In the Crossfire (Bloodhaven) Read Online Free PDF Page A

had gotten hurt while exploring.
    So yeah, Isobel knew the shack had been in terrible condition. But if Liam insisted on living in it and was willing to care for the property in turn, she certainly wasn’t going to turn him down.
    Still, to assuage her guilt, she’d mentioned offhandedly to Liam that he could borrow some of her tools to repair the shack if he wanted. She had no such tools, of course; she went to the hardware store and bought whatever tools looked marginally useful, and lent those to him.
    She’d been impressed to observe, over the course of a few months, Liam not only managing to stabilize the flimsy shack but also repairing and building upon it to make it into the snug cabin it was today. It would never be anything more than a bachelor pad for a man with little interest in accumulating belongings, but Isobel never heard a word of complaint from Liam about it.
    The property wasn’t huge, and taking care of it wasn’t a full-time job. It hadn’t been long before Liam politely asked Isobel if he could hang on to her tools until he’d purchased his own. She’d told him to keep them. Hell, it wasn’t as if she was going to use them herself.
    Liam consequently set up an area next to his cabin where—when he wasn’t busy with groundskeeping duties—he worked on his carpentry. He began quietly making a few exquisitely handcrafted chairs for a furniture shop in downtown Bloodhaven. The quality of his work was such that word quickly spread among interior designers who catered to a specific type of clientele. Namely, the type that was only too willing to pay top-dollar for such one-of-a-kind exclusives.
    Yet despite the fact that Liam could’ve easily turned this into a lucrative business—and according to his file, he actually had, back before the war—he still used the owner of that same furniture shop as his only distributor.
    It made some sort of sense, Isobel supposed. She couldn’t picture him trying to deal with the public himself.
    He still kept everything pared down to a minimum. He did buy more tools to help with his work, and apparently managed to score a battered old truck for when he needed to purchase larger materials or deliver finished products. But his cell phone was prepaid, and he purchased no furniture that hadn’t already been there or that he couldn’t make himself.
    He took on nothing that showed signs of permanence. Nothing that could tie him down, no long-term investments.
    Maybe that shack-turned-cabin was a long-term investment in his eyes. He could’ve slept in a tent or underneath the stars—and from the state of him the first time she’d met Liam, Isobel suspected he’d done plenty of that—but instead, he’d taken the time and energy to improve that cabin. That surely had to say something. Isobel just didn’t know what.
    Still, she had no doubt that if Liam ever found a cave in the middle of nowhere with indoor plumbing, he’d pack his bag and be off in a flash.
    Isobel wondered how he’d handled this afternoon with Naley. She hoped the experience wasn’t enough to send him running. He was bound to leave at some point, she knew. She just wasn’t ready for him to leave just yet.
    She shook her head at the thought, refusing to examine the reason behind it too closely. She had a go-to list to turn to whenever she felt the need. Liam Whelan was decidedly not on that list.
    He was off-limits. Hell, half the time he didn’t even meet her gaze when she spoke to him. And when he did, there was an odd intensity in his eyes, almost as if he was studying her, trying to make sense of her. Maybe committing her to memory for when he’d finally up and leave.
    Inside the garage, Isobel parked her bike and retrieved Naley’s belongings from underneath the seat. She’d made a stop at the girl’s school on the way home, finding her clothes and backpack by the bleachers next to the soccer field. A helpful classmate or coach must’ve put them there, because the clothes had