Deadly Sight by Cindy Dees Page A

for the first time in years, he could really breathe. He tore his mouth away from hers to drag in a big, full breath. And another. Who’d have guessed the simple act of breathing could feel so good? Or furthermore, that kissing this woman would make it so?
    He stared down at her, amazed.
    “What?” she demanded. “Have I grown feathers or something?”
    “Good Lord, no. They didn’t actually use eagle DNA on you, did they?”
    She laughed. “No. It was all my own DNA and stem cells they manipulated.”
    Relieved, he let out his breath. And even that felt good.
    “I think I’m going to be able to sleep now,” she murmured. “I guess I’m going to have to get on a more normal schedule if we’re going to be social with the neighbors.”
    “Hey, it was your idea to set up house,” he replied.
    “When will I quit opening my big mouth and getting into trouble?” she groused.
    “I don’t know about that. I rather liked it when you opened your mouth.”
    Her eyes twinkled merrily. “You have no idea, big guy. No idea at all.”
    And maybe the images her comment conjured were why he stumbled as he let her push him backward out of her room. He stood in front of her closed door and stared at it for a long time. What had just happened to him? For a moment there, he’d almost felt...normal.
    Except he of all people was anything but normal. He was Humpty Dumpty. Irrecoverably, irretrievably broken, and nothing and nobody was going to put him back together again.

Chapter 5
    I t felt weird to wake up before noon, but Sammie Jo dutifully dragged herself out of bed and dressed in simple jeans and a sweatshirt. Of course the sweatshirt had a skull and crossbones on it, but it was the best she could do at approaching normal. In a fit of rebellion against suburbia, she chose her steampunk sunglasses, round lenses with leather flaps at the sides that nicely sealed out secondary sunlight.
    Gray was nowhere to be found in the house. She stepped out onto the front porch and was shocked to see him on his knees, efficiently planting her rosebushes. Oh, God. He looked so hot. Who knew he’d wear gardening so well? He was carefully forming mounds of dirt in the holes, spreading the roots out symmetrically, and packing enriched planting soil around them.
    “Where’d you learn how to plant roses properly?” she asked.
    He looked up, a smudge of dirt endearingly tipping his nose. “My granny was a big rose gardener.”
    “Can I help?”
    “Sure. Grab a shovel and dig the next hole.”
    She started digging, the rich smell of warm earth rising around her. It was strangely soothing.
    “Nice shades,” he commented.
    “Thanks. Personal faves of mine.”
    “Your eyes doing okay?”
    She smiled at his concern. “Fine. These are super dark and the leather flaps—” She broke off as a trio of police cars rounded the corner fast, lights flashing, but sirens silenced. The vehicles raced past, drove up the hill at the back of the neighborhood and stopped in front of the last house, parking in a defensive formation.
    “What’s that about?” she asked under her breath.
    “Don’t know.”
    They planted another rosebush as a half dozen sheriff’s deputies surged out of their cars and clustered at the front door of a red brick ranch that looked like every other house in this neighborhood.
    On cue, Maddie Mercer stepped out on her front porch in a housedress and slippers to watch the show.
    “Back in a sec,” Sammie Jo murmured. She strolled over to join the woman, wiping dirt off her hands onto her jeans as she went. “Hey, Miss Maddie. Any idea what’s going on?”
    The older woman gave her an arch look. “Word has it a young man was found dead.”
    “Right there in that house?” Sammie Jo asked in mock horror.
    “Oh, no. He was found back up in the hollers a ways. Probably a fight over a moonshine still. This is a dry county, you know.”
    Sammie Jo acted appropriately scandalized. “Then why are the police at that