Deeper Than Need: A Secrets & Shadows Novel

by Shiloh Walker

  Wow. With more than a little dismay, she looked around and tried to figure out just where to start. The main desk, she figured. She wasn’t touching the one where she figured Noah did most of his work.

  Turning her back on it, she focused on the desk with the computer as a headache pulsed behind her eyes.

  Make a dent—he wanted her to make a dent. Well, it had been a while since she’d done the administrative bit, although she’d started brushing up on all the necessary skills over the past few months, thank God. She could do this. Administrative stuff was how she’d started out, after all.

  First things first, make some sort of sense of this utter disaster.

  Disaster was putting it mildly.

  “What an utter mess.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Office work.

  He’d left Trinity Ewing back at his place doing office work.

  Now, if only he could get through the rest of the day without thinking about her every ten minutes—every five minutes was proving to be a challenge.

  The job on her place was one of the bigger ones he was juggling at the moment, but it was on a standstill until he got the okay to get back to work. So he’d done some rescheduling and was moving forward with the project on the coffee shop.

  Hank’s group was tackling the roofing repairs and Noah needed to finish up the estimates and go over a few things with Louisa on the remodeling inside. This was one job he wanted done. The woman had already changed her mind three times, and if she changed it again it was going to cost her some serious money. That would lead to serious headaches for him.

  He hadn’t wanted to spend more than a few minutes updating her, but no. Of course it couldn’t go that way. Louisa wanted to grill him about the Frampton place and it took almost forty minutes just to cover the basic information that should have only taken twenty minutes tops.

  In the end, a delivery saved him and he escaped to the area where he’d been doing some renovating on his own. This was one particular area he wasn’t turning over to somebody else. He’d do the estimates, he’d play the contractor, because it made it easier for his client base, but he wasn’t giving up working with his hands.

  Smoothing a hand down the exposed brick, he pictured the way the expansion would look when they were done … if he could talk Louisa into it. The brick was a mess right now. Everything in here was a mess, but he could see it with a window set along the southern wall, facing out over the little garden Louisa had in the back. Sunlight coming in. Some built-in bookshelves. She had an idea of having community-type events going on back here and he thought the look he had in mind would be perfect for it.

  He made a few more notes and checked a site on his iPad, found a few pictures. He e-mailed the links to himself, wished he had a better way of laying things out so he could show the images he had in mind, but he figured he could talk her into it. She’d trusted his dad with the general layout of the place when she’d opened it up fifteen years ago. Noah hoped she’d give him the benefit of the doubt, too.

  He absolutely was not being cowardly when he listened before moving out into the hall. He was just tired of playing Which Dead Body Do You Think It Was and What Do You Think Happened. Maybe those were everybody else’s current favorite games, but they sure weren’t his.

  He’d played the what-if game, the why and the when game … all of them, and in a very personal fashion, for too many years. He didn’t want to do it now. All he wanted was answers, and peace. So he could get on with his life.

  That thought made him pause for a minute as the realization hit him full force. He really was ready to get on with his life. After twenty years. Closing his eyes, he rested a hand on the wall while a vicious, almost brutal ache gripped his heart.

  Get on with my life …

  That meant one thing.

  Letting go—really letting go of Lana.

  It was a wrenching thought and one he couldn’t contemplate here as the low buzz of voices cut through the chaos in his head. Forcing himself to move, he opened his eyes and looked around. Louisa had gotten caught behind the counter with a mid-afternoon rush and he waved at her before ducking out and moving around to the side of the building. He tucked his gear into the messenger bag he used for meetings and slung the strap over his shoulder crossways before moving out into the alley.

  Slumping against the wall, he stood there, staring at the wall in front of him.

  Emotions, too many to name—grief, regret, a distant sort of loss, sadness—ravaged him as the memory of her face tried to form in his mind. It was crazy. When he dreamed of her, those nightmares where blood slowly consumed everything, in those dreams everything about her was almost painfully clear.

