An hour ago, she’d been convinced she was going to spend the rest of her life in prison. Now she was shopping in a mall. The shift left her reeling. It was as if she wasn’t living her own usually boring life anymore, especially with Eban being here too. How often had she longed for him to visit her? How often had he made one excuse after another?

The fact it had taken someone’s murder to get him here probably told her exactly how interested he was on a personal level. Yet, despite him telling her they couldn’t get intimately involved, he was often the one who instigated their frequent phone conversations. He was the one who insisted on staying involved in her life.

Their relationship was complicated, and he sent her mixed signals. But Darby didn’t ever want to lose Eban’s friendship, which meant she needed to not push him about feelings he might not reciprocate. Plus, she had bigger issues to deal with right now than her love life.

Without his sense of responsibility and care, she’d probably still be rotting in that jail cell.

The clerk came back with a smile on his face and handed her the matching boot. “Here you go.”

She smiled back and he gave her some space. Darby pulled on the second winter boot. It was lined with lambswool and had a fake fur trim and furry pom-poms on the end of the laces that danced as she walked. She stared at herself in the mirror. These were way sexier and more fun than anything she’d ever bought before. Usually, her boots were utilitarian and hardwearing. They were no-nonsense and practical, bought for their ruggedness and temperature rating for survival purposes in the field.

Hopefully, she’d get her other snow boots back from the police soon.

She flexed her feet and walked to the front of the store. These boots felt supple and warm with a thick enough sole to keep out the worst of the cold. They made her look cute and feel frivolous. Like someone who hadn’t just been accused of murder.

“These fit great. I’ll take them. Thanks.” She added a few pairs of good warm woolen socks to the pile and a cream woolen hat with a bobble and matching mitts. The cops must have her winter hat or it was in her truck. Anyway, she’d always wanted a hat with a bobble but had never had the nerve before.

How pathetic was that? To not even have the nerve to wear the sort of clothing she secretly craved?

“Ready?”

She jumped and whirled in surprise. Eban stood there and she blinked at him.

He was so handsome. Shiny black hair that was cut short enough to hide its inclination to curl and eyes such a rich shade of dark brown she couldn’t tell where the pupils began and ended. He hadn’t shaved today and already sported a five o’clock shadow that tomorrow would be a beard. His skin was pale under the bright lighting—almost as pale as hers. He reminded her of some mythical Welsh prince.