“Everything happened just exactly like I told you. This was in no way domestic, nor was there any dispute. As to the condom,” she swallowed hard in order to fight off her embarrassment, “I opened it last night after I found them. Curiosity.” She shrugged, and figured that was enough said.
“Okay.” Miller sounded skeptical, but he appeared willing to leave it at that. “So the box of men’s clothes we found – that belongs to your renter also?”
“Yes.” Sadie let out a breath, glad the condom issue was behind them. “I’m not sure what his story was, but he left some things behind, and I placed them all in the box. I was planning to leave it with the property management company.”
“You got a name on him? A forwarding address?”
Sadie shook her head in apology. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know anything about him. I can give you the name of the rental agent over at Coastal Property Management. She must have some information on file.”
“Okay.” He snatched the plastic bags back, slowly stuffed them in his pocket. “We’ll see if we can track him down.”
“You think he had something to do with it?” Sadie asked as she relayed the agent’s name and number.
Miller shrugged his beefy shoulders, tucking the notebook back in his coat. “Can’t say. But it’s an avenue we’ll be looking into. Thanks for the coffee, Detective.” He nodded his head toward Kathleen. “Mr. Murphy,” he sort of grimaced in Declan’s direction. “I’ll show myself out.”
The sound of the front door closing broke the uncomfortable silence which had settled.
“So,” Kathleen finally said, biting her lips in evident hilarity. “Curious about the condoms, eh? What, you and Rick didn’t practice safe sex?”
From behind her, Declan grunted irritably, pushing himself away from Sadie’s chair before she could answer. “I’m taking a shower.” He stomped out of the room without further ado.
Sadie glared daggers at her friend. “Thanks for that.”
Kathleen grinned, and Sadie shook her head. Why she’d been so eager to get back home, she was no longer quite certain. “Now if we’re all through with the Embarrass Sadie Variety Hour, I believe I’ll get my stuff together. I can make my own toast at home.”
“DON’T make me repeat myself, Sadie Rose. You are not staying over there alone.” Declan grabbed the shirt she’d just stuffed into her suitcase, tossing it back into the closet.
“Look, Declan.” She retrieved the shirt, and stood quivering in indignation. “I appreciate all the help last night and your… interesting brand of hospitality, but the fact is I have to live in that house and it’s just ridiculous to be afraid of it. I just called a locksmith to come add deadbolts to the doors and, per Kathleen’s suggestion, a security company to see about an alarm. And aside from that, how stupid would those burglars have to be to try a repeat of last night? There are far more juicy plums to be picking, which they surely have figured out.” She marched past him toward her suitcase.
Damn the stubborn woman and damn Kathleen for dumping her on him. Had to get back to work, eh? And what about his job – that was chopped liver? He could just take off and play nursemaid for several days? Not to mention the fact that he did not want Sadie under his roof, for a multitude of obvious reasons. Hell, he’d almost molested her just last night. When she’d been injured and terrified and essentially incapacitated, no less. Clearly he couldn’t be trusted.
But even less did he want some asshole messing with her or bringing her to any more harm.
“Let’s just say you cool your jets here for a couple more days until the security people get done installing your alarm. And it will give the police a chance to make sure your friggin’ ex-fiancé doesn’t need to be killed.”
Well. That certainly got her attention. “I see you’ve been talking to Kathleen.” She gave a little laugh, but she wasn’t amused. “What is it with you people? Have you all gone slowly insane?” She went back toward the closet, but he blocked her, causing her to hop about like an angry hornet. “Rick did not hire thugs to scare me, and I am not staying here with you!”
“What are you going to do over there, Sadie? You can’t clean, you can’t paint, you can’t do much of anything with those hands.” He stabbed his own hand through his shower-damp hair over the reminder of what she’d been through. No way was he letting her wander around unattended until they knew just what the hell was going on. “Just chill out and approach this like a reasonable human being and you’ll see that you’re being stubborn. Probably to punish me because I got you all hot. Or to punish yourself because you liked it.”
