“It does matter,” he spit out. “It had nothing to do with you. It’s—”
“Oh, it’s me, not you, right? Is that the best you can do? Really? You called me back to give me that line?”
“I called you back because I didn’t want you to think you’d done anything wrong.”
“You don’t have to tell me that. I know I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“The fact that you love your kid had nothing to do with why I didn’t call you back.”
“Then what did? Or is it some classified secret?” she asked.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AUSTIN FELT THE blood trickle down his brow. “Don’t call the cops on my behalf.” He caught Leah’s hand before she grabbed the phone. The two bags of frozen veggies landed in his lap. Since she’d already touched him, touching her shouldn’t have felt like a big deal. It felt big. Like one of the first touches between two people who’d really like to get to know each other better—better in an intimate way. Holding her hand made him want to hold more. To get closer… remove clothes.
Realizing where his brain had gone, he pushed that thought back. Thinking about her like that would get him in trouble and sabotage his plan. Sure, he’d planned on charming her, but as he’d told Tyler and Dallas, he didn’t plan on sleeping with her. Yet he hadn’t expected to be attracted to her. Suddenly, aware he was still touching her, he pulled his hand away.
“But you’re hurt,” she said. “We have to call the police. When we go to the hospital they’ll make you report it.”
“Hospital? No. Look, if you want to call the police because some creep broke in, then call them. Just don’t do it because of me.” He held his breath for her answer. If she called the police now and they found the bugs, he was screwed.
Well, not totally screwed. The cops would think the guy who broke in had planted the bugs, but it would mean all efforts today were in vain. Not to mention he’d gotten the crap beaten out of him for nothing.
“Didn’t you hear me? You have blood running down your forehead.” She snatched a tissue from the bar between her kitchen and dining room and patted his brow.
“This is nothing.” He said it with conviction because he’d checked. “It’s a scratch. Head wounds just bleed a lot.”
“Let me see it.” She slipped between his legs to stand. Close. So close that her soft breasts were inches from his face. So close his hand itched to reach out and fit his palm around the sweet-looking curve of her waist. But damn, what he wouldn’t give to lean into her just an inch more. To bury his face in all that soft-looking cleavage that smelled like soft woman and waffle cones.
“He could have killed you.” She gently parted his hair with her fingers.
“He didn’t. As a matter of fact this happened when we were scuffling around on the floor, and the lamp fell off the end table and hit me.” It was a lie, but now that Austin thought about it, that bozo could have swung twice as hard as he did. It was as if he hadn’t wanted to hurt him.
“Lean forward.” She put a hand on each side of his face and tilted his head. His forehead practically rested on the swell of breasts. She wore a fitted white T-shirt with a scooped neckline. Not too scooped. Not as scooped as he would have liked, but for sure low enough to make it interesting. And with the current position of his head, it was really interesting.
He took in the sweet-looking mounds of flesh covered by a beige lacy bra—lace that was basically transparent. He could make out her nipples—a soft rose color.
Feeling perverted, he closed his eyes. Then opened them. Okay, so he was perverted.
Or maybe he was just a man.
Her fingers moved over his scalp. Her touch came so damn soft that the tension he’d been holding melted away.
“It’s not bad.” Her voice came out feminine. “But you should see a doctor. You could have a concussion.”
“I don’t have a concussion.” Still mesmerized by the view, he wondered where else her sweet touch would work magic.
“How do you know?” Her fingers stirred in his hair as if to get a better look.
He lifted his face. “Because I didn’t pass out. And my eyes are dilating properly. See.” He closed his eyes and then opened them.
“You could still have a concussion,” she argued.
Her small hands caressed the sides of his head. “Feel this.” He moved her right hand a little to the right to one of his permanent dents. “This was a concussion. Now this over here.” He moved her to the left. “That was just a few stiches.”
She frowned, her fingers now gently threading through his hair, feeling for imperfections. Her touch was both relaxing and sensual. His shoulders gave up another bit of tension. Some of which he felt as if he’d been carrying for weeks.
“What’s this?” She touched another lump.
“That I was born with.” He grinned, glad she wasn’t looking at the scar behind his ear. “Thank God baldness doesn’t run in my family.” Or did it? Hell, he didn’t know what ran in his family.
She made a cute face. He wanted to pull her into his lap and taste that smile, to dip his tongue in those dimples. To put his lips around her dusty-rose nipples. His heart raced. “Besides, you’re a vet,” he said. “You can take care of me.”
“That’s right. I’m a vet. And you’re not an animal.”
You wanna bet? She wouldn’t say that if she knew what all he’d like to do to her right now. Tear her shirt off her, toss that lace bra across the room, rip those uniform pants off, get his fingers in her panties, and taste…
“I’ll be fine.” He tried to stop his thoughts from going south. Who was he kidding? Things had already gone south. Even with two packs of frozen vegetables in his lap, his jeans felt tight. He didn’t need a hard-on for her muddling things up. They were muddled enough.
“I’m not so sure.” Their eyes met and held. Damn it if she didn’t look like a woman who wanted, no, needed, to be kissed.
And she wasn’t alone in the wanting and needing department.
