by Vivian Arend
Tripp laughed, and her face heated as she stepped to Jonah’s side and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for the use of the spare bed.”
“No problem. Bonus? I got to have all the covers for most of the night.” He winked, then pushed her toward her seat. “Tonight I get to warm you up, right? Or you know, you could crawl in between us.”
“Stop flirting and finish eating,” Tripp warned as he lowered a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. He tapped his wrist and stared meaningfully at Jonah. “You’re going to be late.”
Jonah glanced at his watch before jerking upright. “Shit, you’re right.”
He took a final sip of coffee before abandoning his cup on the table and rushing from the room.
Alisha smiled and drank deeply. The sleep had been welcome and needed, but now caffeine was as necessary as breathing. She looked up to find Tripp staring at her. “What?”
“I want you to tell me what happened.” Tripp held up a hand. “Once Jonah’s gone, though. Otherwise he’ll get distracted, and we’ll never get him out of here on time.”
“Let me get breakfast, then I’ll explain.”
Tripp settled into silence. Alisha filled a bowl with cereal and fruit, relaxing as much as possible to plan what she should share.
Jonah flew into the room, darting over to kiss Alisha before stopping beside Tripp’s chair. “Have fun tying things up today. I’ll bring supper home with me.” He turned briefly to Alisha. “Enough for three, so if you need to come back, you do it, understand?”
“Thanks, Jonah. You’re the best.”
He blinked happily, then kissed Tripp quickly and raced away. “I’m late.”
Tripp grinned after him, with a goofy expression that made Alisha laugh. He pulled his attention back and shrugged. “What can I say, the guy’s got a heart of gold.”
“He’s sweet,” Alisha agreed. “Sorry for taking you from your bed last night. Twice.”
Tripp leaned in, all amusement gone. “So spill. What happened to send you running for shelter? Not that I mind—get that straight right off the bat. I’m glad you asked for help.”
“And I appreciate that I could turn to you more than you know. I had an unexpected intruder in my apartment. Someone I don’t like much, but that part’s not important.” She shook her head. “I wasn’t going to take a chance on him breaking in twice in a row.”
“That would be a shocker.” Tripp stared. “It was after one o’clock when you caught him. You out with the girls for the night?”
She slowed. “No. I was over at Devon’s until then.”
Tripp grinned again. “I knew it. About time you two faced the facts. Only—” Confusion crossed his face. “Why didn’t you call him for help?”
That was a loaded question. Fortunately there was a logical possibility. “Coming here meant there were two guys at my beck and call if I needed you. Sounded like a smarter move to me. Plus you had the garage to hide my car in.”
Tripp wasn’t smiling anymore. “Sounds as if this guy really scared you.”
“Would you want to discover someone in your bedroom who wasn’t invited?” she demanded. “Yes, it was scary, but get real. It could have happened to anyone.”
“Don’t snap at me. I’m just giving you a heads-up. I bet Devon will be pissed you didn’t call him. Not if you two have been fooling around. He’ll feel as if you don’t trust him to protect you.”
“You’re such a girl at times,” she complained. “Going on and on about the feeling shit.”
That made his smile return like she’d hoped. “You calling me a pussy?”
“Always.” She rose to her feet and came around the table to hug him. “But I’m glad you’re you. I’ll deal with Devon.”
Tripp nodded. “You plan on staying here tonight? You’re more than welcome if you need it, you know you are.”
She helped clear the table. “I’ll be fine. And I will talk to Devon, if that makes you happier.”
Tripp shrugged. “Not me who’s going to be unhappy in the first place.” His eyes lit up. “Damn, when did you two hook up? I wonder if I have time to call Xavier and double my money. I think you might have won me a tidy sum.”
Oh God. “Tell me you guys didn’t start a betting pool.”
He tossed her a wink as he headed down the hallway. “Hey, Marcus even got in on this one, only he figured you two would cave sometime in the first year.”
