I licked my candied apple, glancing up when Dylan groaned. “What?”

“It’s the way you close your eyes when your tongue slips out and licks that thing.” He leaned his mouth to my ear. “Puts dirty pictures in my mind.”

“Men.” I rolled my eyes.

He chuckled, bumping my shoulder. “We can’t help ourselves.”

We were at our town’s annual Christmas Festival. Every year on the last weekend in November, we blocked off the main street of town. Artisans and food vendors set up tents, and the merchants decorated their storefronts for the Christmas season. We kicked it off on Saturday morning with a parade, which delivered Santa to his throne, and ended the festivities Sunday night by lighting the large tree in front of town hall.

Usually it was cold and everyone would be bundled up, drinking hot cider. But not this year. We’d only reached sweater weather temps. A cold front was headed our way, though, and I looked forward to it finally feeling like Christmas.

We drew thousands to the event, some from as far away as Georgia, Tennessee, and South Carolina. Dylan had been the officer in charge yesterday, but today he was playing tourist. Even so, his eyes were constantly scanning the crowd, watching for trouble. We’d been doing the festival for twenty-three years now and had never had a problem. I guess his Chicago cop’s mind was used to always being on alert.

We crossed paths with one of his officers, and Dylan stopped to talk to him. I’d eaten my candied apple down to the core and looked around for a garbage can. My gaze fell on a man standing at the corner of a nearby tent, staring at Dylan. Something about the expression on his face caught my attention. My first thought was, if looks could kill… Disturbed by the hatred I saw in the man’s eyes, I tugged on Dylan’s sleeve.

I glanced up at him. “Do you know that guy over there?”

“Where?”

When I turned back, the man was gone. I shrugged, figuring I’d imagined he was glaring at Dylan in particular. “He’s gone. Let’s go see how much money Autumn talked Brian into spending on that carved herd of horses.” They’d come with us but had stopped to talk to an artist about doing a special-order wood piece for their new home. Still disturbed by what I might or might not have seen, I kept my eye out for the man but didn’t see him again. It had to have been my imagination.

Spending the day at Dylan’s side, seeing him at work even when he wasn’t supposed to be working, gave me new insights into the man. It seemed he’d already learned the names of most of Blue Ridge Valley’s residents, and he stopped to talk to each one when we came across them, asking about their kids or grandchildren or even their dog.

Everyone had apparently heard about Daisy, the new police dog, and wanted to know where she was. Unsure how she’d react to crowds, Dylan had left her home. That seemed to be a disappointment to all those wanting to meet her.

It was obvious that the town loved their new police chief. As for me being with him, I was getting mixed reactions. No one said anything, but I was good at reading people’s faces. By the stink eye the single women gave me, they didn’t like that he’d been claimed. I didn’t blame them. What they didn’t know was that they’d have their chance with him once I was gone. That made me want to gouge their eyes out.

“How do you already know everyone’s names and stuff about them?” I asked after a while.

He slung an arm around my shoulder, tugging me closer. “Homework, Red. I’ve done my homework.”

“Well, I for one am impressed.”

“Come over tonight after you get off, and I’ll really impress you.” He peered down at me and waggled his eyebrows, making me laugh.

Too soon it was time for me to go home and get ready to go to work. Dylan walked me to my car, as I’d driven so he could stick around and keep an eye on things. He backed me up to the door, then gave me a searing kiss.

“Will I see you tonight?” he asked when we came up for air.

I put my hand on his jaw. “Looking forward to it.”

He pressed his face against my palm. “Not as much as me.”

I walked out of Dylan’s shower, wearing nothing but a towel. He wasn’t in the bedroom, so I went looking for my sexy man. I found him in the living room, sitting in a leather chair, wearing nothing but the black lounge pants I loved on him.

“Come here, Red.”

“Give me one good reason.”

He cocked a brow, spread his legs, and pointed between them.

