by Lori Foster
“Wise decisions,” Mary stressed. Her fingers were over the back of the chair, gripping so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “I don’t need you or anyone else to speak for me, or to protect me.”
Brodie acknowledged that with a frown. “True enough. But I won’t be a part of it. Hell, I wouldn’t put my dog in danger, so I damn straight wouldn’t put a woman—any woman—at risk.”
Mary gasped. “This is because I’m a woman?”
Squared off, they both ignored everyone else in the room. “In part, yes. Take it up with my mother if you don’t like me being protective.” Without taking his gaze from hers, he gestured to the side, vaguely in the direction of the others. “I’d feel the same about Vera or Jolene.”
Vera murmured, “Thank you.”
Jolene actually laughed.
Bristling, Mary stated, “You’re absurd.”
“Actually,” Brodie said, on a roll, “I’d feel the same about Therman, too.” He speared the older man with a glare.
“Me?” Sputtering, Therman bounced his gaze back and forth between them. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re smaller, older and in a wheelchair.” Brodie folded his arms. “You think I’d willingly walk you into danger? Well, I wouldn’t.”
“He wouldn’t ask you to,” Jolene said calmly, though she smiled. “And obviously he regrets putting you and Mary—and sweet Howler—into that position.” She shook out a napkin and placed it in her lap. “Now, both of you please sit down so we can talk in a civilized manner. There’s no reason for all the theatrics.”
Mary looked ready to implode. She’d just been chastened, and it was clear she blamed him.
Brodie didn’t give a shit. Did she really think he’d go through that twice? That he’d risk her twice?
Well, he wouldn’t.
Still standing, he waited for her to take her seat, which she finally did with a huff.
Then he lifted the bag. “Where should I put this?”
Jolene again raised her brows. “What is it?”
“Not worth human life, that’s what it is.”
Ready to level him, Mary opened her mouth, but Therman’s laughter stole her thunder.
“Therman,” Jolene said, half out of her chair in alarm.
He looked at Mary’s furious face, then at Brodie, and he literally guffawed.
“What?” Mary demanded.
Which only made Therman laugh harder. He hugged Howler and...howled. The dog loved it, his tail swinging in excitement.
Mary turned her confused gaze on Brodie.
Rolling his eyes, Brodie walked the prize over by a credenza and set it on the floor, out of the way. Over Therman’s continued hilarity, he said, “There’s some paperwork or photos or something in there.”
“A photo,” Mary bit out, “to authenticate it.”
“You didn’t look?” Burl asked.
Brodie shook his head. Honest to God, he didn’t care what was in there, only that Mary had been given the hazardous job of retrieving it.
When he returned to the table, Jolene was pressing wine into Therman’s hand and he’d just about gotten himself under control. He still chuckled, and twice he wiped his eyes, but after a few deep breaths, he merely grinned.
Jolene, Burl and Vera all smiled in contagious amusement.
But Mary...his sweet, warm Mary, now felt like the brunt of a joke. He’d probably just taken a gigantic step back.
Hopefully, when all was said and done, she’d forgive him.
* * *
“REALLY, THERMAN.” JOLENE shook her head. “If you don’t stop, Mary will be insulted.”
Therman smiled at her. “My apologies, Mary.”
“It’s all right.” She just wished she’d gotten the joke.
“That look you gave him...” His grin spread again, creasing his face in an unfamiliar way. “I’m betting Brodie doesn’t catch hell from the ladies very often.”
“You’d be wrong,” Brodie said. “Mary gives me hell all the time.”
While everyone else chuckled, Mary seriously considered stomping on his big foot. “Only when you deserve it.”
“No doubt.”
“I like that you’ll keep him in line.” Beneath his bushy brows, Therman’s eyes twinkled. “The two of you make an unbeatable combination for my acquisitions.”
Was that how he saw it? Incredible, because her perspective was very different.
Vera, who’d just finished passing around the last bowl of food, cleared her throat. “I hope all the excitement didn’t ruin any appetites. Burl worked really hard on this meal.”
Everyone watched Mary, making it clear that they wanted her to let it go, to accept Brodie’s edict and enjoy the meal.
She didn’t know if she could.
Indignation almost choked her. It seemed to be caught in her throat, making her eyes burn, urging her to expel it in an angry tirade.
The worst part was that her brain knew Brodie was right; it didn’t make sense to take chances like that.
But her heart didn’t care. Brodie had overstepped and he hadn’t even warned her of his plans. Not really. Oh, he’d hinted about talking with Therman, she’d never guessed that he’d steal part of her responsibilities.
Was that what came from sharing sex? People assumed they could do and say things without repercussions?
He kept looking at her, and it made her want to lash out.
Or flee.
She’d really love to leave the table, call a cab and return to her apartment where she could stew all alone.
She knew how to be alone, how to deal with it, but she didn’t have a clue how to deal with Brodie.
Dealing with him in front of everyone else? Impossible.
She’d lived through enough scenes in her lifetime that she couldn’t bear to deliberately cause one. Lifting her chin, she said to Burl, “I’d love a drink, please.”
