“And that woman, Kristin something?” Beck was pacing now, as if in the front of a courtroom and on the hunt for evidence.
“No clue,” Callen said.
After a few more dizzying steps, Beck stopped. “I could talk with her.”
The wrench dropped to the ground with a dull thud as Callen shook his head. “We aren’t feeding the crazies.”
The answer sent Beck back to his pacing. Declan had to smile. When his baby brother slipped into trial mode, it was hard to spin him out of it again.
“Let’s try an easier question. Can anyone tell me why we’re fixing this swing set instead of tearing it down?” Beck asked, as if they’d been out there for hours even though the time on the job was more like fifteen minutes.
Callen scoffed. “We?”
“It once belonged to Leah.” To Declan that said it all. She’d lost so much. When he’d watched her eyes go all soft and gooey as she ran her hand over the paint-chipped metal he knew he could give her this. It had sentimental value to her, and that made him want to preserve it for her.
Beck kicked the screwdrivers Callen had tossed around and left on the ground when he realized a wrench was the answer. “Then she should be out here painting it.”
“She had to go to work for a few hours then was going to try to talk with her dad. That lawyer friend of his called to set it up.” It took all Declan’s energy to say the words in a civilized manner.
Just thinking about Leah alone with her father made Declan want to tear the swing set down with his bare hands. The only reason he’d backed off from his relentless insistence that he go with her was that she promised Ed would be there. Declan didn’t know him, but he’d stepped up when needed at the meeting, so Declan was willing to give him a shot.
And then there was the part where Leah didn’t give him a choice. She made it clear he wasn’t invited because seeing him would only make her father more furious. Declan had pushed the disappointment to the side when he realized she was right, but it still throbbed just under the surface.
“Is that a good idea?” Callen asked.
Exactly what Declan had wondered all morning. “No, but I couldn’t talk her out of it.”
“You could be there with her.”
Declan wasn’t sure when Callen had become Leah’s champion, but Declan liked the idea. “Yeah, because seeing me calms Marc Baron right down.”
Callen made a face then nodded. “Good point. Even without the Charlie angle, no man wants to hang out with the guy sleeping with his daughter.”
“Speaking of Leah, any chance you want to tell us what went wrong before the town meeting that had you kicking around here all lovesick and pathetic?” Beck finally stopped walking around in circles. “We’re living together, putting this craphole back together, so skip the stalling. I’d rather be armed with the information than face another surprise visit like we got this morning. Thanks again for that, Callen.”
“Under your theory, nothing is private around here.” Declan understood, but full disclosure was not going to happen. Not yet.
He intended to go at least one day without ticking Leah off again and getting his anger all riled up and kicking. He’d specifically stayed away from the topic of the whiteboard and what he’d seen in her bedroom in favor of securing a bond with her, tenuous but still there. They could work through the worst of it later.
And if he told his brothers about the whiteboard, any chance of them getting to know her and liking her was over. Callen would never accept that kind of disloyalty, not on top of Leah paying for an investigator to follow him. Beck would be more accepting but wary. Declan didn’t want either of them going off on her. He’d barely come to grips with the whiteboard and he was sleeping with her. No way would they understand.
Callen rubbed the bottom of his work boot against the lower step, looking like he had no intention of getting back to work until he got some answers. “Not when it impacts you and this house and our possible lynching by Leah’s father.”
Seeing two sets of eyes staring at him, Declan gave in. A little. “I’d ignored our conflicting pasts, and they came up and smacked the shit out of me.”
Callen swore under his breath. “That’s half lawyer-speak and half-nonsense.”
They staring continued without any sign of stopping, so Declan tried again. “She spent a lot of years feeding her father’s Charlie obsession. Since Dad broke up the Baron marriage, I can see why it’s hard for the guy to walk away from his desire for revenge.”
“I’m trying to imagine him as your father-in-law.” Callen laughed as he said it.
Bile bubbled in Declan’s stomach at the thought. “Think about something else.”
Beck stepped in closer. Still didn’t pick up a paintbrush or screwdriver. “You saying you’re not heading that way?”
“We have a mountain of baggage to wade through before we get past where we are now.” The conversation had spun into a twisted relationship talk. Declan wanted out of the free fall. “And this conversation is over.”
“So, we have to hear you having sex but can’t know anything else?” Callen gave a tsk-tsking sound. “Doesn’t seem fair.”
The sudden drumming behind Declan’s eyes had him blinking. “You didn’t—”
“Good news is she sounds pretty happy with whatever you’re doing in the bedroom.”
Oh, no. This almost guaranteed Leah would kill him. “Don’t pretend you can hear.”
“Sorry man.” Beck clapped Declan on the back. “Thick walls and we’re spaced apart, but when you come up the steps you can—”
“That’s fucking fabulous.”
Callen chuckled. “Isn’t that what I just said about your performance in the bedroom?”
“Enough talk. Work.” Yeah, Declan was right. The least he could do was get this swing set fixed for Leah. If she found out about the noise thing, it might be the last thing he did before she killed him.