Idiots. She loved the lot of them.
She followed Tripp to the Lifeline building, working up the strength to face the team for the first time while the news broke. Maybe they could keep her and Devon’s relationship, or whatever they were calling it, under the table for a little longer. That would work.
Alisha slipped in the door ahead of Tripp and headed to the lockers to grab a climbing belt. She jerked to a stop as she rounded the corner, Devon far too large and in charge as he buckled up his belt. He smiled, the cocky expression melting to concern as he paced forward and tilted her chin upward. “What happened? Did you sleep okay?”
“There were complications.” She made to step away but he didn’t release her, instead leaning closer to brush his lips past her cheek. Light. Friendly.
Not possessive or very loverlike at all, but a world removed from how they usually acted around each other.
And suddenly, she didn’t give a damn about hiding from anyone. Tripp was right; she should have called Devon last night. Should have let him know right away she was frightened. She slipped her arms around his neck and gave him a real kiss. Bold as brass. A claiming and an apology all wrapped up in one.
He swept her into his arms in a flash, bodies pressed tight. Lips crushed together, brief, yet intense. Then he let her go and carefully placed her feet on the ground.
Alisha smiled at him. “Good morning to you, too.”
Devon nodded. “You’ll tell me what’s going on later, right?”
“You can tell me what’s going on now,” Erin interrupted from behind him. “Because I don’t think I’m seeing straight.”
The pilot dodged around Devon to stand in front of Alisha, disgust on her face.
“I’m sorry if you find kissing disturbing,” Alisha apologized.
“Girl, it’s not that.” Erin stomped to her locker and grabbed a pair of gloves. “You’ve got some shitty timing, you two. It’s only one week to Thanksgiving. You couldn’t have waited until after?”
Oh hell. Alisha snickered as Devon rolled his eyes.
“You lost the bet, did you?” Alisha asked.
“Over one hundred bucks I’ve put into that pool by now.” Erin leaned in closer. “You’re not just jerking us around, are you? Like you’ve actually done it?”
Devon laughed out loud this time and gently pushed Erin past him. “Shut up, Erin. Our fucking is none of your business.”
The pilot blew a raspberry and left the room. Devon turned to Alisha and tucked her against his body, stroking her cheek. “Well, there’s the first reaction from the crazies. Ready to face the day?”
“Tripp already knows, so he shouldn’t be too bad.”
“Great. Define ‘not too bad’?”
Alisha smiled and bit the bullet. “Hey, can you come home with me after training today? I need to talk to you. Need to ask a favour.” She might as well dive in full force and see what kind of situation she had. Because Tripp was right in another way. If she hadn’t ended up in Devon’s bed this past week? She would have called him first.
Through all the teasing and fighting of the past years, he was the one she normally would have turned to, and he deserved to know she trusted him that much.
“Where the hell are you guys?” Marcus pounded on the table in the staff room. “I hauled ass to get back here for this, and I haven’t even been home yet. Let’s roll, people.”
Devon kissed her quickly, then set her free, and they both grabbed what they needed for the upcoming session.
Lana slipped out of the way as they joined the group in the staf
f area. Alisha wasn’t sure why the woman tossed her such a concentrated glance, but that wasn’t important now. Now was the time to wait with her teammates and pay close attention as Marcus explained the activities for the day. Devon stood at her side, but she pushed that away to focus her attention on the here and now.
They had skills to sharpen so they could save lives, and no matter what challenges she was facing in her own life at the moment, that was the more important goal—to stay strong. To be there for others.
And as she glanced around the room at Tripp, at Erin, she noted that maybe she needed to spend more time appreciating the good people she had in her life. Acknowledge that they were there for her, and she didn’t have to do it alone.
CHAPTER 16
Devon had the locks out of the door before she’d finished telling him about discovering Vincent in her bedroom. “We’ll get these rekeyed today. Do you want me to stay here with you, or do you want to spend the night at my house?”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your life, Devon.”
