“Reality check.” She reached for her coffee.
He caught her hand. “Look at me and tell me, Holly. What scares you so much about us?”
That was damned annoying. “I’m not scared.” She didn’t bother trying to jerk her hand from his warm hold. “I’m realistic. I’m not looking for a relationship. I don’t want one. I have my business to build, and you don’t trust cops anyway.”
He rubbed his thumb on her palm and looked thoughtful. “You’re an ex-cop, sweetheart. You and your irritating family have shown me the other side.” He flashed a grin. “Maybe most cops aren’t dickheads.”
God. She wanted to laugh and cry, and that was just so not like her. But Wes took her breath away. For most of his life, he had believed he couldn’t trust cops, and now he was changing that view. People rarely did that. Just like he changed the man he was. He hadn’t liked who he had become as Nick Mandeville so he became Wes Brockman. Yes, she knew he disappeared to save his sister, but it was more.
“You’re overthinking this. The way this works is you have something on your mind, you tell me what it is. Because I’m a man, I’ll try to fix it. Then you’ll get mad at me because you don’t want me to fix it. You’re capable of fixing it yourself. See?”
Her mouth twitched because part of her wanted to laugh. But Holly prided herself on dealing with life. Time to deal. “You can’t fix this, Brockman. We had fun. The sex was nice. But there’s no future.” She took a breath and held his gaze. “I can’t have kids. Ever.”
Chapter 18
Wes stared at Holly and tried to understand. Then it hit him. “The scar.”
She pulled her hand from his. Shock had slackened his grip. “Yes.” She stood up and looked down at him. “I’m going to the office. Take the girls with you to work. I’m going to get some patrols to drive by the house and keep an eye on George.”
Wes stood up so that he was toe to toe with her. Did she think he couldn’t see the pain etched so deep into her heart it had grown into a chip on her shoulder? His shock was giving way to anger. “So that’s it? You drop your little bombshell and walk out? And I what? Go find a woman who can breed? And while I’m at it, I might as well find one that can dance, too.” He heard what was coming out of his mouth, but he couldn’t stop. “Is that it, Holly?”
Her eyes widened and her face went pale, showing her freckles and her sorrow. She put her hand over her stomach as if she might be sick. Then she dropped it and got a hold of herself. “Yes.” She sidestepped to get away from him since the chair behind her blocked her in.
“No.” He said it softly, ashamed of his anger at her. It didn’t take much to guess how hard it was for her to tell him. It shouldn’t have been, but it was. “Holly, don’t leave me. Don’t walk out on me.” Christ, he didn’t mean to say it that way.
But it stopped her. She turned back. And stood there, looking as helpless as he’d ever seen her.
He pulled her into his arms, folded her into him, trying to protect her. She was stiff, and damn it, he could feel her shaking. He ran his hand over her back, trying to soothe her. “This isn’t a deal-breaker, baby.” He smoothed her hair down and added, “I love you, Holly.”
She melted against him. The breath flowed out of her body and she settled into his arms, leaning on him. He had never felt more powerful than this moment, when he had won Holly’s trust.
He pulled her head up to look at her face. “Tell me what happened. I assume you had a hysterectomy?”
She met his gaze. “I want my coffee.”
Wes blinked, then laughed and let her go. She was his PI, tough, determined, and prickly. He picked up her mug and handed it to her, then got his own, took her hand, and pulled her with him to the edge of the deck. They leaned against the deck rail and watched the waves. Some early morning surfers were out.
She asked, “Do you still surf?”
“Yes.” Wes waited. His mug was empty so he set it aside and folded his arms on the rail. He didn’t need to push her. She had accepted his love for her, he had felt it. In time, she’d accept that she felt the same way about him. He had to believe that. He watched the waves, thinking about how much Holly believed in him. She was the kind of woman who would believe in him even when he made mistakes. She would believe that he would fix his mistakes.
“Three years ago, I got pregnant.”
He nodded without looking at her, and did the math. “Brad?”
