Delivered with a Kiss: Veteran Movers 4

by Marie Harte

  He wrestled with an idea, driven by the need to help her. And not just because she was a pretty young thing who looked vulnerable. Hell, she didn’t just look it. She was vulnerable. All alone in a new city? Christ, had she said she was from Kansas? “Wait here.” He walked away, taking his phone out. He made the call and had to promise to throw in changing the oil on Tilly’s car. But…just maybe…he had a solution for the poor woman.

  Smith returned to see a bunch of crumpled tissues on her lap. Then he remembered how much he hated people, didn’t trust women, and how much nonsense he had coming his way on account of his recently acknowledged siblings.

  He hesitated, not sure he should offer Erin anything but a compassionate “you’re better off without him” and a good-luck handshake.

  “I’m so sorry for all this,” she apologized, her cheeks flushed. “None of this is your fault, and you had to watch me make a fool of myself. I know you have a schedule to keep and a job to do, and I’m in the way.” She let out a sad sigh. “Boy, did I mess up royally.”

  “No shit, attaching yourself to that loser,” he muttered then froze, not having intended to say that out loud.

  Her lips parted, and he had the insane notion he’d never seen a more perfect mouth in his life. “I…oh.” Her slow smile told him he hadn’t hurt her feelings. “Cody is a loser, isn’t he?”

  “Totally.” He ignored the odd racing of his heart.

  She blew her nose again. Her mascara had run, her eyes looked puffy, her nose red, and wisps of her hair now framed her face in a frizzy kind of halo. She might be cute, but she was an ugly crier. So why did he find that even more attractive? Man, he was an imbecile for sure.

  Smith shrugged, ignoring his weird, inappropriate feelings. “So what now? Do you have someplace you want me to take your things? Any friends in town? Relatives?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I’m all alone out here. I thought Cody and I would make friends together. That he’d be my f-family.” She cleared her throat, took a deep breath and let it out. Her tone evened. “But I guess that’s over. I’ll have to max a few credit cards and put my things back in storage before I can make enough to ship everything back home.”

  “Or you could move into a rental that’s recently become available.”

  * * *

  Erin stared at the scowling giant, not sure she’d heard him correctly. “Huh?”

  He flushed, but the scowl didn’t disappear. For the entire time she’d known him, roughly forty minutes, he’d done nothing but frown, glare, or look expressionless. Exceedingly handsome under the bluster, her tall, dark, and sexy moving man was seriously built.

  He stood a solid head and a half taller than her own tiny stature. He had a rough edge of handsome going on, that short dark hair contrasting with his jade green eyes. A tan skin tone told her he spent time outdoors, as did the rough hands that had held her close to that warm body. Smith Ramsey was tall and muscled. Solid. And a lot menacing, if she told herself the truth.

  That glare he wore would have scared her if she hadn’t witnessed how gentle he’d been moments ago. How he’d taken care to make her more comfortable and tried to bolster her spirits. The poor guy likely wanted nothing more than to put this entire experience in his rearview mirror.

  She sure the heck wanted to.

  “I said there’s a rental that recently became available. I know because it’s in my building—Emerald Estates.” His scowl seemed to deepen, were that possible. “I’m serious. It’s a decent enough place. Not super fancy, and the unit is an efficiency. It’s a steal, but it comes with conditions.”

  Here it comes. She might be a little naïve when it came to living independently. But she’d had to deal with unscrupulous men before. Not counting Cody. She sniffed to hold back more hurt, angry tears.

  Disappointment rose, that this stranger might try to take advantage of her, especially having seen her boyfriend dump her. Could her day get any worse?

  “The only reason I get a cheap rent is because I do all the handyman stuff in the building,” Smith said. “The landlord is a pain in the ass old lady who likes bossing people around. But she’s more than fair. I fix everything that needs fixing, she cuts my rent in half. We just had one of the tenants move away to be with family. Mrs. Fine was ninety-four and left because she needed live-in care. So, it’s my job to clean out her unit. If you wanted, you could have it, but you’d have to clean it up first.”

