by Sheila Kell
The woman hesitated a moment as if judging between her desire for the beverage and the payment that would be required. Desire won over, and she reached for the cup, took a sip and sighed in what sounded like pleasure. “That’s good stuff.”
A few long moments passed before Esme spoke again. “Okay, what do you want?”
“Court transcripts for Adrian Copeland’s case.”
“Now, you know there is a procedure for that, and I’m not part of it.”
“But, you can get them to me today. With their procedure, I could be old and gray by the time I receive them.” Not quite accurate, but still, this was more expeditious. She pulled down her eyebrows and tried to incorporate sadness in her eyes in an attempt to make her face look as pitiful as possible.
Esme laughed. “It ain’t that bad.”
Happy her statements—and facial expression—worked, but not ready to leave it sit and wait for the woman to decide, Kelly continued, “Okay, not that old and gray, but still….”
“So, you want me to break established procedure, dip into a file I have no business in and print it for you all for one hot beverage?” She cocked an eyebrow.
Kelly fought to keep the grin off her face. This could be their written play—almost word for word—whenever Kelly requested a file. Sometimes she wondered if Esme recorded the conversations for future use in either getting herself out of a jam or blackmail. Considering the woman, she decided no. It appeared to Kelly that the clerk enjoyed the banter. Hoping the appropriate sheepishness showed on her face, Kelly answered, “Well, yes.”
They broke into fits of laughter.
Jesting aside, Esme sobered and asked, “What are you going to do with it?”
She shrugged. “I want to see if he is innocent.”
“Hmph. Well, give me a bit and I’ll get it for you, but I want something in return.”
Unused to Esme asking for something, Kelly pretended to view her manicure and act like the question was normal. “What?”
“I don’t want to be seen down in records asking for this, so could you see what my soon-to-be ex-husband just filed? I want to make sure he’s not hiding assets from me.”
That sounded easy enough, although she wouldn’t be able to pick it up and bring it right back here if Esme didn’t want anyone to know she had it. Kelly shrugged. “Sure.”
Esme nodded. “Then give me some time.”
The urge to hug the woman hit her, but she ignored it. They weren’t that good of friends. “I’ll be back in an hour.” And she’d go to the records department and figure out how to discreetly give the information to Esme. Curiosity at what her friend’s husband might be up to grabbed hold of her.
Her friend nodded in agreement, and Kelly rose and left Esme to the computer she was already busy working with. After being let down that Esme’s ex had only acquired copies of their registered assets, she’d slide into a busy courtroom while she waited. Maybe she’d pick up something to bring back to the news desk.
It took longer than an hour for Esme to even attempt to pull the file since other work matters kept popping up for her to handle. With the late hour, they agreed that Kelly would pick them up the next morning.
The squeaking of her boots on the marble flooring followed her to the exit where a different security guard nodded a greeting to her. She smiled back and exited into the cold.
Clouds covered the sky and their dreary gloominess weighted on the area. Snow hadn’t finished melting from the last front, and the cold dampness in the air told her it was time for more. Getting back to work and then home before the storm settled in overrode her curiosity of the story.
Pulling on her gloves, she walked briskly to her car. With years of practice, she’d become accustomed to moving quickly through the elements without slipping on her heels, but she truly enjoyed walking with the boots. A huge gust of wind knocked her in the face, almost halting her progress. Dropping her head, she trudged forward when a siren screamed in the distance.
An uneventful drive home with lucky parking near her apartment had Kelly almost prancing to her front door only to come to a sliding halt when a tall, blond-haired man stood from his seated position on her front steps.
A slice of awareness glided over her as it always did when she saw this deliciously handsome man. It was a pity for womankind that he refused to be tied down since he evoked a similar reaction in all the women she knew. Looks, charm, confidence, he had it all. Searching for someone to replace him in her heart had led her to Brian and then back to loneliness. Yet, he’d never known she existed in that way.
