by Jen Talty
She laughed. “Are you cockblocking your buddy?”
His mouth dropped open, and his eyes blinked wildly.
“If we’re going to be neighbors and occasionally have a drink, you should be forewarned, I say exactly what I think, when I think it.”
“I had already figured that out, I just hadn’t expected it to be so blunt.” He leaned forward, stretching out his arms, resting his hands on the step on either side of her hips.
She cocked her head to the side as he invaded her personal space.
Oddly, she didn’t mind.
“And since we’re being forthright with each other. Yes. I’m cockblocking my buddy, and unless you flat out tell me to bug off, I’m going to stop by next time I see your car in the driveway with a bottle of wine and a huge steak.” He pushed off the steps, turned on his heels, and strolled across the street as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He hopped into his pickup truck. Another man, who she assumed was his roommate, equally handsome, slid into the passenger seat.
She fanned herself after the truck took the corner and disappeared onto the main road. Brodie had sent her heart on a tail spin, and that didn’t ever happen unless she’d been staring down the wrong end of an AK-47.
“Christ, that is one sexy man,” she mumbled. He wasn’t quiet six feet, and he wasn’t broad, but he was solid, with well-defined muscles. He had that All-American-boy-next-door look, with a dash of badass.
Pushing him out of her thoughts, she sipped her diet soda waiting for the clock to tick to eleven in the morning.
Thirty-two seconds.
Mozart never failed.
And like clockwork, his name appeared on her phone.
“Good morning,” she said with a smile, trying to ignore the tightness in her chest. It had been eleven in the morning on this date twenty-five years ago when the police told her and her father that her sister had been found, dead. It had been hard to pinpoint the exact time of death since Amy’s body had been so badly decomposed, so Harper used this day as the anniversary of Amy’s death.
A year later, her father committed suicide, leaving a young child to be raised by her grandmother.
And now she was gone.
Tears stung her eyes. She’d chosen this day to move into her new house hoping it would ease the ache in her heart. Amy had been seventeen when she’d been murdered, and ten years older than Harper. The gap in their age didn’t create a distance in their relationship. However, it felt like Amy had been more of a mother than a sister considering their mother had died from breast cancer when Harper had been fifteen months old.
She didn’t remember her mother, but her sister—she could still smell the coconut of her shampoo and feel her loving arms wrapped around Harper like a protective blanket. Even her wonderful grandmother couldn’t recreate that sensation.
Her sister would be proud of what Harper had done with her life, and hopefully Amy and their dad were in heaven, if such a place existed, staring down at Harper. Over the years, she’d reconciled with herself that Amy had needed her dad up there more than Harper needed him here with her.
“Are you settled in?” Mozart asked. She’d met Mozart the year he’d brought his own sister’s killer to justice.
The same man who took Amy.
Harper had wanted to thank him and never expected the kind of kinship they had developed over the last six years.
“Still waiting for the truck with what little shit I have.”
Mozart laughed. “Trust me, you’ll start collecting crap quickly.”
“How are Summer and April?” Harper had met Mozart’s family a couple of times. Truly a blessed man.
“Great. April is talking up a storm. She’s turned this man into a pile of mush. Even has me playing Pretty Pretty Princess, not caring that Summer is taking pictures with me sporting blue clip-on earrings.”
“I’d pay good money to see that.”
“Never gonna happen,” Mozart said.
A short silence filled the airway as it always did when they talked of family. They belonged to a club that no one wanted, and the price of admission was too painful to wrap your brain around.
Unless you lived it.
Then it haunted your every breath.
“Don’t forget, I know a couple of men on the base. You should look up Ace Enders. He’s a Fire Protection Specialist and a good friend of Tex’s. He and his wife are good people. Also on his team are Hunter Jackson and Jax Strovos, both married, though I don’t know Jax that well.”
“You’ve given me all their contact information, more than once, and after I get settled, I’ll reach out.”
“I’m sure they will stop by your office when they can if you don’t.” In the last few years, Mozart had become the only family she had, and she appreciated everything he did for her, but sometimes, she just needed to sink into a quiet space. “What about a Brodie Welch? Do you know him?” Guess right now quiet wasn’t on the menu.
“Yeah. I met him at Ace’s wedding. He’s good buddies with Declan Rivers.”
“As in the son of JAG officer Ashton Rivers?” The only reason she knew Corporal Rivers was because she’d been called to testify in a case where he’d been the defendant’s attorney. Smart man and scary, too. The cross of her testimony had been more frightening than the first time someone fired a machine gun in her general vicinity.
“That’s the one,” Mozart said. “I know Brodie is single, but I think Declan has a girlfriend, or at least he did a year ago.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you dare try to set me up.” She’d never tell Mozart that she had every intention of knocking on Brodie’s door, if only to get another look. However, relationships weren’t her thing. Not because she didn’t like men, or the company of men, but every boyfriend she ever had told her she was emotionally unreachable. The last one would always try to get her to talk more. What the hell was wrong with silence? Why did everyone want to fill it with small talk and stupid shit?