He fought to keep his frustration from showing because she didn’t need more to deal with at the moment. Still, his sense of worth had gotten a major bucketload of crap dumped on it after hearing she’d gone from his bed, to being frightened, to asking Tripp for help. “Oh, it might sound as if you get to decide which, but those are your two options. I won’t accept anything else.”
He turned in time to catch her rubbing her brow. She met his gaze, more than a little guilt in her expression. “I didn’t leave you out on purpose. I was frustrated and scared and just reacted.”
“I get it. But now you’ve got time to think, and you can make a choice. Which do you prefer? If you want to stay here, good, but I need to know so I can pack a few things.”
She shook her head. “There’s no room here us both. I’d be grateful to bunk with you for a while. I don’t understand what’s come over Vincent. I mean, he’s always been intense, but he’s never been difficult like this before.”
She collapsed onto the couch, worn and frustrated as she gazed out the window.
Devon gave himself a mental slap. She hadn’t done anything to deserve this, either. “Pack. We’ll talk about Vincent and his being difficult once we get to my house. We’re still changing the locks, even if there’s less than a month left on your lease. That’s crazy, by the way. I thought you had an ongoing contract?”
Alisha rose and headed to her bedroom, pausing to drag a suitcase from the hall closet. “I did, only it’s a yearlong one and it was up soon. They’d told me verbally it would be renewed, but we hadn’t signed anything. They’re not doing anything illegal.”
“Just nasty.”
“Yeah.”
She vanished from sight. He popped the lock into his pocket and grabbed a box to load fridge supplies into. He was determined she’d stay with him until Vincent left town—there was no need for her to be afraid, or have to scoop science experiments from the fridge in a few days’ time.
Once he got over his initial mad, he had to look on the brighter side. Having her in his house wasn’t a hardship at all. It was a small place, but big enough that they had room to get away from each other if needed. And they didn’t even have to share a bed, although he hoped that option fell by the wayside damn fast.
The reasons to have her join him sucked, but having an excuse for her to stay?
He ignored the pleasure that brought him as best he could, but the voices calling him a hypocrite were damn loud. He didn’t let women stay the night. He didn’t want to get attached.
He was screwed, because he was attached, and that was the plain and simple truth.
Settling in took far less time than he’d expected. He cleaned out a drawer in the bathroom, showed her where the extra towels were. They got a load of laundry going from the morning’s training.
When he went to rearrange the tiny room that held the Murphy wall bed, Alisha caught his arm. “I could sleep on the couch.”
“I want you in my bed,” he admitted, pulling the mattress to horizontal. “But I want you to have your own space if you need it.”
She nodded, snatching up the blankets he’d put to the side and helping him make the bed. “I can use it to lay out my gear, then.”
Her wink wasn’t enough to distract him from the conversation they needed to finish. “You can’t make me forget I’m grilling you for details.”
Her sparkle vanished. “Meanie.”
“Detail-loving meanie.” He straightened the pillow, then held out his hand. “Come on.”
She followed him, dragging her feet as he took her to the living room and clicked the gas fireplace on. “There’s not much to tell. Vincent is being . . . demanding. He wants me to marry him.”
Words froze on his tongue. His face must have been a sight to see because she burst out laughing. Which was enough to snap him out of shock. “Shit, what kind of insanity is that? I mean, not that wanting to marry you would be a fate worse than death, but it sounds as if he’s a touch demented.”
Alisha wrapped her arms around her legs as she curled up in front of the fireplace. “He’s always been like that. Talked about what he wanted, and boom, it happened. Usually it didn’t matter much to me because he was this older person who hung out with my parents. I had to say hello and good-bye, and do all the polite society things . . .”
She raised her eyes to his as she trickled to a stop.
He nodded. “I figured out who you are, if that’s your hang-up. I spotted the high-society roll call with your name, and the shining tiara hovering over your head.”
