by Debbie Mason
“Are you Gillian?”
“No, and you’re not Aidan.”
“I kinda am.”
Sweet Caroline, she’d said Aidan instead of Adrian. Closing the laptop, she stood up with as much dignity as she could muster after revealing her secret crush to her crushee. “I’m going to bed.”
“You forgot these.”
She turned to see him holding up her black leggings and long-sleeve gray T-shirt. “Thank you,” she said coolly, reaching out to take them. No way would she let him see her sweat.
“Jesus. Julia, you might want to, ah.” He motioned at her with his finger.
She looked down and gave a strangled eek, whirling on her heel as she clutched her robe to her chest. She’d just flashed him.
* * *
Aidan stood in the middle of Julia’s bedroom debating whether he should leave or not. She was ostensibly still changing in the bathroom. She’d been in there for more than half an hour.
So, yeah, he got that he’d embarrassed her by reading her book and insisting he was the hero, Adrian Greystone. Even though he had no doubt that he was—none whatsoever—he should have shut up about it. He wouldn’t have said anything if she hadn’t guessed he’d read her book. At first he hadn’t realized she was the author. He’d been telling the truth. He’d started reading because he was bored and then he’d gotten into the story.
Admittedly, because he’d figured out by then who the writer was and thought he might learn her secrets. He’d discovered two, and they were mind-blowing. He just hadn’t figured out if they were the good or bad kind of mind-blowing yet.
At the moment, he was leaning toward bad. If Julia had a crush on him as her book and her reaction seemed to imply, he probably shouldn’t be hanging around her. He didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. He liked her. She was adorable, and sweet. She was also vulnerable, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. She was the type of woman who wanted the life Aidan had left behind. All he was up for now was hot sex, no strings, and no expectations.
And therein lay his problem. The woman he’d like to have a no-strings relationship with was the woman who’d written the hottest sex scenes he’d ever read and who had a body who rocked his world. The same woman who just then walked back into her bedroom with a dazed expression on her face.
“You didn’t just clean my bedroom. You cleaned my entire apartment.”
“Yeah, it only took me a couple of hours.” She didn’t pick up on his sarcasm. Her apartment had been a disaster. She was either a slob or her world was out of control. He’d bet on it being the latter. “You know, this is what Finn and I were talking to you about last night.”
“When? I don’t remember Finn saying anything about my apartment being a mess.”
He didn’t miss that she made no mention of him. “What about me telling you to cut back on your commitments before you burn out?”
“I’ve got everything under control,” she said, retrieving her laptop from the ottoman.
“Is that right? So why did I practically need a shovel to clean out your living room? You have no real food in the place, your cell phone was cut off, and you’re past due on your heat.”
She frowned and sat on her bed. “I’m positive I paid my heating bill.” She clicked through screens on her computer. “I don’t understand. I…I guess I didn’t pay it after all. I have two days before they put me into collection.”
He sat beside her. She looked pale and forlorn. “Don’t worry. I’ll call and pay your bill for you.” The mortgage and child support had already come out of his account, and so had the rent to his dad. So he was good. It ticked him off that he actually had to think before he’d made the offer. Maybe Julia had done him a favor suggesting to Harper that they sell the house. He couldn’t continue living this way.
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you to offer, but I have money. That’s not the problem.”
Last time he’d checked, she’d been scraping to get by. Granted, that had been in July, but still… “You don’t have to be embarrassed, Julia. I can afford to—”
She tapped the screen and turned it to face him. He blinked at the amounts in her checking and saving accounts. “Okay, so you’re right. Money isn’t your problem.”
“Why would you assume that it was?”
Yeah, not going there. He’d had a friend in the DEA run a search on her financials. “I don’t know. I got the impression business was down. And you’re not paying your bills.”
“Business hasn’t been great, but it’s picking up. I depend on my holiday sales. My income from my writing has been good though.”