  Erin blinked. “Really?” This was the answer to her current dilemma. “What kind of rent are we talking?”

  “I think Mrs. Fine paid near to what I did. She didn’t have much money. You need to talk the rent over with Tilly. Like I said, it’s an efficiency.”

  It wasn’t as if Erin had much to move, and she didn’t plan on staying in the city, she didn’t think. Just long enough to make enough money to leave again with her feet under her. “Where is it? Is it in a safe neighborhood?”

  “Surprisingly, yes. It’s in Greenwood. And to be honest, you can’t touch a place in Greenwood for even half that kind of rent. Not unless you know somebody.”

  “It seems too good to be true.” She looked at Smith, feeling hope for the first time since arriving at this mess in her life.

  “Well, it is.” He rubbed the back of his head. “There’s always a catch. Tilly—the landlady—she’s a ball buster. And she needs help. Her cook just quit. So, if you want the place, you have to clean it out first. And you have to work for free as Tilly’s cook and housekeeper.”

  To offset the rent, that seemed more than fair. “But what if I can’t cook?”

  “I’d suggest learning fast if you want the place.” He paused. “I like the old lady, but she’s gone through a lot of helpers in the past six months. She’s hard to get along with, I won’t lie.”

  “But you work for her.”

  “I like my place, and I’ve dealt with a hell of a lot worse.” He frowned. “But she might be too much to handle. You seem kind of nice.”

  “I am. Too nice.” She shook her head. “But I need a place to live. Do you think she’ll want a deposit up front? I can’t afford that right now.”

  Smith shrugged. “No idea. But she can tell you what she wants. If you’re interested, we’ll drive over right now and see what’s what. I’ve got your things, and you have nothing to lose. You in or out?”

  She glanced at Cody’s home—it was not now and never would be hers—and turned back to Smith. “Let’s go.”

  She wouldn’t look back. No matter how much it hurt.

  Chapter Two

  Smith sat on an ugly couch in the living room of his oldest brother’s house and did his best to pretend it wasn’t crushing him second by second to be anywhere near reminders of the woman who’d given birth to him. Angela Griffith had died a few months ago and left her house to Cash, not Reid. A situation that nagged him with curiosity, but one that he had no right to ask about unless he wanted to open up to the two of them.

  The discomfort of grief he had no business feeling weighed heavily, so he did his best to focus on anything else. And the one subject that continued to come back to him made him hide a small smile.

  Erin Briggs.

  He’d introduced her to Tilly yesterday. The old lady had told him to wait outside her apartment and slammed her door in his face. Twenty long minutes later, Erin had stepped out of Tilly’s apartment looking shell-shocked. But she’d accepted Tilly’s terms and asked him to move her things into Mrs. Fine’s living room. He’d left it stacked with boxes and a few dressers, sparingly little to fill up the place.

  Overwhelmed and annoyed with Erin’s effusive gratitude, he’d hustled away before she teared up again or worse, made him want to offer comfort, which still baffled him. Smith didn’t take to strangers and generally didn’t like people. What the hell had he been thinking to help Erin into anything but a plane trip back to Kansas?

  He burned to know what Tilly had said to convince Erin to stay and planned to take it up with the cr
ank pot later, when he wasn’t so glutted with “family.”

  “So, you’re more quiet and morose than usual.” Jordan Fleming, Cash’s girlfriend and Smith’s coworker, plunked down in the chair near him and guzzled from her beer bottle.

  Smith liked her. Jordan was real. An ex-Army MP who didn’t tolerate anyone’s shit, she’d taken him down once for talking smack. He respected her for it. At one time he’d considered asking her out. She was cute in a rough-and-tumble kind of way. But even then he’d seen something sparking between her and Cash. Though it would have amused him to fuck with the guy, he didn’t want to hurt Jordan.

  He snorted. “Do you get bonus points for using a word like ‘morose’? I didn’t think you Army types knew how to read.”

  She smiled through her teeth at him. He bit back a grin; it wouldn’t help his cred to look amused or happy being anywhere near his brothers and their girlfriends.

