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The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide

Page 138

by Nina Bruhns


  She was rapidly regretting that she’d let Sophie know that she was having problems with Keith. “I don’t need Joe Kessler to come and take over. We barely know each other.”

  Her best friend stood by the door, ready to leave. She’d stopped in for a quick visit and to pick up a couple of old work files she’d left behind when she’d moved in with Bing. She was setting up a full office out at the farm, and she wanted to keep all her paperwork in one place.

  She put down the box to shrug into her coat. “Bing said Joe had a rough case yesterday. He’ll be taking the day off. He could hang out here. In case Keith shows up.”

  “There’s no way for Keith to know where I am.” Wendy chewed her bottom lip. “He’s going to be furious when he finds me gone. Maybe I could still go back before he realizes that I left.”

  Temporary safety was all well and good, but there’d be hell to pay when he caught up with them. “Maybe I’m making everything worse.”

  “No. If he won’t stay away from you, then you need to find a way to stay away from him,” Sophie said with full conviction.

  She was smart and right about most things, but maybe she was wrong about this. Wendy pushed back against her rising panic, but it wouldn’t go away. Letting Sophie talk her into moving out here yesterday afternoon had been a mistake. It wasn’t as if she could stay away from Keith forever. They had a son together. She didn’t have full custody.

  The thought filled her with the kind of dark desperation she didn’t want to dump on anybody. She smoothed down her pants and rubbed the heels of her hands on the side. She was a model; she could certainly smile on demand, so she did. She didn’t want Sophie to worry. “I was shaken up yesterday. I was too tired. I made more of things than what they really were. We’ll be fine at home.”

  Sophie was her only friend left. All the others had dropped off one by one over the years. They didn’t like Keith. And Keith hated them. They weren’t really her friends anyway, according to him. They just pitied her because she was such a screwup.

  If Sophie found out how weak she was, what a mess her life really was, maybe Sophie wouldn’t be her friend either. Wendy brushed some invisible lint off her pants. “I just needed a good night’s sleep. I got that last night. Thank you. I’m totally fine now.”

  Sophie flashed her an encouraging smile. “Stay for a day or two. Give yourself a chance to think. At least you get out of the paint fumes. I swear those hallways at the apartment building are toxic. But they’ll be all painted in a day or two. And you’d be helping me out. It’s nice not to have the house stand empty. I still have all this furniture and some computer equipment here. Treat this like a mini vacation.”

  No such thing as a vacation from Keith, but Wendy couldn’t tell Sophie that. She wanted to stay, she really did, but she was afraid she was making everything worse. And the idea of some private bodyguard made her even more nervous.

  If Keith did find her here and saw her with a man, he’d probably kill them both.

  “I don’t want to put anyone out.” She fixed her model mask on her face, the one that showed no emotion, certainly not fear.

  But it didn’t look like Sophie was buying it. She went still, worry sitting openly in her eyes. “I’m scared for you and Justin.”

  Wendy gave a quick laugh. “Keith had a bad day. He knocked me over by accident. You’d think if I could walk down the runway in six-inch heels, I could stand steady barefooted in my own kitchen. I was a little lightheaded. I skipped breakfast.”

  “Are you dieting?”

  “No.” She hadn’t been yesterday, but she did cut back to a low-fat, low-sugar smoothie today. Keith had said she was gaining. She wasn’t as strong or as smart as Sophie. Her figure was all she had. She earned her living with it. She couldn’t afford to gain weight, as Keith had reminded her a million times in the past.

  She’d be showing soon. The few weeks she had left that she could still work, she needed desperately.

  Sophie tilted her head. “Extra security wouldn’t hurt. To be on the safe side. Joe kept an eye on me when I needed help.” She grinned. “He’s so hot, he has his own Broslin fan club. And he likes you.”

  “I’m not in the market for a romantic fling. No offense, but Joe Kessler is a total jock, ex-small-town football hero with an inflated ego.” If she ever let another man into her life, he was going to be the exact opposite, someone who would be a great father for Justin.

  Her out-of-this-world-hot one-night-stand with Joe notwithstanding. Whatever had gotten into her the night of the fund-raiser, the first night Justin had been away from her, staying at the log cabin with Sophie and Bing…. Something like that could never happen again.

  Sophie wrapped her pristine white silk scarf around her neck. “It’s not your fault that Keith turned into a jerk. He used to be better.”

  Wendy filled her lungs. “He works too much. He’s responsible for more than his fair share of accounts. The stress level at work is incredible.”

  He told her that every time he apologized for flying off the handle. “I’m sorry, babe. I’m exhausted. I love you so much, you drive me crazy.”

  “Does he still do drugs?”

  “No. He only took speed for a while, to be able to keep up with work.” That was when she’d moved out, shortly after Justin was born. Keith had let her leave. He couldn’t stand the baby crying all night. But now he wanted her back.

