Deadly Beginnings Read Online Free Page B

settled into a silent bout of rock skipping, broken only by her soft laughter. He watched her relax bit by bit as they finally sat on the large boulders beside the lake and went from skipping rocks to tossing them into the edge of the lake.
    “I wish it wasn’t so cold. I’d love to go swimming.”
    He simply watched her, leaning back on his elbows. “You like swimming? Are you as good at swimming as you are at skipping rocks?”
    “Much, much better,” she said, smiling at him. He wanted to see her smile, loved the way her dimple pitted her cheek, the way her eyes lit up when she let herself relax.
    Jock remained relaxed and finally said, “Pray tell, fair Katherine, what are you doing here?”
    “It’s Kaitlyn,” she said, climbing off the boulder to toss another rock in. “Not Katherine.”
    Kaitlyn . . . Better than Katherine, but she was Kaitie in his mind. Had been from the moment he’d heard the doc call her Katherine.
    “Apologies, I thought it was Katherine.”
    She shook her head. “Nope. That’s what he wanted it to be. Kaitlyn sounded too . . . something for him.”
    He opened his mouth to ask if the doc was the one who left the bruises on her, but he didn’t want to press her. “Kaitlyn’s a beautiful name, for a lovely nymph. Though you look more like a Kaitie.”
    She arched a brow. “Nymph? I’d never have taken you for a poet, Kinncaid.”
    He reached over and picked up the book he’d had earlier and wiggled it. “I’m more than I seem.”
    “Yeats?” she asked. “Really? ‘There are no strangers, only friends you have not yet met.’” She reached for the slim volume but then stilled her outstretched hand.
    Jock saw the bruise on her wrist as well. He bit down and took a deep breath. “Yes, I like him, and Keats. Don’t get a lot of time to read though.”
    He handed her the book when she started to withdraw her hand. He wanted to reach for her but didn’t want to scare her. She seemed on the verge of something and he liked her relaxed and smiling.
    “Why’s that, then?” she asked.
    He caught the slight lilt in her words again. Ireland? Scotland? He wasn’t sure, and it was so light he might not have caught it at all.
    “I’m a busy man.”
    “Hmmm.” She flipped through his worn book and ran her finger down one poem, then another. “My father liked Yeats, Keats, Joyce, Poe, any poet.”
    “Wise man.”
    She smiled and nodded. “He was, yes.”
    “Was?”
    “My parents died in an auto accident years ago.” She smiled a bit, then shut the book.
    “I’m sorry. Mine did too, along with my younger twin siblings. My sisters.”
    “You never stop missing them, do you? Even when we’re busy building our lives.”
    He reached out and touched her arm, mindful to keep his touch light. “No, we never stop missing them.”
    She looked at his hand on her arm, and he felt her muscles tense beneath his fingers. Watching her, he patted the boulder beside him. “Want to sit?”
    She took a deep breath and shrugged, then sat beside him, setting his book between them.
    Always easy with women, always knowing how to charm or talk to them, Jock found himself wondering how to keep her at ease with him.
    “So, Kaitie, what do you do?”
    “I told you my name is Kaitlyn. What is it with men and wanting to change my name?” she asked him.
    He shrugged. “I have a habit of nicknames.”
    “Odd habit, that one.”
    He grinned. “We all have them. Makes life interesting. What’s a habit you have?”
    She looked out over the water. “I don’t know anymore.”
    “Why?”
    She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “Well, I used to love to study every night.”
    He shook his head. “No, that’s not how you play this game.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “A habit. I have a habit of coming up with nicknames for people. What’s a habit you have?”
    “Well, there is this one . . .”
    “And?”
    “I do it every single day.”
    “Really.” He leaned closer so