Maybe she should come clean about everything to Reece. Except if Jason found out, she’d never escape him. The thought turned her stomach.
“Shelby, are you okay?”
She started and looked up into Libby Wilde’s concerned face. She’d been so busy wallowing, she hadn’t heard her approach. “Yeah. Sorry.” She swiped a hand under her nose and forced a smile. “Allergies.”
Libby glanced in the direction Jason had disappeared. Yeah, she didn’t buy that excuse for a moment.
Shelby kept the smile firmly in place and pulled open the store’s outer door. “So, dresses?” She walked straight toward the dress department, putting a bit too much bounce in her step. “You’re here to help me look like a passable Mrs. Reece Wilde, so work your magic.”
Libby followed, a frown drawing her perfectly sculpted brows together. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
Shelby gazed over the rack of clothes at the woman who was technically her sister-in-law. How strange to have another sister, even if only for a little while—well, she did have several other blood related sisters, but she didn’t know any of them except Eva. And this was different somehow. Libby couldn’t be more her opposite—a lawyer with a level head and calm disposition—and yet, in the short time they’d spent together, Shelby already felt a strong bond with her. “What do you mean?”
Libby chewed her muted pink lipstick off her lower lip as she browsed through the dresses, then shook her head. “It’s none of my business. Forget it.”
“No, tell me. I want to know.”
She said nothing for several seconds, obviously waging an internal debate. Then she stopped fiddling with the dresses and met Shelby’s gaze. “Changing who you are to please someone else never works. Just ask my husband. He’ll tell you. Jude did it for years, and he hurt us in the process. We missed out on eight years together because he wasn’t true to himself.”
“Really? Jude always seems so…comfortable with himself.”
“Well, he is now. But you have no idea how much misery we went through to get to that point.” Libby gave a little laugh and returned to browsing through the rack. “And the thing is, Reece is a great guy, but he has a tendency to steamroll over the people around him when they don’t conform to his standards and…I guess I’m saying I don’t want to see you lose yourself.”
Libby was worried about her? A sweet ache bloomed in her chest. So close on the heels of Jason’s surprise visit, the emotion nearly overwhelmed her. She found herself blinking back tears for the second time in less than ten minutes. It would be so easy to open her mouth and tell Libby everything, such a relief to have someone to confide in…
But, no, she couldn’t. Libby would feel obligated to tell her husband, and Jude would tell his brothers. Cam would tell Eva. Reece would find out…
And it’d all blow up in her face.
“I’m not changing for Reece.” She turned away from Libby’s searching gaze and picked up a black dress with long lace sleeves. “Will this one work?”
Libby regarded her with knowing eyes but, thank God, let the matter drop. She adjusted her stylish glasses on her nose, then turned her attention to the dress. “Modest, but with just the right amount of edge. It suits you. I approve. But what about this one?” She held up a long, sleek black number with a plunging V in the back held together by delicate chains. It was gorgeous, something Shelby would totally wear, but…
She winced. “It’ll take too much makeup to cover my tattoos.”
Libby frowned, obviously still not 100 percent on board with this whole ugly duckling transformation thing, and thrust the dress into her arms. “Well, try it on anyway. And the lace one, too.”
Shelby accepted the silky gown and grinned. Here Reece had wanted Libby to go shopping with her to help tone down her style, but Libby was doing just the opposite. The curvy blonde was no wilting flower, and Shelby decided in that moment she’d still count Libby as a sister even after she and Reece annulled their marriage.
She found the nearest fitting room and wiggled into the lace dress first. It fell to mid-thigh, and the sleeves were soft rather than itchy like she’d expected. There was a bit of sparkle in the lace, too, that caught and threw light in subtle ways when she moved. The dress fit like it was tailor-made for her, which was so hard to find straight off the rack since she was petite. She usually had to hem everything. “Oh, Libby. I think I’m in love.”
“Are you going to let me see it?”
She smiled at her reflection before unlocking the door and stepping out for Libby’s inspection. Having someone to shop with was fun, a nice change of pace from Eva, who would only set foot in a mall if she were forced at gunpoint.
Libby twirled a finger in the air, indicating Shelby should spin. She complied, and Libby clapped her hands, gave a little squee of excitement. “It’s perfect. I wish I could be there to see Reece’s reaction. He’s going to swallow his tongue. And probably want to peel you out of it first chance he gets.”
“You think?” Warmth gathered in her belly and spread downward as she studied her reflection again in the three-way mirror. She pictured his long, graceful fingers pulling down the side zipper, his lips tracing the line of flesh he uncovered. Oh, the man was a god with those lips but, despite last night, he was still too restrained. He was still holding back from that darkness she so desperately wanted to see him unleash.
She smoothed a hand down the front of the dress. Would this be the thing to finally snap his control?
Libby laughed. “You’re thinking dirty thoughts.”
“What?” Her cheeks were hot, and not from embarrassment. She fanned them, told herself to chill with the X-rated fantasies of Reece. “No. I’m not looking for a dress to impress him.”
“Oh, c’mon. Fess up. You so are.” A dreamy look crossed Libby’s pretty features. “And when your man sees you for the first time in a dress you picked out just for him…whew.”
