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Matt pulled her into his arms and covered them both with blankets. Kaitlin settled easily with her head on his chest. Sleep came effortlessly after that, wrapped in warmth and unexpected comfort. Kaitlin drifted off to the steady rhythm of Matt’s heartbeat beneath her cheek.
Morning light filtered through east-facing windows, creating patterns across rumpled sheets and entwined limbs. Kaitlin woke gradually, momentarily disoriented by unfamiliar surroundings before remembering the night’s events. Matt slept beside her, one arm flung above his head, his profile relaxed in a way she’d never seen during waking hours.
She studied him with unhurried curiosity. There was a faint scar above his eyebrow she hadn’t noticed before, a slight curl to his hair when free of its usual professional styling, and the column of his throat was strong where her lips had explored hours earlier. There was a vulnerability in observing someone in sleep that felt almost intrusive, yet she couldn’t look away.
As if sensing her scrutiny, Matt’s eyes opened. A slow smile spread across his features.
“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep. “You’re still here.”
“Did you expect me to sneak out at dawn?” Kaitlin teased.
“Wouldn’t have surprised me. But I’m glad you stayed.” Matt stretched, his muscles visible beneath skin she’d mapped with hands and mouth hours earlier.
Matt rolled to face her fully and propped himself on one elbow to mirror her. The sincerity in his voice prompted a strange flutter in her chest. She traced the line of his collarbone with one finger to deflect the emotion with touch.
Matt captured her wandering hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Just trying to get to know you better.”
“And do you?”
The question emerged more vulnerable than she’d intended.
Matt’s expression grew thoughtful, and his thumb traced circles on her wrist where her pulse beat steadily.
“I’m starting to,” he said finally. “Though I wish I’d tried harder from the beginning instead of seeing you as just another outsider passing through.”
“Is that how you see me? As just passing through?” Kaitlin wasn’t sure why the categorization bothered her. It was accurate, after all. Her research would eventually conclude, or her money would run out, and her purpose on the island would be fulfilled or abandoned.
Matt sighed and released her hand to run fingers through his tousled hair. “I never meant it to be personal. It’s just based on my experience. People come to the island for a season, maybe two, and they leave. Those of us who stay… we learn not to invest too deeply in connections that won’t last.”
“That sounds lonely,” Kaitlin observed softly.
“Yeah. It can be.” Matt’s admission carried a distance that extended into all aspects of his life. “But it’s also realistic. This place isn’t for everyone.”
Kaitlin understood the self-protective instinct behind it. “So you maintain a healthy mistrust of all newcomers? Is that it?”
“Not mistrust exactly. Just… caution.” Matt’s gaze met hers directly.
“So you still consider me suspicious?”
Matt laughed, the sound unexpectedly boyish. “If you were a suspect, I’ve just committed several serious ethical violations.”
Kaitlin shifted to sit up against the headboard and pull the sheet up across her chest. “You’ve lived here your whole life. You know things about the island, about the mansion, things you haven’t shared. I find that to be suspicious,” she countered.
“Fair point.” Matt sat up beside her, apparently untroubled by his nudity. “It’s unsettling for me to be suspicious of an island resident for something like this. For murder. I like to trust the people I know.”
“Or for setting fire to a records room? I have my own ideas on that matter. That and the snake.” She shuddered involuntarily.
“Oh, and who do you think had a hand in it?”
Kaitlin felt a flash of defensiveness. “It’s unproven. I didn’t want to bias your perspective with theories I can’t substantiate.”
“Yet you shared them with Reid Cook?” The question emerged more neutral than accusatory, but Kaitlin didn’t miss the undercurrent of jealousy.
“I didn’t share anything with Cook,” she corrected firmly. “And after discovering his relation to Dr. Whitaker, I’m glad I kept my theories to myself.”
Matt became fully alert. “What?”
“After my appointment yesterday, I went for a walk to Dr. Whitaker’s Portland address. I got it from the files. Cook actually came out of the house. That’s where I met him,” Kaitlin explained, drawing the sheet more securely around herself as she settled into the pillows. “At first, I thought he’d gone to interview Dr. Whitaker’s family. But while you were meeting, I did an internet search. Reid Cook is Dr. Whitaker’s grandson. And to top it off, my source told me there was some kind of scandal when Whitaker died, and there’s speculation it’s why he committed suicide.”
