A Simple Twist of Fate

by HelenKay Dimon

  Sophie wanted to believe the question; the fact Beck stayed engaged instead of getting up and leaving, meant something. He could lift her, shove her aside. Instead, he sat. “Finding the jewelry would be easier for her. Buy her some time, I guess. I’m trying not to get sucked any deeper into their marriage.”

  Beck’s breathing stayed even. “You think it’s at Shadow Hill?”

  “I really was cleaning for your grandmother right before she died, but I was also asking questions, thinking I could figure out where Charlie kept the money. Get it out of her.”

  This time Beck sighed. “Sophie, the FBI can’t figure it out.”

  That couldn’t be the answer. “The jewelry has to be here.”

  She trailed her fingers down his chest to low on his stomach. When he didn’t shrug her off or grab her hand, light sparked to life inside of her again.

  “Charlie probably sold it.” Beck’s hands moved then, slipping back to her waist. “That’s what he did. Stole and sold items off to support the look of a fake lifestyle, then ran through all of it and started again.”

  The combination of Beck’s touch and the matter-of-fact discussion had her mind buzzing. The relief at sharing the questions, talking it through, calmed the anxiety churning inside of her even as the fear of him walking out lingered. She wanted to skip over this part and get to a place where she could ask for forgiveness.

  “This was right before Charlie died, and the reports are he didn’t have any assets.” And that was the key. “That’s why people are so upset, right?”

  One of his hands traveled to her lower back and nestled in the low dip at the base of her spine. “One of the reasons.”

  “There isn’t anywhere else and . . .” She waded into the danger zone. The brothers were clear about Charlie and his crimes. Even Beck with his justifications and legal talk understood his father wasn’t innocent. He was just never found guilty. But Sophie had no clue how they felt about their grandmother.

  “You may as well finish it.”

  “Every now and then Nanette would let a phrase slip.” Sophie spit it out before she could call it back. “It was clear she was in constant contact with Charlie.”

  Beck’s demeanor didn’t change. He stroked her skin. No jumping or yelling. No outburst or shouts of anger. He took the information, assessed and kept moving.

  With so many strengths, so many pros, she’d stumbled on one of his biggest. He could handle bad news and keep moving. She knew from experience that was a rare quality.

  “Not that the FBI or any prosecutor could prove. Most people think our grandmother was an innocent victim like Mom.”

  Sophie feared that was nothing more than wishful thinking. “She said Charlie’s name on the phone more than once.”

  Nanette would hide the calls and take them while standing in the pantry, but Sophie listened. She knew Charlie called on a different cell phone, one she hadn’t seen since Nanette’s death.

  “Why didn’t you just tell us from the beginning?” Beck’s hands stilled. “Wait, let me guess. You thought we’d find the jewelry and claim it.”

  This time he did change. A rough edge moved into his voice. Sophie pretended she didn’t hear it. “No.”

  “There wasn’t a part of you that thought we were just like Charlie?”

  She didn’t flinch. “Never.”

  When Beck nodded, she continued, wanting it all out. “I couldn’t prove it was my aunt’s property without divulging the affair, and she didn’t want that. And it was clear to me from the beginning that everyone who crossed your path had a hand out to you guys, wanting reimbursement for something you didn’t do. I didn’t want to be one more person who did that.”

  “So, you waited until we moved in and came back around and lied.”

  Lied. The word hung out there. Sophie didn’t duck it. “I couldn’t get in before that, though I admit to wondering if I could slip through the broken window in the kitchen back then. As for the lying, I guess I did.”

  “Guess?”

  “God, Beck, don’t you get it? That’s why I tried to stay away from you. I wanted you and couldn’t stop thinking about you, but I had this huge thing hanging over my head.” The energy pounding inside her had her jumpy and unsure.

  She wanted to stay connected, but she needed to get up. Maybe loom over him as she begged him to understand. She tried to push up and off him.

  He held her on his lap. “Okay.”

  She had no idea what that meant. “I . . . uh . . .”

  “I’m trying not to be a shit about this. Trying to understand you were in an unwinnable position. I just need a second to take it all in.” His hand went to the back of her neck. “Please don’t run from me.”

  A tickle ran over the back of her neck and sent a shake down her spine. Through all the bad news and difficult words, he kept touching her. Even now his body lengthened and swelled inside her and he tugged her closer.

  “Are you angry?” She whispered when their mouths almost touched.

  “Kind of numb.”

  He wasn’t exactly clearing up her confusion, so she tried again. “I’m not sure how bad that is or how angry you are. You’re not the blow-up type, are you?”

  “That’s Declan.”

  She’d never seen Declan as anything other than the stable middle brother. “Really?”

  “I’m the logical one and I’m trying to reason it out before I say something I’ll regret.”

  A part of her struggled with the ease at which he handled the bad news. Her lie had been one of omission, but it still had hung between them for weeks and still threatened to color everything now. She’d expected him to hear the news, shove her away and run back to Callen to let him know he was right.