  But now, in this moment, he couldn’t remember much at all. The softness of her hair. Those crazy red curls. Her misty grey eyes that could go from warm to cutting cold in a blink. Sometimes he’d catch a scent of something he couldn’t explain, but it immediately made him think of her.

  Now, standing there in that quiet alley, he realized he didn’t want this anymore.

  Not at all.

  Whether he had answers or not, he didn’t want to live like this.

  “I loved you,” he whispered to the faded memory in his mind.

  Then he shoved off the wall and headed to the ladder at the end of the alley.

  That was all he could handle for now. He had to make his peace, move on. But this wasn’t the time or the place for it.

  A shouted curse and a chorus of laughter drove that fact home. Later. When he had time to think all of this through, work it out, he’d focus on it then.

  For now, the job.

  Clearing the roof, he skimmed a look around, taking a few more seconds to settle his mind before approaching the men spread out around the roof. Hank’s crew had already made decent progress. They needed to get this done because they’d won the bid to repair some storm damage at First Christian and that had to be done fast. Knowing Hank Redding, Noah realized his team would be doing some overtime to get everything done.

  The other man slid him a look as Noah approached. “Surprised you haven’t already been up here to check on things,” Hank said, pausing just long enough to wipe the sweat from his eyes.

  “I had an unexpected business thing to take care of this morning. Then Louisa kept playing Twenty Questions over what happened at the Frampton place.” Although he doubted Hank would start it, Noah slid him a narrow look. “I’m tired of Twenty Questions.”

  “Seeing as how Louisa doesn’t stop at twenty, I can understand that. She probably had about eighty.” Hank shrugged restlessly and glanced at his crew. The sound of music, hammers and voices filled the air. “Any of them get after you, just ignore them. I’ll shut them up quick enough.”

  With a faint smile Noah said, “Thanks. But I’m getting used to it.” No, he wasn’t, but he’d have to handle it. The questions were going to come, no matter what. Hooking his thumbs in his pockets, he studied the roof. “Looks like you’ll finish up soon.”

  “Yeah. If not today, then tomorrow—assuming we don’t get rained out. I’m really hoping we don’t get rained out. We need to get to work on the church before the rain moves in.” Hank shot him a sly look. “So, if you don’t mind me saying, I couldn’t help but noticing your visitor this morning. Saw that pretty lady walk into your office this morning when I was on a break.”

  Noah sighed. “You probably see lots of things, Hank.”

  “Ms. Ewing sure looked nice in that skirt.” That sly look shifted into a full-out grin. “Did she have anything to do with your unexpected business thing?”

  Lee Brevard, one of the men on Hank’s crew, sat back on his heels and whistled.

  Noah shot him a dark look.

  Lee just grinned. “That Trinity woman is hot. If she ever wants to take care of business and you ain’t up to it, Preach, just send her my way.”

  Noah just stared at him. Lee went red and focused back on the job.

  Next to him, Hank s
norted. “Lee, that woman ain’t gonna mess with the likes of you. She’s got a brain in her head; haven’t you noticed?”

  Lee flipped him off.

  Hank ignored him and looked back at Noah.

  Noah sighed and reached up to rub his neck. “It appears I might have filled that office position of mine.”

  “Is that a fact?” Hank continued to smile. “Well, she’ll be a pretty thing to look at all day.”

  Noah shrugged. “I’m looking for office help, not decoration. Since when did you know me to spend more than thirty or forty minutes in my office a day, at the most?” That was part of why the place was such a disaster and why he needed so much help.

  “Hey, nothing wrong with enjoying the decoration while you are there,” Lee said.

  Noah shifted his attention to Lee and just stared at him until Lee looked away, grumbling under his breath.

  “Ignore him,” Hank said, although his eyes glinted with humor. “Lee’s still got his head in his pants half the day.”

  “Don’t we all?” somebody called from across the roof.

