by Lori Foster
“Hello?”
The mellow, almost lazy tone of her voice had Dean smiling. “Hey. You hungry?”
“Mmm. I don’t know. What are you thinking?”
Dean wanted nothing more than to crash on the couch with her, but he said, “We can go out if you want. I recall promising you a few dates.”
“I plan to hold you to them.”
“Or I can bring something home.”
That word home hung between them with some silent but stirring meaning.
After a moment, Eve said, “If you want to go out, I can throw on jeans.”
Meaning she didn’t have anything on right now? A mental picture formed, teasing Dean and adding a gruff tone to his voice. “Whichever you want.”
“You really don’t have a preference?”
“No,” he lied.
“Then let’s just eat here. I’ve been watching another of your fights, sort of in slow motion. Do you think you could teach me some moves?”
Anticipation dulled Dean’s other senses. “Yeah,” he said, dragging out the word, savoring the thought. “I can do that.”
His phone beeped with an incoming call. Dean ignored it.
“I’ll go by the hotel first to grab some things and shower. What should I pick up?”
“Surprise me.” The phone beeped again, and Eve said, “Are you getting a call?”
“I’m ignoring it.”
“It might be Cam or Jacki.”
He glanced at the lighted number and said, “It’s probably not.”
“Who is it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t recognize the number.”
“Dean, check it. It could be important.”
Her nagging didn’t annoy him. Just the opposite—it somehow made their relationship feel more official.
“Whoever it was just hung up. Don’t worry about it. If it was Jacki or Cam with a problem, they’d call you next, right?”
“Probably.”
Dean glanced in the rearview mirror, still saw no one, and put the car in drive. “I’ll be there soon, okay?”
Voice soft, Eve said, “I’m looking forward to it.”
A TOP the hill behind his hotel, Roger dropped down to sit alone in the dirt and dead leaves. Night insects began stirring, but he paid no attention to them. It didn’t matter that he’d gotten mud on his shoes or that his suit pants had snagged several times on sticker bushes.
Nothing much mattered at all, not anymore.
His time had about run out. If he really wanted to change anything, he’d have to do it soon.
But how? He’d tried, and he’d failed.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Roger remembered Cam’s reaction when he’d again asked her to marry him. He’d rushed things, he knew that now. But what else could he have done when all his plans were crumbling around him?
He saw Cam’s sweet but sad smile. He saw the sympathy in her eyes. Even before she said no, the refusal began echoing in his head.
Walking away from her had seemed his only option. Cam called after him, but he didn’t want to hear her assurances, her excuses. Not anymore.
Her goddamned brother had changed everything.
Bastard.
Leaning back against a tree, Roger stared at his hotel at the bottom of the hill. From his vantage point, he could see the lot filled with cars, the lights as they came on automatically, one by one. He saw cars driving by, people coming and going.
He knew what he had to do.
Rage, disappointment, and regret burned in his veins. He hadn’t wanted to do it, not ever. But Cam literally left him with no choice. All his life, he’d been fucked by those around him. Cheated of what was rightfully his, of what he deserved. What he wanted.
Not again. Not this time.
He had his back to the wall. He had nothing more to lose.
WHEN Dean came out of his hotel room, he found Gregor propped against the wall, waiting for him.
Before he could ask any questions, Gregor said, “About damn time,” and fell into step beside him. “I would’ve knocked, but I couldn’t remember which room was yours.”
“Something wrong?”
“If you consider your sister gettin’ surgery wrong, then yeah.”
Dean turned so fast that Gregor bounded back in surprise. “What the hell are you talking about? Jacki’s sick? Hurt?”
“No. Shit. Calm down, all right? I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Scare him? He’d more than scared him. Dean frowned at that and mentally collected himself. “What surgery is she getting?”
“She’s not. Not now anyway.”
His patience run thin, Dean said, “Gregor,” in a way that spurred the other man to spit it out.
“Roger was goin’ to pick up the tab on a boob job for her.”
Of all the things Gregor could have said, that one left Dean’s brain scrambling to decipher. He didn’t even want to think about Jacki having boobs, for God’s sake. But for Roger to be involved, for him to have suggested…
Dean started away with a purpose. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch.”
“No way, man.” Gregor hurried to catch up. “If anyone gets to kill him, it’ll be me.”
Dean didn’t slow down. “Then why the fuck are you here bothering me?”
“Jacki made me promise I wouldn’t.”
Dean barked a laugh. “That’s your problem. I didn’t promise jack shit.”
Grinning ear to ear, Gregor said, “Hey, that’s right. Well, hold up then. At least let me watch.”
They made it to the lobby and found it empty. Again.
Dean stormed up to the front desk and banged on a small bell until a young man presented himself. But he didn’t know where Cam or Roger might be, and Roger didn’t answer his page. The young man offered to take a message, and Dean declined the offer.
Frustrated, Dean ran a hand through his hair, considered his options, and came to the crazy conclusion that maybe he should discuss this with Eve. She knew Jacki better than he did. She’d be rational about it, instead of emotional, which he knew he damn well was.
On that thought, Dean stalked from the hotel, totally forgetting that Gregor dogged his heels.