  While she apologized for everything else, she needed to apologize to Beck for not trusting him enough to believe he’d stay true to who he was when bad news came rolling in. “I had loyalty on one side and all this history, and what I felt for you was so unexpected.”

  “I get that.”

  “I wanted to fight it off or ignore it, but you were right there and my mind wouldn’t stop.”

  “It sure doesn’t suck that the surprise ran both ways.” Beck’s forehead touched hers. “I just wanted . . .”

  “What?”

  He lifted his head again. “Some part of my life that didn’t link to Charlie.”

  Her stomach dove into a free fall. She felt it plunk right down to her bare feet. “And now I do.”

  “Can’t say I ever thought I’d be sleeping with a woman who had a tie to Charlie.”

  Present tense. She grabbed on to that and held it out as hope.

  Something clogged her throat and she had to swallow three times before she could talk without choking. “I didn’t want to hide it anymore. I mean, I know what you said last night, but—”

  His finger brushed over her bottom lip. “Sophie, it’s okay.”

  But it wasn’t. “How can it be?’

  “I refuse to let it matter.”

  Thanks to decisions made by people who weren’t even there, her time with Beck could be cut short. The idea of him watching her, doubting her, as he waited for her to betray him . . . she couldn’t handle that. “But you see me differently now.” Even she heard the sadness twisting through her voice.

  “I see a woman jumping around and making decisions because of something Charlie did more than a year ago.” Beck placed a quick kiss on her mouth as he shifted his body and slipped deeper inside her, almost as a reminder that he still wanted her. “There’s probably a part of me that knew your secret tied to Charlie instead of my grandmother because it’s really the only thing that makes sense.”

  “But you didn’t say anything?”

  “It’s probably why I didn’t push as hard as I should have. I guess I didn’t want to hear that you had somehow
wandered into Charlie’s path.”

  “My aunt’s secret. I did all of this for her.”

  He kept talking as if he hadn’t heard her. “Just one more complaint against Charlie, I guess.”

  “Are you saying you want me to provide evidence to prove my—”

  Beck kissed her again with his lips lingering over hers this time. “No, I believe you. I made a vow a long time ago to make sure I put blame where it belongs. In this case, as usual, it’s Charlie, and to some extent your aunt for her bad decisions.”

  The tiny flicker of hope inside her began to dance again. “It all comes down to Charlie.”

  “I spend a lot of time thinking about him and trying to put the pieces together.”

  That big brain of his kept getting in the way. She wished it would take a rest for a second.

  “Maybe what you need is to go with your gut. You know your dad was a criminal.” She held up a finger to stop him from interrupting and inhaled to keep her mind from wandering to how good his body felt against hers. “And do not correct the word I picked. You want to downplay it, but look at your mother. Watch Leah. Talk to Tom. Listen to me. Hell, look in the mirror or across the dinner table at your brothers. There is evidence all around you.”

  “If Charlie is as bad as everyone says . . .” For the longest time Beck just sat there, not finishing the sentence.

  She gave him time. She’d give him forever if that’s what it took to work through this and get to the other side. She’d just found him and didn’t want to walk away or see him move on.

  With a visible swallow he finally started talking again. “Then what the hell am I?”

  And he lost her. “What?”

  “Talk about something you can’t separate.” Beck gathered her in closer, rubbing his palms over her butt. “He’s a piece of shit, but he’s part of me. What does that say about me?”

  The words killed off the sexual tension building inside of her. She saw the conversation careening toward a horrible finish and rushed to pull him back. She kissed his cheek and his mouth. Anything to break his concentration and get him to listen. “Beck, don’t do that.”

  “I can’t help thinking that underneath—”

  “Listen to me.” Her hands went to his face as she aimed all her will at getting him to listen. She’d crawl all over him if that’s what it took to get his attention. “You’re made up of your environment and your experiences, and pieces of your mom and your brothers. You are not Charlie Hanover.”

  “You’re so sure of that?”

  Some days it was the only thing she knew for sure in Sweetwater. Every minute since she’d arrived at Shadow Hill and met the brothers, she knew one truth. “Charlie Hanover would have taken advantage of every situation and charmed me for the sake of taking my bank account and collecting information. Charlie would have taken me to bed right at the beginning, and reveled in his conquest, not caring about my life or what drove me.”

  “Probably true.”

  “You are sexy and smart and good. You are decent, from your job choice to the way you live your life to the love you have for your family.” She kissed Beck then, letting her mouth soothe the frenzy she could feel raging inside of him. When they broke again, she trailed a fingertip over his lips. “You are also sometimes annoying and can argue a point to death, but you are not Charlie.”

  “I never knew him.”

  “From what I hear, you didn’t miss much.” She had no idea if he believed her but decided she needed to let the idea fester before she came around to it again. “I have no idea how my aunt got sucked in.”

  “Guys like Charlie look for marks. Part of the game is finding that one person who’s unhappy. Figuring out the unmet need then meeting it. It’s sick, but it’s effective.”

  It was clear from the well-placed words that Beck had done his homework on Charlie and men like him. Not a surprise. That’s what Beck would do—look into the basis for the behavior and assess it. Try to make sense of it.