“Yes. I was working a lot of overtime, trying to pay off the bills for his law school. We were living together. Anyway, I had pains but Brad wasn’t concerned.”
The coffee turned to acid in his stomach. He unfolded his arms, reached over, and took Holly’s hand.
“One day I was working a double shift, but I was getting sicker and sicker until Rodgers took me home early from work. I was too sick to drive. I called Brad and he said he’d come home and take me to the hospital.”
His voice was flat. “Did he?”
“I guess not. I waited, he didn’t come home. I must have passed out and my dad found me.” She looked over at him. “Rodgers had called my dad and told him she thought something was really wrong. My dad came over, found me, and called the paramedics. It turned out to be an ectopic pregnancy, you know, where the egg settles outside the uterus. I got an infection and they had to do a hysterectomy to save my life.”
Wes let go of her hand, put his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her into his side. It was all he could do to control his rage at Brad, the asshole. “I’m glad they saved your life. Did Brad ever show up?”
“When I was coming out of anesthesia. He broke up with me then. He said he needed a wife who could have children and provide the right image for his career.”
Blood pounded in his ears. He fought to keep his breathing even. “And Seth beat the shit out of him.” It wasn’t a question. Wes would have done the same thing if Holly had been his sister. He wanted to do the same thing right now, track down that sniveling bastard and kick his ass.
“My dad pulled Seth off of him. Dad had gone to our apartment to get me some clothes and found Seth doing his best to kill Brad.”
“Brad didn’t prosecute?” From what Wes had seen of Brad, that didn’t sound right.
“Nope, because my dad told him we’d tell the world what a slime bucket he was. We came to an understanding. I wouldn’t go after him for the money his law degree cost, et cetera, and he wouldn’t prosecute Seth.”
That sounded just like Holly. She ate her hurt and pride to keep her brother from getting fired and possibly going to jail. No wonder she had reacted so strongly to Brad’s needling her in public. And no wonder she needed to succeed on her own so much. She had to prove to herself and Brad that she could do it. That she was valuable, even if she’d never be a mother. As long as she didn’t involve his sister, he was going to help her solve this case. Her first murder case as a PI. She’d have people fighting to get her to take their cases. He pulled her closer.
She took a breath. “For over two years, Brad stayed away from me and kept his mouth shut. But now he’s looking to destroy me.”
Wes didn’t like this. “Why? What do you mean?”
“I had a client I did regular background checks for. A manufacturing plant. They suddenly cut me loose when they said they found out I had been asked to leave the sheriff’s department.” She turned her head and looked at Wes. “There’s only one person who would tell a lie like that.”
“Brad?”
She nodded. “And I think the reason he jumped at representing the women in your book club is to raise his profile.”
He thought about that. The fact that Brad used Holly to put him through law school, then dumped her when she’d lost their child and endured a hysterectomy, would damage him the most where? “He’s going to run for political office.”
She shrugged and looked out to the ocean. “It was his long-term plan. So he needs to destroy my credibility. But I’m not going to let that happen. I am a good PI—no, an
excellent PI—and I will prove it.”
He smiled over at her. “After you kiss me, then you can prove it.”
Holly got into her office in time to answer the phone. “Hillbay Investigations.”
“Still answering your own phone,” Brad said into her ear.
This morning, Holly was in a good mood, so she decided not to slam the phone down. “Why, Brad, how nauseating to hear your voice. Are you dying and calling so I can throw a party?”
“Bitch. I thought I’d give you the heads up that I’m serving your boyfriend official papers this morning at ten-thirty.”
Curiosity got the best of her. “Brockman has lawyers out the wazoo, so why are you telling me?”
“You really are inadequate at your job, aren’t you, Holly? Most PIs appreciate professional courtesy.” He hung up.
Holly set the phone down. “Courtesy, my ass. You’re up to something. I just bet it has something to do with a camera.” Maybe he leaked the information to the newspapers or local TV news. And he thought getting her there would make her look bad.
