After Hours Desire (Forsaken Sons Book 3)

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After Hours Desire (Forsaken Sons Book 3) Page 5

by Elizabeth Lennox


  “Already made that mistake,” she interrupted, lifting her hand in the air.

  He chuckled as he pointed to a stool pushed up to the counter. “Have a seat and I’ll make dinner.”

  She smiled cautiously as she sat. “Do you know how to cook?”

  He smiled as he pulled things out of the fridge, placing them on the counter. “I’m a bachelor. I either cook or starve.”

  She eyed him warily. “Let me clarify. Can you cook well?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not a gourmet chef, but I manage.”

  He took out chicken breasts and she laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” he demanded, rinsing the chicken under the faucet.

  Frankie pointed to the chicken breasts. “You’re a cattle rancher and you’re going to make me chicken?”

  He smiled and she noticed the dimple on the side of his face once again. Damn that dimple! On Lincoln and Janus, his half-brothers, the dimple was just a dimple. But on Kade, that small indentation on his cheek…it did things to her. Crazy things! Like make her stomach quiver with…rapt attention.

  “I like chicken. Besides, this chicken is free range and tastes a hell of a lot better than slaughterhouse hens.” He pointed his knife at her notebook, “Tell me what else you’ve discovered while ensconced in my desk chair all day.”

  Frankie laughed and that was a surprise. In Dallas, he’d made her laugh after an absolutely miserable and exhausting day. What he’d said wasn’t even all that funny! So why was she laughing? Why did she feel so…lighthearted in his presence?

  Insanity, she told herself, and checked her notes.

  “Okay, so I’ve gone through several pages of her notes and…” she glanced up at him. “You really don’t have any idea why this woman left all of this material behind? Why she would spend so much time collecting all this, only to leave it behind?”

  He shrugged as he started chopping vegetables. “I have no idea. She never tried to contact me personally. She simply talked to others around town, asking questions about me.”

  “What kinds of questions?”

  He shrugged and started slicing mushrooms. “She asked what kind of person I was, mostly. Was I mean tempered or fair with my employees.” He selected an onion. “She asked about other people in the area as well, but I’m guessing those questions were camouflage for the real issue. Which was me.”

  “There’s that narcissist thing come out again,” she tssked. “And here I thought you were such a handsome man.”

  He laughed, but continued slicing. “You like me,” he countered. “So, what have you found out?”

  She shifted on her stool, ignored his comment and focused on her notes. “Well, for one thing, I suspect she lives on the east coast somewhere. Or she grew up in that area. Most likely the New England area.”

  “Why do you think that?” he asked, tossing the onions into a pan.

  “Because of some of the phrases she used in her notes.”

  “Like what?”

  It took Frankie a moment to pull her eyes away from Kade again. He looked incredibly sexy standing by the stove cooking. What was it about a man who could cook? Perhaps it was because it was so rare. Which didn’t make sense. There were plenty of men who cooked. Lots of chefs were male. No, it was most likely just…the guy looked hot doing just about anything.

  Clearing her throat, she pulled her eyes away and checked her notebook again. “Well, she said something about ‘pulling a uey’ in the side notes. She even included a smiley face next to that scribble, almost as if she were laughing at herself.”

  A beer appeared next to her hand and she looked up to see him take a long draw from his own bottle. “Thank you,” she replied, grateful and, surprised. Most of the men she dated…or used to date…would have given her a glass of wine. Men tended to assume that women preferred wine. Which could be true. In fact, none of her female friends drank beer, preferring wine. But Frankie hated it. Oh, she could, and did, drink wine to be polite, but she didn’t enjoy it.

  Then that night back in Dallas came to her. She’d been drinking beer that night and…damn it! She had to stop thinking about that night! Or more specifically, she needed to remember her code! And this man definitely didn’t fit into her code!

  “Frankie?” Kade asked.

  Blinking, Frankie looked up, straight into his concerned, silver eyes. “What?”