  Noah decided it was a good thing he didn’t need to be up there any longer, not with the way this conversation was going. “I’m going to head on out. I need to check with a few more guys for Louisa’s figures. Keep in touch, okay?”

  He was trying not to think about how often he’d be seeing Trinity around. Daily. How hard was it going to be to keep his thoughts on business? He couldn’t. Something he’d already acknowledged, at least on some level, when he’d offered her the job.

  Man, this was a mess.

  He hadn’t been able to have a relationship with anybody in twenty years and he had just hired the one woman who had somehow managed to catch his interest in all that time. Life was getting entirely too complicated. A few weeks ago, things had been simpler. Quieter.

  Grey.

  Dull.

  Lifeless.

  But there was no going back to it. Things had been changing in him for a while, ever since he’d laid eyes on her and Micah, to be honest; any chance of keeping his safe, bland existence had disappeared the day a couple of rotted boards had given way … and Trinity’s sharp scream of terror had changed everything.

  The way his heart had stopped when she’d gone through that floor. The way it had stopped again, as she clung to him down there. As crazy as everything had been, as horrified as he had been—still was—by what they’d both seen, having her in his arms was the first thing that had felt right in a very, very long time.

  * * *

  Trinity had absolutely no idea what sort of dent she was expected to make.

  But she could see the surface of his desk. Surely that would count for something.

  She’d managed to separate paid invoices from unpaid ones, and the unpaid ones were now in envelopes, ready to be sealed, addressed, stamped and mailed. She’d considered doing that, but knowing her luck, Noah had the unpaid ones in the wrong pile or they’d been paid and he’d forgotten to mark them or something.

  Until he gave her the okay, she wasn’t invoicing anybody.

  Man, the guy had some serious money owed to him. He needed to get his accounts in order in the worst way. He’d made an offhanded remark about his budget, but if he’d get better about collecting the money he was owed his bottom line would improve quite a bit.

  If he ran his business like this, it was a wonder he stayed in business. But that wasn’t her concern. Well, as long as she managed to keep a job it wasn’t her concern. Maybe if things went well she could approach it later down the road.

  Blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes, she made herself focus on the filing cabinets.

  If he had any sort of organization going on here, she couldn’t make heads or tails of it. He had receipts from 2012 filed in with receipts from 2014. He had invoices from 2008 shoved in here, for crying out loud. It was like he opened a drawer and just shoved things in wherever they’d fit.

  “Good grief,” she muttered, frustrated and getting more frustrated as she pulled out what looked like a bunch of unpaid invoices from 2007. “Man, what are you doing—”

  “Admiring the view.”

  The low, unfamiliar voice caught her off-guard and she shrieked, spinning around and slapping a hand against her chest.

  A man stood in the doorway.

  Long, lean, gorgeous as the day was long and staring at her with a look of blatant male appreciation. It was a look that automatically sent an alarm through her. It was too practiced, with just the right amount of interest and heat in his eyes, and damn it if she didn’t feel her heartbeat kick up a few beats.

  She’d fallen for his type and she’d been screwed over by his type. Oh, Anton hadn’t been the rough, sexy tattoed type like this guy was, but he’d been the same, under it all. A player.

  A faint smile curved the man’s lips. Stubble darkened his face and his sleepy-lidded look all but screamed sex. Before Anton, that smile might have elicited a smile in return. Might have made her think about … something.

  But Anton, and all the trouble he’d brought into her life, had made her reshift her priorities. Micah had then redefined her priorities.

  That look, though, was still enough to make any red-blooded woman very aware of the fact that she was a woman.

  A glint darkened his eyes and that smile widened just a fraction before he turned away, hooking his thumbs in his pockets as he focused on the desk. “Sorry, ma’am. I was looking for Noah. It looks like he finally got around to hiring somebody … Miss…?”

