her out. I’d lived thirteen years as Maya. But Gibson wasn’t the only thing that had escaped the box and wouldn’t go back in. Callie had, too.
And I had no idea what I was going to do about that.
For about the millionth time, I told myself I should go. This was beyond complicated. It wasn’t safe for me here.
But Gibson wasn’t the only one who knew I was alive. He was right, people were going to dig. If I wanted Callie to stay gone, I’d have to disappear—really disappear. No contact. No ties. I had plenty of places I could go. I knew how to drop off the map. I was good at it.
Maybe I should have been busy wiping down every surface I’d touched to get rid of my fingerprints. But I stayed where I was, sipping coffee on Gibson’s couch. At the very least, I wasn’t going to leave without saying goodbye. Not again.
But if I left, then what? The way rumors flew through this town, the Kendalls had to know about Gibson keeping those photos. That put a great big target on his back. And he’d said June Tucker had exposed the fraud posing as me. Did the judge know that? Who else had been poking around in my case? Cassidy? Gibson said she was a deputy. And Jenny Leland was here. If it got out that she’d said I was alive…
How many people were in danger because of me?
Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths, trying to slow my racing heart. Maybe I wasn’t prepared to face what was at the end of this road.
The front door opened, and Gibson came in, loaded down with grocery bags.
I set my coffee down and stood. “Do you need help with that?”
“I got it.” He brought the bags into the kitchen and set them on the counter.
I followed him in and watched as he started pulling things out. I wanted to help, but I didn’t know where anything went. And he was so gruff. It wasn’t just his gravelly voice and furrowed brow. Even his movements had a rough edge to them. It made me feel like I should stay out of his way.
That, or climb him like a tree.
“I thought you were just getting breakfast?” I asked after he’d emptied the third bag.
“I didn’t know what you’d want.”
He pulled out a bottle of shampoo. Then conditioner, followed by a bagful of toiletries. Pinks, lavenders, flowers. A hairbrush. None of that was for him. He didn’t have a girlfriend. He was stocking up for me.
I felt like a ping-pong ball, bouncing back and forth across the table of indecision. Run. Stay. Run. Stay.
Gibson looked over his shoulder and his eyes flicked up and down. His expression softened and one corner of his mouth lifted. “I kinda went overboard.”
Like magic, that little smile calmed my thundering heart. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
He muttered something that sounded like you’re welcome, then went back to putting things away.
“How about this. You were sweet enough to go to the store, so I’ll make us breakfast.” I stepped closer and hip-checked him out of the way. His head whipped around and he gave me a look I couldn’t read. That damn brow furrow he kept doing made me all melty inside. I had to stop myself from sidling up to him and threading my arms around his waist.
I needed to calm my hormones. Apparently my old crush on Gibson was another thing that hadn’t gone back into the box. It was out in full force, as if it hadn’t been thirteen years since I’d seen him.
But it was totally one-sided. Just like it always had been. He was being nice to me, but I wasn’t getting a hint of attraction from him.
Unless he was trying to hide it.
I sighed and got to work on breakfast. Now I was just making things up. This situation was complicated enough. I didn’t need a bunch of imaginary sexual tension making it worse. Even if the tension wasn’t imaginary for me.
After breakfast, Gibson said he had work to do out in his shop. He brought my bag in from my rental car. He seemed hesitant to let me go outside. Or to leave me alone. Whether it was because he was afraid someone would see me or that I’d leave, I wasn’t sure.
I showered, using the stuff he’d bought for me, and changed into clean clothes. I left his flannel shirt lying on his bed. I