Burl shot to his feet and readily filled her glass with red wine.
He turned to Brodie. “You’re sure you won’t have some?”
“Water is fine for me.”
Though her expression didn’t change, in her mind Mary mouthed sarcastically, Water is fine for me.
She wished she was the type who could use drink to help her stop caring. Damn it, did she care? She almost groaned...because yes, she knew she did.
Faults and all, Brodie was like a dream man, the mythical rugged, sexy guy, who sometimes made her bed—her life—feel less lonely.
Unfortunately, the wine wasn’t likely to help. Because she seldom drank, alcohol hit her quickly, usually making her chatty. Not a good thing in her present state.
God only knew what she might say.
Then again, whatever she said, Brodie would deserve it.
Defiantly, she sipped the wine and tried to get her emotions together.
As usual, Jolene stayed attentive to Therman, ensuring his comfort before her own. After Therman was served and had started to eat, Jolene said to Brodie, “I suppose this will be a business dinner after all. I’m a precise person. If things are to be altered, I’ll want them in writing.”
“Not a problem.” He put a bite of beef into his mouth and, in an attempt to normalize the conversation, said, “Damn, that’s good.”
Burl grinned as he sat again. “Thanks. It’s one of my specialties.”
“Because it’s my favorite,” Vera said.
Ugh. They were all trying to normalize things. She was the last holdout.
At first, Brodie had thought it odd that the housekeeper and cook joined them for meals, that they chimed in and acted like family. Now he accepted the arrangements the same as she did.
Close friendship surpassed their employment status.
Brodie had only met the groundskeeper once. H
e was quieter than the others, but of course he and Brodie had gotten along fine, so much so that by the end of the dinner they’d all been laughing. Same with the head of maintenance and the women who kept up with the indoor plants.
Everyone adored Brodie.
Mary stabbed her fork into a bite of her beef and tried not to glower at it. She wasn’t hungry.
She was too irate.
“So.” Therman slid his gaze over to her. “We’re all okay with Brodie’s brother mapping out the routes?”
It wasn’t a true question. After all, she didn’t get a legitimate vote. It was her responsibility to agree, nothing more.
Unlike the others, she’d deliberately remained a mere employee. Getting close to someone meant letting them in, and Brodie was the first, the only, person to manage it.
Did she now have regrets? No, not really. She might be annoyed with him at the moment, but she still had those very special memories...
“Mary?” Jolene prompted.
Rather than have it dictated to her, Mary took smug satisfaction in stating, “Why not? He’s a man after all.” There, she’d accepted semigracefully and scored a point.
There seemed to be a collective holding of breath.
Mary put down her fork and lifted her wineglass. Sparring, she realized, took nerves of steel, especially when sparring with a big hunk of man who’d given her multiple orgasms.
It was the orgasm part that made it so awkward. She wanted more of them.
Calmly, Brodie cut his food, his gaze on his plate. “What’s important, at least to me, is that Jack has more interest in my well-being than he does in Therman’s collections.”
All eyes landed on her, awaiting her reaction.
Oh, that stung. Was that what Brodie thought? That she didn’t care if he got hurt? Of course she did. When those shots had echoed around the area, when she’d thought he might be wounded, even killed... She shuddered.
Just remembering the god-awful fear she’d felt—for him—made her heart beat harder.
Slowly pivoting, she glared. “You know I was concerned.”
“Concerned,” he repeated thoughtfully, making it sound so bland. “Guess I was a little bit more than concerned with both of us staying alive.”
He had a point...but damn him, she didn’t want to see his side of things. He could have handled the confrontation better. He could have confided his plans—and given her a chance to talk him out of it.
Though she felt childish, she couldn’t hold back the words, or the baiting smile. “Maybe Jack should ride with you from now on?”
Brodie’s gaze shot up to lock on her face. Frowning, he opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His frown darkened even more.
Perfect. She’d left him speechless.
“No.” Therman thumped a hand on the tabletop, no longer so amused. “That’s always going to be your job, Mary.”
Always? He sounded so sincere that it almost felt like job security.
“You know how I trust you, how I rely on you.” One eye squinted as he surveyed her. “I might’ve researched Jack, but I don’t really know him. Not like I know you.”
He didn’t really know her, either, not her hang-ups or the fears carved from her past. Only Brodie knew.
Had she really shared so much with him, so quickly, all because of sexual compatibility? No, to be honest, it was more than that. Something about Brodie drew her in.
Dangerous.
Therman had tried to get closer, too, and everyone in the household worked to include her. It was often disconcerting. “Thank you.” Feeling like a fraud, she drank more wine.
“I meant what I said.” Therman propped a forearm on the table and tilted toward her. “Brodie’s a terrific driver, gutsy, capable and best of all, willing to speak up.”
Therman appreciated Brodie’s boldness? She could barely credit it. He’d fired other drivers for less!
“But it only works if you’re with him.”
