by Meg Benjamin
She tried to study them without being too obvious. They were all well over six feet, but it looked like Erik was the tallest. Pete was maybe the shortest, although in this case short was definitely a relative term. Cal and Lars seemed to be about the same size.
All of them had the same broad shoulders and muscular bodies, whether they wore uniforms or denim shirts or, in Lars’s case, a navy blue knit shirt that set off his dark eyes.
That was another thing they all had—eyes the color of strong coffee, or maybe molasses. Dark hair, too, with lengths ranging from Cal’s shagginess to Erik’s almost military clip.
They took their plates to the living room, where they sat on the couch and loveseat or, in Cal’s case, sprawled on the floor.
Or rather three of them did. Erik sampled some of the cold cuts and carrot sticks, then wrapped some fried chicken in a napkin and headed for his cruiser. His brothers nodded goodbye as he walked through the room.
Jess frowned. There was something between the other three and Erik, but she didn’t know them well enough to decipher it. And it certainly wasn’t any of her business.
At her seat at the dining room table, she fed Jack a couple of slices of deli turkey that she’d chopped into bits, along with a few spoonfuls of pureed squash. Jack gave her an enthusiastically orange grin.
After everyone had finished first and second helpings, Docia stood and clapped her hands. “Okay, everybody into the dining room. Time for peach cobbler à la mode and discussion straight.”
Jess couldn’t say she was surprised. This hadn’t struck her as a social visit. So now the fun part would start. She lifted Jack out of his chair, wiping his face and hands, and placed him in her lap.
“All right.” Docia stood at the end of the dining room table, her hands on her hips. “Now you’ve been fed. So now you get to start in on the real work of the evening. What are we going to do about this situation?”
“What situation?” Pete raised an eyebrow, but Jess had a feeling he was just jerking Docia’s chain.
So did Docia. “Oh, knock it off. You know very well what. We can’t let Jess deal with this alone. And we can’t let anything happen to either Jess or Jack. So what’s the plan?”
Pete turned to Jess. “The easiest solution is the one we’ve all been suggesting ever since this problem started—move into town. We all have space for you at our houses, and you’d be welcome.”
“Like I said before, you can take my house,” Lars cut in. “Daisy and I can move in with Pete and Janie.”
Jess sighed. “The problem with that is the same one I’ve had all along. I have a job to do here, and I can’t do it in town. Mrs. Carmody isn’t here for me to consult, but when I took over as manager, I agreed to live on the premises. If I’m in Konigsburg, I can’t do that.”
Janie shook her head. “Why do you need to be out here? What do they need you for?”
“Emergencies. If the toilet backs up in the middle of the night, I’m supposed to either unblock it or call a plumber.”
“Have you done that?” Janie looked like she was trying not to grimace.
“Not the toilet, no, but I’ve had to call the cable guys and electricians. And I’ve had to mop up a disaster when some couple mistook the whirlpool for a hot tub and tried to do a few things that the tub wasn’t designed to accommodate.”
Jess shuddered at the memory. The guy had been wearing a towel when she got there and it had definitely not demonstrated his hunk status.
“Maybe you could leave your cell phone number with the guests,” Janie began, and then stopped. “But that wouldn’t work, would it? You still might have to come out here in the middle of the night to take care of the problem. And this Haggedorn person might have your phone number.”
Jess felt a drip of ice down her spine. She hadn’t thought about the possibility of Barrymore/Haggedorn calling her out after midnight.
Lars leaned forward, his gaze catching hers. “What do you want, Jess? How can we help you? What do you need us to do?”
Jess bit her lip. Something in his voice made her throat tighten. She stared back into his deep molasses gaze. “Help me make it safe to be here. Show me what to do. I’m always trying to take care of things after Haggedorn’s done something to us, or tried to do something. Show me how to make it so he can’t even try.”
Pete ran a hand across his jaw. “You could put in an alarm system, but you’d have to get Mrs. Carmody’s okay. They’re not cheap, and I have a feeling she wouldn’t be too excited about paying a lot of money for something like that.”
