Driven to Distraction

by Lori Foster

  She sensed Brodie watching her, but she didn’t meet his gaze. It was far too easy to let him distract her.

  “I called Mr. Ritter before coming here, and he was dismayed, but also suspicious of one particular person. As Brodie told you, we had some recent trouble caused by this person. Mr. Ritter and I sincerely hope that his competition with this other person hasn’t spilled over to affecting your business.”

  Ros touched her arm. “Oh, honey. This isn’t your fault. Bad people do bad things. It’s just a fact of life.”

  Mary hadn’t specifically been taking the blame, but she did feel responsible by association. “Thank you.” She’d only met Ros a few hours ago, but thanks to Brodie, she knew her all the same and hadn’t expected a different reaction. “Still, for this to happen now—”

  Jack shrugged. “Though it seems unlikely, it could be unrelated. There’s no shortage of knuckleheaded kids looking to vandalize a property.”

  “Could be,” Brodie agreed. “But I’m not taking that chance.”

  Neither would Mary. Whatever Brodie planned, she’d back him—as long as he included her. “What are we going to do?”

  His brows lifted at the we, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Install better locks, an alarm system and a camera.”

  So, nothing too drastic. She nodded. “I’m sorry it’s come to that, but yes, the added security is a good idea.”

  “We probably should have had those things already.” Brodie rubbed the back of his neck, making his biceps flex and bulge.

  Which, apparently, only she noticed.

  “The company’s expanded a lot, most especially with Therman’s business.”

  Charlotte propped a hip on the table and crossed her arms. “We’ve been running it like a small-time, hometown gig, but since your boss hired Brodie, we’ve gotten three other big contracts.” She nodded at Jack. “He starts soon on a long-term gig.”

  “Looking forward to it,” Jack said.

  “I didn’t realize.” Mary wasn’t surprised, though. Many people watched Therman and were swayed by his decisions, taking them as recommendations and endorsements. “The success is well deserved.”

  Still tense, Brodie looked down at the dog. “I used to let him have the run of the place. He knows his boundaries and never goes far. But I can’t do that anymore. Last night he saw or heard something. I’m sure of it now. If I hadn’t been thinking of other things, I’d have realized something was wrong.”

  All eyes landed on Mary.

  She didn’t mind. She’d drawn attention most of her life—the worst kind of negative or pitying attention. This, at least, was merely speculative, or in Jack’s case, amused.

  “I figured it was a scavenging raccoon or other critter, but Howler doesn’t react that strongly to other animals.” Brodie’s jaw firmed. “I should have checked it out more.”

  Mary was grateful he hadn’t. If he’d walked in on intruders, then what?

  Charlotte ducked down to give the dog a kiss on his forehead. “He’s a good boy. Aren’t you, baby?”

  The dog didn’t open his eyes, but his tail gave the floor two hard thumps.

  Fresh determination assaulted Mary. “If you’re right, I’m glad you didn’t let him loose.” Howler was a big dog with a ferocious growl when agitated. The image of him on the attack at that little cabin in the woods flashed through her mind. When mad, Howler meant business.

  Anyone would see him as a threat, and react accordingly.

  Everyone loved the dog, Mary included. But Brodie had a very special bond with him. She couldn’t bear the thought of either of them being hurt.

  Right in front of everyone, Brodie reached out to cup her cheek. “Starting today, we all need to be more careful.”

  Was he emphasizing that to her? Hard to tell when his touch disrupted her thinking.

  His family didn’t seem to think anything of it, making her wonder if he was always this demonstrative with women in front of them.

  If so, it probably didn’t mean anything and that was why they barely noticed. To her, a gentle touch, especially when surrounded by his family, was still a big deal.

  As if he sensed her confusion, Brodie moved to stand at her side, his biceps to her shoulder, his heat and strength enveloping her.

  It was such a caring thing to do, that she couldn’t help but be impressed with his awareness. Then again, everything he did impressed her. The way he smiled, his physical capability, the love he extended not only to his family but also his dog...

  He was dangerously attractive, ruining her efforts to concentrate on business.

  “We’ll double up on security,” Brodie continued. “Not only here, but also at home.”

  Focusing on those large stacks of folders, Mary asked, “Have you found anything missing?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “Not so far. Nothing important anyway.”

  Mary put a hand on Brodie’s arm. He wasn’t going to like this. “What if the intruder only wanted information?”

  “Personal information,” Brodie said, as if he’d already had the thought.

  Jack scowled. “All of our addresses are on one file or another. Phone numbers, too.”

  “Purchases,” Charlotte said, lifting a receipt for fast food and another for supplies. “Anyone snooping would now know who we are, where we go and where to find us.”

  “True.” Brodie showed his teeth in a feral grin. “But the bastard should also know that I live very close by, and I’ll be keeping watch.”

  Dear God. Mary’s heart plummeted. “You’re at risk.”

  “Wrong.” Clenching his hands, Brodie said, “He’s at risk if he thinks he can—”

  She grabbed his arm to turn him toward him. It was like grabbing a tree trunk; he didn’t budge. “Brodie Archer Crews. What in the world are you saying?”