“Now who’s thinking dirty thoughts?”
Libby shrugged, unapologetic. “You’ve seen my husband. The long hair, pretty blue eyes, roguish smile, and that body of his…mmm. How could I not have dirty thoughts?”
Shelby laughed and shook her head. “Reece is not my man.”
“Uh, you’re married to him. That pretty much means he’s yours and you’re his.”
“Yes, but it’s not the same. It’s not like you and Jude or Cam and Eva. It’s…complicated.” She turned back to the mirror and pouted. She really liked this dress. “I’m not going to get it.”
“No, no, no, no. I’m here as your personal style consultant and I’m telling you it’s perfect. You’re getting it. Now march your thin self back in there and try on the other one.”
An hour later, Shelby had the lace cocktail dress and the long black gown because, after trying it on, she hadn’t been able to pass that one up, either, although it needed hemming. She also had several pairs of slacks, a few modest pencil skirts, sweaters, and blouses. Except for the dresses, none of it was her style, but it fit the persona of the new Mrs. Wilde, wife of a successful businessman. And Libby did have good taste, so even if it wasn’t anything she’d normally wear, she wasn’t going to look matronly or frumpy.
She cringed when the cashier rattled off the total. Oh, that hurt, but she refused to take a cent from Reece and bypassed the card he gave her in favor of her own credit card. She gathered her bags and waited while Libby paid for the two dresses she’d found. Then, together, buzzing from the shopping high, they headed for the door.
“This was fun—” As Shelby turned to thank Libby for all of her help, she realized she’d lost her shopping companion somewhere between the register and door. She backtracked and found Libby standing in front of the infant section, staring longingly at a display of tiny shoes.
Shelby glanced from Libby’s face to the booties and back. That was the look of a woman with a secret. “Libby, are you…?”
She shook her head. “No,” she said, her voice crackin
g. “I thought I was for about a week, but no.”
“You want to be, don’t you?”
“So much.” She picked up one pair of booties and caressed them in the tender way only a woman desperately wanting a child could. “Jude and I both want a baby. We’ve been trying since our wedding night.”
“It’s only been a few months.”
Libby sighed. “I know. I just thought it’d happen right away.” She started to put the booties down, but Shelby stopped her.
“No. You’re going to buy them.”
Her eyes widened. “Why?”
“They’ll be your good luck charm for next month. Like a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you have the booties, you’ll have to have a baby to wear them.”
“You know what? You’re right.” Libby hugged the booties to her chest. “I’m buying them.”
Shelby waited with her while she bought the booties, then they walked out of the store together. Before they parted ways in the parking lot, Libby pulled her in for a quick hug. “Welcome to the family, Shelby.”
Chapter Thirteen
Reece was exhausted. He wanted to go home after leaving DMW for the day, but he’d promised Vaughn he’d look into Lark Warren’s financials, and he had several hours before the dinner party tonight. Might as well spend them helping his brother.
And, he decided as he drove by the burned-out husk of The Bean Gallery, he wanted his brothers investigating the arson. Something about it sat like coal in his gut. It didn’t add up and, as a numbers guy, he hated when things didn’t add up.
He pulled the Escalade into his usual spot in front of the Wilde Security building and took a moment to stroll over to the opposite end of the empty strip mall, where their office used to be before the bomb that nearly killed Vaughn had damaged it. He owned the whole building and had dreamed of fixing up the other empty stores to rent out.
Maybe it was time. It’d generate some income that would take the pressure off him until Wilde Security started operating in the black.
Problem was, he didn’t know what he wanted to do with the building. They’d moved the Wilde Security office and he liked the new spot better, but these other empty stores? Did he want to rent them out as stores again or offices?
Hands stuffed in the pockets of his wool coat, Reece studied the blackened facade of the building. It was still structurally sound according to the contractors he’d hired shortly after the blast, but it needed some work inside, and the front was a total loss. The rest of the old mall had been tagged with graffiti back when this had been a bad part of the city, and the paint was chipping off the concrete block walls. The whole thing needed a facelift before he could think about renting to anyone. But he’d only be able to afford the work needed if he could secure this deal with Irving James.
Damn.
Always came back to that.
As he strode back toward the office, wind whipped up a small dervish of snow near his feet, reminding him he needed to call the snow removal people to plow the lot before they got the forecasted four more inches tomorrow. Great. More money flying out the window. Maybe he should see about taking on a home security job soon. They were usually out-of-town gigs, and leaving right now would be a headache, but the paycheck would be a godsend for Wilde Security, and it’d take some of the strain off DMW Systems, which would make Dylan happy. He’d follow up with some of the people who had shown an interest in his home security system in the past. Maybe one of them would bite.
In the office, he found Cam talking to a dark-haired man. A potential client? One could only hope. Both Vaughn and Jude were absorbed with whatever they were doing on their computers, so Reece didn’t bother any of them and continued to his small office. He peeked into Greer’s office next door to his, but the desk sat empty and looked untouched from the last time he was here before the Vegas trip.
Jesus. Where was Greer now? This vanishing act of his was getting fucking old. Starting Wilde Security had been his idea in the first place and now, out of all of them, he spent the least amount of time here.
