Colton Christmas Protector (The Coltons of Texas #12)(36)
He arched an eyebrow and curled up a corner of his mouth. “Going somewhere?”
She opened her mouth to tell him how busy her schedule was, then snapped it closed again as it fully dawned on her what being sequestered in his lake house meant. She was essentially a captive. Until the threat to her and to Nicholas was removed, she didn’t dare go anywhere near her usual haunts. Her shoulders drooped. “Oh. Right.”
He selected a folder titled Family Photos and began opening files.
“Um...” Penelope frowned her curiosity at him. “Strange place to start. You’re thinking our Christmas photos from years past hide some encrypted secrets?”
“If you had something you didn’t want anyone else to run across accidentally would you save it in a file called Private or called Summer Vacation Photos?”
“Your theory being a file called Private or Personal screams juicy reading and invites invasion.”
“Exactly.”
“While Family Photos—” she watched him click through a series of humdrum stilted pictures of holiday dinners, awards presentations and ski trips taken before her mother got sick “—are every bit as boring as the cliché.”
He scrolled a bit further through the pictures before closing the file. “Well, that appears to be what it claims, so we’ll save the walk down memory lane for later.”
She stood and stretched her back. “Surely there is something else I can be doing to help besides hovering over your shoulder.”
He spun his chair to face her, the lines bracketing his deep blue eyes giving a clue to his own fatigue. “Truthfully, Pen, I think the best thing for you is to try to get some sleep. We’ll have plenty of time tomorrow to search files and read documents.”
“Does that mean you’re going to bed soon, too? Because I don’t want to be pushed aside on this. He is my father. I was shot at today, too. And Andrew was my husband. If my dad had anything to do with Andrew’s death, if there’s any connection to what happened to us today...” She squared her shoulders, firming her resolve. “I have a right to be part of bringing him to justice.”
Chapter 11
Morning came early for Pen the next day. Nicholas woke before sunrise and, finding himself in an unfamiliar bed, called out for her rather than falling back asleep as he usually did. She hurried to reassure him before his cries woke Reid. After changing his diaper, she brought him into the twin bed she’d been sleeping in and cuddled him close. She tried to encourage him to fall back asleep, which he finally did about thirty minutes later. By then, she was wide-awake and her thoughts were spinning. Her body ached, especially her head, no doubt thanks to the knock it took when Reid shoved her out of the line of fire yesterday.
A quiver rolled through her, though she couldn’t say for sure if it was from the winter-morning chill in the room, the reminder of the shooting or the idea of being sequestered with Reid Colton. Probably a combination of the three.
Easing out from under her son’s sleepy embrace, she tiptoed to the bathroom, hoping to grab a shower before Nicholas woke again. But before she could start the spray warming, the scent of fresh brewed coffee found her and like a heat-seeking missile, she found herself staggering into the kitchen in search of the promised caffeine.
Reid was standing in the kitchen in a pair of sleep pants slung low on his hips. Only a pair of sleep pants. His feet were bare, as was his chest, and Penelope couldn’t say which intrigued and tantalized her more.
“There’s fresh coffee, if you want some,” he said without turning. Considering she hadn’t spoken, hadn’t made any significant noise in her bare feet, she wondered how he’d known she was there.
“And I bought three different kinds of cereal yesterday, along with a bag of powdered-sugar donuts and some fresh fruit.” He glanced over his shoulder then, and his gaze traveled the length of her in a manner that felt uncomfortably intimate.
Penelope tugged the edges of her cardigan together at her sternum and cleared the morning frog from her throat. “Coffee sound great. Thanks.”
“What will the tyke eat? I bought eggs, too. I could scramble one up for him.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Based on your steak experiment last night, I think I should do the cooking around here.” She paused when he grinned, then slugged him in the arm. “You rat! That was your plan. Convince me you suck at cooking so I do all of it?”
The taut muscles and warm skin she encountered with her play-punch didn’t escape her notice. She tucked her hands under her armpits, pretending to be miffed, but using the time to tamp down the tingle in her fist that spread to her belly.
He choked on a sip of his coffee. “What? No!” He laughed as he shook his head. “I swear I would not waste good beef that way. If I wanted you to do all the cooking, I’d just say, ‘Pen, I don’t know squat about the kitchen. If you want edible food, you should do all the cooking.’”
She narrowed her eyes and gave a mock growl. “Eggs are easy. I’ll teach you. As for Nicholas, he’ll be thrilled with some dry cereal he can snack on from a cup.”
“In that case, what do you say we get busy going through files?” He carried his coffee into the next room where he’d already logged on to his laptop.
Cradling her own mug of joe between her hands, she scooted a chair up next to his desk chair to read over his shoulder. “A second computer would be nice. We could go through this stuff twice as quickly.”