“Hold up, will ya?”
Dean stopped, closed his eyes, and slowly turned. “What now?”
“I wanna know what you’re plannin’ to do.”
“I don’t know yet.” Dean continued on to his car—this time parked closer to the building, under a bright lamp. And then, with accusation and annoyance, “What the hell was Jacki thinking?”
Gregor rolled a shoulder. “That she needed a bigger rack to get a guy’s interest, I guess.”
Dean stared at him.
“She’s not real endowed in that department, not that I mind at all, but she didn’t know that—”
“Forget I asked.” Head spinning, Dean unlocked his car door.
As if he hadn’t spoken, Gregor leaned back on the car and continued. “I told her she was already sexy as hell.”
“Gregor—”
“You bein’ her brother and all, you probably don’t see it. But she’s hot.”
“Do you want me to kill you, too?”
Gregor shook his head, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “I reckon she’s convinced, because she said she’d forget about that whole cuttin’ and addin’ plastic business.”
Good God. “Not another word.”
“You know, I’d like nothin’ more than to see old Rog flattened like a bug, but it did seem important to Jacki that I leave the man intact.”
A safer subject. Dean started to relax. “Yeah. Cam’s probably in love with Roger, and that’ll make him important to Jacki, too.”
“Damn, Havoc. That’s real astute of you.”
In a killing mood, Dean turned on Gregor. “Are you trying to egg me into a fight?”
“Nah. Course not. But that’s exactly what Jacki said.” He grinned. “I guess you know her pretty good now, huh?”
Dean
started to tell Gregor what he could do with his observations when an insect, probably mammoth in size given the noise it made, buzzed right past his ear. He cursed, swatted at the bug, and a second later Gregor landed against him full force.
Taken off guard, it was an easy thing for Gregor to throw him to the ground. But it wouldn’t be so easy for him to keep him there.
Dean reacted instinctively. He went with the momentum, turning as they landed to reverse the position so that he was on top. He under-hooked Gregor’s thick arms, put the boots in on his legs, and effectively left Gregor with no way to move.
Staring into Gregor’s eyes at close range, Dean calmly demanded, “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
Gregor struggled against him and said with a gasp, “Gunshot.”
Confused, Dean frowned at him—and a bullet hit the ground right next to them, sending up a spatter of gravel and…blue paint. “Oh shit.”
Together they rolled out of the way and behind Dean’s car.
Dean already had his cell phone in his hand when Gregor said in disgust, “Damned annoyin’ kids.”
“Kids?” Dean asked, while waiting for a cop to answer his call.
“Doncha think? I mean, it’s paintball, right?” Gregor shook his head. “Don’t mind tellin’ you, it scared the shit out of me. I thought it was a real gun, with real bullets. And that first shot damn near took off your ear.”
“If that’s your way of explaining why you jumped me, no explanation is necessary.”
Gregor pulled on his ear. “I was just sayin’…Hey, listen, no more shots.”
Dean gave him a look. “Maybe that’s because we’re hiding, so they don’t have a target.” Finally the police answered his call, and within ten minutes, a cruiser showed up, lights and sirens blaring. People left the hotel to investigate the commotion.
And still Roger didn’t present himself.
But how could Dean point the finger at him without more evidence?
More?
Hell, he had none. Not really. Because of that, Dean left it to the cops to figure out what they could while he called Eve to let her know he’d be late and why. He ended his call just in time to see Gregor whispering into his own phone.
“Jacki?”
Gregor nodded, said a few things more, and finally said his good-byes. “Too bad Cam doesn’t have a cell phone. You could call her, too.”
No cell phone? That was news to Dean. His surprise must have shown, because Gregor elaborated.
“I asked Jacki for her number, but she said that neither one of them had a cell. They don’t like monthly bills.”
Dean put his hands on his hips and walked away. It wasn’t that they didn’t like monthly bills, but rather that they couldn’t afford them.
If he hadn’t been so busy trying to keep Cam and Jacki at arm’s length, maybe he’d have known that. Then he could have…
His thoughts tripped up at that point. Cam already resented the money he spent on the roof and car, and he still intended to do other repairs to the home’s interior.
How the hell would he have convinced her to keep a cell phone and let him pay the monthly bill? And why did he want to so badly anyway?
But Dean already knew the answer to that.
They were his sisters.
Twenty years had passed, and yet, not a single day over all that time really mattered. Not anymore.
Maybe family was like that. Cam had never doubted their connection. From jump, she’d claimed him and expected him to allow her to do so.
He’d fought it, but now Dean had to admit that Cam had won.
Damn but he wanted to talk to Eve about this.
Officer Ramsey, a veteran of twenty years, stopped to talk with Dean while his partner spoke with the crowd.
“We checked around the area, but you know how it is. All we found were a few spent paintballs. They were probably shot from somewhere up the hill. The shooter would be able to see you two down here beneath all the security lights, while keeping himself well hidden in the dark.”
“Cowardly bastard,” Dean muttered, convinced more than ever that Roger was behind the attacks.
“You think it was kids?” Gregor wanted to know.