For a heartbeat she thought Therman meant with him, as in a couple, as in two people who’d burned up the sheets on a lumpy bed in a cheap hotel room, and she damn near panicked.
Then she realized that Therman might have taken her suggestion for Jack to ride shotgun as a threat that she’d quit.
Ha! Not likely. She enjoyed her job, relied on it too much to let Brodie chase her off.
As Therman waited, she started to give her automatic reply, whatever you want, but quickly rethought that. Even she had her limits and Therman really had pushed them too far yesterday.
She finished off her wine and said, “I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”
“I’ll give you a raise.”
Shocked, Mary blinked. “A raise?” He already paid her well. So well, in fact, that during the three years she’d been with him, she’d never asked for more money.
“Both of you,” Therman added, addressing Brodie now. “You’ve earned it.”
Brodie lifted his water glass in a salute. “As long as the raise isn’t to get me to accept more risk, I won’t argue.”
“It’s not.” Therman glared at him for the suggestion, then turned imploring eyes on Mary. “You’re a balanced combo and I couldn’t be happier. But understand, no matter who drives, I need you.”
To most, his statement would seem very touching and sincere.
Mary knew better.
Therman was a master at getting what he wanted, and for whatever reason, he wanted her riding shotgun with Brodie. Maybe he thought she could temper Brodie’s rowdier tendencies, somehow keep him in line. What a laugh. He’d just proved that she had very little sway in anything he said or did.
She’d slept with the man and he’d still stepped over her request to let her handle Therman.
Since no one else needed to know how hurt she felt by that betrayal, she said with nonchalance, “Then of course I’ll remain with you.”
Beside her, Brodie shifted. Oh, he probably had all kinds of things to say, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking.
The creases in Therman’s brow relaxed as he smiled. “Thank you, Mary. I can always count on you.” After a grateful squeeze to her hand, he withdrew...and slipped a bite of meat to Howler.
Until then, Mary hadn’t noticed that he’d been feeding the dog. How she’d missed it, she didn’t know. Howler put on a shameless display of begging, even placing one massive paw on Therman’s thigh.
Apparently, she’d been too wrapped up in her own musings.
“You’re going to spoil him,” Brodie said, sounding unconcerned by the possibility.
“He deserves it,” Therman countered, while he refilled her glass without saying a word. He set the bottle aside and asked Brodie, “Why don’t you tell the others how you got him?”
Brodie gave her an unreadable look before answering. “He was chained up outside, obviously neglected, so I adopted him.”
“Ehhh,” Therman groused, shaking a fork at him. “You’re not telling the whole story. Share the details.”
“That’s the gist of it.”
Mary could see that Brodie didn’t want to talk about it—not that his wants would stop Therman from insisting.
She recalled something Charlotte had said about Brodie rescuing women, men and dogs, and that made her a little curious, too.
“Why be modest now?” she asked with sugary snark.
Brodie snorted. “You should know I am never modest.”
No, he wasn’t. He’d paraded around naked in front of her without any embarrassment. She blushed just thinking of it, and remembering how good he’d looked.
She wanted to look again. Even being annoyed with him couldn’t keep her from picturing his body in her mind. She had a feeling that image would be emblazoned there for the rest of all time.
“What do you have to hide?” The
article she’d read had been necessarily brief, but they’d mentioned that Brodie had interrupted a drug deal, and that he’d taken on multiple people. “Is there more to the story than what the papers printed?”
“Always,” he said, as if she should have known that. “A condensed, two-paragraph piece didn’t even come close to what happened that day.”
“Exactly.” Therman pushed back his empty plate. “Give us a blow-by-blow.”
“I’m sure Mary can find the article online for you.”
Therman’s expression drew tight. “I want to hear it from you.”
“You don’t get everything you want.” Brodie ate his last bite.
So he could not only make demands and then defy Therman, he could do it while cleaning his plate.
She looked at her own food, barely touched, and wished she had his élan.
“Having money,” Therman informed him, “means having lots of resources. You can try to shut me down, but I have ways of finding out anything I want, about anyone I want.”
Jolene quickly shushed him, but it was too late.
Everyone looked at her.
Oh, they quickly averted their gazes, but Mary had already gotten the message and it sent alarm down her spine.
Checking into previous employment was one thing; she’d expected that when she’d applied for the job. But did they all know about her past? About her mother?
Humiliation squeezed her heart.
Breathing too fast, she lifted her glass and sipped. Or gulped. She wasn’t sure which.
God, she felt exposed.
This was why she’d hadn’t gotten cozier with them.
This was why she needed her emotional distance.
She didn’t know what to do, but escaping seemed the best option.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WITHOUT BEING SURE what she would do, Mary pushed back her chair...
And suddenly Brodie leaned forward, elbows on the table as he drew everyone’s attention. “I’m calling BS.”
Therman drew himself up. “What are you talking about?”
“You think you can buy the truth?” Brodie spread his hands, taunting. “Let’s hear it, Therman. What did you find out with your advanced sleuthing ability? I’m betting it wasn’t much.”