“But you think he broke into your apartment.”
“While I wasn’t home,” she pointed out. “He’d never break in when I was there.”
“So you haven’t told Nate you think it was Max who broke in?”
She shook her head and set aside a pile of ATM receipts from 1999. “No.”
“You’re an idiot,” he muttered.
“Just keep looking,” she told him. She held up a lab book from freshman chemistry. “That woman never throws out anything.”
Charles held up a plastic container, a look of extreme distaste on his face. “Tell me about it. I think this is her retainer.”
“Ew.”
They worked in silence for a while, going through boxes and papers and piles of leftover childhood memorabilia in search of…something.
After an hour, Lily sat back with a sigh. “Okay, I give. I have no idea what we’re looking for.”
“Finally,” Charles muttered. He slapped the lid on the box of books he was searching through and stood up. “Can we get out of here?”
“Yeah, sure.” She trudged to her feet with a sigh of disappointment. “You didn’t find anything that looked like something important?”
“Not unless you think Max would be desperate to get his hands on Bridget’s ninth grade health class term paper on acne.”
“Probably not.” She leaned against the wall while Charles relocked the storage unit.
“You look very disappointed,” Charles said, and curled an arm around her shoulders as they walked to the car.
“I was sure we’d find something,” she said.
“You can always come back and look again. Without me,” he clarified.
“Fat lot of help you are,” she muttered.
Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her jeans. “Maybe that’s Bridget. Hello?”
“Where’d you take off to, beautiful?”
“Nate.” She held a finger to her lips, signaling Charles to be quiet, and ignored his look of exasperation. “Charles stopped by to take me to lunch.”
“Ah. I wondered. The cleaning crew said some incredibly handsome man came and spirited you away.”
She grinned as she climbed into the car. “Were you worried?”
“Nah,” he said. “You’re addicted to my macaroni and cheese and hot fudge sundaes.”
“They don’t hurt, but I don’t think that’s what I’m becoming addicted to,” she purred, and smacked Charles as he made gagging noises beside her in the driver’s seat.
“Really?” he said, his voice rumbling in her ear and causing goose bumps to pop out along her skin. “Maybe you should come home and we can discuss that.”
“I’d love to,” she said then caught Charles’ eye. “But I promised Charles a day at the spa, and we’re already running late for our first appointment.”
“Spa, huh? Well, that’s okay. I’ve got a new direction on the score after this morning’s meeting, so I can use the time in the studio.”
“How about I bring home dinner, and we’ll talk addictions,” she offered. “Chinese food?”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
She clicked off, smiling, then looked up when Charles cleared his throat. “What? Okay, why are you giving me the stink eye?”
“You lied to that man.”
“I did not,” she retorted.
“You did too. We did not have lunch.”
She held up a finger. “Aha. I said you stopped by to take me to lunch, I didn’t say we actually had it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Semantics, sweetie. You lied by omission.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Yes-huh. But don’t worry,” he said smoothly, smiling in a way that reminded her of a used car salesman. “I’ll let you treat me to one of those fabulous salads at the spa, and that way you won’t be a liar.”
“You’re all heart.”
* * * * *
Nate hung up the phone and tucked it into his pocket. “She’s fine.”
Detective Graham nodded. “I really don’t think she’s in any serious danger, Mr. MacIntyre. But the wedding dress is interesting.”
“Please, call me Nate.” He frowned down at the tattered remains of the dress he’d pulled out of the kitchen garbage. “She thinks I’m being overly protective, but with the phone calls and now this…”
“I understand,” Graham said. “But we recovered no fingerprints from the apartment other than yours, those of Ms. Michaels and a gentleman named,” he flipped open his notebook, “Charles Bouvier.”
“Her best friend,” Nate supplied. “He helped her move in.”
Graham made a notation in the book before closing it and slipping it back into his pocket. “Without anything else, we can’t even pull Mr. Carelli in to question him. However,” he continued, “if you’re truly concerned, I do have a friend in the private security business. He might be able to give you some peace of mind in the situation.”
Nate took the card Graham held out. “Keller Investigations,” he read. “They’re reputable?”
“Jonah Keller is the best in the business,” Graham assured him as he got to his feet.
“Great.” Nate held on to the card as he walked Graham to the door. “Thank you for all your help, Detective, I really appreciate it.”
Graham smiled. “Just part of the service. Please let me know if you think of anything else. And if you decide to hire Keller, let him know I referred you. He’ll keep me informed.”
“I’ll do that,” Nate promised. “Thanks again.”
He closed the door behind the detective and looked down at the card in his hand. He knew if he called in a private investigator without talking to Lily first, she’d be furious. The question was, was he concerned enough about her safety to deal with her anger if and when she found out?
“Yep,” he decided, and dug his phone back out of his pocket.
Chapter Fourteen
Lily knocked on Nate’s kitchen door that night with her hands full of Chinese takeout and a twinge of guilt in her heart. She ruthlessly squashed it and summoned a sunny smile when the door opened.