  “Hey,” he protested over the use of his name.

  Ros laughed.

  “Don’t hey me. You can’t mean to challenge someone ballsy enough to break in and ransack the place. That’s nuts! You don’t even know what type of person you’re dealing with.”

  With a touch to the bruised injury on his forehead, he said, “I have a good guess.”

  Mary scowled and jerked up her chin. “No.”

  Brows up, Brodie leaned back. “No what?”

  “No, I don’t want you being...” Reckless. Brave. Too protective. “Ridiculous.” It was awful, all of it, especially the looming menace. She felt it, growing closer, darker.

  Yet none of the others seemed nearly as concerned. They took their happiness for granted. They didn’t realize just how fragile it could be. But Mary knew.

  Because she’d always lived without it.

  “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

  He shrugged. “I’m never stupid, so sure.”

  “That’s the weakest promise I’ve ever heard!”

  “I agree with Mary,” Ros announced. She hooked one arm with Jack, the other with Charlotte. “I’m not willing to risk any of you.”

  “I said I’d take care of it.” Brodie gave her one last scowl then headed up the hall to Jack’s office. “It’ll be done within a day.”

  “Way to give him hell,” Jack said with a grin.

  “She worried and you razz her?” Charlotte rolled her eyes, then plopped a big load of folders into his arms. “Come on. You can help me put these away.”

  Still bristling, Mary watched them go. Now that only Ros remained, she had enough room to pace.

  “I like how you did that,” Ros said with barely suppressed humor. “Using his name like that.” She nodded. “Good touch. I’ve always found it added something special.”

  Mary pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t exactly mean to give him hell.” This relationship was complicated.

  “It’s
good for him, especially when he’s acting like King Kong. It’s not what he’s used to from women, so...go you!”

  Surprised, Mary looked at her. “Go me?”

  “I’m on your side.” Ros let out a breath. “Just don’t look so worried, okay? The boys have it covered.”

  That earned a reluctant grin. Only a mother would call those two boys.

  “Better,” Ros said as she gave Mary’s shoulder a squeeze.

  “You’re too pretty to frown.”

  The compliment made her choke on a laugh. She knew she was an utter mess whether Brodie’s mother would admit it or not. “And you’re too nice.”

  “I’m honest. Now.” She gestured for the hallway. “Let’s see what we can do to help out.”

  Even as Mary left the room ahead of Ros, her thoughts churned. How could these people possibly like her? She, with her insistence to trust Therman, had brought this on them.

  In her defense, the job had never been like this before.

  So why now?

  A part of her insisted she shouldn’t get too clingy with Brodie’s family, but another part, stronger and more determined, wanted to hold on tight.

  That part was winning.

  She wouldn’t let any of them be harmed, not if she could help it. But to protect them, she needed to get more info from Therman.

  Not for a second did she believe it had anything to do with a dusty old Oscar. This was something more than a competitor’s rivalry. This was serious.

  And so was her growing attraction to Brodie.

  Whatever they had might not last, but it wouldn’t be because of her.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  HELTON WASN’T THE impetuous sort, but once he got the report from Lem and Todd, he couldn’t make himself stay away.

  The small hick town of Red Oak, Ohio, looked nothing like the urban area where he’d grown up, but it wasn’t far from where he ran the business he’d inherited.

  Close enough to indulge a whim.

  He’d first located the Mustang Transport offices. They were off the beaten path, situated on several acres with a track around the area. He couldn’t get too close without drawing attention, and he didn’t want that.

  He needed to conduct his business without anyone knowing his identity.

  It fascinated him, this little family-run organization with all the various characters. Yes, he knew them now, each of them. Names and numbers led to easy research. It hadn’t taken more than a few hours to learn everything about them, but they’d been an entertaining few hours, for sure.

  Brodie Crews was a brute. Not as much of a brute as Helton, but then few were. Given a chance, Helton wouldn’t mind seeing how they matched fists. It wasn’t often he respected another man’s ability.

  With ridiculous ease, he’d discovered quite a bit about Brodie.

  For one thing, he liked people and they liked him back. Early in his research, it became quickly obvious to Helton that Brodie didn’t associate much with social media, but that didn’t keep others from tagging him, mentioning him.

  Bitching about him.

  He was one of those guys who stuck up for the underdog, even when the prick didn’t deserve it. He was also the type who pissed off sexy little blonde bombshells who in turn blasted private information all over Facebook and Twitter.

  Brodie was banging Mary.

  It surprised Helton. He’d been aware of her since Therman hired her; even before inheriting from his dad, he’d made it a practice to collect information on people. But in all that time, he’d never known of Mary getting involved, definitely not with another employee.

  Helton wondered if Therman knew, and if he did, would he care? It was dangerous to let lackeys get personally involved. Their loyalty shifted, and Helton wouldn’t tolerate that.

  But Therman? Who knew.

  Brodie’s brother, Jack, was slicker than Brodie. Helton shook his head. No, slick wasn’t the right word.

  More refined. Yeah, that worked.