“It’s a simple question. Why didn’t you call me back?” Sara repeated.
Roberto’s grip on the phone tightened, as he mentally searched for an answer he could give her. One that made sense. One that didn’t have any element of truth to it.
“It’s complicated.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“What kind of complicated?” she asked. When he didn’t answer she continued, “Married complicated?”
“No,” he said. Not anymore.
“Criminal past complicated? Have you been arrested, robbed a bank, killed anyone?”
“No.” But the killing part could change.
“Drug complicated? And by that I mean either illegal or prescription, like Prozac, Xanax, or antipsychotic drugs.”
“No,” he bit out, realizing how stupid this was. He should just hang up, but he didn’t want to.
“Gay complicated?” she asked cautiously.
“Please,” he mumbled.
“Then why don’t you just tell me. Is it…‘just not into you’ complicated? Seriously, that would have been better than what I got. Which was nothing. I thought we had something. A spark, a connection. Guess I was wrong.”
“You weren’t wrong. It’s just…” The pause hung on. What could he tell her?
She let out a big puff of air. “Like I said, it’s not important.”
It felt important. It felt wrong. Both wrong not to explain, and wrong to have played her like he did. Yet he didn’t get why. It wasn’t as if he’d slept with her. He hadn’t even touched her. All he’d done was buy her lunch to get a few answers. Okay, he’d gone in under false pretenses, as if he was interested in her. But then again those hadn’t been false.
“Look, I’m in the middle of something, okay?”
“Well, that explains everything,” she said, sarcasm so thick in her voice he was amazed it didn’t clog the line.
His gaze shot back to the park. The mother waited at the bottom of a slide, encouraging the boy to slide down
. “Do it,” the woman called out. “Just do it.”
It was as if she was talking to him. Roberto swallowed. “I lost my wife and boy.”
Sara took in a sharp breath. “Shit!” she muttered. “Now, I feel like a total bitch. I—”
“You didn’t know.” His line beeped. “Look, I’m getting another call.” He raked a palm over his face. “Can I call you back later?”
She hesitated. “Yeah. But you don’t have to. I get it. I mean, I understand if you don’t.”
He understood if he didn’t, too. That made sense. What didn’t make sense was how much he wanted to talk with her again. He hung up and took the other call.
“Are you coming?” the male voice snapped.
Roberto recognized Cruz’s voice.
“Yeah,” he said. “Be there in five.” He hung up. Looking back at the woman and child playing in the park, he gave himself a second to enjoy the view. There was something about it: innocence, beauty, love. Like a piece of living art. He’d had that. And Rafael DeLuna had taken it from him.
He glanced at the mother again. She was young, dark hair, dark eyes, and attractive. Like his Anna had been. He searched himself to see if he’d feel that longing, that almost instant connected feeling he’d felt with Sara. It wasn’t there.
What was it about Sara? Physically, she was the complete opposite of his wife. How in the world had a woman he barely knew crawled under his skin?
Oh, he understood the attraction. She was beautiful. Yet he’d been in the presence of a lot of beautiful women since he lost Anna. This… it was something else.
But it wasn’t important. Because after he did what he needed to do, he’d either be in jail or dead.
He pulled up Brad’s number and hit dial one more time to see if he would answer. He didn’t. Roberto slipped his cell into his pocket, got on his bike, and went to do what he had to do. Because the closer he got to Cruz, the closer he would get to DeLuna.
“I’m not going to the hospital,” Austin said.
Kiss her.
Don’t kiss her.
His willpower kept switching on and off so fast, he was surprised he didn’t blow a mental breaker switch.
Kissing her would be so easy. Slip his hand around her waist and pull her an inch closer. Her lips looked sweet, moist, ready. He was ready. His gut said she wouldn’t refuse him. Said she’d lean into him, let him taste her lips, and who knows where it would lead.
As if she’d read his mind, and knew her own willpower, she dropped her hands from his head and took a step back. “What do you do?” When he didn’t answer, she continued, “You have a scar here, too.” She pointed to his brow but didn’t touch him; that’s when he knew he was right. She’d felt it, the lure, the temptation. “What do you do that gets you beat up so much?”
He had to clear his head to answer. The truth was he’d gotten a few on the job working for the force, the few others while doing time in prison. He couldn’t tell her either of those.
“I’m a day trader.” He told her the lie he’d already planned out. Which was only a partial lie. “And a financial advisor.” Dallas, Tyler, and now their wives came to him to help make their investments. It was something he was good at besides being a cop. Hell, he’d earned more money day trading than working as a PI.
“What brought you to Heartbroke?”
He had this one worked out, too. Another lie, but if it took that to get what he needed, it was justified. “I have a client here. He’s making some big investments and wanted me close for a few months.”
“So you’re just here temporarily?” she asked.
Until I learn the info I need. “If I like it, who knows.” He didn’t want that to keep her from chumming up with him.
She frowned. “That doesn’t explain getting hit in the head four or five times.”
So she’d figured that out. He had to think quick. “While starting the business, I worked as a bouncer for a club. Things got crazy.” That was true, too. He’d worked a security gig for a club.
“Good thing you got out of it. A couple more licks and you could have hid your own Easter eggs.”
