by Olivia James
Lethal Allure
Olivia Jaymes
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
About the Author
LETHAL ALLURE
Copyright © 2020 by Olivia Jaymes
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
Created with Vellum
1
Luke "Brew" Brewster had grown up in a house full of women. His mother, of course, and his four sisters. Even the dog had been a female, so Luke and his father had been outnumbered at all times. It hadn't been easy either. With four sisters, he hadn't had much time in the bathroom and at one point in his childhood he'd been surrounded by literally dozens of stuffed animals, an unknown number of naked Barbies, and various shades of the color pink.
Mostly, he and his dad would hide out in the garage, watching sports and messing with an old car they were fixing up. Eventually, Brew's mom would shoo them back into the house for dinner and they'd all sit down together to talk about anything and everything. Frankly, he'd had an amazing childhood and was quite close to his family. Even with work, he tried to hang out with them at least once a week if possible.
So Luke thought he had at least a working understanding of the female mind. He knew about cramps, and mood swings. He understood that his sisters might talk about their problems but that didn't mean they wanted him to fix things for them. He didn't really understand why they were attracted to certain guys but he sure as shit understood that many of them were losers and didn't deserve any woman based on how they'd treated his sisters.
But he'd realized today that there was a gap in his education regarding women...
What in the hell was a window treatment? And how was it different than curtains? He'd agreed to help his little sister Melissa hang her window treatments this morning as she'd recently moved into a new condo.
He placed his toolbox on the floor. "So, we're hanging curtains today?"
"We're hanging window treatments."
His gaze ran over the curtains draped over the back of a chair. "They look like curtains to me."
She pointed to the dark blue fabric on the chair. "Those are curtains, but we're also going to have a valance. I guess, technically, it's a cornice."
If a valance or a cornice smacked him upside the head he wouldn't know the difference.
"Whatever you say. I'm just the muscle so tell me what to do."
Groaning, Melissa rolled her eyes. "You're such a Neanderthal sometimes, big brother. It wouldn't kill you to learn a little about interior design."
"You don't know that for sure. It might kill me."
"Tougher things have tried and you're still standing."
True, I've been shot at more than the average person.
Melissa directed him to her bedroom where the cornice was being stored. It was basically a box covered in fabric that coordinated with the drapes. It covered the curtain rod and hooks because apparently having them show was a big decorating faux pas.
Who knew?
The only reason Luke had curtains in his house at all was because his sisters had hung them. They'd also bought him throw pillows and various bric a brac that they claimed made a house homier. He'd always tease them and say that the pillows just matched his giant flat screen television.
The work didn't take long, however, and within an hour the drapes and cornice were hung over the front window. Luke had to admit that it did look nice.
"What's next?" he asked, popping open the beer that his sister had handed him after a job well done. "A new garbage disposal? Maybe a back deck?"
"You can't build a new deck," she scoffed, flipping on the television. "You're handy but that would take real skill."
"I think Dad and I could handle it. I'm actually pretty impressed that you built that cornice thing all by yourself. You needed tools for that. Did you buy yourself a hammer and a screwdriver?"
He'd thought about getting her a small standard toolkit as a housewarming gift, but he hadn't wanted to discourage her from asking him for help when she needed it.
Melissa laughed. "Are you kidding? I had my friend Shaw help me. There's no way I could do that by myself."
"Shaw? Is that some new guy you're seeing?"
"Shaw is a girl. She just has one of those names that is sort of neutral. I met her in yoga class about a year ago. She's really nice. And pretty."
Luke knew where this was going. His entire family seemed to think his single status was an affront to mankind. In truth, at age thirty-three he was getting a little tired of dating, but his job wasn't conducive to meeting women, nor were the hours. He worked a great deal and he hadn't yet met a female he liked enough to make compromises for. He definitely wanted to settle down some day, though.
"If you're to be believed, all your friends are pretty."
"Naturally. But I'm serious here. You and Shaw would make a nice couple." She hopped up from the sofa and grabbed her phone from the table. "Let me show you a picture of her. We all went out to the movies a few weeks ago."
"I'm not inter–"
"It won't hurt to look at her picture," Melissa scolded. "You might think she's attractive. Most people do."
His sister paged through her photos and then turned the screen so he could see. It was a picture of Melissa sitting in a movie theater with a friend on either side. He knew the one on the left was Taylor. He'd met her at his sister's birthday party last year. The other woman was a delicate little blonde with a big smile.
She was attractive. Really attractive. Luke might not admit it out loud, but he had a thing for blondes. Even better if they were petite. He was a big man, but he liked a woman he could perch on his knee and cuddle.