  “Where did you go?”

  Frankie shook herself, straightening her spine. “Nowhere. I’m right here,” she lied, pushing memories of Dallas out of her mind. Just remember the code, she reminded herself. The code had saved her from so much heartache over the years.

  Kade turned down the heat under the pan and came around to the other side of the counter. “What were you thinking about just now?” he demanded, leaning closer to her.

  “I just…remembered something.” Yeah – she’d remembered all the men she’d investigated over the years. She’d remembered her father, how he’d slip out of the house late at night. Frankie remembered all the times she’d followed him, learning how to keep to the shadows and not get caught. Hence her “code”. She’d vowed never to become involved with a guy who might be a player. And Kade Wilson was definitely handsome enough and wealthy enough to be a player.

  Oh yeah, she’d learned plenty over the years. Her code protected her from heartache. She’d watched her mother deal with Frankie’s father’s affairs. And she saw the anguish on her clients’ features whenever they saw the evidence of their spouse’s infidelities.

  His lips pressed together and he hesitated, looking thoughtfully at her. He must have come to some sort of conclusion because he moved back around to the stove. Picking up a wooden spoon, he stirred the simmering onions.

  “Tell me what else you’ve garnered from the notes,” he urged, keeping his back to her.

  Good, work! A safer subject! She could handle work.

  “Well, she also said something about ‘banging this out’ as opposed to a phrase such as ‘let’s get this done’ or something along those lines.” She took a sip of her beer, then set it carefully down on the counter. “Which also leads me to believe that she’s from New England.’

  He looked up at her curiously. “Certain phrases are exclusive to one area of the country?”

  Frankie shook her head. “Not necessarily exclusive. People grow up in one place then move to another area of the country or the world. Some colloquial phrases become dispersed around the country. But I think it’s safe to assume that this woman grew up in New England, although it’s equally possible she just grew up with someone who lived there. She might not be there any longer.”

  “Okay, fair enough. What else?”

  “I think she’s only in her mid to late twenties.”

  A dark, amused eyebrow lifted. “That young?”

  Frankie laughed. “How old do I seem to you?”

  Kade stared at her for a long moment, then grinned. “Probably in that same age range,” he replied.

  Her lips twisted in a grimace. “I’m twenty-eight, thank you very much.”

  He chuckled. “That old, huh?”

  Frankie had been about to write something down in her notebook, but his comment drew her gaze back to his. “Which makes you a doddering old fool?”

  “Well, I’m older than you are.”

  “I know.”

  He froze. “You know my age?”

  Frankie laughed. “Of course I do! I’ve been investigating you for a while now.” She grinned cheekily at his irritated expression. “I am a private investigator, Kade. And my client hired me to find his three sons. Oddly, all three of you were born around the same time.” Yet another indication of men cheating, she thought.

  “I’m not your client’s son,” he countered. “And what do you mean? How old are the other sons?”

  She looked at him speculatively. “You mean your brothers?”

  He shook his head. “If we’re related, which I’m not saying that we are, then we’d be half-brot
hers.”

  She bit the end of her pen. “Aren’t you even the slightest bit curious about your brothers and father?”

  “Half-brothers,” he reiterated. “And no, not my father. I am perfectly happy with the family I have, although I’m slightly curious about possible half-brothers.”

  She watched him for another long moment. His movements were jerky as he added cracked pepper to whatever he was cooking on the stove. His mood warned her that…well, he wasn’t lying. But was he telling her the whole truth? Her instincts whispered he wasn’t.

  No. He definitely wasn’t telling her the whole truth. Shrugging off the unexpected stab of disappointment, she went back to her notes. “Fine. You’re probably not related and my presence here is just a wild goose chase.”

  He didn’t respond. Instead, he added some salt to the mix, then poured in some cream. “What else have you learned about her?”