I cocked a brow right back at him. “Are you saying there’s something between your legs I might be interested in?”

He smirked. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

Truth. I walked halfway to him, then stopped and dropped the towel, swallowing my own smirk when his breath hitched. Power over a man was a heady thing, and right now, based on how hard he was gripping the arms of his chair and by the heat shimmering in his eyes, I had the power.

“Jenny Girl,” he murmured when I stepped between his legs.

He put his hands on my thighs, pressing his fingers into my skin. His touch, the heat seeping into my pores where Dylan’s palms pressed against me, the way he looked at me… All of it almost brought me to my knees. I didn’t love him. I didn’t.

How many times had I told myself there wasn’t a man in the world who could keep me from making Natalie’s and my dream come true? Not even this man. I did not love him. But I could someday. If he was still around when I came back.

Words tumbled from my mind to the back of my teeth, words that would beg him to wait for me. I somehow managed to stop them. It wouldn’t be fair to ask such a thing from this beautiful man who deserved more than a promise that I’d return to him someday.

Dylan couldn’t know that all he’d probably have to do to get me to stay was ask. I blinked away the tears that were burning my eyes, forcing a smile. “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” I said, doing my best to imitate Mae West’s voice in whatever that movie was I’d watched with Autumn.

“It’s definitely not a gun.” Dylan pulled me onto his lap. “Did you have fun today?”

“Yes.” He settled one hand under my hair on the back of my neck while his fingers caressed my breasts, moving from one to the other. It was impossible to think when he touched me like that. I settled against him, resting my head on his shoulder.

His eyes deepened to a dark, shimmering brown. “You’re so damn gorgeous, Jenny Girl.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Chief.”

He leaned toward me, melding our mouths.

His kiss was hot and possessive, and after a few minutes he pulled away, staring at me. It seemed as if he wanted to say something, but then he gave a little shake of his head before standing with me still in his arms. He carried me into his bedroom and made the sweetest love to me, as if I were a precious treasure.

When he fell asleep, I lay there, listening to him breathe. Although I rarely allowed myself to think of the night Natalie died, I let the memory come back. I needed to do it to strengthen my resolve to keep my promise to her.

I knew the end was close, and I spent every second with my twin. I’d crawl in bed with her at night and hold her in my arms. Sometimes we’d cry, other times we’d talk of our dream to travel as soon as she was well. Although I knew better, I desperately wanted her to believe she would. To have hope for a future.

“When we get to Scotland, I want to sneak into a haunted castle,” I said one night, snuggling in bed with her.

“Who’s haunting it?” she asked.

“A sexy, kilt-wearing Highlander lost in time, trying to find his lover. He stands on the castle wall every evening playing his sad song on his bagpipes, hoping she will hear and come to him.” I held a cup of hot chocolate to her lips, letting her sip. “The minute he sees you, though, he’ll forget all about her.”

She laughed, then began to choke. I scooted behind her and massaged her back and shoulders. I’d gotten certified soon after we’d learned she was sick so I would know how to ease the pain in her failing body with soothing massages. “Take a deep breath,” I whispered, moving my hands to her head and neck.

“Maybe we can be ghosts together, him and I.”

I squeezed my eyes shut against the burn of tears. “No, he’s going to take you back in time with him, where you’ll become a hearty Highland lass.”

“Jenn?”

“Yeah?” I didn’t like the sadness I heard in her voice.

“Promise me you’ll travel the world for me, see all the things we’ve talked about. Promise you’ll make our dream come true.”

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her back against my chest. “I swear it, Nat. I’ll make our dream come true if you’ll promise you’ll be with me.”

“I swear it,” she said. “We’re a part of each other. No matter what happens, I’ll always be with you. You’ll feel my spirit with you in all those places you’re going to go. I just know it.”

My identical twin died that night in my arms. I’d made her a deathbed promise, one I had to keep because she’d promised in return that I’d feel her with me in all those places we were supposed to go together.

