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“Anyway, after that I realized that I had to work and he needed ’round-the-clock care. Working at Pine Meadow was a way to do both. They offered a great employee discount on the rent, and I could check in on him during the day. It allowed us to still be close while keeping him safe.”

“Did you want to leave the hospital?”

“Not at first,” she admits. “I loved my job. But after a few weeks of working at Pine Meadow, I found a purpose again. A lot of those people were lonely, and I had a hand in making them less so.”

The passion in her voice as she speaks is enough to tell me that she’s being honest. She truly loved her job there, and more importantly, she loved the residents. Making the idea that she stole pills, administered too much to a patient, then drove herself off a bridge, even more far-fetched.

Dahlia Swanson loved her job.

She grieved her grandfather, yes, but she loved her life.

“It hurts to think I may not get to go back.”

“We will clear your name,” I tell her. “Then they’ll take you back.”

“I hope so,” she replies softly. “Thanks, Mr. Granger. Seriously. I mean, I know you’re doing it because I hired you, but⁠—”

“I’m not helping because you hired me. I have no intention of taking your money.” I glance over at her.

“What? Why? I hired you. You have to let me pay you for your help.” A line forms between her brows, and she adjusts her glasses. Once again, the simple action is ridiculously adorable. It has me wishing her glasses would slide down just so she’d repeat it.

“You asked for my help, and I agreed. I don’t need the money, and you need the help.”

I guide my truck down Momma Knox’s street, then park beside Weston’s truck. After I turn off the ignition, I climb out and come around to open her door.

“But it could be dangerous.”

“Danger happens to be a specialty of mine, Miss Swanson.”

Her gaze locks on mine, almost as if she’s seeking the truth behind my words. “You have to let me pay you, Mr. Granger. It’s not right if you don’t.”

“First of all, it’s Ryker, not Mr. Granger. Second, I can do whatever I wish with my time. I’m between jobs and have nothing to do. You’re honestly saving me from a couple of weeks sitting in the coffee shop twiddling my thumbs and having to listen to Sawyer go on and on about how I need to get out more, or I’ll never meet a nice girl.”

The corners of her lips lift slightly. “I haven’t ever heard anyone besides my grandfather use the phrase ‘twiddling my thumbs.’ How old are you exactly?” The tone of her question tells me it’s meant more as a joke than an actual inquiry.

“I’ve always been told I seemed a lot older than my age.”

“My mom always said the same thing about me,” she replies with another smile. After a moment, it fades slightly. “I really do appreciate it, Ryker. But I would feel better if you let me pay you. Please, I don’t even know what we’re getting into.”

Even though I have no intention of taking her money, I also get the feeling she won’t let it slide unless I give her the impression I might. “We can discuss it once we have some answers, okay?”

She sighs. “Okay. Deal.” Instead of getting out of the truck, though, she holds out her hand.

I study it for the span of a heartbeat before accepting the handshake. And the moment her slight hand is in mine, I instantly regret it. Keeping things professional is the only way to make this work, but there’s an attraction burning in my gut I hadn’t expected.

And if I don’t check it, it’s going to become a major problem.

Chapter 9

Dahlia

The moment we step into the quaint home, I can feel love pouring out of every single nook and cranny. It overflows with it as laughter carries down the hall toward us. I step aside so Ryker can lead, then follow him down the picture-lined hall.

From back here, I can appreciate the way he moves. The strength in every step. I just need to remind myself to stay focused on why he’s helping me. I’ve always been a romantic at heart, desperate for a family of my own, but pretending this is anything but business will break my heart—that much I do know.

“Look here! The party has finally arrived!” a man says loudly as Ryker steps out of the entry hall and into a wide-open living space. I move slightly to the side so I can see as well.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you say that to everyone who walks through the door,” Ryker replies.