Wearing a black leather jacket, and probably suffering from a freezing ass after sitting on the concrete steps, Trent McKenzie smiled at her as if it were any other day and he hadn’t left without a word. Her heart thudded in her chest at the sight of him.
He opened his arms, and she flew into them, tears slipping down her cheeks. He’d come back! God, how she loved this man.
Their embrace was cut short when Trent separated them, and with his ocean-blue eyes, he looked down at her belly before gazing back into her eyes. “Good God, Kelly, you’re pregnant!”
Wiping at the tears on her frozen face, she forced a smile. “Let’s get inside and get warm.” With her keys in her hand, she reached to unlock the door and stopped, her heart pounding in panic.
“What’s the matter?” Trent asked.
She looked at the doorknob, noticed the telltale scratch signs, and unease scrambled through her blood. Glancing back at Trent, she swallowed past the fear lodged in her throat, then stepped closer. “These scratches weren’t there when I locked up this morning.”
“You stay out here while I check it out.”
“Do you have your gun?” she asked, worried if someone might be in the house. “Maybe we should call the police.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Famous last words she thought.
HE NEEDED A swift kick in the ass after his open-mouth-and-insert-foot action. Shocked barely scratched the surface of the emotions that rolled through Trent at seeing Kelly’s rounded belly tightening her jacket. Christ. She must’ve married. Found the “Mr. Right” she’d been seeking. Had she married that Brian guy she’d started seeing before he left? For some reason knowing the man was her “Mr. Right” didn’t make him feel any better. He should be happy for her, but instead it actually sent an unexpected pang of longing and loss through him. Why hadn’t Megan said something?
“Do you think they could’ve been made by your husband?” He tried to sound casual, but he thought he’d probably failed at her expression.
Sadness passed over her features before she schooled herself, but not enough that he could tell something happened. Something he would’ve known about had he been here. “I’m not married.”
Well, hell. That answer only fed to more questions, making him forget the small problem of the lock. The lock! Snapping himself back to the situation at hand, he focused his mind. Reaching up, he checked the doorknob to find it locked. Turning back to Kelly, he managed to not take another look at her protruding belly. He reached out his hand. “Hand me the key.”
That was when he noticed a shadow of fear that had been lurking in her eyes from the moment she’d mentioned the problems with the lock. His insides twisted into knots knowing she had even a slight amount of fear. She deserved all that was good in the world, not fear. “It might be nothing—someone who tried to break in and failed. Just in case, stay right here, and I’ll check it out.”
She nodded. With shaking hands, she placed the keys with her palm tree key chain in his outstretched hand. “There’s a baseball bat beside the door.”
His brows shot up in astonishment and intrigue. A baseball bat? At least she hadn’t fought to follow him inside. Maybe being pregnant had given her more sense because the Kelly he knew would’ve pitched a fit to follow. The knot in his gut twisted at the thought of her walking into danger. He had to focus but seeing her pregnant just stood out in his mind and bl
ocking it out—even for a short term—was damn hard.
She shrugged, hard resolve in her gaze. “Living alone can sometimes suck.”
When she placed a hand on her belly, a new situation confronted him—a pregnant Kelly with no husband. The bastard who knocked her up would step up and be a father. With none of her big brothers close, he readily accepted the task of seeing to her future. Trent would have to deal with that after he made sure no danger awaited her inside. Shaking his head, he turned back to her apartment, slipped the key in the lock, quietly opened the door, and slid inside to stillness and darkness.
Having been in her apartment numerous times, he didn’t wait fully for his eyes to adjust. Nothing appeared to be disturbed, which made him wonder if a potential thief had actually made it inside her apartment.
Passing through the living room, he skirted around the gray couch with its orange pillows. He’d never understood that but Kelly had told him orange was a creative color and since her desk was in the far corner of the room, she craved creative. Whatever. Orange was for the fruit. Her desk. He swiveled his head to the desk nestled in the corner and dropped his brows at her laptop sitting there, unharmed.