Vincennes was busy. Many of the tourists who’d come for the festival had stayed on for a few days. Naomi Reeves and Gloria Davenport were seated at the bar, having a glass of wine while waiting for a table. Naomi owned The Valley News, our town’s little weekly newspaper. Mostly it was a gossip rag—who had dinner at the country club, who was getting married or divorced, who died. Gloria was Naomi’s only reporter at-large. No bigger gossips existed east of the Mississippi River than those two.

“I hear you and the new police chief are an item,” Gloria said when I refilled her wineglass.

Twenty years from now, Dylan would still be the new police chief. “We’ve gone out a few times.” That was common knowledge, so no use denying it. I wasn’t about to admit we were an item, or she’d have our wedding announcement in next week’s paper. Gloria nor Naomi worried too much about whether the gossip they reported was true.

Gloria nudged Naomi’s arm. “I got a good picture of them on Sunday. He had his arm around her, and she’s looking up at him like a woman in love. It can be the lead-in to the festival recap.”

Oh God. Just shoot me now. If I tried to talk them out of doing that, it would only make it worse. Leaving them to their plotting, I turned to greet the man sitting next to them.

“What… what can I get for you?” I hoped the man I’d seen staring at Dylan at the festival hadn’t noticed my stutter. He leaned back on the stool and studied me. It made me feel like I was a bug under a microscope. There was something very off about him.

“Whatever you have on draft,” he finally said.

“Sure, coming right up.” The man was handsome—blond hair, blue eyes, built similar to Dylan—but I didn’t like him. His eyes were cold, soulless, and they stayed on me as I filled his mug. He was seriously creeping me out. I put the beer in front of him, hoping he wasn’t staying for dinner.

“What’s your name?”

“Jenn.” The last thing I wanted to do was tell him my name, but he hadn’t actually done anything wrong.

“So, Jenn, you and Dylan Conrad? Are you his girlfriend?” He took a swallow of his beer, his eyes on me over the rim of the mug.

“What’s it to you?” I took a step back, not liking this man at all.

Gloria leaned toward him. “They’re an item. I have the pictures to prove it.”

I shot her a death glare, but she was oblivious, lapping up the chance to dish out the latest gossip. I darted a glance around the bar and wanted to groan. Gloria didn’t have a quiet voice, and our conversation had caught everyone’s interest.

Naomi leaned her head around Gloria. “Do you know our new police chief?”

The man nodded, but his gaze stayed trained on me. I knew down to my bones that he was about to say something I didn’t want to hear. And whatever it was, I especially didn’t want Gloria and Naomi to hear it.

“He killed his wife, Jenn,” he said before I could slap my hand over his mouth. “I’d advise you to be very, very careful where Dylan Conrad’s concerned. I’d hate to see your pretty picture in the obits.” With that, he put a ten on the counter, nodded to Gloria and Naomi, and then walked out.

Naomi and Gloria let out simultaneous gasps. “Biggest news story ever,” Naomi gushed, almost falling off her stool as she twisted around to watch him leave. Then her gaze landed on me. “Who was that man?”

“A crazy person, that’s who.”

“Did he say our new police chief killed his wife?” someone farther down the bar said.

Naomi grabbed Gloria’s arm. “This calls for a special edition.”

“It’s not true,” I yelled as they raced away. Everyone at the bar was staring at me. “It’s not true,” I said again, as much for myself as for them.

I pushed away the whispering voice in my head that asked me how well I knew Dylan. There was no way the man I’d seen fall apart when he’d told me about his wife had killed her.

Dylan needed to know what had happened here tonight. Like right now, before any more damage was done to his reputation. I went looking for Brandy.

“Tell Angelo I have the flu,” I said when I found her, tossing the key to the liquor closet at her. I left without knowing or caring who’d cover the bar for me. I’d never walked out like this before, but I had to get to Dylan. If I got fired for leaving, so be it.