Melissa pointed to her friend. "That's Shaw. Isn't she pretty?"
"She is."
"She's nice too. And smart. And successful. She has her own business."
She sounded like a real paragon of virtue.
"Then she probably has more men than she knows what to do with."
"She's more of an introvert and she's not seeing anyone right now. I could fix you up."
Luke couldn't think of anything more terrible than being fixed up on a blind date by his little sister. He could get a date. If he wanted to. He'd just been damn busy lately with his new job.
"If she's so great, why is she single?"
"Why are you single?" Melissa shot back. "Because you work all the time and you're picky, that's why. It's the same with Shaw. Maybe I shouldn't try and fix you up after all. Especially, if you're going to be a grouch about it. Geez, when was the last time you went out on a date, anyway?"
Two...no...more like four months ago. I
t had been a waitress from the sports bar he and his co-workers liked to frequent. It hadn't been bad, but he hadn't felt the spark. Now it was awkward when he'd go for a beer with the guys. He should have known better but she'd basically asked him out, bold as brass. He'd said yes and now he only had himself to blame.
"A while ago," he finally replied. It wasn't any of her business. "Listen, she sounds like a nice woman but I'm so tired from working I don't think it's fair to date right now. This is my one day off this week and look how I'm spending it...with my sister. Some females want to be the center of attention and I can't give them that."
Melissa made a face and her gaze dropped down to her phone. "Celia liked to be the center of attention."
She hadn't said the words loudly, but Luke heard her. Celia was his high school girlfriend. He'd dated her for four years and they'd certainly been serious. At one point, he'd thought he might marry her. They'd broken up in a mutual decision about six months after high school graduation.
"Celia was a nice girl."
Because she was. Or at least she had been.
"Whatever happened to her?"
"Last I heard she got married and had a couple of kids. Why?"
Melissa shrugged. "Just wondered. You aren't still in love with her, are you?"
"No, and might I remind you that you're the one that brought her up, not me. I haven't thought about Celia in a long time."
"Shaw wouldn't want to be the center of attention. She avoids the spotlight."
"Good for her."
"So?" Melissa challenged, elbowing Luke in his ribs. "Should I fix you two up? I'm totally serious. I think you two would really hit it off. She's one of my best friends and it would be nice if your girlfriend was someone that the whole family would like."
"No."
"One date. That's all. It wouldn't hurt."
"No."
"C'mon, she's really nice. One measly little date. Just coffee. If you don't like her, I'll never say anything about the women you date ever again."
Now that was a deal worth making. Shutting up Melissa forever sounded like nirvana.
"Promise?"
Melissa made an X over her chest with her finger. "Cross my heart and hope to die."
It was so tempting...
"I'll think about it."
"This is why you're single, big brother. All you do is think. You need to be a man of action."
Thankfully, his sister didn't know how much action he was or wasn't getting.
"I said I'll think about it. Don't push me."
"You're pathetic. All you do is work."
"My work is important. I catch the bad guys."
Really terrible, truly awful bad guys.
"I just don't want you to end up alone."
He didn't want that either, but sometimes he wondered if the right woman was even out there. She might not even exist.
And if she did, she might hate his job. That would be a deal breaker. No question.
2
Today was a day for Shaw to celebrate. She'd inked a deal to write an advice book. She was finally beginning to see the fruits of her hard work and it was exciting. Yes, there were parts of the job that were less than ideal, but for the most part she was living the dream.
Those less than ideal parts were also fairly recent. She was, however, determined to keep her head down and not lose focus on her goals. Everything else was simply a distraction which she didn't allow much of.
In fact, she took great pride in being a workaholic, which is why her friends had to pry her out of her house and drag her out to dinner to celebrate this momentous milestone with a fancy dinner at a snooty restaurant. She had to admit that she was glad they did. It was one thing to be an introvert, but it was something quite different to be a hermit. Lately, she'd been working so much she might qualify for the latter.
Her friend Melissa had ordered them a round of drinks and was now raising her martini glass. "Congratulations, Shaw. There's no stopping you now."
They clinked glasses and Shaw took a sip of her cosmopolitan, the cool, tart liquid sliding down her throat. It was delicious, and she enjoyed how the vodka warmed when it reached her belly. She needed to pace herself, however. She was a complete lightweight when it came to booze and they'd only just ordered their entrees. She didn't want to be a tipsy mess before she even had a chance to eat her expensive dinner.
"So what did you do today to celebrate?" Taylor asked.