“Netta Carmody?” Docia shook her head. “Sorry, not a chance. Netta’s got the tightest fists I know of. Besides, getting in touch with her at this time of year would be a bitch. She’s off on her world cruise, right?”
Jess nodded. “Right. To the South Seas and Japan. She told me she wouldn’t be back until January. Which is another reason I can’t quit my job here. It wouldn’t be fair to her.” Of course, if she and Jack took off in the middle of the night for parts unknown, Mrs. Carmody would be out of luck. Jess pushed that thought aside a little guiltily.
Janie sighed. “That’s probably the first time the words ‘fair’ and ‘Netta Carmody’ have ever been associated. But I understand what you’re saying.”
“The main problem, as I see it, is that you’re alone out here,” Cal mused. “I could probably find you a watch dog, but after what happened to Sweetie, you’d need to keep it in the house. And I’m not sure how that would work with Daisy and Jack.”
“Thanks, but I really don’t want another dog.” Jess managed a tight smile. “I would like to take Sweetie back when he recovers, though, if that’s okay.”
She glanced at Daisy as she colored a picture in a corner of the room, paying no attention to the nattering of the adults.
Cal nodded. “Of course, you can have him. Believe me, we’ll be delighted for you to have him. He’s starting to get back on his feet again, and he’ll be eating us out of house and home by the end of the week.”
“How big is this place?” Lars leaned forward in his chair, staring around the living room.
“Around two thousand feet.” Jess shrugged. “Why?”
“No, I mean how many bedrooms?”
“Three. Four if you count the little study off the living room, the room with the bower.”
All the Toleffsons were staring at him now. Jess had a feeling they were holding their collective breath.
Lars nodded. “Okay. Daisy and I can move in. Daisy can share Jack’s room, and I’ll take the spare bedroom. That way you won’t be alone out here. And if you get some emergency call from the guest cabin at night, I can go with you. That should keep you safe for the time being.”
“We’re gonna live here?” Daisy piped. “Can I sleep with Jack?”
Jess blinked. The entire room had become very quiet indeed.
“No, Dais,” Lars said gently. “Jack needs to sleep in his crib. We’ll find another place for you.”
Janie gave Lars a very bright smile. “How about if Daisy stays with us? We’ve got all those bedrooms.”
“No!” Daisy cried. “I wanna stay with Jack. Daddy, you promised!”
Lars grinned. “Actually, I didn’t. But I’d rather you were with us too, pumpkin.”
Daisy grinned back, then picked up another crayon and went back to her picture.
Janie glanced back at Lars, her forehead furrowed. “Do you really think it’s safe? I mean, it might be better if we took both Daisy and Jack.”
“Or Jack could stay with us,” Docia chimed in.
Jess’s chest tightened. “No,” she blurted. She took a breath as they all turned toward her, then touched her cheek to Jack’s silky hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but no, I can’t let Jack go. I just can’t.”
Docia stared down at Jack’s baby smile, her cheeks suddenly pink. “I don’t blame you a bit, sweetheart.”
“Okay, time out, let’s have some coffee. And w
e need to get some of these dishes taken care of.” Cal stood, heading toward the kitchen with Docia at his heels.
Jess let them. She figured this was the Toleffsons’ party and they could jolly well clean up too.
Pete stepped beside her, smiling down at Jack. “There’s one problem with all of this,” he said.
Jess wondered if he was referring to the sexual tension she already felt whenever she spent more than five minutes alone with Lars. That was going to make it lots of fun to have him around for extended periods of time.
“It takes care of the situation for now,” Pete went on. “But it doesn’t solve the ultimate problem with your in-laws.”
“I guess I could get the protective order you talked about.” Jess shifted Jack so that he wasn’t resting quite so much on one of her knees.
Pete nodded. “You should. It might shake something loose. But the guy who’s already here may not be affected by it.”
“Lorne Barrymore?”