They were going to have a heart-to-heart about that. Soon.
Reece sat down at his desk and before the computer even booted up, Vaughn darkened his doorway. He didn’t knock, but closed the door behind him and strode forward with a handful of printouts. “I found something.”
“About…?”
“Lark.”
Reece resisted the urge to sigh. Barely. He accepted the papers, still warm from the printer, but didn’t look at them. “Vaughn. Man, you can’t be doing this on company time.”
Vaughn crossed his massive arms over his chest. “What else am I supposed to be doing? That guy out there with Cam is the first client we’ve had in days.”
True. This time, he did sigh. “Have you seen Greer?”
“Nope. Not since we left Vegas.”
“Figures.”
“He’s up to something.”
“You think?” Reece snapped, but then took a breath. Told himself to rein in his frustration. “All right. I was just about to snoop into Lark’s financials anyway, so you might as well tell me what you’ve found.”
Vaughn grabbed a folding chair from against the wall and dragged it over. He was still in a walking cast and, although he didn’t say it, his leg had to be hurting him. “First thing, I talked to Libby. Lark was her bridesmaid, so I figured Libs had to know something about her. She said Lark started working at the district attorney’s office as a secretary two years ago and, although they were good friends at work, Libby didn’t know anything about her personal life. She played her cards close and put on this dumb bimbo act, but Libby saw through it. I saw through it at Libby and Jude’s wedding. Lark’s smarter than she pretended to be.”
“Okay,” Reece said and made a get-on-with-it rolling motion with his hand.
“So, knowing that about her, and knowing she must have passed a background check to work at the D.A.’s office, I started digging. She took the real Lark Warren—the sixty-some-year-old dead woman—and stole her entire life. To do that and pass an extensive background check tells me she’s done it before. And she has.” He took the papers back and spread them out on the desk. “Before she was Lark Warren, she was a maid named Robin Jones in Baltimore for just over a year. And before that, Autumn Clark, a waitress in Richmond, Virginia for a year. I’m thinking there are even more names I haven’t found yet.”
Intrigued, Reece picked up the paper nearest him that showed a driver’s license photo for Autumn Clark. It was definitely the woman they had known as Lark Warren, but with a shorter haircut. “She’s running.”
Vaughn straightened. “What makes you say that? She’s a thief. She’s stealing people’s lives.”
“Dead people.”
“Still, she’s hopping around the east coast committing acts of fraud, and we’re the only ones who know about it as far as I can tell. She needs to be caught.”
Yeah, if that wasn’t hurt pride talking, Reece would eat his tie. Vaughn could try to make it into a quest for justice, but it was a case of plain old bruised ego. Vaughn was the runner in all of his past relationships, and it was eating him up that for once, the woman had not only run from him, but all-out disappeared.
Reece rubbed his chin and then at the knots in the back of his neck. Vaughn wasn’t going to let this drop, especially now that he felt justified in his pursuit, but someone had to rein him in before he went into self-destruct mode.
And Reece knew just how to do it.
“All right.” He sat up straight again and met Vaughn’s gaze. “Here’s the thing. I need you working a case that’s not this.”
“Reece—”
“No. Listen. I need you to look into the arson at The Bean Gallery. I’m fairly certain someone was trying to kill Shelby that night, and I want to know who. You look into that for me, and I’ll dig up what I can on Lark’s previous identities for you. Deal?”
Vaughn’s jaw slid to one side as he thought it through. Finally, he gave a shor
t nod. “Okay. But only because I like Shelby and the thought of someone trying to hurt her pisses me off.”
“You and me both, bro,” Reece muttered as Vaughn stalked out. “You and me both.”
Something was different.
Reece paused just inside his front door and scanned the apartment’s open layout. Something was…off, but damn if he could put his finger on what it was. He walked in slowly, his senses humming. After the whipped cream fight last night, he wouldn’t be surprised if Shelby launched some kind of sneak attack with silly string or some shit, but she wasn’t in the living room or kitchen.
He made it halfway across the living room before he spotted the two colorful pillows now decorating his sofa. He picked one up. It looked like it had been sewn together using multiple strips of leftover fabric, a clash of colors and patterns. He frowned over at the other one. It was shaped like a sugar skull.
What the…?
“Shelby!”
No answer, but he heard the first strings of music coming from her bedroom and scooped up both pillows before following the sound.
“Shelby?” He tried knocking on her door, but got no response. The music—Jesus, it was reggae—wasn’t overly loud, but unless he pounded on the door, she wasn’t going to hear him. He sucked in a fortifying breath, because who the hell knew what he’d find on the other side, and tried the knob.
Shelby was standing barefoot on a mat, her back to him, one knee bent, the other straight, and her arms out at her sides. Warrior II pose. She was doing yoga.
Okay, that was not what he expected.
Somehow, every time he thought he had her figured out, she managed to throw a curve ball at him. It was thrilling—kind of like a puzzle that changed the moment he had it put together. She was thrilling and until he saw her standing there, deep in her own thoughts, he hadn’t realized how much he’d been itching all day to get home and see her again.
Wilde at Heart Page 10