“That’s great. I’m happy for you.” He dug out his phone and handed it to her. “Get your bills straightened out, and I’ll heat up your soup. You need to eat.”
“I’ll borrow your phone to make the calls, but you don’t have to take care of me. I’m feeling better, honest. I feel bad enough that you obviously lost a day of work because of me.”
“I’m suspended with pay for a week.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry. I keep trying to help, and in the end, I just make things worse for you.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I overreacted. I need to work on that. But there’s something you can help me with. I get bored easily, and you have too much on your plate, so put me to work.”
What was his problem? He’d just decided he needed to keep his distance, and here he was offering to spend more time with her. It didn’t matter that he wanted to. He knew what happened when he let his feelings overrule his brain—nothing good. And Julia brought out his protective instincts. If she accepted his offer, she’d no doubt want him to help with the thing he wanted to avoid even more than her: holiday events. He’d seen her schedule for the next couple of weeks leading up to the big day, and it was staggering.
He was trying to come up with a way to renege on his offer without hurting her feelings when she said, “If you’re serious, I could use some help with my book. It’ll be a huge weight off my shoulders when I get Warrior’s Touch off my plate and onto my editor’s. I thought maybe you could give me some feedback and some advice on the fight scenes?”
“I guess,” he said slowly, and then realized he could help her out without spending much time with her. He’d just ignore the part of his brain that had changed fight scenes to sex scenes. But first, he should probably clear something up. “Just so you know, I was teasing you about me being Adrian Greystone.”
“It’s okay. I was just embarrassed you figured it out.”
“So you are in love with me?” he said, his voice rising an octave. After twenty years with the DEA, the past decade working undercover, it took a lot to rattle him. The thought that Julia might be in love with him did more than just rattle him; it terrified him. Because somehow she not only got to him, but she got him.
“Of course not. Some authors use actors and actresses as their inspiration for their characters, and I use people from town or that I know or have briefly met. Using you as inspiration for Adrian was a no-brainer. You’re like every woman’s bad-boy fantasy.”
“But not yours?”
“No. I prefer a beta male to an alpha. No offense. It’s just that I have three older brothers. I like a sensitive, artistic man. Quiet and gentle and a little geeky.”
“Like Jack Summers, the guy with all the answers. Who was your inspiration for him? He seems to be carrying a lot of guilt for something that happened in the first book.”
“I have a copy of Warrior’s Kiss you can borrow. It might help if you read it before making suggestions for Warrior’s Touch.”
He thought there might be a story there. She’d purposefully avoided telling him who her inspiration for Jack was. “What about Gillian?”
“She’s the kind of woman I aspire to be.”
“Aspire harder. The woman has saying no down to a science. The sooner you learn that particular trait the better. The White Witch is an interesting character. I can’t tell i
f she’s good or evil. Who was your inspiration for her?”
“My mom. She died when I was twelve. She was bipolar.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been tough.”
“Tougher for my dad and brothers than me, I think. They tried to protect me. I didn’t know she was bipolar until a few weeks before she died. In my eyes, she was the most amazing mom on the planet.”
“Do you wish they’d told you?”
“Yes… it would have been better if they had.”
There was a story there. Something that left a mark. He could tell by the hesitation in her voice, the shadow that crossed her face.
With a faint smile, she lifted a shoulder. “That’s what happens when you’re the youngest and have three brothers. I suppose it didn’t help that I looked a lot like my mom and had a vivid imagination.”
No, he imagined it didn’t. It must have been tough for them to let Julia move halfway across the country too. The over-the-top alarm system made sense now.
Her stomach growled, and she self-consciously covered it with a pillow. He moved to the nightstand to retrieve the cold cup of soup. “I’ll heat this up. We can work on those fight scenes while you eat.”
He turned and walked straight into the chief. “Where the hell did you come from?” he snapped. His anger was more at himself than at Benson. Aidan had been so caught up in Julia that he hadn’t heard his boss come in. That had never happened to him before. Ever.
