“It’s awfully late for you to be here.” Vaughn stood close to the platform, dressed in street clothes—khaki-colored pants and a white button-down with a necktie that could have been a postmodern painting. A few splashes of color on a black field.
Her heart warmed to see him in spite of all her stern warnings to keep her distance. The tone of his voice skimmed her senses like a caress, hitting all the right places and making her think about kissing him again. It wasn’t fair to feel so physically aware of him when she knew he might not be in a position for a relationship, battling his PTSD issues so hard. But she hadn’t even opened her mouth to speak and she was already tingling with sensual want.
“I had to move the tree trunk into place today so I can do more of the carving on site.” She shuffled aside her notebook and pen. “There comes a point in the process where it becomes risky to move the statue if I’ve already done a lot of detail work.”
“I could have helped you.” He stared up at the trunk and the preliminary branches—mostly raw, uncarved wood in bay laurel to match the trunk. “How did you get it all over here?” He lowered his voice for her ears alone. “You need to be careful while you’re pregnant.”
“I am. I hired a moving company.” She ran her hand up one side of the tree where she’d done a little craving today, notching out some thick bark for texture. Better to touch the tree than the man who tempted her. “And I would have hired your groundskeeper’s sons since they were so helpful with stacking the new wood, but I booked the movers the day I got the commission.”
“It looks great.” He pointed to a carved creature already hiding inside a hollow. “I really like the barn owl.”
She flushed with pleasure at the compliment. “Thank you. I hope to add quite a few birds.” Her birds were popular in the local antiques-and-crafts store, Priceless, where she sold a few of her works. “Although I’m not sure how many I will finish before the summer gala since I’ve realized I want the scale to be bigger.”
“It’s already huge.” Vaughn stepped up on the platform and stretched his arms around the trunk as far as they would go. Less than half way around. “Are you sure?”
“Definitely.” She flipped her notepad up to him so he could see what she’d drawn. “I started making a list of what I want to bring over here, but I ended up making a sketch of the revised branch scheme.”
“I like it.” He nodded, peering up from the sketch to the sculpture in progress. “But how will you notch in all those new branches?”
“That part will be time-consuming,” she admitted. “And since it involves technical craftsmanship as opposed to artistry that will show in the final product, it’s the kind of thing I could hire out if I knew someone skilled in carving.”
Like furniture making, grafting on the branches involved making seamless joints. Fitting pegs into perfectly cut slots.
“I’ll find someone who can help you.” He shifted to sit down beside her on the platform.
His knee brushed hers, the touch sending ripples of awareness along her skin far beyond the point of contact. She’d worn a T-shirt with the simple cotton A-line skirt, a good uniform for a job site since it was comfortable enough while still appearing professional. The lightweight cotton wasn’t much of a barrier for her leg next to his strong thigh. Her throat dried up and she took an extra moment to steel herself against the feel of him.
“That’s all right, Vaughn. I told the art committee that I could finish this project in the allotted time frame, and I will. It just means a few more late nights.” Possibly it meant seeing the handsome doctor a few more times, too.
What woman didn’t enjoy being around a man who made her heart beat faster? Even if he should be off-limits?
“I want to talk to you about that.” His voice was quiet again. Serious. “Have the police spoken to you about taking extra precautions now that they believe Rich Lowell is still alive?”
She hadn’t expected this line of conversation at all. And although she’d been warned to keep the details of the investigation quiet, she guessed Vaughn probably knew more about it than her, considering his TCC connections.
Following his lead, she kept her voice quiet as well, needing to keep the conversation confidential. There was one young couple in the waiting lounge nearby. The woman read a book while the husband snoozed on her shoulder.
“I got a call from a federal agent last week.” She hadn’t known what to make of it at the time. Because as much as she resented Will Sanders’s impersonator, she was unclear how much of a threat he posed to her and the rest of Royal. Yes, he was a horrible person, but she wasn’t sure if he was outright dangerous to her. “She told me the remains delivered for Will Sanders’s funeral did not match Rich’s DNA and that investigators had every reason to believe he was alive.”
“I heard.” Vaughn’s green eyes locked on hers, his expression grim. “Didn’t she tell you to be more careful? What if he tries to contact you?”
At the time of the phone call, Abigail had just read a letter from her mortgage company threatening to start foreclosure proceedings if she missed another month’s payment, so she may not have been as focused as she should have been.
Her life was so far from where she wanted it to be for her child. Guilt nipped. She touched her expanding belly, the smooth curve of new life more evident when she was seated.
“The agent told me not to reach out to him. And asked again if I had any idea of his whereabouts.” She shook her head, remembering