  Charlie Hanover . . . Sophie wanted to shove the guy. Call him up from the dead, scream at him for what he’d done to his wife and kids, then shove him and keep shoving until she figured out a way to give his family some peace. “I don’t like him very much, which seems disrespectful to say of the dead, but there.”

  Beck smiled. “Sounds pretty human to me. Certainly nicer than how Declan says it.”

  “Do you hate your dad?”

  “Sometimes. Most times, actually.” Beck’s fingertips crossed the top of her thighs and wandered into the warm space between her legs where their bodies connected. “But I do like this position.”

  The last of Sophie’s panic disappeared in a poof. “You’re getting off topic.”

  “To a much more interesting one.”

  She adjusted her position, opening her legs the tiniest bit, as his finger traced her opening. Much more of that and all rational thought would be gone.

  Sophie made one last reach for civilized discussion before concentrating on being on top of him. “You have every right to hate me after what I told you.”

  “I don’t. I couldn’t if I wanted to, and I sure as hell don’t want to.” He became more intense, his words more urgent. “But no more half-truths. I need the honesty.”

  They’d come around to the easiest part of the conversation. “You have it.”

  “What I have is you where I want you.”

  The erection pressing up inside her backed up his firm response. She had to smile over his ability to seduce and argue at the same time. Only Beck would have a serious conversation while pumping in and out of her. “You don’t strike me as numb right now.”

  Beck groaned. “Damn, honey. That feels good.”

  With the rough stuff behind them, Sophie changed the conversation to something much more fun. She wanted his eyes to flush that deep blue and his breathing to kick up.

  She nibbled on the rim around his ear. “I didn’t date in high school and missed out on most of the usual kid stuff because I was so afraid of being separated from my aunt. Like, if I left her side she would disappear.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Which was exactly what she needed to hear.

  “I missed so much by not experiencing anything.” Her mouth trailed a line down his neck. “But I want to try new things with you.”

  “You can have my body for whatever you want.”

  Her heart boomed in her chest, in her ears. Hell, she felt it thundering the whole way to her feet and bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning.

  The kisses continued to his cheeks, then to a light press against his lips. With his hands on her hips, he guided her in the start of a new rhythm.

  “Thank you for telling me the truth.” He whispered the words against her mouth. “And now we should celebrate the end to secrets.”

  Then his mouth covered hers and with his body straining inside her, all she could think about was the promise of what he wanted to do with her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Callen walked into the empty kitchen two nights after his mother’s impromptu trip to Oregon. His brothers tiptoed around him, doing a lot of staring and wincing at every noise. They clearly called her there and expected something big to happen.

  Whatever it was, Callen decided not to make the telling any easier. They knew something while he wallowed in darkness. He got the crappy end of this stick and could wait them out.

  But he couldn’t ignore her. Even now as he grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator, he sensed her come into the room behind him. Felt her presence the second before he heard her. The faint smell of vanilla and almond accompanied her soft steps.

  She hung around the house, barely leaving the building and never stepping over the property line. He understood why she stuck close. For years, the people of Sweetwater who lost everything blamed her, assumed she h
ad to know what Charlie planned.

  But Callen and his brothers knew the truth. Charlie did have a partner but it was Leah’s father, and possibly her mother. They’d discovered the truth before Leah moved in.

  Even now the estrangement with her father dragged on as he insisted on distance. He hid behind a purported hatred of the Hanovers, and maybe that was real, but Callen suspected the crushing guilt from having lied to Leah for all those years drove his actions. To protect Leah, they all agreed to keep her father’s secret from the town. There was no need for additional fallout from Charlie’s very first con.

  Callen turned around and watched his mother slip into a kitchen chair. She’d been so young when she married Charlie, barely nineteen, that she still looked young three grown children later. So graceful and still more attractive than women twenty years younger, she’d never remarried and didn’t buy her first home until a few years ago. She’d made something of her life, becoming a teacher and taking up painting, despite what Charlie did to her. Ignoring everything else, Callen admired her for that.

  He grabbed a second water bottle and headed for the table. As he placed one in front of her and pulled out a chair, he wondered what would happen when his mom eventually saw Leah’s dad. Marc Baron didn’t hide, so a meeting was inevitable, but that didn’t make the pending showdown any easier.

  But before she waded through old memories, Callen wanted her to deal with the reality in front of her. He snapped the lid off the bottle and held it between his hands. “Your trip here was sudden.”

  She ignored the bottle and stared at him with blue eyes the same shade as Declan’s. “I’ve been talking with you all by phone, including Leah, since you guys moved in. I thought it was time to come see how you’re all doing living together.”

  Nah, there was more than that. Callen could read people. It was the one gift Charlie gave him while he loaded him down with all the other shit.

  “Well, Declan and Beck are stupid in love. Beck doesn’t know it yet, but it’s coming.” And that was a day Callen dreaded because Beck, big brain and all, would fall hard and ugly. Probably make Declan look like a love-life expert, and he’d fumbled his way through the start of his relationship with Leah to the point where it was painful to watch.