A Simple Twist of Fate

by HelenKay Dimon

  Like she always did, his mom smiled at the mention of his brothers’ names. No question her love for them was unconditional and absolute. “What about you, Cal?”

  Callen skipped over the woman reference. “I’m trying to keep them from killing each other with power tools. Not that Beck knows what one is.”

  “I was asking about you, not them.”

  Sure she was. She did that a lot lately. Had for the last few years but it didn’t make up for the lost time before that. “I’m fine.”

  She reached her hand across the table but stopped short of touching him. “Callen, I know it’s strange for you being in this house.”

  “Why?”

  “You tend not to stay in one place for long.”

  “Wonder where I learned that.” He inched farther away from her and took a long drink of water, wishing for the first time in months that something else sloshed around inside there.

  She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her stomach. The chair squeaked as she swung one leg around from where it crossed over the other. “Since Charlie took you away so young, I’m not sure what you learned or how.”

  “Took me?” Talk about selective memory.

  “Yes, Callen. I’ve told you before that I didn’t have a choice.”

  If this was why she came, she’d wasted her time. He’d heard this justification loop so many times that it replayed in his dreams. She tried to sell this version for so long that he could say the words along with her. But that didn’t mean he wanted to hear them again.

  He stood up and swiped the bottle off the table. “Fine.”

  “Callen James Hanover.”

  That trick always worked. There was something about the way she used his whole name that stopped him every damn time. Despite their differences, he owed her respect as his mother. But the sadness moving in her eyes had him explaining and glancing away. “I’m heading up to bed.”

  She drummed her fingernails on the tabletop. “Then I guess I was wrong.”

  “About what?”

  “You are still running.”

  It was not like his mom to get shots in, but no matter what, this topic would never smooth over the rough patches in their relationship. “I signed papers for the house. I’m staying.”

  “I mean from me.”

  A return shot waited right there on his tongue to launch but he bit it back. “Goodnight, Mother.”

  ***

  The first annual Hanover dinner night had been postponed in favor of a welcome dinner for their mother. Even that date got switched around twice until they found a time when Tom could be there, though Beck was still unclear on when that guy’s attendance became mandatory.

  Whatever you called the dinner, it lasted exactly two minutes over an hour. Beck knew because he counted out each one. If all the get-togethers bumped along like this one had, he’d be fine if they made this family dinner thing a monthly instead of weekly event. Talk about odd. The conversation would twist and wind, they’d be passing food and laughing, then the discussion would shift and land between Callen and Mom, and sputter out.

  Those two needed to go into the woods and work out whatever pushed on them. While Cal was at it, he could open that stupid envelope and solve that mystery, too.

  But the woman holding his hand as they walked across the backyard . . . yeah, there was nothing about her Beck wanted to change. Memories of the other night’s talk revealing her aunt as one more Charlie conquest still made Beck’s back teeth slam together. She’d spilled the information and he wanted to storm out of the car and keep walking until he found a place where no one knew Charlie Hanover, though he was starting to wonder if there was such a fantasy place.

  If Sophie hadn’t been almost naked, if he hadn’t still been inside her, if he hadn’t been relaxed in a moments-after-hot-sex stupor. There were a thousand “if’s” that made the difference between holding it together and blowing everything apart when the sick news finally shot through him.

  Despite all the reasons to walk away, Beck made a decision. Charlie fucking ruined everything but Beck would not let him ruin this. Whatever he had with Sophie, still unsure and strangely fragile even as they climbed all over each other the second they found a private place, Beck refused to let the stain of Charlie’s memory touch it.

  “I don’t know if that was the most uncomfortable dinner ever, but there were moments when crawling under the table didn’t seem like such a bad idea,” Sophie said. The fading sun streamed through her dark hair as she led them toward the swing set.

  She said she’d never been on a swing set, so damn it if he didn’t insist they try it. It was spur of the moment and stupid, but it made her happy and that worked for him.

  He held back a fraction, letting his arm stretch out without losing contact with her. But at a short distance he could watch her and what he saw had him thinking he could look at her all day. It was as if sharing her aunt’s secret had freed her. She moved with a lighter step now. No more skulking around corners or trying to fade into the background. At dinner she talked and charmed until even Callen stopped scowling.

  She smiled with a renewed sense of freedom. And when she looked at him, Beck’s whole body clenched in anticipation.

  If only their current topic of conversation were as positive. “Callen and Mom. Yeah, that’s been strained for a long time.”

  “She kept trying to include him and he responded with these one-word answers. It was painful.” Sophie wrapped her hand around the metal pole Callen had shored up and Declan had painted only a few weeks ago.

  “And that was better than usual.” With his fingers still linked through hers, Beck brought her around to sit in the newly attached seat.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “He holds a grudge.” Beck stood in front of her with his hands locked around the silver chains that held the seat up.

  Sophie peeked up at him as she squinted against the last of sun’s rays. “You think he’s entitled.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Why didn’t she look for him after Charlie took him away?”

