Page 26 of The Hitman’s Final Job

“I know. And I hate it, because I’ve been attracted to you for longer than I’d like to admit. Years. And it’s actually a relief to say it out loud. I’ve been carrying it around for a long time.”

Vaughn is very still beside me.

“But Rowan … I love him. He’s my best friend, and I would never do anything to jeopardize what we have. Not for anything.” I look at my hands. “He came to me when I didn’t know how to let people in. When I couldn’t figure out how to connect with anyone, Rowan just decided we were friends and didn’t give me a choice about it. He’s the only family I’ve ever had.”

The room is quiet.

Then Vaughn says, simply and without ceremony, “He’s not the only family you have.”

I shift toward him.

“You’re family,” Vaughn says. “Not just Rowan’s. Mine too. You have been for a long time.” He holds my gaze. “I need you to know that. Whatever else is true, that part doesn’t change.”

“I really want to kiss you right now,” I say.

Vaughn freezes, his mouth slightly open, unintentionally tempting me. I have to look away or I won’t be able to do the right thing.

“I’m not going to,” I say. “Because if I start, I won’t be able to stop, and we’ve just agreed on a very sensible course of action, and I’d like to respect that for at least the next five minutes.”

“What if I don’t want to be kissed?” Vaughn says.

The way his lips curl a little at the corners only makes me want to kiss him more.

“Please,” I say. “As if.”

Something breaks in his expression, and he laughs. And just like that, the weight of the last ten minutes, maybe thirteen years, lifts slightly. Not gone. Not resolved. But lighter.

I have more information than I’d like to have, and so does he, and we’ve agreed to do nothing with it, and I am going to be sleeping down the hall from him for the next four weeks while I try to figure out who wants him dead, and the cake is excellent, and Tess was right.

I’m definitely staying for the festival.

NINE

VAUGHN

Three days.

It’s been three days since Silas arrived. Three days since I sat on my couch and told Silas I’m attracted to him, as if it hadn’t been clear enough in Warsaw. You’d think at my age I’d know better, but we agreed we wouldn’t act on it, and that was the end of it.

Spoiler alert: It was not the end of it.

It was, as it turns out, the beginning of what I can only describe as my own personal, bespoke, exquisitely tailored nightmare, because the thing is, agreement or not, Silas is here. He’s here every morning when I come into the kitchen for my first coffee. He’s been coming with me to the lab every day. I don’t even get a break afterward because he insists on helping me cook dinner and then sits with me all evening, asking me questions about my work, the town, and how I came to end up in Pine Ridge.

“Aww, look at you all pretty and healthy.”

I glance up from the box I’m tending in my garden. He’s a few feet away, kneeling by the green beans and … talking to them. He’s also wearing shorts and a tank top that shows how muscled his arms are.

I. Am. In. Hell.

“It’s the first sign of madness, talking to vegetables,” I say.

He turns his face toward me, but I can’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses.

“You have your methods, and I have mine. Not everything is about chemistry, you know.”

I groan. If only there was a lot less chemistry happening in my garden right now.

I’m preparing this box to receive a mix of leafy greens like kale, spinach, and Swiss chard. Planting them in September protects them from summer bolting and results in sweeter flavors.