  Frankie mentally sighed. Code be damned, she kinda, maybe, sorta liked Kade. She even respected him. And that was rare. In fact, there were only two other men she liked and respected, but both were happily married. Not that she would have done anything with those two. She liked and respected them, but there’d been no spark with either Janus or Lincoln. Besides, she’d met their wives before she’d met the men. And she had become good friends with Kinsley and Stevie.

  Which left her with…Kade. And this strange sensation that never seemed to completely abate when she was around him. Or not around him, actually. She’d dreamed about him for months. It was mind blowing that she’d met him in Dallas. She couldn’t help kicking herself for not making the connection that night.

  Taking a deep breath, she looked down at her notes, remembering that he’d asked her a question. “From what I gathered, I don’t think she is trying to stalk you for your money. She had several articles that tried to estimate your wealth but I think all she’s figured out there is,” she glanced up at him with an evil grin, “you’re a very wealthy man, Mr. Wilson.”

  “Right. Moving on,” he said, then shifted the pan that was cooking the chicken. “What else?”

  She bit her lip, considering her next comment and whether she wanted to tell him this. Better to be honest, she decided. “I think she’s in Connecticut.”

  He looked at her, his eyes narrowing. “Why Connecticut?”

  Frankie considered her words carefully. “Well, first of all, this is just a gut feeling, based off several notes that she wrote. I need to do more research before I’m sure. The next step is to dig through tax records and…various other sources,” she admitted, adding a dash of mystery, “but I have a feeling that’s where she’s currently living.”

  “And you’re not going to tell me why?”

  “I can’t really explain it. It’s more instinct than science at this point. There were several notes in the margins of the news articles and the printouts. Plus, the sources of the news articles is interesting too. Not at first. In fact, initially, I thought she was living in Nova Scotia, Canada. Or maybe New York, but out in the rural areas.”

  He stopped stirring the chicken for a moment, one dark eyebrow lifted in question. “New York or…” he paused with a slight curl of his lips, “Nova Scotia. Those two places are pretty diverse, Frankie.”

  “I know,” she sighed, her shoulders curling. “And I could be completely off track. It’s just…several of the articles I read were from very rural newspaper sources around those two areas.”

  “Maybe she just travels a lot?’

  Frankie nodded. “I considered that. And it’s also entirely possible that she is simply doing a book about you and other wealthy men. But…” she trailed off thoughtfully, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. I get the feeling from some of her comments that this is personal.”

  “But you don’t think she’s a stalker?”

  “Why would she have left the area if she was trying to stalk you or trick you into marriage? Plus, you said that these boxes were left behind in her hotel room.”

  “That’s right, although the room was a mess. It looked as if she’d left in a hurry.”

  Frankie absorbed that for a long moment. “So, if she were trying to trick you, don’t you think she’d be a bit more…protective of her research materials?”

  He nodded. “You have a good point.”

  “Maybe there’s a completely honest and simple reason as to why she was researching you. Which is why I suggested she might just be writing a book about wealthy men.”

  “That’s possible.” He took two plates out of a cabinet and loaded them up with the chicken in a cream sauce. “Can you get the salad out of the fridge?” he asked.

  “When did you make a salad?” she asked, jumping down off of the stool and walked over to the fridge. Sure enough, there was a bowl of salad with lots of fresh vegetables sitting right in front.

  “I didn’t. Bessie, my housekeeper, makes a salad for me every day. She thinks I won’t get any green stuff otherwise.”

  “Is that true?”

  He laughed. “No. I actually like vegetables and prefer eating healthy foods. But Bessie needs to mother people. She has ten grandkids and makes cookies for them every time they visit.” His expression was almost boyish as he continued, “I don’t get cookies unless I beg.”

  She shook her head. “You know, you could just make your own cookies, Kade.”

  He chuckled. “That’s not the point. And besides, you’ve never had Bessie’s cookies. She makes these caramel apple cookies that just…” he shook his head expressively.

  Frankie stopped and looked at him. “Caramel apple?” she whispered, reverently. “Oh my gosh, my mother used to make this caramel apple pie that was to die for!”