“Hi,” she chirped, and tilted her face up for his kiss.
“Hi, yourself.” He stepped back to let her in, relieving her of one of the bags of food as she passed. “How much food did you get?”
“I couldn’t decide what I wanted,” she explained, “so I got a little of everything.”
He’d opened one of the cartons and was breathing in the fragrant steam. “It smells great.” He started to unpack the cartons.
“Wait, don’t unpack it yet.”
“You’re not hungry?”
She laughed. “I’m starved, but I thought we could take it outside. It’s a gorgeous night for a picnic.”
He dropped another kiss on her smiling mouth. “I’ll grab a blanket. Why don’t you head out, pick a spot?”
He headed off to dig up a blanket, so she gathered the food together again and slipped back out the door. She wandered around the side of the house to the backyard in search of the perfect picnic spot.
She was trying to decide where to set down when Nate emerged from the house, blanket in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other.
“What do you think?” she called. “Under the oak tree or out in the open?”
“Out in the open,” he decided. “That way when it gets dark, we can see the stars.”
“I had no idea you were so romantic,” she chided gently as he spread the blanket.
“I’m a musician,” he reminded her. “A song writer. It goes with the territory.”
“Right.” She knelt on the blanket and started unpacking the first bag of food. “You know, I haven’t heard you play yet.”
“You haven’t?”
She shrugged and handed him a set of chopsticks. “Well, the occasional stray note drifts up from the studio when you’re working, but that doesn’t count.”
“No?” He passed her a beer.
She shook her head. “Nop
e. Since we’re dating, I think I rate a special, private performance.”
“I’ll give you a private performance,” he leered, and she laughed.
“Smooth talker. I want a private concert.”
“Now?” He stretched out on the blanket and reached for a carton of rice.
“No, of course not. But sometime.”
“I can do that,” he told her, and peered into the now empty bags. “Did you get any dumplings?”
She handed him a carton. “Pass me the moo goo gai pan?”
He slid a glossy white carton her way and fished out a dumpling, dipping it in ginger sauce before popping it in his mouth. “I didn’t think to grab plates.”
“Don’t bother,” she said, and dug into her own carton. “This is how takeout Chinese is supposed to be eaten.” She paused with the chopsticks halfway to her mouth. “Uh, where’s Beau?”
“Sleeping off his day,” he told her. “With the cleaners all over the place today and my conference call earlier, I didn’t want him to get in the way. My sister came and picked him up this morning. He spent the day at her house.”
“That was nice of her.”
He nodded. “Her kids love him, and they’ve got a huge fenced-in yard with a pool. He’s exhausted.”
“I bet.” She washed down chicken and vegetables with a swig of beer.
“So how was your spa day?”
Ignoring the renewed twinge of guilt, she smiled. “It was good. A massage always leaves me feeling like a limp noodle, all loose and relaxed. And Charles loves the seaweed wrap.”
An odd expression crossed his face. “That’s an interesting image.”
She grinned. “It’s better in real life, trust me. Anyway, it was a nice day. And since if it wasn’t for your cleaning crew I’d have spent the entire day shoveling out my apartment…” She leaned over to kiss his sticky lips. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He held out a dumpling for her to sample.
“Mmm. Those are good.”
“My favorites,” he told her, and popped another one in his mouth. When he’d swallowed, he said, “The cops were by today.”
“Yeah?” She stretched out on her side and reached for the carton of moo shoo pork. “Did they say anything?”
He shrugged. “Just that they didn’t have anything really. The only fingerprints in the place were yours, mine and Charles’.”
“Figures.”
“So unless something else happens, they’ll probably never figure out who did it. Oh, he told me to have you call him, give him the list of what was taken.”
She nodded, the twinge of guilt morphing into a full-blown spasm. “I’ll call him tomorrow.”
Before he could ask her what had been taken—and she was forced to lie outright—she said, “How does the apartment look?”
“Like nothing ever happened,” he assured her. “Except you don’t really have any clothes because I sent them all to the cleaners. They’ll be ready first thing tomorrow morning.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” she protested.
“I know,” he told her. “I wanted to.”
The expression on his face brooked no argument, and she was loathe to disrupt the quiet peace of the evening, so she just sighed. “Thank you.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome.”
“I replaced most of my makeup with samples from the spa today,” she told him. “They’ll at least get me through the next several days.”
“You’ll need new pillows too,” he reminded her.
She swallowed the mouthful of pork before replying. “I bought some on the way home, and new sheets. They’re in the car.”
He frowned, and she paused with her beer halfway to her lips. “What?”
“Are you planning on sleeping there tonight?”
“Yes.” She put down the beer with a sigh. “I have to sometime, Nate.”
He shook his head. “Sure, but I was hoping you’d wait until I had the security system installed.”
“What security system?”
“The one I ordered today.” Her face must have looked as mutinous as she suddenly felt because he held up a hand. “I know you said you didn’t want one—”
“I don’t need one,” she muttered.