  And that was the question at the center of it all. Beck backed up to lean against the supporting side pole. “She insists she did.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  But he was. Beck had reasoned this out long ago. He’s spent months, years maybe, silently and in the back of his mind only, blaming his mother for losing their father then letting him come back years later and steal Callen away. As if she’d driven two members of their family away. The debate about blame drove a wedge between Beck and Declan that didn’t loosen until Declan joined the military.

  But now, as an adult, seeing all his mother survived, Beck fought off the rounds of guilt that came with the memories of what he once believed. “Honestly, those were the bad months and money was low and Charlie hid. I’m not sure what my mom could have done.”

  Sophie’s flats dragged against the concrete pad under the swing. Pebbles scraped under the heels as she shifted the twirled the swing from side to side. “Callen disagrees.”

  “He lived with Charlie shortly after turning ten and no one knows what happened. Cal won’t say.”

  She rocked back and forth on her heels, moving forward, catching, then swinging back. “What a mess.”

  Watching her, he wondered if he could add just playing outside to the list of things she’d never done. The idea made him want to fly to Seattle and shake her aunt. Sophie came to Shadow Hill, risking everything by walking into a house with men she didn’t know, men who could have been like Charlie or worse. And she made all those sacrifices, including giving up the receptionist job she told him about last night, for a woman who seemingly did nothing to encourage and support the young girl dumped in her care.

  The situation sucked and the accident that dumped a child in their laps had to b
e shocking, but thinking about a teen Sophie with few friends and so afraid of being left behind made Beck want to kick something. His upbringing had been far from perfect but he always knew his mother loved him and would do anything for him. He wondered if Sophie had ever known that comfort.

  “You have to love families,” he said more to the air than as a conversation starter.

  “Honestly, I kind of do love yours.”

  So did he, especially now with the wisdom of age and a bit of hindsight, but there was something about hearing her say it that lightened his mood. “Is it the criminal past, the dysfunction or the general chaos that turns you on?”

  “The bond.”

  She gets it. Beck smiled. “Even Callen?”

  She stared at the ground as she used the toe of her shoe to line up three rocks. “In those moments when he doesn’t scare me.”

  The words skidded through him. No, that wasn’t okay. Beck couldn’t let her think that way. Cal had flaws, but not that.

  Beck stepped up, catching the chains in his hands as he stopped her swinging short. “You know he’d never hurt you, right? He’s not that type of guy.”

  She glanced up at him, her neck so long and inviting and with amusement dancing in her eyes. “I get that, but his stare can do enough damage.”

  “Speaking of families.”

  “That’s a freaky-sounding transition.”

  Beck had a point but leaned down to kiss her before he made it. He meant to go in and out, just a quick peck. The way her fingers dipped into his hair and tugged him closer stopped that. The heat rose and he had to pull back before he gave the family a surprise show from the kitchen window.

  He winked at her. “I’m happy to treat you to freaky later, preferably when we’re not out in the yard where everyone can see.”

  “Not using a swing, I hope.” She rattled the chains. “Why is this here again?”

  “What, you think it’s odd for a seventy-something woman to have a swing set?”

  “Little bit.”

  He shifted to stand behind her and gave her back a gentle push. Not high and not far, but enough for her to lift her feet off the ground.

  “We can’t figure it out. It was here back when Leah’s family owned the house. Her father actually built it for her.”

  “Which explains why Declan wanted to refurbish it. For Leah.” Sophie’s voice carried on the soft warm breeze. “It’s sturdy and looks nice, so that’s something.”

  “But there aren’t kids here, so this project definitely falls into the making-the-woman-happy category. Declan did it for Leah.” The poor schmuck. Declan would have ripped the house down with his bare hands if that’s what it would have taken to win her over. Thank God it hadn’t come to that.

  But they had changed course from selling the place to all moving in. Beck still wasn’t sure how his life spun off the rails so far. He’d had a plan when he first stepped on the property: get in, clean it up, sell, then get back to work. None of that happened. Now he needed to finish a work trip through Nevada but couldn’t find the will to leave Sophie.

  She planted her feet and swiveled around. Metal clanked against metal as the chains twisted. “That’s sweet.”

  “If by that you mean insane.”

  “To be really romantic Declan should have carved their names in the wet cement so they could see it as they grew old together.” Sophie brushed her foot over the unbroken concrete.

  Beck wasn’t quite sure what all that was about, but he now understood his woman had a romantic streak. Good to know. “We didn’t put the concrete down. That was here and in good condition. As for the actual swing set, half falling over, that amounted to a lawsuit waiting to happen, so we fixed it.”

  “Weird.”

  “Like everything else around here.” But Beck didn’t want to talk swings or houses or Declan. “I do have a favor to ask.”

  “I think I’ve proven I’ll say yes to most things you suggest.”

  His mind zipped back to the car. Getting her in the backseat and out of her pants proved easy. Getting her out of his head for more than ten seconds a day was the tricky part. And as the days passed, he wasn’t sure he wanted her out.