He made his way in that direction when a figure bounded from behind the curtains. His pulse lurched high in his throat. With little time to protect himself, he was able to duck and tackle the intruder at the waist, knocking them both to the floor. The sound of something crashing to the floor and breaking barely penetrated his senses. He had a scrapper on his hands to contend with.
Rolling around, Trent held the dominant position of being on top but was thrown over quickly by his assailant. The man, now on top, held in place by Trent because he wasn’t letting this asshole leave without the police, threw a punch, and Trent gritted at the sharp pain of the glancing blow to his jaw as he took advantage of the man’s unbalance and tumbled them again.
The intruder tossed up a forearm that stopped Trent’s fist from plowing into his face. Shifting, Trent used his weight to keep the man down and grabbed both arms, holding them to the floor. Getting a good look at the intruder, he wanted to spit in his face.
The intruder wind-milled his legs and toppled Trent. They rolled, Trent holding him tightly and the assailant trying to escape. Once Trent was back on top, he didn’t plan to lose control of the situation this time. No one dared harm his Kelly.
As soon as he rolled on top, a mind-splitting pain hit the back of his neck and shot through his body, and he unconsciously loosened his grip before he slumped over. The intruder crawled out from under him before Trent could recover his senses.
Dizziness washed over him and a bout of nausea assailed him. With his hand on the back of his neck and skull, he was helpless to do anything but watch the man leave. Looking behind him, he frowned at Kelly standing there with a baseball bat in her hand.
“Oh my God, Trent.” The metal bat clattered to the wood floor and the noise resonated in his head like a trumpet being blown in his ear. “I am so sorry. You two were rolling around, and I thought he had you pinned.” She moved to his side as he tried to stand. Like she would be much use helping him to his feet. “Do you need an ambulance? Or to go to the hospital?”
How could she have so little faith in him? That kind of pissed him off. With what he did for a living, she should know he could take care of himself. Then again, this was Kelly. She had a mind of her own, and he couldn’t fault her wanting to help. But, dammit, she put herself in danger. His head hurt thinking this back and forth knowing he’d never settle on whether to be angry with her or proud of her.
After getting him settled on the couch, she made a big deal of checking the wound, which he could tell would be a goose egg and bruise. He tightened his jaw at how tender the spot was already. “I’ll be fine. No hospital.” That was the last place he wanted to go. He’d have to be bleeding to death for him to voluntarily go back.
While she prepared an ice pack in the kitchen, he stood, swayed a bit, then checked the rest of the apartment and ensured the doors and windows were secure. They didn’t need a repeat performance.
Returning, she handed him the ice pack, which he placed on his throbbing neck. Even though expecting it, he jolted at the freezing coldness when it hit his skin. Goose bumps dotted his flesh at the sudden drop in temperature around his wound.
“Trent, I am so sorry. I heard the crash, and when you didn’t come back, I got worried. I thought I was helping. I never meant to hit you.” She fretted her hands as she spoke and he wanted to reach out and soothe her, but his damn head hurt too badly to do anything but sit there.
“Don’t worry about it, Kelly. You should call the police.”
“But, what if nothing’s missing?”
“What the fuck does that matter?” Shock slapped him at her response. “The guy broke into your place and tried to beat the shit out of me. Don’t you think the police should know?”
“Not to discount his deserving to pay for trying to hurt you, but you know the police as well as I do. Do you really think they’ll catch him if nothing is missing for him to pawn?”
Sighing in resignation because he understood her, Trent knew she’d be set on this. He could push it, but she had a point. Although he wouldn’t tell her that. He could describe their intruder, but that case would rank very low on the list for the officers who responded. It could actually take them from something more important. But wasn’t Kelly’s safety just as important as murders? In his mind it was, but probably not in the police department’s.
So what that he’d almost had his ass kicked? No. He’d had it in control—until Kelly tried to help.