And the elephant came out of the closet.
Sadie brought out the big guns, and took the thing on. “You actually think that my unwillingness to stay here with you has anything to do with that… that pathetic kiss?”
Pathetic, was it? Declan was tempted to jog her memory a little simply to prove that she lied like a rug. They’d both liked it, too damn much, but there were larger issues here that needed to be dealt with. So, recognizing a bluff when he saw one, he tossed another chip onto the table.
“Yep. I think that sums it up. You want me, and you’re worried about your self-control if you stay here.” Talk about projecting, but this was his hand and he was going to play it.
Sadie’s laugh was just a tinge too hearty. “You know what, Declan? You are out of your tiny little mind. I would have absolutely no problem keeping my hands off you, even if they weren’t encased in gauze.”
“Fine,” he said easily. “Then you’ll stay here.” He made a move and confiscated the suitcase, stuffing it back in the closet. Behind him he could practically hear the wheels turning in Sadie’s head as she realized all her chips were gone.
“Why did you chop down your privacy fence?”
Maybe not all of her chips. She’d snuck an ace out of her sleeve and knew just how to use it against him.
“Firewood,” he said without turning.
Her indelicate snort conveyed disbelief.
But then, to his surprise, he felt a gauzy hand tentatively stroke his back and he figured it was game over. Even through the layers of bandages, her touch was an erotic brand. She drew a breath, gave a whispery little sigh that flowed into his veins like wine. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I should be saying thank you. For everything. Honestly, Declan, I don’t know what I would have done last night without you. You’ve been… a real friend.”
Just take him out and shoot him now. “You’re welcome, Sadie Rose.” He straightened and turned from the closet. But he kept his gaze over her head because if he looked at those big baby-doll eyes every chip he’d earned was going to tumble right out of his pocket. “I’m going out to clean up the wood from the fence, so just call me if there’s anything you need.”
SHE needed him.
Sadie stared in frustration at the shampoo bottle on the counter. Despite Kathleen’s ministrations with the brush, her hair was an itchy, gritty, dirty mess after cleaning all day and then basically crawling around in pine straw and mud in the middle of a raging thunderstorm. Plus, she’d slept on it again, having been knocked flat by the pain pills and the full breakfast Declan had made her.
Groggy and a little disoriented, she’d stumbled to the bathtub, where she’d managed to clean herself, sort of. However, without the use of her hands, washing her own hair was out of the question.
She could wait for Kathleen. She’d be off work later this evening. Sadie lifted her bandaged hand to wipe away a circle of condensation from the bathroom window, and judged by the slant of the sun angling through the trees that it was sometime around noon. Which meant she’d only have to endure her gritty, dirty, itchy hair for about another… eight or nine hours.
Sadie sighed, and faced facts.
She’d have to ask Declan to help her.
Steeling herself, she hanged the towel wrapped around her on the hook on the bathroom door, slipping back into the dress Kathleen had picked out earlier. She didn’t bo
ther with a bra because the clasp was beyond her ability to manipulate at the moment, and the fabric of the dress was heavy enough that it shouldn’t be that noticeable.
God knew she didn’t want to give Declan the wrong idea.
Grabbing the shampoo bottle in a two-handed grip to keep it from slipping, Sadie strode to the bedroom door. It stood ajar, so she simply slid her foot into the crack and eased it open with her hip.
In the hallway, all was quiet. She walked to the top of the stairs, listening for the sound of the television or some other noise indicating where the house’s other occupant might be. Only the quiet hum of normal household electrical noises greeted her, and Sadie wondered if Declan had gone back outside to finish his demolition of the fence.
Only one way to find out.
She moved through the empty downstairs rooms, winding her way back toward the kitchen. From the bay window, she’d have an unobstructed view of the side yard.