  “You’re really giving me crap about being stupid? You’re a Marine. I thought you guys walked around grunting and dragging your knuckles on the ground.”

  He glanced up as Cash entered the room. “Well, some of us fit that stereotype, sure.”

  Cash grunted.

  “See?”

  Jordan coughed. “Um, well, ah, what’s up, Cash?”

  He glared at Smith, who glared right back, before answering, “Something’s beeping in there, and you told me to keep my hands off your food.”

  “I didn’t hear anything.”

  “Well, maybe because I accidentally knocked the timer into the sink.”

  She frowned then jumped up from the chair. “Oh, the chicken.” She rushed past him, shoving Cash in Smith’s direction on the way. “Be nice,” she growled and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Smith just sat, staring at his brother.

  His brother.

  He’d grown up thinking he was an only child, the product of a questionable accidental pregnancy, according to his ex-mom, Margaret Ramsey. Good old Meg had never liked him, and up until eight months ago, he’d never understood why. A petite blond with ice blue eyes, she didn’t look much like Smith. Brittle and angry all the time, she loved nothing more than to tell him he’d never measure up. Never be as good as his amazing, successful, hard-working cousins.

  No matter how hard he worked or how he tried to make her love him, he failed. With his father supposedly dead, he’d had no one but his mother in his life. And yeah, he did blame her for his fucked up inability to make friends.

  Then to learn she wasn’t his biological mother? That his “real mother” had raised his perfect brothers—not cousins—the good sons she’d loved and adored? The ones she’d kept?

  Was it any wonder he’d hated Cash and Reid on sight?

  “It’s so weird how much we look alike,” Cash muttered and took a seat farther from Smith than the one Jordan had occupied.

  “Yeah, I don’t like it either.” Smith and Cash might as well have been imprinted from the same genetic cookie cutter. Same dark hair, same green eyes, similar facial features and brawn. “But I’m taller than you.”

  “You are not.” Cash frowned. “I’m six-four.”

  “I’m six-five.” Smith smirked.

  Cash’s frown grew darker. “I can bench more than you.”

  “Yeah?” The need to prove himself returned full force, a lifetime habit of always having to be the best and never managing it thanks to the Griffith brothers. “Let’s see.”

  “I don’t have any weights here.” Cash took a swig of his beer then lit up with pleasure. “But I bet I can out-arm wrestle you.”

  “Bring it.”

  They cleared the coffee table and knelt over it, facing each other. Smith didn’t want to but gripped his brother’s hand as he rested his elbow on the table.

  God, even their hands were about the same size.

  Cash didn’t seem so pleased by the contact, which made him feel a little better.

  The big douche looked him in the eye. “When I say go.”

  “Hey, watch your elbow. No cheating.”

  “Fuck you. I don’t need to cheat to win.”

  Smith raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and Cash swore at him some more before counting down. “In three, two, one…”

  They had four matches, all of which proved difficult to win. Smith was sweating when someone entered the room, but focused on the battle, he spared them no attention.

  With the matches evenly won, two for Smith and two for Cash, this one would decide the ultimate victor.

  “Oh my God. Are you two serious?” Reid asked as he stepped forward. Next to him, Naomi, his girlfriend, whistled.

  “Wow. Two sexy, muscled men battling it out. Reid, you didn’t say we’d have live entertainment.”

  Smith strained, annoyed Cash seemed to be as strong as he was. Reid’s arrival in no way hampered their bout. Both men continued to press for the win.

  “I will end you,” Cash warned. “I am the ultimate champion.”

  “You sound like a bad movie,” Smith growled.

  Cash, the bastard, laughed. “Been watching Gladiator and 300 with Jordan. She has a thing for sweaty men who kill each other.”

  “Cash Griffith,” Jordan barked. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Cash winced, and his moment of inattention was all Smith needed. Smith used extra effort and pushed. Hard. Cash went down.

  The room grew silent.

  Cash stood and glared down at Smith. “You cheated.”

  “What?” Smith stood as well and took a healthy drink from his bottle. “Not my fault you couldn’t keep up.” Man, the guy had power behind all those muscles. Smith wanted to flex his cramping hand but didn’t want to show any sign of weakness.