But she was going to solve the case, and she was ninety-eight percent sure one of Brad’s clients was going down for murder.
Hearing her office door open, she looked up and winced. “What are you wearing?” Holly picked up a big stack of papers and stuff from her desk and walked to the small table in the kitchenette that was doubling as a desk for her assistant.
Tanya grinned and did a little twirl. Her orange and green striped skirt swirled around her legs. Her orange jacket top had a green trim. “It’s my version of a power suit.”
“I need shades to look directly at you.” Holly dumped all her notes and papers on the table. There were notes from Tanya and the girls about the O’Man’s podcasts, Holly’s log sheets, pictures, all the stuff she compiled for cases. “Organize these for me. I want a suspect folder, clues, and notes in some kind of order.”
“Sure.” Tanya opened the refrigerator and pulled out a soda. “I heard about Wes’s friend George getting shot. That’s terrible.”
She grimaced at the memory. “He’s okay. He was sore and crabby this morning, but okay. Wes and his two clerks are going to the bookstore today. I’m going to head over there in a little bit, since it looks like Brad Knoll has some kind of show planned. After that, I’m going to go to Riverside to find Ashley Gaines. Will you be okay here?” She hadn’t told Wes yet that she was going to Riverside. She’d tell him at the store.
Tanya sank down in a chair and said, “You’re leaving me in your office? Alone?”
She grinned at that. “And giving you a key to lock up. Unless that’s a problem? It’s not like I keep money or my expensive diamonds here.” She went to her desk to get the extra key. “I’ll leave you my cell phone number and my dad’s number. He helps me out sometimes so he can answer most questions if you can’t reach me.”
“Wow, you have a dad. That just sounds so weird.”
Holly couldn’t help it, she laughed. “I wasn’t hatched from an egg.” Dropping the key on her desk, she added, “Both my dad and brothers are doing a little work on the case, so they may be checking in at the office. Have them call me on my cell if they have information.”
Tanya sat back. “You look different. Softer.”
Holly stared at her. “I do not. I just look normal compared to your blinding outfit.” She went to her desk and got her purse. She checked her gun, fished out her keys, and headed out the door.
Fifteen minutes later, she walked down the street towards Books on the Beach. She was still annoyed by Tanya saying she looked softer. Ex-cops and PIs did not look soft. Stopping at the door to the bookstore, she glanced in the window to see her reflection.
She looked the same. Tough. Satisfied that Tanya was a head case, she went inside the store and stopped in surprise. There had to be ten or fifteen customers milling about. Was that usual for a Monday before lunchtime? Jodi was behind the register while Kelly and Wes helped customers find selections.
Wes spotted her, said something to the older woman he was helping, then walked over to her. “Hey, what’s up?”
There was no denying that Wes Brockman was a tasty-looking man. He wore a pale blue shirt that made the green in his eyes look deeper. There were faint tension lines around his mouth, but the way his eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled at her was real. Genuine. And damned if it didn’t make her feel softer. “Uh, well, Brad called to tell me that he’s serving you with his bogus lawsuit at ten-thirty.”
Wes’s smile faded. “I’ll handle Knoll. You don’t have to be here.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be here? Do you think I can’t handle Brad?”
He reached out, cupped the back of her head, and pulled her nose to nose with him. “I know you can handle him. But this is my bookstore, my turf, and I will not be played by that sniveling prick. And I won’t stand by and watch him hurt you. I’m on your side, Holly, so deal with it.”
He startled the hell out of her. Wes had a core of absolute steel, but she had been so busy convincing herself that he was a harmless, charming, playboy bookseller, she hadn’t paid enough attention. But the truth was that Holly couldn’t love a man who was too soft. She needed a man who was as strong as she was. And Wes was that and so much more. However, that didn’t mean she was going to let him fight her battles. “Back off, book boy. Don’t make me hurt you.”
His smile was slow and wicked. “You can try, Hillbaby, but you’ll end up on your back and begging.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why do men turn everything into a sex joke?”