  Kade laughed. “Well, I’m guessing that Bessie’s cookies could give your mother’s pie a run for her money.”

  Frankie sighed. “Probably. I haven’t had that pie in…” she paused, thinking back. It had been over Thanksgiving, but that had been several years ago. “Well, in a long time.”

  “Here, you look hungry,” he handed her a plate filled with the chicken drizzled in a creamy sauce. “Trust me, this is pretty tasty stuff.”

  Frankie tried the sauce, surprised by the burst of flavors. “Wow! You really can cook! What’s in this?”

  “You watched me make it,” he teased, sitting down next to her. “Garlic, onions, salt, pepper, and a couple secret ingredients.”

  “I’d love to learn to cook.”

  “Why don’t you cook?” he asked.

  She shrugged and took another bite, closing her eyes as she savored the rich flavors. “Because I’m not usually home. I grab things on the road when I can.”

  “The private eye business is booming then?”

  She nodded slightly, not bothering to mention her investigations were becoming more tedious lately. Her clients had devolved into spouses wanting pictures of cheating spouse. It was becoming very…difficult to deal with. Edward’s request for information on his forsaken sons was a much better task, despite the fact that Edward was basically a lying, cheating bastard.

  “I do okay,” she told him. “I don’t have a lot of personal expenses and the things I do purchase while on the job are generally expensed to the client.” She winked at him. “Like my hotel room.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, well consider yourself warned about the innkeeper. She’s sweet, but you’d be better off staying here with me.”

  Frankie laughed, silently admiring his broad, sexy shoulders. “I don’t think so.”

  He looked at her, his eyes heating as they moved over her figure. “You’re probably right. Maybe you’re safer at the inn.”

  Frankie wasn’t sure what to say, but for the first time in a long time, the idea of sex wasn’t…scary! Wow! That was a change.

  Clearing her throat, she turned and looked at her notes, blinking several times to get her mind off of…well, his shoulders. And the delicious muscles in his arms. And…!

  “So, here are a couple other details I di
scovered,” she said, pushing her notebook closer. She went over her notes, explaining what she’d found and some of the areas of the country she’d discounted and why. By the time Kade produced a tin of cookies, they were talking about the various places that they’d traveled, the cities they preferred, the areas that they didn’t like, and…generally laughing about the oddities of life and the world in general.

  It was just past ten o’clock when Frankie glanced at her watch. “Goodness, its late!” she gasped, standing up. They’d loaded the dishes earlier in the evening, during a debate about the pros and cons of Orlando versus Miami, Florida. “I’d better…!”

  “My offer to stay here still stands,” Kade interrupted. “It’s a long drive back to town. I’d feel better if you stayed.”

  She smiled faintly, but shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but…well, it would be better if I headed back to the inn. I’m sure that it’s…” Her voice trailed off as she saw the heat in his eyes.

  He moved closer, reaching out to touch her hair. “Better if you what, Frankie?” he asked softly, his voice dropping several octaves.

  “Well,” she began, only to lose her train of thought when he kissed her. His mouth was soft, irresistible. Gentle, but not tentative. There was a message behind that kiss and Frankie wasn’t immune to its call. When she tilted her head back, she could feel the pressure of his lips increase. Unfortunately, that’s when he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in closer.

  Memories flashed behind her eyes and she jerked away. Thankfully, Kade released her almost immediately.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she muttered, pretending she didn’t see the question in his eyes as she hurriedly grabbed her backpack.

  Frankie rushed down the stairs, practically racing across the lawn. Without looking back, she dove into her car and left the ranch.

  But as she looked in her rear view mirror, Frankie saw Kade, standing on the front porch, both hands stuffed into the back pockets of his jeans. From this distance, she couldn’t see his eyes. But she could definitely feel the questions. And she also knew that she couldn’t answer them. Not without revealing more about herself than she was willing to explain.

 

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