Chapter Nineteen
Leah dropped into the booth at the diner and tried to piece her scattered thoughts back together. Ed had promised to act as a bridge with her father. He’d said he could bring them together to talk and would be there to keep things calm.
The whole idea had flipped Declan into protective mode, which sent a little thrill shooting through her. Before leaving the house, she assured him everything would be fine. She’d been dead wrong. Her father refused to see her and Ed admitted he hadn’t actually brokered the promised meeting as much as hoped it would occur.
Even now she sat at a table on the side near the back of the diner, ignoring the stares from the surrounding patrons. Some gave her sympathetic smiles. Others not so much. Fury vibrated off a table of four older men when she walked by.
Any one of these people could be behind the fire or the knife or both. For the first time in her life she didn’t feel safe in her hometown, the same place she trumpeted in marketing brochures and to potential investors. When the water glass and cup of tea hit the table, she seriously considered not taking a drink of either. A voice in her head screamed for her to run back to Shadow Hill and Declan.
But she was a grown woman and she had to take responsibility for her actions since that’s what she dared the town to do. She’d known when she stood up at that meeting that some people would disagree with her. Hiding behind Declan’s impressive shoulders wasn’t the answer. Oh, she’d be careful but she wasn’t going to roll in a ball in the corner.
Her thoughts zipped back to Declan and his shoulders . . . and every other perfectly sculpted, fat-free part of him. She dumped her purse on her lap and dug around for her phone. “It’s here somewhere.”
“Ms. Baron?”
The female voice caused Leah to jump and her purse took a tumble. Figured the zipper was open. Her luck continued its nosedive. Wallet, checkbook and various must-have item
s spilled all over the dirty linoleum floor. Her favorite lipstick made a break for it, rolling two booths away.
Grumbling as she carefully avoided a piece of discarded gum, she bent down and collected everything within reach. Sitting up again, she came face to face with Kristin Accord.
“We met last week,” the woman said before she scooped up the wayward lipstick and handed it over.
There was no way Leah could forget the prior meeting or anything that had happened over the last few days. “You’re the lady who was looking for Callen.”
“I understand you’re close with the family.”
Leah let the words tumble around in her brain. She wasn’t sure what she was to Declan, let alone the entire family. If someone asked her where she wanted to be, how close she wanted to stay, that answer was easy. By Declan’s side.
The woman didn’t need to know any of those pieces. “That’s probably an overstatement.”
“I hear you’re dating Declan Hanover.”
No way was Leah touching that. She preferred her tag of testing to the word dating. Dating sounded like high school and there was nothing juvenile about her feelings for Declan. “What do you want, Ms. Accord?”
“Some assistance getting Callen’s attention.” Without being asked, the woman slid into the seat across from Leah. “It’s imperative I talk with him as soon as possible.”
Leah looked around to see who was watching. When the scene turned up a quiet room and strangely little activity, she lowered her voice. Even the cook hovered by the coffee pots instead of back in the kitchen. “Why?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It does if you have any hope of me helping you.” Though Leah put the percentage of that happening at about ten percent regardless of what the woman said. The Hanover brothers had enough people demanding their attention and sniping at them for money and apologies that weren’t theirs to make. Leah refused to add to that load.
Kristin smoothed her finger along the edge of the table. Her nail traced the metal outlining the edge. “There is this FBI agent. He’s been following Callen.”
Suddenly Walker Reeves was everywhere. Leah wondered how he’d snuck into town and skulked around without becoming the main topic of conversation. He didn’t exactly blend. The dark suit gave him away, especially now that she knew his occupation. It was as if he’d stepped right out of a bad movie and into Sweetwater.
But Kristin did know the guy, and that started the wheels spinning in Leah’s brain. She tried to make connections and spark a memory, but whatever was causing this feeling that she was missing something important lingered just out of reach. “How do you know about Reeves? He doesn’t strike me as the type to share information.”
Some of the rigid determination left Kristin’s face as the lines around her mouth eased. “I would ask you the same question.”
Leah weighed the pros and cons of saying anything and figured giving a bit could lead to Kristin spilling something of value. “Reeves found Callen. They met each other before coming to Sweetwater and they talked again yesterday.”
“Met.” The repeat of the word took on a ghostly ring.
Leah replayed her comments. She’d said almost nothing, but the older woman’s reaction, from the stark look in her eyes to the echo in her voice, said the simple exchange meant something. “Does that surprise you?”
“About what?”
“Excuse me?”
“What did they meet about?” Kristin leaned in close. If she was trying to be covert she failed miserably. Desperation trickled off her and more than one person turned to take a look at them. “Be specific.”
It wasn’t even the rapt nosy audience that bothered Leah. No, she blamed Kristin for the temptation to shift in her seat. Leah didn’t much care for being ordered around by someone she didn’t know. Wasn’t all that fond of it from people she did know either. She’d gotten enough of that from her dad growing up.