“Barrymore, Haggedorn, whatever his name is. I’d feel a lot better about this if we could find him.”
“I thought Erik did find him.” Lars leaned forward in his chair again. “Or he found where he was staying, anyway.”
“Looks like he’s checked out. Erik stopped by to talk to the desk clerk.”
“Does that mean he wasn’t the one who hurt Sweetie?”
Pete shook his head. “It may mean he knows we’re onto him and he’s staying somewhere else. Like I say, I’d be happier if we knew where he was.”
“So would I.” Jess shivered.
“I guess what I’m saying is, just because Lars moves in, that doesn’t mean Haggedorn moves on. He’s got a job to do.”
Jess took a deep breath. “Well he won’t do it here. Not this time.”
Pete nodded. “Not if we can help it, ma’am.” He turned to Lars. “All the same, watch your back, bro.”
“I will.” Lars frowned. “And that brings up another problem.”
“What?” Cal leaned in the doorway, coffeepot in his hand.
“What about tonight?”
The room grew quiet again. Jess chewed on her lower lip. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, Haggedorn took out Sweetie so he could get access to the house. Who’s to say this isn’t the night he planned on breaking in? You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”
Jess’s heart thudded so hard against her ribs she was sure everyone in the room could hear it. “I…hadn’t thought about that.”
“What do you suggest, Lars?” Cal set the coffee pot down on the table.
“Daisy?” Lars turned toward his daughter. “I think you should stay with Aunt Janie and Uncle Pete tonight. I need to stay out here with Mrs. Carroll and Jack.”
Predictably, Daisy wanted to stay too. And predictably, she wasn’t delighted when Lars told her she couldn’t. She seemed headed for a major, screaming meltdown until Janie pointed out that she didn’t have her pink pajamas or her bunny blanket and thus wasn’t really ready to stay overnight at Jess’s house.
Lars had no idea why that worked—he was just glad it did.
Bolstered by Janie’s promise to help her pack, Daisy reluctantly let Pete move her car seat over to his Acura. She refused to kiss Lars goodnight, thrusting her lower lip forward like a perch on a bird feeder.
“See you tomorrow, sweetheart,” he murmured, as Janie rolled up her window.
Which left him alone with Jess and Jack.
He’d already decided he wouldn’t be an asshole about this. The way to go was to basically ignore any attraction between them.
Right. Like that was really going to be possible.
Jess had gone to put Jack to bed, which gave Lars a brief reprieve. If he’d had to look at those dimples for five more minutes, he’d have had to touch her cheek, just to see if it felt as soft as it looked.
Blondes. Why did she have to be blonde? You’d think after Sherice, he’d have developed a permanent aversion to any hair color lighter than, say, squirrel. But then Sherice’s platinum had never been natural, and he had the bills to prove it.
Jess’s dark gold looked more than natural. It looked absolutely right, even when it was slightly spiked, the way it got when she ran her fingers through it.
Lars felt himself hardening, and gritted his teeth. So not appropriate, you moron. You’re here to protect her from the bogeyman, not become a bogeyman on your own time.
He heard her step in the hall and smoothed his expression into something that might pass for bland as she came into the living room.
For just a moment her gaze caught his before she looked away quickly. “Let me show you the spare bedroom before I do anything else. It’s right across the hall from the bathroom so you can wash up if you want to. Unfortunately, I don’t have anything like a razor right now.” She flushed, biting her lip. “I mean, not that I would have a razor normally, but…”
“That’s okay. I’ll stop by my place to change before I go to the office tomorrow anyway.” Lars started to move into the hall, hoping she’d take the hint.
After a moment, she did. She walked to the end, opening the last door on her right. “In here.”
The bedroom had a bed, a chair, and a battered dresser that looked like it had come from a no-tell motel somewhere. A couple of light-colored blouses hung in the otherwise empty closet.
Right. Well, it wasn’t supposed to be a weekend at the Ritz, after all.
Jess sighed. “Sorry it looks so bleak. I didn’t have any time to fix it up. It just has the furniture that was here when we moved in, like the rest of the house.”