  “Don’t say anything to my brothers and Mom about your aunt’s jewelry.”

  Sophie balanced the side of her head against the chain in her right hand. Her hair fell over her shoulders and her nose wrinkled as if she were reasoning out some big question. “I thought you hated secrets.”

  “I do.”

  “Then you can see where I might be confused by your request.”

  “It’s a timing issue. Callen still hasn’t opened that stupid envelope. He and Mom continue to circle the issues they need to work out.” Beck shook his head, trying to say what he wanted in a way that didn’t make him a total hypocrite. “I just think—”

  Sophie stopped his words with a touch of her hand against his leg. “I get it.”

  “But after all my talk of how secrets destroy, you think I’m—”

  “Trying to take care of your family, just as I was taking care of my aunt.” Sophie’s hand squeezed his leg then dropped.

  “Wow, I see what you did there.” She wrapped it all up, nice and neat, and had him rethinking all his lectures about separating the parts of her life.

  She wiggled her eyebrows. “Impressive, right?”

  So impressive that he had to beat back the need to throw her over his shoulder and take her upstairs to bed. “You made your point.”

  The amusement faded from her eyes as she grabbed for his hand. “I don’t want anyone in your family or mine hurt.”

  He dropped down on the balls of his feet and crouched in front of her so he could see her eye to eye. “I promise that once some of the pressure is off I’ll get the entire family to help search.”

  Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. “You brothers may not be as understanding.”

  That’s the part she got wrong. “We fight and argue, but there is one thing we always agreed on. If we find any of the stuff Charlie stole, we’ll do everything we can to make sure the victims get it all back.”

  She had his hand in both of hers now. “And to think you believed you were like Charlie in any way.”

  “We know what it’s like to be used by him, and it sucked.”

  She leaned over and kissed him. Just long enough for her tongue to slip inside before she sat back again. “No talking about the jewelry. We’ll save that reveal for later.”

  “No talking about it and no searching. For now you come in and out of the house as my girlfriend. If you want to keep cleaning, we’ll keep paying you, but it’s separate.”

  She kissed his hand. “I like that you use the word when you talk about me.”

  “Cleaning?”

  “Aren’t you funny?” She laughed at his joke but her smile soon disappeared. “But my aunt does need the jewelry back. My uncle has been asking questions and wants it appraised, so there is a sense of urgency.”

  “If it’s here we’ll get it to her. But not now. No searching now.” Beck went down to his knees, trapped between Sophie’s legs as he wanted to be; she slipped his arms around her waist. “You can’t fix everything for your aunt . . . and why are you smiling?”

  “I’m thinking we can both stand to learn that lesson.”

  He’d been the repair guy for so long that it was all he knew. “I fix for a living.”

  “I prefer when you play teacher.”

  He shifted her to the front of the thin black strip of a seat. “Then tell me what you want to learn and I’ll tell you how little you need to wear.”

  “I’m liking you on your knees. We can start there.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Beck sensed the conversation coming. It hovered on her tongue. Sat right there waiting to knock him off stride.

>   The Talk.

  He’d spent an hour with his mother, buying groceries and some stuff for the house. He thought they had enough sheets and pillows. She disagreed, and who was he to argue when his mother was on a mission. Not that she gave him a second to try. She kept up a nonstop line of talk, circling and sometimes hitting on the subject he knew interested her the most.

  At first he thought it was just luck of the draw that he’d been standing at the bottom of the staircase this morning when she declared she needed to get out of the house for some fresh air. There was a huge backyard of it right there, but she insisted they get in the car just for a few minutes.

  Right. Now he knew better. She’d dropped Sophie’s name a dozen times in an hour. Even added a comment about it being time he stopped traveling and found a home. Not exactly the most subtle mother-son moment ever.

  But they were headed back to the car and home, which Beck knew meant his time had expired. Any minute now she’d—

  “I like her.”

  Uh-huh. “Who?”

  His mom stopped even though the light indicated they could cross and slip down a few blocks and right into the car. She stared at him with her patented nice try face. She’d been using that one for years, always with great success. “Don’t play dumb.”

  “Wanted to see how forthcoming you’d be.”

  She pushed her hair out of her eyes and ignored the cars driving by. “I’m not trying to hide the question.”

  “Clearly.”

  “I’m talking about Sophie.” Mom wrapped her fingers around her purse strap. “She’s good for you.”

  He balanced the bags of milk and bread and whatever else his mother picked up and stuffed in there. Interesting how she’d waited until he was weighed down in both hands to hit him with a love-life interrogation.

  “Beck? I’m waiting.”

  And she wasn’t letting this subject go.

  It’s not as if he wanted to engage in a game of hide-and-seek, but he’d barely gotten his footing with Sophie. He finally stopped reeling after learning about Sophie’s connection to Charlie, but that didn’t mean he had any idea how to handle his feelings for her. Or even what those were.