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Joel brag more than once that he had cops on his payroll. For all she knew, Nick Brady was waiting for the chance to put a bullet in her head and take the evidence of her death back to Joel. God, Livy, morbid much? The kettle whistled and she poured the boiling water over the grounds in the French press. From the corner of her eye, she studied Nick. It couldn’t hurt to further vet him. Hell, he might even be a decent guy.
    Her earlier assessment had been correct. Under his heavy coat was a body packed with bulky muscle. He towered over her by at least a foot and his jaw seemed to be perpetually squared as though always on the cusp of anger. Dark stubble roughened his face, adding to his hard edge. His lips weren’t too full or too thin. Perfect in Livy’s opinion. He could easily have been a gun for hire, or even one of the members of the Black Death. Imagining him atop a Harley, decked out in leather, wasn’t much of a stretch.
    But his eyes . . . Wow . The brown depths told another story. One that Livy was curious to hear. On the outside, Nick was a rock. But beneath his tough exterior, she sensed something deeper. Further vetting was definitely in order. He could have lied about being a cop, but maybe he really was who he said he was. Having a cop next door could be a good thing. Being from Washington, he couldn’t possibly know who Joel Meecum was and Livy might feel a little safer having him next door. It would be nice to come home from work and not have to deal with the tension that perpetually pulled her shoulders taut.
    Shit. Work.
    Livy put the lid on the carafe and depressed the plunger. She technically didn’t need to be there until the lifts opened at nine, but she’d figured that the lift operators might’ve needed help clearing last night’s snow from the loading areas. She didn’t mind getting up early or doing extra work. Anything was better than sitting home alone, worrying.
    She poured two cups and slid one over toward Nick. “I need to call the mountain. Be right back.”
    â€œThe mountain?” Nick’s voice called after her and Livy dug her phone out of her coat pocket. “One of Frank’s distant cousins?”
    â€œUh, Brundage Mountain,” Livy said with a laugh. “I’m a ski instructor.”
    â€œSo basically, you get paid to hang out at a ski resort all day? Sounds like a sweet gig.”
    As though she was some sort of lodge bunny? Livy dialed the lift supervisor’s cell but only got his voice mail. “Hey, Tim. I’m snowed in so I won’t make it up until around nine. Sorry I can’t help you guys out this morning. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
    Livy clutched her cell tight in her hand and looked around her living room, at the pictures hanging on the walls. Photos she went out and shot in order to keep her mind off the gnawing loneliness that ate away at her. Nick was officially the first person to step inside her house in four years. The first to see the pictures. To have a cup of coffee. The first to have a conversation with her that didn’t revolve around her job. A knot of emotion lodged in her chest, but Livy forced herself to swallow it down. Lonely was better than dead. It had become her mantra, the single thing that kept her going day after day. Offering Nick a cup of coffee to thank him for pushing her out of a snowdrift didn’t change anything.
    â€œYou okay out there?”
    The rumble of Nick’s deep voice broke her from her reverie. She never should have invited him in. Wasn’t he only here for a month, though? What could it hurt to share a cup of coffee or two? This was about her safety, too. She had to know that he was trustworthy. That he wasn’t one of Joel’s goons come to get her. If he checked out, he’d be gone soon enough, and Livy would go back to her relatively isolated existence.
    â€œOh. Yeah.” Nick appeared at the archway that