“I’m Alisha Bailey, member of Lifeline and a top-ranked SAR member. That’s who I’m proud of, and that’s who I want to be.” The words came out firm and strong.
He clapped, and the tension on her face lightened. “Good for you. And you’re right. If you don’t want to do the family thing, then you shouldn’t feel obligated. Especially if they’re not firing on all pistons.”
She nodded slowly. “I feel bad about my mom at times, because I think if it were up to her, she’d give me more leeway.”
“Dad’s in charge, is he?” Devon knew the answer before he saw her nod. “Figured.”
“And Vincent is worse than my father, if you can believe that. He’s definitely not going for Mr. Congeniality.”
Devon picked up her foot and lowered it into his lap, rubbing his thumbs along her insole as he pondered. “If he goes home and leaves you alone, that would solve all your problems. You hoping that’s what will happen?”
“Not much else I can do. He hasn’t directly threatened me, and . . .” Alisha hesitated. “Okay, the reality is right now if I go to the RCMP, I’m not sure what good it would do. The ways he could use the media to twist things in his favour are scary to think about. Police reports notwithstanding, it’s my word against his, and I’m a lot lower on the political totem pole. The people who would use a police report against him aren’t necessarily my friends, either.”
“So you’re trapped into not going to the media because you’d lose.” He shook his head. “You live in a damn weird world.”
“Lived,” she snapped. “Which is why I wanted out so bad. That, and because I really do love what we do.” She groaned happily, wiggling down farther. “I’m going to melt into the floor if you keep rubbing my feet. Can we not talk about Vincent anymore?”
“Last question. Would calling your father and letting him know any of this help?”
She considered for a moment, but the misery on her face only grew stronger. “If I mention anything about Vincent wanting my shares that’s going to open up the whole marriage issue. My dad would more likely ignore the suggestion it’s about taking control, and insist Vincent’s goal is to make a strong, political marriage—like the family suggested years ago. He’d join in to convince me Vincent was the catch of the century. He might even start his own media blitz to push us together. Those are the positive possibilities.”
“Shit. Worst case?”
/>
“Worst case, he figures out some way to make you look bad—as if you’re the one who came between true love and financial happiness.”
“Hmm.” He exchanged her right foot for her left. “I’d be the other man, would I?”
“It’s not as fun as it sounds. You don’t need to be shredded in the media for something you didn’t do. I doubt Marcus and Lifeline would appreciate it, either.” She leaned back, glassy-eyed as she watched him strip off her second sock and start all over again. “I want Vincent gone, and I want to go on with my life. Poor, but contented.”
She sighed unhappily, then pulled out her cell phone. She stared at it as if it were a snake.
“You calling your father?”
“I . . . should. You’re right. He deserves a warning, and if he can help get Vincent back to Toronto, that would make me blissfully happy.”
She sounded so miserable his heart ached. “You don’t have to, but maybe your father will surprise you and pick door number three this time.”
Devon waited as she put through the call, concentrating on massaging her feet and distracting her from the wait as it took forever for her father to come on the line.
Alisha got straight to the point. “Vincent Monreal is in Banff, and acting very strange. I wondered if you knew anything—Well, of course, I’m certain. I saw him myself.”
She rolled her eyes as she listened to his response, frustration clearly rising. Obviously door number three didn’t involve her father accepting information with open arms.
“I don’t care if he’s supposed to be in Vancouver attending a symposium. He was in my apartment uninvited last night and . . .” She broke off, and glared at the wall. “Dad. Stop interrupting. I called because I’m concerned about Vincent, who is still here in Banff whether you believe it or not, but I’m also worried about you. Is everything okay with Bailey Enterprises?”
Her father answered.
Alisha’s forehead creased. “No, I’m not trying to be insulting. I heard . . . a rumour there might be some—”
She was cut off and remained silent for another thirty seconds. By the time she’d hung up Alisha was swearing lightly.