  “Bull. You—”

  Jordan said his name again, and Cash stilled.

  Smith watched with appreciation. Jordan had the guy on a tight leash. He liked it. He smirked at her. “Does he sit on command too?”

  The old Cash would have lunged for him, but this Cash smiled through his teeth. “I do whatever she wants. And if, by the grace of God, she asks me to rip off your head, I’ll do it with pleasure.”

  Reid chuckled. “That’s some kind of power you have, Jordan.”

  “And some kind of ability with food.” Naomi took an appreciative whiff. “What is that wonderful dish I smell?”

  Jordan smiled. “Garlic chicken. I have mashed potatoes and carrot souffle too.”

  Naomi sighed. “I’m starved, and that sounds fantastic.”

  Smith watched her, keeping his distance. Unlike Jordan, whom he understood, Reid’s girlfriend remained a puzzle. Naomi Starr had looks, class, and a brain. She seemed kind of distant, as if too pretty and better than everyone else. She fit Reid in that way.

  Reid had an elegance about him. The guy was upper management all the way. Sophisticated and brainy, he wore khakis and button-down shirts all the time and looked right at home in them. While Cash and Smith did manual labor and liked it, Reid seemed to prefer sitting behind a desk.

  The Griffith brothers shared the same dark hair and height, but Reid had gray eyes and a more streamlined build. Not so broad in the chest or packed with muscle. And of the two of them, Reid was by far the more laid back, easier to get along with.

  Yet Reid and Cash had grown up together, tight brothers who loved and respected each other.

  Something Smith had never, and would never, have.

  “Oh, and I brought dessert,” Naomi claimed and held out a covered pan to Jordan. “Chocolate cake.”

  “Yum.”

  “I hate chocolate.” Smith’s confession had everyone turning to him. Probably shouldn’t have mentioned that out loud. Yet everyone acting all schmoozy and as if his being present didn’t bother them annoyed the shit out of him.

  “That’s not humanly possible.” Naomi looked dumbfounded. “It’s chocolate.”

  Reid gave him a look and said to Naomi, “Everyone has their own taste, honey. But I’m sure he’ll try a pie
ce just to be polite.”

  The subtle warning made an impact, and Smith flushed, feeling like a bratty kid told to behave.

  Smith shot Reid a look. “I’ll shove a piece of your—” ass through the wall, you dick, went unsaid as Evan’s timely interruption saved the gathering.

  “Hey, we’re here. Sorry we’re late.” Evan and Kenzie breezed into the living room with wide smiles. “We had to drop Daniel off at a friend’s and got caught in traffic.”

  Smith liked Daniel, Kenzie’s younger brother. The kid was scary smart, obnoxious, and funny. They’d met back when Evan had started dating Kenzie, because Evan had been working alongside Smith and the others while Cash healed from a broken arm.

  Hmm. Should have arm-wrestled the other arm. He glanced at Cash’s weak hand and saw Cash staring at him.

  “Bring it,” Cash mouthed.

  “Anytime,” Smith mouthed back and grinned. Cash grinned with him, and at that moment something clicked. A feeling of camaraderie. Smith immediately backed away from it and scowled at the guy.

  Kenzie stepped into his line of sight, smiling and exchanging hugs with everyone while Evan greeted the gang. Smith had a soft spot for Evan. Technically, they weren’t related by blood. Evan’s dad and Reid’s dad were brothers. Yet Evan was the cousin everyone liked and wanted around. He did Vets on the Go!’s financials, was a CPA, and filled in when anyone needed a hand. It was tough not to like the guy. He seemed to charm everyone, including Smith.

  To the extent Smith had been bamboozled into calling Evan’s mom Aunt Jane and sharing a dinner with Evan’s family. The experience had been eye-opening, because even knowing who Smith really was, everyone had been accepting and fun to be around. Kenzie and Daniel in particular had talked to him, while Aunt Jane mothered him with Evan watching on in kind amusement.

  So strange that they’d taken to him and that he’d…liked it.