“But I’m the landlord and I can put in a security system if I want to.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. But I’m still sleeping there tonight.”
“Fine. I’m sleeping with you.”
“Why, because you think I need protecting?”
“No, because it’s going to be hard to have sex with you if you’re in your house and I’m in mine.”
Grumpy and annoyed, she pushed food away. “Maybe I don’t want to have sex with you.”
He dropped a carton, scattering rice all across the blanket. “Excuse me?”
She sniffed. “Maybe I don’t want to have sex with you. You don’t think I can take care of myself or make sensible decisions.”
“I never said that.”
“You implied it.”
He shook his head, a baffled look on his face. “What’s wrong with my trying to make you a little safer?”
“Nothing, except I don’t need you to. You’re overreacting to this break-in.”
“You’re under-reacting to it,” he countered, and sat up. “It was probably a random home invasion, but why take the chance? If they broke in once, they might do it again, and any sensible person would take reasonable precautions against that.”
“See?” She pointed a finger at him. “You just said I wasn’t sensible.”
He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say that. I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about this.”
“Stubborn?” She drew a deep breath and tried to slow her racing heart. “I’m stubborn?”
“Stubborn,” he confirmed. “All I’m trying to do is take a few simple precautions, and you’re flying off the handle.”
“I don’t want your precautions!”
“Tough,” he said, and folded his arms across his chest. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Let me ask you a question.”
“What?” she ground out.
“If this had happened to anyone else, would you think that adding a simple home alarm system would be overreacting?”
She opened her mouth, a retort ready to spill out, then bit it back. “Probably not.”
“Okay then. Why is it overreacting when I want to do it?”
She didn’t say anything, trapped by her own deception. She couldn’t say, Because I already know who broke in and why, because then he’d want to know who. Which would lead to a much larger degree of protectiveness on his part since he already had his suspicions about Max. And the truth was, a security system wasn’t an overreaction to a simple home invasion, but she was overreacting to his protective urges.
She sighed, her gaze down on the blanket. “It’s not. I just don’t like the idea of living in fear.” There, that sounds credible.
“It’s not living in fear, it’s taking appropriate safety precautions,” he told her.
“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered. “I still don’t like it.”
“At the risk of repeating myself—tough.” He softened the words with a smile. “I’m the landlord, and if I want to put in a security system—”
“You’ll put in a security system,” she finished, a grin tickling her lips in spite of herself.
“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he told her, and the rest of her anger washed away with the laughter.
“You’re a jackass,” she told him, and flopped back to lie on the blanket.
“But charming, right?” he said, leaning over her.
“Maybe mildly charming,” she allowed, and had to fight back the laugh at the affronted look on his face.
“Mildly? Mildly? You stay here,” he told her, and got to his feet. He pointed a finger at her. “Stay right here, I’ll be right back.”
She watched him stalk away, tall and strong and willing to put himse
lf between her and danger. She sighed and turned her gaze to the sky. The stars were just beginning to wink to life, sparkling in the darkened sky like jewels.
She frowned as the thought of diamonds made her think of her earrings that hadn’t been stolen, and guilt swamped her again.
She shook it off deliberately. She wasn’t being deceitful, she reasoned, by not sharing her suspicions about Max with Nate. They were just suspicions at this point, there was nothing concrete to link Max to the break-in at her house. If she told him, it wouldn’t help anything, and it would just make his protective instincts kick into high gear.
“And they’re already in as high a gear as they need to be,” she muttered.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to him about it. It had been on the tip of her lips half a dozen times during the meal, ready to spill out, but she always pulled it back. She wanted to be sure, wanted to have something solid to link Max to the break-in before mentioning it to him.
She was a little surprised by how much she actually wanted to share it with him. She was used to doing for herself, handling all the problems and situations that cropped up in her life on her own without input from anyone else. Oh sure, her friends weighed in with their opinions just as she did when one of them had problems, but they didn’t actually have a vote. Ultimately what she did was her decision alone, and she wasn’t used to sharing that with someone.
She frowned, uncomfortable with the idea that she was so set in her ways that she couldn’t make room for anyone else. It was hard, sure, but she could do it. She was pretty sure she was falling in love with Nate, and knew she’d have to get used to sharing with him. Love was nothing without honesty, it couldn’t survive with secrets. And she would tell him her suspicions about Max, as soon as she had something besides gut instinct to go on.
The irony of that wasn’t lost on her, but before she could explore it further, Nate was back, dropping onto the blanket next to her with a triumphant look on his face. And a guitar in his hands.
She blinked. “What’s that for?”
“Mildly charming, huh?” He shot her a look as he settled cross-legged on the blanket, the acoustic instrument across his knees. “I’ll show you charming.”
Amused, Lily turned on her side and propped her head on her fist so she could watch him. He gave the strings a couple of testing strokes, frowned and gave the tuners a half turn then strummed the strings again.
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