He laughed. “Good one. Tyler would… like that one.” Shit! Why was he talking about Tyler?
“Tyler?” she asked.
“A friend. He’s always quoting things.”
“I don’t know if it’s original, but my aunt said it. She was brilliant and a hoot at the same time.”
Her tone told him her aunt was important to her. He wanted to ask, but wasn’t sure how. Then the opportunity seemed to fade.
She bit down on her bottom lip and looked at his mouth. Was she still thinking about being kissed? He sure as hell was.
“Okay, so no police. No hospital.” She picked up the two bags of frozen vegetables.
That was still too easy. She didn’t want to call the cops. Why?
“But you stay here for a couple of hours so I can keep an eye on you. If you slipped into a coma or died, I’d feel guilty. At least a little bit.” She smiled.
If he’d known it was this easy to get her to spend some time with him, he’d have had someone hit him over the head the first day.
She pressed one of the frozen bags of vegetables to the side of his face. “Hold this to your eye and this on your swollen hand.” She set the second bag on the top of his hand that rested on his leg.
“Be careful,” he said. “You’re almost being nice.”
Through one eye, he watched her do that cute eye-roll thing again. She grinned. Her dimples winked. She stepped back and kicked a pen that was on the floor, reminding him of what he should be concentrating on rather than her dimples.
“You know, I told you the guy didn’t take anything, but he did have something. A small black book—an address or phone book.”
Color washed out of her face. She looked at the stuff on the kitchen floor, knelt, and rummaged through the items.
Looking for her black book, no doubt.
“Was it yours?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” That sounded like a lie.
“Why would someone take it?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” She looked up, and he recognized the emotion filling her big doe-like brown eyes. Fear.
Of what?
He dropped the cold pack of peas from his face. “Is something wrong?” He hoped it would be this easy, that she’d just explain things. Maybe even throw in the whereabouts of her low-life brother. He could thank her and leave before things got complicated. Hell, if it was DeLuna causing her fear, he’d solve her problems right along with his.
“I need… to check on the cats and… and get some supplies to clean that cut.”
She snagged her phone from the table.
And make a phone call to someone, he thought.
She backed up and looked at him. “Hold the peas to your eye.”
He did, then with one eye he watched her walk away—the soft sway of her hips hypnotic. Who the hell was she calling?
He heard her open and close her bedroom door.
She was definitely hiding something. But what?
He inhaled a deep breath and mentally thanked Tyler for reminding him to put a receiver program on his laptop and have it set to record.
Which meant, just as soon as he got back to his place, he’d know what had put the panic and fear on Leah Reece’s pretty face.
Leah passed out quick scratches behind every cat’s ear, then let out Bob, her orange tabby, who looked like he needed the litter box. Then, emotionally reeling, she called Luis.
It went to voice mail. Tears filled her eyes. “Luis? Where are you? Are you still in San Antonio? Call me. Now!”
Brushing her first tear from her cheek, she caught her breath and tried to catch her emotions. Crying wasn’t going to solve a damn thing. She’d learned that early on. At eight years old, she’d cried nonstop for a week when her mom had been killed in the car crash. Aunt Nita had tried to soothe her by telling her that sometimes God just need
ed to take people up to heaven to be with Him. That hadn’t helped.
Leah had cried harder and told her aunt that God was selfish and unfair. If He needed someone, why hadn’t He taken some kid’s mom who had a dad? It had been a few months since her father had even dropped by. Not that Leah had missed him. But her mother had. Leah had known because she’d heard her mother crying at night.
Pushing the past to the far corner of her heart where it wouldn’t hurt so much, Leah inhaled a shaky breath. Then she dropped on the bed and hugged Socks, who gave her chin a concerned bump with his forehead.
“I’m okay, as long as you guys are okay,” she said to her cats.
As long as Luis is okay. His address and telephone number were in that black book. Was that why the intruder had taken it? It had to be Rafael or one of his friends, didn’t it?
What she didn’t understand was why Rafael was intent on finding Luis. The idea that Luis might have gotten pulled into something with their half brother hit a few more nerves. “Please,” she murmured. You can’t end up like him.
Her gaze fell on her white blanket and she saw… footprints. Crap. Why the hell would the intruder be on her bed? She recalled Austin’s description of the man. It hadn’t sounded like Rafael. It hadn’t sounded like Cruz, either, but she could see him getting some kind of perverted pleasure from getting in her bed.
Feeling violated, she hugged her arms around herself.
Her phone, still clutched in her hand, rang, and she answered it before the first ring finished. “Luis?” She breathed out her brother’s name.
“Sorry, it’s me, Sara.”
“Is everything okay at the office?” Leah asked.
“Here, yes. Evelyn told me your place was broken into. Is everything okay? Did they steal much?”
“No,” she said. “My neighbor… Everything’s fine. Has Luis called?”
“I don’t think so, but let me ask Evelyn,” she offered.
“No.” Sara came back. “Evelyn says no one’s called since your neighbor. Is everything okay, Leah? Is something going on with your brother? Is that connected to your place being broken into?”
“It’s… complicated,” Leah said.
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