in closet housed all the vases necessary to fulfill the many orders that arrived by phone and computer daily. They were everything from the clear, inexpensive glass ginger jars that were included with a dozen budget roses to the cut crystal vases that proudly held most Valentine’s Day bouquets.
And then there were the cheery mugs that proclaimed their purpose through their printed sayings. Get Well, Happy Birthday, It’s A Girl…the list went on.
She turned to him, the closet at her back. “All of these need to be cleaned. If dust is left to accumulate, it builds up and clouds the glass. Plus, it makes more work for us when an order needs to be filled.
He stared at the inventory behind her. “All of that looks very breakable.”
She nodded. “It is. So I suggest you take your time and do it carefully.”
“Maybe I should call it a day.”
She smirked. “A little on the clumsy side, huh?”
“No.” He took a beat. “Maybe.”
She started to shut the door. “If it’s too much for you…”
“No, I can do it.” He grabbed for the door and ended up putting his hand over hers.
The warmth of his hand felt nice. And the move put them face to face, so close a daisy wouldn’t have fit between them. Her lips parted to tell him…something.
Then his mouth covered hers in a gentle kiss that sent the most delicious ripples of pleasure through her. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had kissed her. His lips were as soft as rose petals, and the feel of them made her knees buckle.
She leaned into him, kissing him back just a little. She remembered this feeling. The way her stomach went all light and floaty and the world slowed down and a funny little trilling sounded in her ears. Actually, she didn’t remember that last part.
“Marigold.” Leah’s voice rang out through the shop. “Your phone is ringing.”
Marigold jerked back, the moment gone. The ripples of pleasure remained, however, while some of them turned to embarrassment. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Wyatt was still mere inches away and seemed in no hurry to change that. “Shown me the closet?”
She pushed some hair off her face. The doorjamb was behind her. There was really no way for her to back up. “You know what I mean.”
“I kissed you.” He brushed his mouth across hers again. “Like that.”
Her next breath was a ragged inhale that must have announced to him how affected she was by his presence. “My, uh, phone is ringing.”
He stepped back. “So it is.”
Twelve inches. Maybe eleven. That was all the space he’d put between them. And yet, somehow, it was too far.
She was losing it. Over a man who wasn’t interested in anything more than passing the time. And who might potentially be working with Tim to get custody of Saffie. Wow, she was desperate and sad. She marched toward her phone. Time to snap out of it.
She grabbed the phone, saw it was Birdie, and hit answer. “Hey. What’s new?”
“I did a deep dive on Mr. West.”
“And?” Despite being a little angry at herself for that kiss, Marigold held her breath. She didn’t want him to be a bad guy.
“He’s clean.”
She exhaled. “Okay. Good. But how can you be sure?”
“I can’t be completely. But I looked into his financial records and—”
“Are you allowed to do that?”
“Did you want to know if he was being paid by your ex to dig up info on you and Saffie or not?”
“Yes, but I guess I didn’t realize what that would entail.” Marigold also realized that most of what Birdie told her, she was going to have to keep to herself. That or explain to Wyatt how she knew so much.
“Now you know.”
“I suppose.” Marigold hesitated. What was done was done. “What else?”
“He’s working for a woman named Suzanne Anderson. She’s a witch. No clue what kind of powers or how skilled. There’s not a lot on her.”
Marigold walked into the workroom, putting more distance between herself and Wyatt. She lowered her voice a little too. “He can’t know what she is. He’s human.”
“I don’t think he knows. He was a very well-respected police officer and detective. He had an accident—”
“I know about that.”
“Medical reports show he’s deaf in one ear. The left one.”
“Holy holly, how deep did you go?”
“You know me. I don’t leave stones unturned.”
“Apparently.”
“He grew up in the foster care system. Did you know that?”
“I did.”
“Eighteen homes in thirteen years.”
The breath left Marigold’s body for a moment. She put her hand on the table to steady herself. “Oh.”
“Yes,” Birdie whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “That poor boy had no childhood. Not being shuffled around like that.”
Marigold blinked back tears. “That’s awful.”
“The most awful,” Birdie confirmed. “His parents were killed in a car accident when he was four. His aunt took custody of him, but found out she had cancer six months later. The fact that this man became a cop instead of a criminal is plumb amazing.”
Marigold nodded. “Agreed.”
“I’ll tell you something else,” Birdie offered. “I don’t believe in my heart that this man would ever do anything against a child. Your ex might have hired someone to dig into Saffie’s life, but it’s not Wyatt. You can take that to the bank.”
“I believe you.” But then, what had Newt been talking about? “Hey, there’s someone else I need you to look into.”
“Name?”
“Newton Mathers.”