Page 94 of One Last Stand

She’d listened with a grim look as Moose spoke to Shep on speakerphone.

Now, Moose ran his hands down his face.Aw,he hated this. “We haven’t gotten the fire report back yet. What if it was arson? What if someone is trying to kill you?”

“Like who, Moose? Rigger is dead.”

“Like Harry Benton! He threatened me—and everyone I care about—at the courthouse.”

A beat, then, “That’s still playing in your head? C’mon, Moose, the guy was angry, not serious. Most likely, it was my ancient furnace finally giving up the ghost. They said the fire started in the garage.”

“Which might be the easiest place for an arsonist to get in?—”

“Just cool your jets.” She slid off the stool, came over to him.Oh,he liked it when she put her hands on his chest, stepped up to him, into his orbit. The action always settled the swell of emotions swirling inside him.

Like anger. Or frustration.

Panic.

“You’ve let Harry Benton and his words win. He is long gone, back to Illinois. And Hazel and I are fine in your fortress here, so just . . . get on a plane already.”

She and Hazel had moved back in, taking the two guest rooms, and with Axel still hanging out in the basement, a sort of permanent chaperone, it felt like everything might sort itself out.

He still hadn’t come around to asking her again, or maybe for the first time, really, but he would. Soon. Now he wrapped his hands around her upper arms and met her beautiful brown eyes. “Maybe I’ll call Oaken and see if he can come over.”

“What’s he going to do, hit Benton over the head with his guitar? I have more personal security skills in my pinky toe than he does in his entire toned, cover-model body. Seriously.”

Probably, and that made him smile a little.

“There it is, the Moose smile that makes the whole world feel better. No wonder Shep called you.” She looped her hands up around his neck. “He seems pretty freaked out. And that isnotShep. He doesn’t unravel.”

“No, he doesn’t,” he said. “But if you went missing . . . oh wait, you were. . . .”

She narrowed her eyes, and he leaned down, his lips just a whisper from hers. “And I unraveled.”

“And then you found me.” She lifted herself up to kiss him.

Technically, she’d foundhim, but he wasn’t going to argue. Not when she tasted of coffee, smelled of something floral, maybe her shampoo, and felt so perfect and right in his arms. Like she’d always belonged.

Should always belong.

Tillie, please marry me.

The question lingered in his chest as she deepened her kiss.

Oh. Boy.

And yep, that’s when his brother’s footsteps sounded on the stairway from the basement.

Tillie let Moose go and stepped back just as the basement door opened.

“I knew it. As soon as Tillie moved in, it’s like, ‘What’s around door number one? A little snoggin’?’ You guys need to hang a sock on the doorknob or something.”

“No sock needed,” Moose said, and stepped away. “But maybe we should attach a bell to you.”

“Yeah.Meow. Meow. Just marry her already.” Axel came over to the fridge and opened it, grabbing the milk.

But Tillie had gone quiet, glancing at Moose, and he’d put a hand around his neck and . . .shoot.Bad timing, again.

Axel shut the fridge door. Glanced at the couple. “Something I’m missing?”