“Having a boyfriend might be a good thing,” Mozart said with a slight laugh. “Now that you’ve gotten that death wish mentality out of your system and took a stable job, maybe it’s time.”
“You call being an investigator for the Air Force a stable job?”
“Hell, yes,” Mozart said.
A moving truck turned down the street. “I’ve gotta run. Talk soon, okay?”
“Let me know if you want a visitor. I’ll be on the next plane.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it. Hug April for me.”
“Will do.”
With that, the phone went dead.
Harper stood, waving to the driver. It was time to start the next chapter in her life.
Chapter 3
After a twenty-four-hour shift, the last thing Brodie wanted to do was mow the lawn, especially when the night had been filled with one call after the other, leaving him feeling worse than his hang-over from yesterday.
The only thing Declan ever got weird about was the lawn and landscaping, wanting it to be meticulous, and Declan certainly had a green thumb.
Brodie not so much.
That said, Brodie was a neat freak and couldn’t stand it when Declan left out a throw blanket when it should be folded and put away in the cabinet.
So, the idea that the gas can he was absolutely certain he’d put in the back of his truck had somehow vanished, drove him nuts. He’d borrowed some gas from a neighbor, got the lawn and weed whacking done, then crashed for five hours.
Five glorious hours of deep sleep, according to his sleep app, which he’d become addicted to. He’d been surprised by how accurate it seemed to be based on when he did wake in the middle of the night. Regardless, he felt refreshed and after a hot shower and one beer, he had all the courage he needed to meander across the street and knock on Harper’s door.
With Declan still sound asleep, Brodie snagged a bottle of red wine, two steaks, and a couple of ears of corn he’d picked up on the way home. This certainly was a bold and forward
move, but this chick had taken his breath away, and he wanted to find out more about the woman behind the sexy looks.
She’d backed her SUV under the carport. The forever screen door was the only thing separating him from the inside of her house. Just as he was about to knock, he saw her adorable butt wiggling back toward him through the family room as her arm moved back and forth pushing a mop. In the background, he heard the twangy voice of some male country singer mixed with her sweet voice, though a bit pitchy.
He leaned against the doorjamb and let out a long sigh. “Wanna dance?” he asked.
She jumped, dropping the mop to the ground. “Christ, you scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry.” He held up the bottle of wine and the steaks. “Are you ready to take a break? We can go back to my place or if you’ve got a grill, I can cook.” He winked. “I’ll do all the clean up too.”
“Does that mean you’ll finish mopping for me?”
“God, no, and I don’t do bathrooms.”
“What good are you then?” She pushed open the door, taking the wine from his hand. “I’ve got a brand-new grill with a fresh propane tank, but you’ve got to hook it up.”
“I’m thinking I might regret coming over here.”
“I made chocolate chip cookies earlier, so I think that might make up for it.”
“Damn sure it will.” He followed her through the family room, where a sofa and a love seat had been staged. A rectangular distressed wood coffee table stood in the middle of the room. Two pictures, one of the beach and one of a turtle, leaned up against the wall.
He tried not to get dirt on her clean floor as he made his way into her kitchen.
Most of the houses in this area were set up the same way with the kitchen and dining room in the back of the house, three bedrooms of the left side of the family room, and this house was no different, except hers was recently updated with new cabinets, floors, countertops, and other finishing touches that his place didn’t have.
The kitchen had been expanded, joining it to the dining room, making it more of an eat-in kitchen. A center island had been added, and the brand-new appliances were all stainless steel.
“This place is great,” he said, remembering when the previous owners had begun their remodel. It had been one problem after the next, and it had taken seven months to finish the project. Sadly, the couple that owned the house ended up having to sell when he’d been transferred to the other side of the state.
“It was the first house I looked at. Every house after just didn’t hold a candle. I also like the area, like being close to the beach, and work.”
“What do you do?” He set the steaks on the counter.
“We can talk about that over dinner.” She pointed to the back patio. “Trust me to prep the steaks while you wrestle with the grill?”
“As long as you bring me a glass of wine first.”
“Deal,” she said with a smile. She set the bottle on the counter and opened a drawer.
Her dark hair had been pulled up into a ponytail. Her jean shorts hung loosely on her hips. An inch of her mid-drift peeked out from between her pants and her crop top. If he had to guess her age, he’d say she was closer to thirty and that was fine with him. He preferred a mature woman but didn’t want to go older than himself.
“You’re staring.” She popped the cork and quickly poured two hefty glasses.
“Just waiting for that.” He took the flute she offered and clinked with hers. “Here’s to a good piece of meat.”
She laughed. “Go. I’ll be out shortly.”
He took his wine and pulled open the slider. Her backyard was lined with lush, tall palm trees, creating a fair amount of privacy. A small stone patio took up a good portion of the area. Laughing at the fact that the price tag was still on the new outdoor table, he went about his task to hook up the grill and get it fired up so he could burn it hot for a good twenty minutes. Kind of like cleaning new dishes before eating off them.