He laughed and let her go.
Holly looked around, trying to find her bearings. “You’re pretty busy in here.”
“Yeah, not bad. They’re buying books to hide the fact that they’re here to get gossip. Word spread that George was shot and I was there. Want some coffee?”
“Hey, Holly.” Kelly walked by with a customer.
“Hi, Kelly. Busy morning, I see.” Holly smiled, then turned back to Wes. “Coffee sounds good. I’ll get it if you’re busy.”
He leaned close to her. “Hillbaby, I’m never too busy for you.”
Warm pleasure skimmed along her insides. Jeez, he was making her soft. But before she could think of a response, he walked away toward the coffeemaker.
She took a few seconds to admire his butt in his dark slacks. The man had a seriously fine ass. And thighs. And package. And arms. But what she really liked about Wes was…just him.
Enough! She was turning into a marshmallow. Ugh. It was damned embarrassing. She really needed to get her edge back before Wes had her cooking him dinner and washing his socks. She waited for two women to pass her on their way to the cash register, then started walking toward Wes and the coffee.
She heard the door open. Was it more customers or Brad with his nasty paperwork to sue them? She glanced over her shoulder. A woman. Not Brad. She turned back to see Wes fill up a second cup of coffee then set the carafe back. She took a last glance at his backside and walked over to get her coffee.
A female voice behind her said, “Nick? It is really you?”
Holly stopped and blinked, feeling the weirdest sensation run along her back. Her heart started to pound. Her brain whirled. She looked at Wes.
He turned, holding two cups of coffee. His gaze hit her first, then shifted to the door. It looked like he stopped breathing, like his entire body just froze in time. Finally his mouth moved, then formed the low-pitched word, “Michelle.”
Kelly rushed up to Wes and grabbed the two cups of coffee. “Wes, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
He didn’t acknowledge Kelly, just stared right over her.
Holly turned and took a second look at the woman. She had long, dark hair, even features, a tan, and looked just like the picture Wes had showed her in the surfing magazine.
Wes’s sister. What was going on? How did she find Wes?
While Holly watched, tears welled up and spilled down Michelle’s
face. “Nick, oh God, it is you!” Michelle ran toward him.
Everyone in the bookstore stared in frozen fascination. The tension was so thick, it was hard to breathe. Kelly was the only one who moved, stepping back from where she’d been standing in front of Wes.
Michelle flung herself at Wes, forcing him to catch her. “You’re alive. I knew you were alive!” She sobbed, her whole body shaking in reaction.
The pain etched on Wes’s face shifted him from shock to torment. He pulled Michelle against him, but it looked like it was involuntary. His love for his sister won out over his angst.
It hurt Holly just to see Wes’s anguish and struggle.
Taking a shuddering breath, Michelle stepped back and smacked Wes on his arm. “Why? Why would you leave me?”
Holly’s throat filled for the old sorrow and anger in Michelle’s voice.
Wes’s voice was thick. “Michelle, I had to. I couldn’t let you get hurt anymore.”
“It wasn’t your choice to make!” she yelled at him. Her lip and chin quivered again. “I’m so sorry, Nick. I didn’t mean what I said. Please forgive me.”
Wes pulled his sister back into his arms. “What are you doing here, Michelle? It’s too dangerous.” He closed his eyes. His entire face was nearly gray with his inner turmoil.
She leaned back over his arm and looked at her brother. “I had to come. A private investigator e-mailed me. She said you were in trouble and gave me the address of this bookstore. She told me what time you’d be here. Here’s the e-mail and the picture of a Little League team with you as the coach that she sent as proof you were alive.” She held out two pieces of paper.
Wes looked over his sister’s head to Holly.
Sick at the accusation stamped on his face, Holly took a step toward him. “No.” It came out a whisper. He couldn’t believe she would do that. She got a hold of herself and started toward him. He had to know her better than to believe she would contact Michelle behind his back.
Especially after this morning.
The Sex On Beach Book Club Page 23