A smile broke out on his face. She’d tried to help him. No woman had come to his rescue when he’d been in a fight. He didn’t need it, but he kind of liked that Kelly had the gumption to do it. Although he’d have been pretty pissed had she been hurt. More than pretty pissed.
Thinking back to their current situation, he’d talk with Jesse about what had happened and take it from there. Unless something had been stolen. “Take a look around and see if anything is missing.”
She glanced around the room, and her eyes zeroed in on her desk. After reaching it, she frantically searched the area, but when she saw him noticing, she acted as if nothing was amiss.
“Something missing?” With the laptop still there, he couldn’t see what else a thief would’ve taken while leaving the computer. Which left him to wonder if it had been an actual thief. That put a new spin on things. Could they have been scoping out one of her stories?
“No.”
He knew she lied because her eyes shifted when she answered, avoiding his direct gaze. As far as he knew, she’d never lied to him before. Why now? For something stolen? He was ready to turn her over his knee. That thought tantalized his body, making it tighten in places it shouldn’t while they were dealing with the break-in.
“To me, nothing looks out of place, but you might want to check the rooms. It’s been a while since I’ve been here, and I don’t know about jewelry.”
Nodding once, she scooted off to her bedroom. With her out of the room, he poked around her desk and noticed nothing that struck him as odd. Something bothered her, and he’d bet his last dollar that man had escaped with something important to her.
Kelly returned a few minutes later to him waiting by the couch for her. “Nothing’s missing.”
Yeah, right. He’d tackle that later. “Now come here and give me another hug,” Trent instructed as he opened his arms wide.
With a smile, she rushed forward and embraced him. The contact warmed his blood. It felt so good, even with that belly pushing into his as she tried to get closer. A barely noticeable cherry scent tantalized his nostrils, bringing back fond memories of their times together, like when he’d held her after a breakup from an asshole who’d just wanted to fuck her. Then there was the scent of— Wait, a minute. This isn’t right. He held onto that for a moment and greeted her instead, “I missed you, Kelly.”
“I mi
ssed you, too.”
“Did you change perfume?”
She laughed against his chest. “Only you would notice that. I’m now using Ralph Lauren’s Romance. Like it?”
Did he ever? He only hoped she hadn’t changed it for the fucker who got her pregnant and didn’t marry her. “I like it on you.” And, it did fit her well as far as he was concerned.
“Megan gave it to me for Christmas.”
Relief spiked through him at the gift Kelly’s friend had bestowed to her. He’d never been jealous of Kelly dating. Okay, he couldn’t lie to himself, he’d been jealous all right, but that was because he didn’t think any of the men were good enough for her. Yet just the fact she may have been wearing perfume for someone in particular had that green-eyed monster surging through him. That made no sense considering she was his friend, not a lover.
They separated, and he wanted to grab her back and hold tight. Something had shifted in him and holding her seemed important… and necessary. He couldn’t explain it and didn’t want to try. He’d just missed her in his life as his friend… confidant. Yes, his best friend.
“You dyed your hair blonde.”
She touched her hair and shrugged. “One of those things I just had to do. Some say it’s pregnancy hormones in action. I say that it’s about time. Like it?” She spun her head from side to side to show off her nearly shoulder-length hair.
The blonde did suit her, but he also loved her natural, auburn colored hair. Peering intently, he decided he could get used to blonde too. Luckily, she could wear either color well. He nodded. “I like it.”
Blushing, she shifted another step away from him. “I’ve been dying for some hot chocolate. And you could use something while you hold that ice pack in place,” she said on her way to the kitchen.
He caught himself watching the swish of her butt as she walked. Slapping himself wasn’t good enough, he’d never done that to her before. Okay, maybe the first time or two—before he’d come to know her. Since then, he’d fought the sensation that pulled at him to ogle her when they were together. Instead, he’d just give his dick a lecture when he knew he’d have to hold her.