Lars managed to push the corners of his mouth up into a fake-hearty grin. “Don’t worry—I’ve stayed in worse. It looks a little like my dorm room at college before my mom got her hands on it.” After which it had looked like a warehouse for discarded Toleffson furniture. But nobody could say it was bleak anymore.
“Okay, well, I’ll let you get settled.” Jess turned and headed back toward the dining room.
Lars wasn’t sure what he was supposed to settle since he didn’t have anything with him except his wallet, his keys and a pocket knife. He checked the bathroom, which looked a lot more lived in, given the clothes line in the shower that contained Jack’s pajamas.
He sighed again, trying to ignore the way Jess’s silken nightgown hanging on the door made his groin tighten. He hadn’t really wanted a shower anyway.
He could hear the sound of running water from the kitchen. After a moment, he walked back down the hall again.
Jess stood at the sink, stacking a few plates in a dishpan. Lars grabbed a dishtowel off the refrigerator door handle.
“I thought Cal got your dishwasher loaded before he left.”
“He did. These are just a few leftovers. It’s easier to wash them in the sink.”
Lars took a dish out of her hand, propping it in the drainer on the counter. “Sorry about the way they all descended on you like that. I didn’t ask them to.”
Jess shrugged. “It’s okay. I appreciate their concern. It’s been a while since I’ve been around a big family.”
“You don’t have any relatives?” Lars shook the few remaining drops off a coffee cup and propped it at the side.
“My dad died a few years ago. My mom died when I was little. I’ve got an uncle someplace, but I haven’t kept in touch with him. That’s one of the reasons Lydia could isolate me—no family to step in.”
“Of course, it also made it harder for her to trace you.”
“Right. So there are compensations.” Jess’s voice was dry. She put a couple of glasses into the dishpan.
Lars picked up a plate from the drainer and began drying. “Well, there are lots of Toleffsons around. More than enough, some people in town would tell you.”
“How did you all end up here?”
“Cal came down here first, then Pete and I came down for his wedding, and both of us decided to move down too. After my marriage broke up, that is.” One of the mor
e interesting features of Cal’s wedding extravaganza. Like her morals, Sherice’s timing left something to be desired.
Jess propped the last few dishes in the drainer, watching him dry. “What about Erik?”
“Erik? I guess I forgot about him.” He frequently did. Maybe deliberately. “Erik moved down here about the same time I did.”
“Is there…” Jess rubbed a hand across the back of her neck. “Do you guys have some problem with Erik? I mean, you don’t seem as close to him as you do to each other.”
Lars set the glass down carefully in the cupboard, then reached for a plate. “Erik’s three years older than Pete, which means he’s four years older than me and six years older than Cal. He didn’t much like the competition.”
“Competition?”
Right. She didn’t have any brothers and sisters. “He was sort of the big brother from hell for most of the time we were growing up. He did everything he could to make our lives miserable, even though our parents did their best to keep him off us. Once we grew up enough to defend ourselves, he lost interest. But around then he started hanging out with the limited number of juvenile delinquents in Lander, Iowa, which meant he caused our folks a whole new set of problems.”
He glanced down at the plate in his hands—he’d been drying it for at least five minutes. He set it on the shelf next to the glass. “Anyway, he didn’t have a particularly happy childhood, and he tried to make sure we didn’t either.”
“But you get along now?”
Lars stared down at the dishtowel in his hands. Did they? He hadn’t really stopped to think about it lately. “Yeah. I guess we do. He’s pulled himself together, stopped drinking, got a degree in criminal justice and become a cop. Sometimes it’s still hard to believe, but it’s true.”
“He seems…” Jess picked up a sponge, running it around the sink for a moment. “It’s like he’s trying to stay out of your way. Helping, but…not in your face.”
Lars nodded. “That’s a fair assessment. We’ve still got a lot of landmines to deal with.”
“I can understand that, but I appreciate the help he’s given me anyway.”