  And the little lady... Helton taxed his brain before he remembered. Charlotte. The photos Lem had taken of her dainty, slanted handwriting made him think of flowers, the thorny kind. She was cute but serious. Maybe too serious.

  And then there was the matriarch. Sexy broad in her midfifties. Casual, stacked, happy, and he had to assume she had guts to have raised her sons alone. If Helton had a type, she’d be it.

  But today, he had the bombshell on his mind.

  Thanks to her detailed postings, he knew she’d closed out the bar at two thirty, then drank with friends a few hours more before crashing at a diner next door.

  The friends had eventually gone home, but he didn’t think she had.

  Helton located Freddie’s easily enough. It was a high point of the town with its colorful signs and gravel parking lot. With his background he could practically sniff out the bars, not that he needed to with Freddie’s on the main drag and the town so tight.

  Right next to it was the little diner from where she’d last posted.

  A bell chimed as Helton opened the door and stepped inside. The air was cool and quiet with only the sounds of prep from the kitchen and the muted voices of two customers.

  There, in the back corner, was the little lady.

  A night of anger-induced drinking had taken its toll. Half slid down in a booth, her head back and her mouth partially opened, she looked more like a crack whore than the beauty from her Facebook profile pic.

  Catching the eye of the waitress, he nodded toward the blonde’s table. “Two coffees.”

  She followed his gaze and nodded.

  With a touch of pity, Helton approached the booth. Maybe because his father had used up so many women, Helton had a soft spot for them, all of them, but especially confused little girls like this one. Wouldn’t keep him from doing what needed to be done, but with any luck, it’d teach her a lesson or two.

  When Helton slid into the seat opposite her, she stirred, opening bloodshot eyes and getting herself more or less upright. “Who are you?”

  It sounded like “Who’r’ooh?” which told him she hadn’t yet slept it off. Too bad. For her.

  “A friend,” he lied. He didn’t have friends. Didn’t want them, didn’t need them.

  As if holding a bowling ball, she cradled her head. “Get lost, grandpa.”

  The words were so slurred, he barely caught the insult. It amused him. Even under the effects of alcohol, she had grit. “Afraid I can’t. See, you just won the lottery.”

  Her red-rimmed eyes rounded. “I did?”

  The coffee arrived and Helton pushed one cup toward her. “Drink up and I’ll explain.”

  Defiance pursed her mouth, but she didn’t have it in her to argue. She dumped three packets of sugar into the coffee, then three little plastic tubs of creamer before sipping. “Mmm.”

  “Coffee helps everything,” Helton agreed, drinking his own black. He never understood why people fucked up coffee so badly. With that much sugar, she might as well pour it over pancakes.

  “So what’d I win?”

  “You have to be sober before I can tell you.”

  “M’sober.” She weaved in her seat, then stilled by gripping the edge of the table.

  He almost laughed. “Two cups of coffee first, okay? I’ll explain everything to you after that.”

  Bleary eyes met his. “You sure yer not jus’ hittin’ on me?”

  “You’re not my type.” Too young, too silly and far too slender.

  Now, Rosalyn Crews, that was a woman he could strap on for a night. Good decision or not, if he ever got the chance, he might have to take it and damn the consequences.

  But until then, he had to put the screws to her son, so he could put the screws to Therman.

  And little Blondie was just the tool he needed to make it happen.
/>   * * *

  AS HE CLEANED the mirrors on his car, Brodie told himself not to chase Mary. He’d never chased a woman in his life and he didn’t want to start now.

  Except that Mary was different.

  Everything about her.

  Everything about the way she affected him.

  She tempted him to do things he’d never done...because she made him feel things he’d never felt.

  Damn Therman, if only he’d call for a job, Brodie would have the excuse he needed to see her without actually pressuring her about it. Mary would never neglect the job.

  But Therman didn’t call, and now it had been three days since the break-in, three days since Mary’s plan to keep their relationship private had gone all wrong—at least from her perspective.

  Three hellishly long days since she’d helped put the office back together before telling him she had to go. There in front of his family, she’d given him a perfunctory farewell—like they were pals or something.

  He knew they were more, a lot more, but did she? According to Charlotte, Mary was in denial about it. Hell, from everything he knew about her now, she’d never experienced a real relationship. Not the important kind.

  Business crap she had down pat.

  But honest caring? Not so much. It was like being with an emotional virgin. Everything was new and different for her. Her reactions were priceless, and sometimes heartbreaking.

  He needed to take things slow and easy so he didn’t overwhelm her. Slow and easy, though... It didn’t come naturally to him. He was a doer. Jump in and get it done.

  Well, except with sex. He could take all night enjoying her and not be anywhere near done.

  And thinking about that made him want her even more.

  “Damn.” Muttering to himself, he strode to the other side of his car, admiring it, using the edge of his shirt to polish off a smudge of dust. Red was the perfect color. She looked great.

  Howler, maybe sensing his frustration, looked up from his sunny repose a few feet away. His loose jowls overlapped his front paws, where he rested his head. He gave a lazy “Woof” that sounded a lot like commiseration.