When he was finished, he sat down in one of the chairs and sipped his wine, staring at the orange sky as the sun made its descent behind the horizon.
“Here you go,” Harper said as she placed a tray on the side of the grill. The steaks were coated lightly with some kind of rub, and she’d wrapped the corn in foil. She also brought out a spray water bottle to help control the flames. Impressive. However, the best part had been that she’d brought out the bottle of wine and topped off his glass.
“Cheers to—”
“If you say meat, I’m kicking your ass out of here,” she said with a smile.
“Cheers to good neighbors becoming good friends.”
Her lips curled over the rim of the glass as the red liquid flowed into her mouth in an exotic, memorizing dance. One he needed to break quickly.
The steaks sizzled as he slapped them on the grill, keeping the lid open, gauging the temperature, which ran a little hot, so he turned it down a tad.
Harper sat in one of the chairs, angling herself to face him, along with pushing out another chair to prop her feet on. Her long legs with lean muscles tortured his mind with visions of things he shouldn’t be thinking about. At least not right now.
His mom and sisters had beat into his brain never to sleep with a woman on the first date. That wasn’t the kind of woman you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.
Why the fuck was he thinking about the rest of his life, plus he knew for a fact his oldest sister had slept with her husband before she even knew his name.
Jesus, Harper had him turned upside down and inside out.
“So, are you going to tell me what you do for a living?” he asked, flipping the steaks and spraying the flame, keeping them from charring the meat.
“I’m an Air Force Investigations Officer.”
He snapped his head in her direction. “No shit.”
She tipped her glass. “I enlisted when I was twenty, right out of college with a criminal justice degree.”
“That’s really fucking cool.” Being sexy was one kind of turn on, but being smart, and a badass chick, that was something entirely different. “How long have you been an investigator?”
“About a year. I was stationed at Langley for that year.”
“What did you do before you became an investigator?” he asked as he put the steaks on the plates she’d provided and joined her at the table. The food smelled like the finest restaurant, only all he cared about was getting to know the lovely lady sitting across from him.
“I started out as a Clerk in the JAG office, but quickly became an MP.”
That made him stop chewing for a second. “That is one hell of a tough job.”
“Especially as a woman.”
“I bet. My twin sister went through hell to become a firefighter. Still does sometimes.”
“Is she in the military?”
He shook his head. “She’s back in Vermont with the rest of my family.”
“Do you have more brothers and sisters?” She cut through her steak, making small bites before digging in.
“Only sisters. My twin, Madison, and then one younger sister, Nora, and my other sister is older.”
“That must have sucked being the only boy.”
He laughed. “It was interesting, that’s for sure, but no. Not really. What about you? Siblings?”
Her eyes glossed over, and her pretty smile quickly tipped into a frown. She raised her hand and cleared her throat. “I had a sister. She died a long time ago.”
“Jesus, I’m sorry.” He pulled out the chain that held his dog tags and encircled them in his fingers. No way could he wrap his brain around losing one of his sisters.
“My childhood wasn’t a pleasant one,” she said with a tremor in her voice.
He wondered if he should change the subject, but that felt rude. He should let her direct the conversation.
She emptied the bottle of wine between their two glasses and leaned back in her chair. “My mother died from breast cancer when I was a
baby.”
He swallowed. Hard. He wanted to move to the chair next to her and wrap his arms around her, but he suspected that she was the kind of woman, that when she chose to discuss this kind of suffering, needed her space.
“Then my sister was murdered when I was seven.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled.
“I don’t mean to be a downer, but you asked.”
He stared into her cocoa orbs, keeping her gaze, trying to convey with a single look that she could talk all night long about whatever she wanted.
And he’d listen.
“I take it that is why you went into this line of work.”
She nodded. “It was that or a become a shrink since a year after my sister died, my father committed suicide.”
“Fuck.”
“That’s a good way to put it.” She dropped her head back and closed her eyes. “I don’t know why I just told you all that. It’s not something I share with someone when I first meet them, but today is the anniversary of the day I found out my sister had been killed.”
“I honestly can’t imagine. I’ve seen my share of death. Even had a decorated pilot die in my arms after pulling him from a plane crash, but I don’t have a clue as to what you have gone through. Can I ask a question?”
She opened her eyes and lowered her chin. “You can ask. I might not answer.”
He nodded. “Did they catch whoever murdered your sister?”
“Years later they did. A man who had also lost a sister to the same killer was instrumental in bringing him down.”
“Mozart,” Brodie whispered, remembering the story well. “I’ve met him a couple of times. Good man.”
“The best.”
A long silence filled the night air. The meaty aroma lingered in his nostrils while the crickets sang a sweet song. The sky slowly turned a dark blue as nightfall took over.
“I have a question for you,” she said, but didn’t wait for him to agree to answer. “What’s it like being a twin? Is that connected shit true? Like can you feel what she’s feeling or know when something is wrong?”
He held up his hand, showing off three fingers. “I think that is more than one question.”
