presence. The tiny cemetery was surrounded by a split-rail fence the boys built. All their pets were buried here, dogs, hamsters, and birds. There weren’t many weeds. The area was covered in pine needles and moss. She stepped inside and brushed her hand over a stone with the name Neo and a date scratched into the surface. The boys had held a funeral for the black lab. Afterwards, Shay had run away to the boathouse. Cody was the one who found her and held her while she sobbed.
How could she have walked away from this place, the people and the memories it held? With a sense of sadness, she went back to the house. A cat sat on the back porch watching her. It was huge, its fur white as snow, with eyes green as an emerald.
“Where did you come from?” It didn’t look like a stray. It was big enough to attack a grown man. “Go home, cat. I can’t even sort out my own life.” As if it understood her, the cat darted off the porch and into the woods.
Shay went inside and climbed back into bed, jeans and all. She dreamed of French toast. When she woke, Cody was stepping into the room carrying a tray.
“You made French toast,” she said, staring at the plate. “I thought I was dreaming.”
“Figured you were hungry after climbing that hill. Brunch might be a better welcome than…” his eyes flashed once, hard and dark, “than the one at the tree house.” He set the tray on the bed. “I’m sorry for… for whatever that was.”
Shay let him flounder for a minute, wondering if he hadn’t realized she’d had her tongue in his mouth too, but men let their chivalry run amok sometimes. “I guess we can chalk it up to old memories.”
He looked relieved. “I know you like French toast.” His brow flattened. “Do you still?”
“I love it,” she said, accepting the tray. “I didn’t think there was any bread in the kitchen.”
“I made it at the house.”
“I’m surprised you got past Lachlan.”
“He’s gone. He and Marcas had to get back to their assignments… uh, work.” Cody looked at the bed, but moved to the sofa. He leaned back, tapping his fingers on his thighs.
“Did you eat?”
“No. I wasn’t hungry.” He was watching the plate closely now.
“Changed your mind?”
His eyes lit. “If you feel like sharing.”
They used to share everything. Cody had thought nothing of snatching something from her plate, and vice versa, unless it was a brownie. Brownies were sacred. “I might be persuaded,” she said.
There was the flash in his eyes again, reminding her that they were a long way from kids. “I suppose I should share, since you made it.” She took a bite and moaned. “Maple syrup. Nina used to make French toast for me every Sunday morning.”
Cody gently moved her ankle aside so he could sit. “Not bad, eh?”
“You did good.” The breakfast tasted almost as good as Cody looked. What was wrong with her?
She cut a bite, but he reached out and grabbed the fork. He put the bite in his mouth, nodding as he chewed. “If the PI thing doesn’t work out, think I could become a cook?”
Women would pay Cody MacBain to deliver burnt toast. “I think I’ll need another meal before I decide.”
Between them, they finished six slices of French toast. Shay reached for the orange juice, but Cody had already raised it to his mouth. How easily they were slipping into old routines. Her gaze raked over him, mussed hair to booted feet, and every inch in between. These weren’t old times, the tree house proved that. Things were moving too fast. Going from hating him to… to what? Whatever it was, it scared the heck out of her. She felt her control slipping, felt the urge to sit back and let him take over. Shay had been taking care of herself far too long to let anyone take over.
“Let me check your ankle.” Cody lifted the covers and took her foot in his hand. He unwrapped the elastic bandage, his touch sending tingles through her leg. She’d had more tingles in her body the last twelve hours than she had in the last twelve months.
“Swelling is mostly down. You still need to take it easy for a day or so,” he said.
“I have to get groceries and some clothes. I’ll rest after that.”
“Maybe you can find some clothes in the attic. Nina never throws anything away. You look about the same size you were before.” He looked her over, his gaze slowing at her breasts.
“I think I took everything with me, but I’ll check. It’s hard to tell where my luggage will end up.” Shay moved the tray and slid out of bed.
“You shouldn’t be climbing those stairs. Your ankle will never heal.”
“It’s fine. Thank you for the French toast and for washing my clothes and loaning me your T-shirt and… stuff. I’ll wash them and give them back.”
“Maybe I’d rather you didn’t,” Cody said, brushing against her. “I like how you smell.” His voice was low, laced with something so hot it sent a jolt through her nether regions.
She took a step back. “What are you doing?”
“Damn it, I don’t know. I’ll be downstairs.” He picked up the tray and left without looking at her.
She had to get out of here. Maybe she could go to Leesburg and wait for Renee. A couple of days with her might take the edge off whatever this thing was with Cody. It was ridiculous. He was gorgeous, but she had been around plenty of gorgeous men. They never affected her this way.
After Shay made the bed, she called Mr. Ellis and left a message, giving him the bad news about his table, and then she called Lucy to see if everything was okay with the house. Lucy Bell was ninety, the closest thing Shay had