  He smiled at a woman like he expected her to just slip her panties off. She lifted a brow, gave him her best blank smile, the one she’d used to greet banks, cops and strangers alike. “Ewing. Trinity Ewing. You are?”

  “Adam.” The smile he had shifted, ever so slightly, as he rocked back on his heels and tucked his hands in his pockets, his eyes narrowing on her face. “Ewing … you’re the one who bought the Frampton house. Out where they found the body.”

  “That small-town grapevine is in working order, I see,” she said levelly.

  “Hard to miss it.” He lifted one shoulder, the black T-shirt he wore hugging tight against some seriously toned muscles. “Rough business, there. Sorry it happened.”

  “Thank you. If you can give me your name, I’ll tell Noah you were here.”

  “Just tell him Adam dropped by.”

  “Last name?”

  “Oh, he’ll know.” Adam gave a nod, polite and simple, some of that intense sexuality toned down. “I’ll see you around, Ms. Ewing.”

  He was gone in the next moment, slipping through the door with eerie, soundless grace. Trinity slumped against the filing cabinet and groaned. She was too jumpy. Had been ever since …

  She closed her eyes and tried not to think about it, but it was so hard not to.

  She’d been jumpy ever since they found that damn body.

  Granted, it hadn’t been all that long, but what was it going to take before her heart didn’t race at every sound, at every new voice, at every creak of the floorboards?

  * * *

  An hour later, Micah emerged from his playroom, sleepy eyed from the nap he’d insisted he hadn’t needed. He looked at the desk, at the stacks of invoices and the boxes on the floor; then he looked at her.

  “Is there a dent?”

  Trinity smiled. “No. No dents. He didn’t actually expect me to make a dent in his desk or anything, big guy. He just meant get this place straightened up a little.”

  “Oh.” Micah swiped at his nose. “He doesn’t clean his room good, does he?”

  She winced as Micah swiped at the snot under his nose again. “No, baby. He definitely doesn’t.” With a sigh she pulled some tissues from the box she’d put on the desk and passed them over. The dust in here was another thing she had to deal with. Tomorrow, though. She wanted these boxes dealt with because every time she moved a box a new herd of dust bunnies appeared. “Please don’t wipe your nose on your shirt. That’s gross, kid, an
d you know it.”

  Micah took the tissue and made a halfhearted attempt to wipe his nose. “That one is still messy.” He pointed to the desk tucked up against the wall.

  “I know.” She glanced at it. “I think that’s where Noah does his work, so I’d rather he clean up that mess by himself.”

  “He should clean it all up. He made it. You make me clean up my messes.”

  Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning, she stared at him solemnly. “I’ll tell you what. You pay me as much money as Noah is going to pay me to clean up his mess and I’ll start cleaning your messes, too.”

  He wrinkled his nose and turned back to the playroom. “When are we going to be done working? I’m hungry. I’m bored.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m probably close to done. I’ll be sure to pack more for you to do tomorrow, okay?” She hadn’t exactly expected today to happen like this. The plan had been drop off résumé followed by hope for the best. Not drop off résumé, get hired and work her tail off.

  The door opened and she shifted her attention to it, automatically straightening in the chair. She continued to smile, but it felt a little strained, frayed around the edges as nerves started to pulse inside. As Noah came inside, she pushed herself upright, her back screaming at her from all the bending and lifting she’d done over the past few hours. Linking her fingers to keep from fidgeting, she moved out from behind the desk as he stopped in the middle of the floor and looked around.

  His gaze lingered on the desk that was still cluttered.

  “I left that one alone … it looks like plans or whatever you call them. I didn’t want to mess anything up.”

  He nodded and bent down over one of the massive sheets of paper, jotting down a note along the side. “Plans for what we’re doing over at the coffee shop,” he said.

  He hung his tool belt on a hook on the wall and then turned to stare at the bigger desk, eying the stack of files there.

  “There’s still a lot of work that needs to be done,” she said defensively. “It looks like you haven’t done any paperwork in months.”