“I think the better question would be, what are you doing here, Gallagher?”
Chapter Thirteen
It was just like old times. Colleen and Kitty were in the study at the manor with a tea tray between them listening to the Christmas carols playing in the background. There were some differences though. Namely, Kitty didn’t know Colleen was there. Her daughter-in-law was also the one sitting behind Colleen’s formidable desk while Colleen sat in Kitty’s old chair.
Feeling a tad resentful, Colleen watched as her daughter-in-law plucked away at the computer keys while nibbling on a scone. They were Colleen’s favorite. The ones with the raisins. And the real reason for her resentment. She could smell them but couldn’t taste them.
“Peck, peck, peck, you’ll get nowhere typing like that. What the bejaysus are you working on anyway?” Colleen moved to stand behind Kitty. Looking over her daughter-in-law’s shoulder, she perused the names on the screen. “You consider Owen O’Malley an eligible bachelor, do you? The man’s ninety if he’s a day. And what’s Kyle Bishop doing on your list? I thought you and Rosa had come to your senses. Obviously you haven’t if you’ve got Charlie Angel on there too.” She didn’t fail to notice Kitty’s name beside the owner of the Salty Dog. There were several names Colleen didn’t recognize, but the ones that she did made her nervous. They were a disreputable lot. Not all of them, mind you. Owen O’Malley was a good sort. Just a little old, to her way of thinking.
“Now let’s try this again,” Kitty murmured to herself as she leaned in to the screen. She moved the mouse, clicked File, and then clicked Print. Her brow furrowed as she turned to the printer. When the green light continued flashing and nothing happened, she reached over to press buttons.
There was a rap on the study door. Jasper opened it and stuck his head inside. “The Widows Club have arrived for your meeting, Miss Kitty.”
“Thank you.” She made a moue that was guaranteed to have Jasper running to her side. Kitty had a way about her. Even when she was younger, men were inspired to protect her due to her fragile, helpless air. “Would you mind giving me a hand? I can’t seem to get the printer to work.”
“Certainly, miss.”
“How can you not see that he’d give you the world if you but asked, Kitty?” Colleen prayed that he simply printed off the paper without reading it. Jasper had been more like himself since Kitty had publicly dumped Kyle Bishop. And now, after reading the books they’d bought from Julia’s store, Kitty and Rosa had come up with a plan to match not only themselves but the entire Widows Club.
Colleen moved around to the front of the desk—the better to observe the two.
Jasper leaned around Kitty, taking his time moving the cursor on the screen. From the blissful expression on his angular face, he appeared to be inhaling her daughter-in-law’s French perfume.
“I’ve made a mess of it, haven’t I?”
He blinked. “Quite. But it’s nothing I can’t…” His eyes narrowed on the screen, and his movements suddenly became brisk and abrupt.
Kitty gave a delighted clap when the printer began spitting out the pages. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Colleen winced at the wounded expression that came over Jasper’s face. The man who rarely showed emotion was an open book right now. Only Kitty didn’t see it. She was too busy gathering up her papers. “Oh, Jasper, do you remember where Mother Gallagher hid the Ouija board? Rosa and I can’t get everyone to agree with their suggested matches, so I think what we need is some spiritual guidance to confirm our choices.”
Without saying a word, Jasper turned to unlock the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. He pulled out the Ouija board that Colleen had locked away years before. She’d found her great-grandchildren playing with it and had meant to throw the thing away the next day.
He set the dusty spirit board by Kitty’s elbow, muttering, “You’ve lived your entire life in Harmony Harbor. It seems to me you shouldn’t require a Ouija board to tell you that half the men on your list are too young for all of you and the other half are reprobates. I may not have lived here as long as you, but I’m well aware of their reputations.”
Kitty released a soft gasp, no doubt shocked by the way Jasper had spoken to her. He was never short or angry with Kitty. He’d only ever treated her with deference and devotion.
