took another sip of her iced tea and watched as Zach finished loading the dishwasher. She had to admit, she could get used to this, sharing cooking responsibilities with a good-looking man and then watching him clean up the kitchen. Silly, but one of her fantasies about Zach used to include this scenario. Most people might laugh at something so mundane, but she’d always been different when it came to the things she wanted. At least until she’d stopped dreaming and fantasizing about anything at all.
She shook off those thoughts. She had learned the hard way that dwelling on them led to even bigger problems. Zach was here now. What the future held, she didn’t know, and refused to even speculate on.
They had kept the conversation light during dinner, talking about the mundane or world events. Nothing personal was discussed, for which she was grateful. Though there was a huge part of her that wanted to tell him about the letters and her grandfather’s suspicions, she forced herself to stay quiet. Maybe after she talked with Harlan Mosby tomorrow, she would know where to focus her investigation next. Having the current police chief’s support would be essential, since she would want to see police and autopsy reports. After her visit with Mosby, she would tell him.
For now, she focused on the fact that a man who had fascinated her from the moment she saw him was standing in her kitchen. And her fascination hadn’t lessened. Last night had proven that. She didn’t know what she felt for Zach anymore, but the desire was definitely still there.
He pulled out a chair and sat at the table across from her. “How’s the packing going?”
The opening was there if she would take it. Telling him about what she’d found in her grandfather’s letters was the perfect opportunity to discuss the investigation she had launched.
“I’m still working on Granddad’s library. I didn’t feel much like packing today, so I spent a lot of time in the guesthouse.”
Slumping down lower in his chair, Zach crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest in a relaxed pose. Savannah was instantly diverted. Memories rushed over her of last night and how he’d carried her upstairs after they’d made love on the stairway. So strong, so very hard. She swallowed.
“Lots of old stuff stored there?”
She jerked back to the present. “What?”
“The guesthouse. Did you find a lot of stuff there you’re going to have to get rid of?”
“Not really. Most of that stuff is stored in the attic. There are some antiques and memorabilia that we might donate.” She took a breath. “I did find boxes of letters that my grandfather wrote to my grandmother.”
His mouth curved into that sweet smile she remembered so well. “Did you read them?”
“Some. There are hundreds, maybe thousands. He wrote her from the time he met her until he died.”
“He must have loved her very much.” He stood and, holding out his hand, gave her that same sweet smile. “Let’s go sit on the screen porch and listen to the crickets.”
Unable to resist him or the lure of a quiet, peaceful night, Savannah took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Tomorrow, after her talk with Mosby, she would go to his office and tell him. It would be better to do that anyway—much more businesslike and professional. Tonight she just wanted to be with Zach, the man.
Out on the porch, Savannah headed to the chairs but Zach pulled her to the swing at the end of the porch. As children, she and her sisters would often all three get on the swing and glide. She remembered more than once that they’d gone too high and one or all of them had been knocked off onto the porch. When she was seven years old, she had fallen off and would have been fine if Bri hadn’t fallen on top of her and broken Savannah’s arm.
Still holding her hand, Zach began a slow, steady glide. As if they’d been doing this for years, Savannah put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. The only sounds were the crickets and frogs, the squeak of the old swing, and the distant bark of a dog.
“Tell me about Savannah. Please.”
He had asked her the same question this morning and she had blown him off. Sharing the past ten years with him meant opening up in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to open up to anyone. After he’d left, she