The cop shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. It’s still a serious assault. One or both of you could have been killed.”
Gregor scoffed at that. “From a toy gun?”
Dead serious, the cop stuck his clipboard under his arm and launched into a lecture. “In my day, it was BB guns. I knew a lot of boys who got hurt by those things. A few even blinded. Now the paintball gun has taken over as the lethal weapon of choice for kids.”
“Lethal?” Gregor asked.
“Over three million of the damn things were sold in our country this year. But just because they use compressed air instead of gunpowder to launch their projectiles doesn’t make them any less powerful than a regular firearm. And because people consider them toys, they don’t take near the precautions they should.”
“I didn’t know,” Gregor said, looking suitably chastised.
“You want some statistics? I got statistics coming out my ass.” Ramsey held up a finger. “The muzzle velocity of a paintball gun can range from around a hundred and fifty feet a second to twelve hundred feet a second. For traditional firearm pistols, it’s seven hundred and fifty to fourteen hundred feet a second.”
Dean whistled. “Not much difference.”
Another finger went into the air. “There’re over twenty thousand serious injuries and approximately four deaths every year.”
Gregor rubbed the back of his neck, ill at ease with the rebuke.
A third finger went up, accompanied by a hard stare. “Most of those injuries and nearly all the deaths are kids under the age of fifteen.”
Feeling for Gregor, Dean clapped the cop on the shoulder. “Must be tough to deal with.”
“You can take that to the bank. I see parents all the time who want to argue that they’re toy guns. If I had my way, they’d be off the market. Then we wouldn’t have to deal with shit like this.” He indicated the splattered paint in the hotel’s parking lot.
Gregor cleared his throat. “What’s the chance of catchin’ the kids who did this?”
“Slim to none, and unfortunately, Slim’s outta town. We don’t have any witnesses and not much in the way of evidence. The shooter or shooters are long gone. And I can’t very well shake every kid in town who owns a paintball gun. But I’ll be watching, and if I come up with anything, I’ll let you both know.”
Dean shook his hand. “We understand. Thanks for coming out so quickly.”
“I only wish we could do more.”
As the officers left, Dean looked toward the hotel.
Truthfully he was sort of glad the cops couldn’t nail anyone in particular.
He wanted to deal with Roger himself.
WHEN Dean finally made it home, Eve was starved. She took one look at him as he walked in and put her arms around him. Odd how her grumpiness just evaporated away the second she touched him.
He did his best to hug her back, considering he held a bucket of chicken and a bag of side dishes.
“Hey,” he said, “you okay?”
Eve leaned back to look at him. “You crazy man. Of course, I’m okay. I’m offering you comfort from your lousy day.”
That sexy grin she’d grown to adore made him look less tired. “Comfort, huh?” He stepped back to eye her head to toe. “Look at you. Is it possible for you not to look sexy?”
Eve smiled. She’d chosen the white and pink striped cami with matching floral boy shorts just for him. “I had the flu once.” She took the food from him and started for the kitchen. “I was sweaty with a fever, throwing up every ten minutes, and felt too lousy to even comb my hair. Trust me, it was a very ugly thing.”
“I wish I’d been here to help you.”
Her heart did a small flip. Yeah, Dean would have helped. And knowing him now, she didn’t think he would have minded her
icky appearance all that much. He was so earthy, so natural about life and the trials that came with it, that he probably just rolled with the punches on everything.
“You know, after the day you had, we could have just thrown together peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches. You didn’t have to stop for food.”
“I wanted to.”
When she reached up to the cabinet to retrieve two plates, Dean put his arms around her and hugged her from behind.
Nuzzling against her nape, he whispered, “I missed you.”
And her heart did another flip. If he kept that up, she’d be dizzy and breathless in no time. Plates in hand, she turned in his arms and smiled to soften what she’d say next.
Dean looked at her and sighed. “Okay, what is it?”
His intuition surprised her, but she didn’t doubt it. “I think you should tell Cam what’s going on.”
“Not yet.” He kissed her nose and took the plates from her to carry to the table.
“But this is getting out of hand. Messing with your tires was one thing. Causing a fall from a ladder, shooting at you—you could have lost an eye!”
“Or worse, I know.” Dean opened the bucket of chicken and inhaled. “I’m starved.”
“Dean,” Eve said with exasperation. “She’s your sister. You have to trust her.”
“No,” he said, glancing up at her. “I don’t.”
“Well, you should!”
“She thinks she’s in love with Roger.” He took silverware from a drawer and put it on the table. “She won’t be unbiased about any of this.”
It was nice, Eve thought, how Dean just automatically worked with her to do what needed to be done. He wouldn’t be a man content to sit in front of the television while others—especially a wife—worked around him.
And that was about the most dangerous thought she’d had yet.
“I know. She told me.” After getting two bottled drinks from the refrigerator, Eve sat at the table. “But Cam isn’t a woman who takes love lightly.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning she doesn’t just think it. She is in love with him.”
Dropping into his seat, Dean complained, “Here it comes.”
Eve frowned at his sarcasm, but she didn’t hold back. “I doubt Cam could love a man capable of what you’re suggesting.”