Poor lad. He’d loved Kitty from afar for years, and now it sounded like once again she’d picked someone else. And as far as Jasper would be concerned, she couldn’t have made a worse choice. Jasper and the owner of the Salty Dog, Charlie Angel, had a long and unpleasant past.
“If you don’t believe me, all you have to do is consult Madame’s—”
“For the love of all that is holy, what’s gotten into you, my boy?” Before he spilled the beans and ruined everything, Colleen knocked a book to the floor.
Both Kitty and Jasper startled, but it didn’t stop him from finishing his remark. “Book.”
Looking confused, Kitty stared after Jasper as he strode from the study. Colleen hoped her daughter-in-law’s perplexed expression indicated that she was more concerned by Jasper’s abrupt demeanor and departure than what he’d said. To ensure that was the case, Colleen followed Kitty to the sitting room where the members of the Widows Club had gathered.
At first, everything seemed fine. The women exchanged pleasantries, talking about their upcoming choral performance at the manor as they slowly lowered themselves onto the carpet in the middle of the wood-paneled room.
“What in the name of all that’s holy do they think they’re doing? They’ll never be able to get back up,” Colleen muttered, and then refocused on Kitty, watching with trepidation as she set the Ouija board in the center of the Oriental rug. The fact the women were about to open a portal to the spirit world bothered her almost as much as Kitty realizing that The Secret Keeper of Harmony Harbor had been found.
“Jasper said something rather worrisome to me when I asked him if he knew where the Ouija board was,” Kitty confided to her friends.
Colleen bowed her head. She should have known Jasper’s remark hadn’t escaped her daughter-in-law’s notice.
“If the bag of bones told you this is not a good idea then, sì, I agree with him.”
“You never agree with Jasper about anything, Rosa. Why would you start now?” Kitty said.
“Because it’s dangerous to call on the spirits, capisce?”
“I agree with Jasper and Rosa, Kitty,” Ida Fitzgerald said. “What if our husbands are listening in from heaven when we
ask for advice about which men we should be dating?”
“Pssh, I hope mine is, the good for nothing. Running off without a word and leaving me to raise three bambinos on my own,” Rosa said.
Rosa would be in for a shock if the spirit of her husband came through. And Jasper would be in serious trouble. Sometimes Colleen thought she should have Jasper burn her memoirs. But there were as many people who could be helped by them as could be hurt. In the right hands, the book wasn’t dangerous. In the wrong hands…
“No, it wasn’t about the Ouija board. It was about what we’re using it for. I told him we were asking for spiritual guidance about the men on our list. He said…” She shivered. “Just the thought of what he said gives me goose bumps. It felt like someone had walked over my grave.”
The women leaned forward, their eyes wide. “What did he say?” several of them asked at the same time.
“He said we didn’t need a Ouija board to tell us that half the men on our list were reprobates and the other half were too young for us. If we don’t believe him, he says all we have to do is consult Madame’s book.”
“Oh, Madonna mia, you think he has the book?” Rosa asked, the color leaching from her face. She’d be worried that the secret she’d told Colleen all these years before would come out. She had no idea that it had been discovered a long time ago.
Kitty shook her head. “No, I’m sure he would have told me if he did. Still, it was a worrisome admission. I’d come to believe the book was no longer a threat. That perhaps Mother Gallagher had gotten rid of it. Or that it was lost forever.”
“Of course he has the book. He was Colleen’s right-hand man. She rarely made a move without consulting him. We should have known it was Jasper all along. We have to get the book from him, Kitty,” Ida said.
Oh yes, Ida had good reason to want the book too. She wouldn’t want anyone to know about her granddaughters. She’d come to Colleen because she needed help to hide one and protect the other.
“Kitty, while you distract Jasper, we’ll search his room,” Rosa said, and all the women agreed. Except Colleen’s daughter-in-law, who looked nervous.