But it wasn’t by the remains of the fence that she spotted him. Instead, he was in his mother’s rose garden. The bushes were mostly dormant, and Declan wielded a pair of pruning shears, trimming them back, pulling off yellowed leaves. One of the bushes was apparently really industrious, because it still sported a few scraggly blooms. Declan moved toward it with his shears, but instead of cutting the stem, he gently cupped the flower in his hand and leaned toward it, inhaling.
“Ouch,” Sadie said when the bottle of shampoo slipped from her hands, landing on her toe. She didn’t think she’d exclaimed that loudly, but Declan’s head whipped around. He obviously saw her standing at the window, because his eyes narrowed.
Sadie waved. She figured it was the least awkward thing to do under the circumstances.
Then she bent over, trying to wrangle the suddenly uncooperative shampoo bottle back into her grip, almost landing on her butt when the back door slammed open.
He stood there for a moment, watching her, saying nothing, and when Sadie finally looked up he arched a brow.
“Need some help?”
Butterflies danced in her stomach, at odds with the familiar irritation she felt at his dry tone.
“Gee, how could you tell?”
Nudging her aside, Declan stooped over and snagged the bottle effortlessly in one gloved hand, which, a couple of days ago, wouldn’t have incited any envy in her at all.
He stared at the label on the bottle.
“You bleach your hair?”
“No, I highlight my hair. Color-treating does not mean bleaching.” She started to snatch the shampoo back from him, but realized that was defeating her purpose. Evidently Declan had cottoned onto her purpose too, because he looked at her bandaged hands and frowned.
“You want me to help you wash your hair?”
Given the way he was staring at her, you’d think she was asking him to donate a kidney.
“Just… never mind,” Sadie said. Maybe she could put some baggies over her hands or something. But when she went to grab the bottle, he held it out of her reach.
“Go over to the sink.”
“No, really, that’s –”
“Will you just stop arguing for once?”
Stemming her natural inclination to do exactly that, Sadie walked over to the sink. Declan disappeared into the spacious laundry room that was off of the kitchen, and when he returned, he was sans gloves but had procured a fluffy white towel.
“Do you need a step stool?” he asked as he stopped in front of her.
“I’m not that short.”
He snorted to indicate his opinion of that, and then turned on the water. After running his hand under the stream to test the temperature, he curtly instructed her to lean over.
Sadie did, half expecting it to be either icy cold or scalding hot, but the water which streamed down her scalp was the perfect temperature – just a degree or two above lukewarm. She closed her eyes, marveling at how good it felt. It was like she hadn’t been able to fully let go of the trauma from last night while the dirt incurred during her struggle still clung to her body.
Her shoulders sagged with relief.
“Close your eyes.”
“They’re closed.” The water shut off, and Sadie heard the sound of the bottle cap being flicked open, and that squeaky, gassy sound it always seemed to make when you squeezed some shampoo into your palm.
The smell – a subtle lavender scent – drifted out, relaxing her even further.
And then Declan’s hands were in her hair, his long, strong fingers massaging her scalp, taking pleasure to new levels. She felt boneless and yet so alive with sensation that she groaned before she even realized what she was doing.
The fingers stilled. “Am I hurting you?”
Was he kidding? If anything, he was making her feel just a little too good.
Sadie shook her head, almost purring when his fingers shifted in her hair, and then realized that probably wasn’t the best way to communicate at the moment.
“No.” God, no.
He started scrubbing again, and though Sadie was almost certainly going to be mortified over the fact that she’d basically turned to butter, right now she couldn’t seem to care. The feel of his hands, the mingled scent of good clean soap and the slightly musky smell of a man. The warmth of his body close behind her. It was… okay, it was relaxing, sure, but Sadie would be lying if she didn’t admit that it was also incredibly erotic.
Either those drugs were still wreaking havoc with her common sense, or she was legitimately hot for Declan.