“They talked about the investigation Reeves is conducting.” Satisfied with the nonanswer, Leah continued. “Now, you answer my question. Why do you want to talk with Callen? What is he to you that it is so important you speak with him?”
The controlled expression returned to Kristin’s face. With a gentle push back from the table, she slumped in her seat. “It’s a private matter.”
Like Leah would let the woman get away with that. “Then why are you asking for my help?”
“I need to talk with Callen before I can say any more.”
Talk about being cryptic and unhelpful. “You could try calling him.”
“I’ve done all that. Even convinced Callen to meet me one time. Apparently I came on too strong, because he took off before I had finished a sentence.”
That sounded like the Callen Leah had come to know. But that went to the bull’s-eye of the real problem. She barely knew him. He didn’t seem like the type to have roomfuls of close friends, but she hadn’t breached his inner circle and wasn’t going to risk any future chance of that by exchanging gossip with a woman who wasn’t in a sharing mood.
“Honestly, Ms. Accord, the Hanover brothers have enough trouble without you adding more.”
Kristin fiddled with the silverware, moving everything around before putting it back in the same position on the placement. “This isn’t about causing trouble. It’s about the truth.”
Amazing how people said pretty things like that right before they caused a whole heap of trouble. “About what?’
Kristin shook her head before her chest rose on a deep breath. “There are things in Callen’s past he needs to know. Information I have.”
Leah couldn’t believe anyone had more information about the Hanovers than she did. “Your delivery is a little scary.”
“Let me just say this, it will hurt Callen more if the FBI gets to him before I do.”
The conversation had taken a sharp left turn into paranoia land. Time for Leah to jump off.
She put her purse on the table, hoping that signaled her readiness to leave. “I don’t know if I can do—”
Kristin reached across the table and grabbed Leah’s hand. “If you care about the Hanover brothers, you’ll help me.”
The unexpected touch made Leah take another look. Behind the oversized sweater and homemade scarf, a certain sadness lingered. Whatever Kristin had to say, it was serious. The intensity of her gaze and firm grip of her hand had Leah thinking it was also personal. Very personal.
It was possible Kristin could help. Leah doubted it, but she didn’t want to miscalculate and make things worse, not when she and Declan still hadn’t worked out the ramifications of the past, both the investigations and their intertwined family trees. “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I’m asking.” Kristin broke eye contact long enough to glance around the restaurant. “But do it fast.”
***
Declan dropped back on the stack of pillows piled at the head of Leah’s bed. With one arm wrapped around her bare shoulder, he stared at the ceiling and concentrated on slowing his breathing out of hospitalization range. This was the third night in her house and every time he entered her, she knocked him on his ass.
Now that he’d been with her and knew how her body responded under his hands, the second they were alone he wanted her clothes off and his mouth all over her. He’d licked and kissed every inch of her. In the bedroom, against the kitchen counter and one time right next to the front door when his control snapped after she mentioned those black panties again. Damn, that zipper thing was hotter than he imagined.
They’d christened every room of her house and he was calculating the best way to try her car. And the need didn’t run one way. Her passion in the bedroom mirrored the devotion she demonstrated in everything, and the energy that hummed through her when she was angry. She didn’t back down, didn’t play
coy. She wanted the pleasure and begged for it. From that sexy smile she’d worn an hour ago as she slowly slid over him and took a slow ride, he guessed she also loved torturing him by drawing out the fun until he broke down and took control.
A quick glance at the clock and he knew they needed to slow down and get some sleep. Since his muscles had turned to pudding and his brain cells misfired from exhaustion, he decided that was a good thing. A guy needed to refuel and rest every now and then.
He’d just closed his eyes when he heard her voice skate across the dark room.
“We have to talk about it eventually.”
He fought off the need to wince. Those had to be the most dreaded words in the male dictionary. Any conversation that started with a need to talk usually ended with a guy sleeping alone. Declan wasn’t about to let that happen.
“We’ve ignored it for four days.” He was more than happy to try for five . . . or fifty. “And those days have been so good.”
She sighed. “Trust me, I know. Why do you think I’ve concentrated on the sex and ignored the conversation?”
“I love when you talk like that.”
“I’m serious.”
“I’m not?”
She reached across him, her breasts brushing against his chest. The building need fizzled when she turned on the light and shot him her serious-woman look. “We’re not doing anything else—and I do mean anything—until we deal with this.”
Congratulations to her for finding a winning argument. The fact it was delivered while his hand played in her soft hair and his eyes traveled over her breasts, imagining what she would say if he leaned up and sucked on her nipple, probably played to her advantage.
“We’ve talked about my time in the Army, your job, friends and personal history stuff,” he pointed out.
It was all so normal. His previous relationships amounted to quick sexual drive-bys and a few times when the dating extended into measurements of months instead of hours, but nothing he’d call a real relationship. Nothing grown-up and healthy since he barely knew what that meant and didn’t witness it from his parents. With Leah the world shifted and those days that came before blurred into a waste of time.
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