Shaw had met Melissa at a yoga class about a year ago, and then she'd met Melissa's friend Taylor. They had all luckily hit it off and enjoyed spending time together. They all had a quirky sense of humor that other people sometimes didn't quite get. Shaw had often been called weird and strange when she was in high school. It had bothered her when she was young but as she'd grown older, she'd realized those words were more of a badge of honor. She didn't want to be just like everyone else.
"I worked. Just like every other day, I guess."
She had an online channel where she gave relationship advice to people who contacted her with their problems. It had started out small, just a project when she was working on her masters’ degree. It had actually been a friend's idea - more of a dare, really - but now it was a full-time job that paid all of her bills. It had taken a great deal of work and sweat but she was reaping the rewards now.
Melissa took a sip of her martini. "Anything interesting in this episode? Hoarder behavior? Cheating? In-law problems? He's a dog person and she's a cat person?"
"I like to fool myself into thinking that all my shows are interesting," Shaw replied tartly, but with a wry grin. "But since you asked, this one is all about expectations. For example, if I was dating someone what are reasonable expectations to have for my birthday? Or Christmas? Or even just getting taken to the airport? I get so many questions about that, by the way. People want to be taken to the airport or picked up, but no one wants to do the actual picking up or dropping off. It's a relationship minefield."
"It's like no one has ever heard of a cab or a ride share," Taylor lamented. "I dated a guy that wanted me to take him to the airport at one in the morning on a weekday. One in the morning. We'd been dating for like...a month."
Shaw nodded in understanding. "Expectations. We all have them, but we rarely discuss them out loud. Then we get upset when our partner doesn't meet them. That's how passive aggressive behavior starts."
"I didn't get all passive aggressive," Taylor replied with a laugh. "I just got gone. Toodles. Life is too short. But that wasn't the only reason. He had issues. Lots of 'em. I didn't want his issues to become mine."
Melissa's brows rose. "Speaking of issues... Are you still getting messages from that creepy fan?"
As a person in the public eye, Shaw received more than her fair share of creepy, weird messages. Some, however, were more disturbing than others. Most of the time she shrugged off the angry, disgruntled subscribers and simply blocked them from her social media. This one was proving difficult, though. He'd been blocked several times but kept coming back under different personas. He'd been ratcheting up the drama as well, sending more frequent and bizarre messages, swearing undying devotion and sounding angry in the same sentence.
Her agent had told her to block and ignore. There were strange people all over the world and the vast majority of them were harmless, simply reaching out for contact with someone they thought might understand them. As someone who had studied psychology, Shaw agreed with that assessment, but the problem was knowing whether this person was in the normal ninety-eight percent or that dreaded two.
"He sends me a message or email just about every day," Shaw replied with a sigh. "It's gone from one or two a week to multiples every single day."
"What does he say?" Taylor asked with a visible shudder. "He doesn't ask for your underwear, does he?"
Shit, that hadn't even occurred to Shaw. Ick.
"No," she said firmly, shaking her head. "He does not. He talks about how I'm the only one that understands him a
nd that I need to help him."
"He might be beyond help," Melissa muttered under her breath. "But knowing you, you tried to."
"I did but he didn't want to see a therapist or talk to anyone but me. He became angry that I wasn't helping, and he called me lots of names. That's when I blocked him."
"Good for you," cheered Taylor. "That will teach him."
Sadly, it wasn't that easy.
"Didn't work. He just kept creating more profiles. The minute I block one he gets another. It's like playing a game of whack-a-mole."
"He has a lot of time on his hands," Melissa said. "You have to give him credit for his persistence. Imagine what he could do if he put that much effort into a career or a real relationship. Have you talked to the police?"
"What? No." Shaw shook her head. "I don't think this warrants calling law enforcement. My agent says that this is normal when you have a job that's public facing. There are always going to be a few cranks, trolls, and creeps. I'm not worried about it."
"You should talk to my brother Luke. He used to be a cop and now he deals exclusively with serial killers and stalkers. He could tell you what to do," Melissa said, not letting the subject go. "I could call him for you."
"There's no need," Shaw assured her friend. "This isn't a big deal. It's just some messages and emails. He's a pain but I doubt he's dangerous or anything."
Melissa tapped the edge of her glass. "He probably is but I just can't forget some of the stories I've heard from my brother. It's better to be safe than sorry. Just let him read the emails. Let him - a professional - tell you that you have nothing to worry about."
Shaw frowned. "You think I need to be worried." She looked at Taylor. "What about you?"