“Lean back over,” he said, his tone gruff, and it sent a shiver of delight down to her toes. He rinsed away the shampoo, his fingers gently separating the locks of her hair, stroking over her neck. And when he stilled, his breath coming a little heavier than before, Sadie realized she wasn’t the only one affected.
“I, uh, think that’s good,” she finally said, because she was afraid she was on the verge of doing something stupid.
“Right,” Declan said, shutting off the water, and then draping the towel over her shoulders.
Sadie closed her eyes, feeling a little dizzy.
Then she stood back up, pulling herself together. But when she turned to tell Declan thank you, he’d already left the room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SADIE was almost unbearably relieved when the security contractors showed up, giving her the excuse she needed to get out of Declan’s house. Not that he hadn’t been perfectly hospitable over the last couple of days, but being cooped up with him was becoming exhausting.
Because much to her chagrin and Declan’s apparent disgust, their sexual tension was so thick that you could spread it on toast.
What the hell was wrong with her?
Sadie wondered if it was a rebound thing – Declan was about as far from Rick as you could get – or possibly a weird offshoot of Stockholm syndrome, with her attributing heroic traits to her pseudo captor. Except that Dec actually had been sort of heroic, whipping out that pistol to fend off the bad guys and carting her around. And he’d been… hell she couldn’t believe she was saying this, but he’d been unfailingly considerate of her since then.
Who would have guessed he had it in him? She theorized that perhaps her brush with danger had brought out some latent white knight-type tendencies, stirring his Y chromosomes into a territorial, protect-and-defend sort of frenzy, the natural outcome of that being the release of the testosterone which drives men to mate.
Either that or he was just horny. Who knew what made him tick?
So it was with gratitude that she greeted the two men who showed up at her grandmother’s front door.
Until she got a look at their feet. The sight of their work boots shot a thrill of pure terror through her veins.
“You okay?” the man who’d introduced himself as Doug asked.
“What? Oh, fine.” She shook her head at her own ridiculousness. “Come in, won’t you please?” She stepped aside, gestured them in, where they followed along after carefully wiping their heels on t
he doormat.
The chatty one noticed her bandages. “Looks like you had some kind of accident,” he reckoned, while his partner began shooting assessing glances around the interior.
“Some kind,” she agreed, meeting his sympathetic dark eyes with a half-smile. “I experienced a home invasion a few nights ago.”
“No kidding?”
“Afraid not.”
“They catch the guy?” Doug asked.
“Guys, plural. And not yet.” She hoped the sick gurgle in her stomach wasn’t audible. “Which is one of the reasons I contacted you.”
“Smart move.” He nodded, his easy smile disarming, and Sadie relaxed a little more. “Why don’t we get started?”
Sadie walked them around the first floor, where the window and door sensors would be installed, Doug making notations on a clipboard as they talked. But he whistled when his partner opened up the electrical box in the closet under the stairs.
He scratched behind his ear. “When was the last time you had your wiring checked?”
Sadie honestly had no idea. “I take it it’s out of date?”
“Well, what you have here is called knob and tube wiring, which is pretty common in houses built around the turn of the last century. Now, this is okay so long as the covering on the wire remains intact and the insulation hasn’t been damaged. A house like this, with all these big trees around, unless you’ve been real careful about pest control, there’s a good chance you’ve had a number of visits from mice or maybe even raccoons, being as you’re so close to the marsh. Rodents, as I’m sure you know, like to chew. And unfortunately they’re real fond of chewing things like insulation and wires.”
Sadie’s heart sank as she recalled the dead rodent carcasses she’d tossed out.
“So what you’re saying is that I need new wiring.”
“Well.” He scratched his ear again. “Your wiring might be okay. It’s tough to say unless we have a look. But if you’re adding the additional demands of a security system…”
He let his sentence hang, but Sadie didn’t have to be a mind-reader to finish it.
“So what’s all this going to cost?”
The Southern Comfort Series Box Set Page 100