  Wendy closed her eyes for a second. “It was just a phase. This is a phase. He can be romantic too. He used to be.” There’d been gifts and flowers and some pretty amazing dates. She’d liked the attention. She wanted to believe that she could be loved like that.

  Sophie raised an eyebrow. “I wonder how much of that was true. Maybe he needed a model girlfriend to round out his hotshot moneyman image. I’m sorry. But how does someone suddenly turn abusive? Maybe it was there all along under the surface.”

  “Maybe.” How could she have been too stupid to notice? “He changed little by little.”

  The first time he’d grabbed her and screamed at her after a grueling day at work, he apologized profusely. She’d believed when he said it was never going to happen again. But as time went on, he lost it more and more often, becoming more violent and controlling. She knew she had to leave. She’d planned it—but then she found out she was pregnant with Justin.

  She’d been on the pill. And she always insisted on Keith using protection. But he wouldn’t always comply. He’d start playing with her, then push inside, claiming afterward that he’d gotten carried away. But since the pill was only 99% effective….

  Not that she could ever regret Justin. Wendy glanced at her son and smiled as he clapped madly at the tap-dancing sheep, a bundle of innocent joy. He was the very best of her.

  Yet Keith had never been happy with the baby. He’d turned violent for the first time shortly after Justin was born.

  “You were smart to move out of his place and get your own apartment.” Sophie took her hand and squeezed it. “Smart and brave.”

  But Wendy shook her head. “I was naïve.” She’d thought she would be safe from him across town. She couldn’t have been more wrong about that. Keith kept showing up at her place, and the violence kept escalating.

  She forced a smile. “All right. Enough with the pity party, or I’m going to have to look for some cheese to serve with all this whine. How is life at the farm with Bing and Peaches?”

  Sophie frowned as if she might protest the sudden change of subject, but the frown quickly disappeared as she said, “Pretty great. You could come and stay with us there. Peaches would be happy to guard you.”

  Peaches was the stray Rottweiler mix Sophie had adopted.

  “That dog and Justin do have their own mutual admiration society going, but you two lovebirds need your privacy.” She was glad that Sophie had found happiness after some pretty difficult years. Bing was the perfect guy for her.

  “Either you agree to protection here, or I’m taking you two back to the farm
with me. I’m not leaving you in danger.”

  But Wendy couldn’t let Sophie take on her problems. “Just because you moved in with a cop, it doesn’t mean you get to do the tough-cop talk with me.” She tried for a smile.

  Sophie wasn’t buying it. “Then let Joe help. If for no other reason than because worrying about you stresses me out, and stress is bad for me.” She tucked her unruly curls under a knitted hat as pristine white as her scarf.

  “Really?” Wendy folded her arms. “Playing the heart-transplant card? You’d sink to that?”

  “Hey, if that’s the only thing you leave me, I have to.” Sophie stuck out her chin, unrepentant.

  Wendy drew a deep breath. “I don’t see this working. Is he going to fit us in between dates?”

  Joe had the sexiest smile in three counties and trouble glinting in his dark eyes when he looked at her. Sadly, she had a feeling he looked at every woman the same way.

  The sexual attraction between them had been instantaneous, had knocked her back a step. She’d given in to Joe’s sexual allure once, so she knew what it felt like. He was a wild ride, exciting, hormones humming, leaving her breathless. But they would never last beyond a few weeks. A couple of years ago, maybe that would have been fine with her, but now with Justin, everything had changed. She wasn’t interested.

  “He’s going to hit on me, and then things will get all awkward. He’s a womanizer. You said so.”

  Sophie frowned. “I said women like him.” She wasn’t going to give up on this. Quitting wasn’t in her nature.

  “Fine. Joe can drive by when he has free time. But I don’t want him in our lives. I don’t want to confuse Justin with that. I don’t want to be the kind of mother who has a revolving door for all the uncles.”

  Sophie had a look of satisfaction on her face as she gave Wendy a hug. “Joe will be great. You won’t even notice that he’s here.”

  Right. Because at six foot tall and built like a, well, football player, with a chiseled jaw and devilish dark eyes, Joe was so easily overlooked. “If this turns into a total fiasco, I’m blaming you for it.”

  Sophie flashed a brilliant smile as she picked up her box of files. “Give the guy a chance. That’s all I’m asking. He’ll drive by a couple of times a day, maybe park across the street and hang out. He won’t be any trouble.”

  “Okay, fine. I give up.” Wendy opened the door for her, looked out, got distracted by the bright, happy yellow of the forsythia bush. “Mind if I take some photos of your place? The front garden looks great. And in here too.” She looked back. “I like the way the sunshine from the back hits everything.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I’m trying something new. Online stock photo sites. That’s where small businesses that can’t afford their own photo shoots go to find images for their ads and websites.” She eyed the fireplace that could definitely be the backdrop on the cover of a romance novel. Indie authors used the sites too, to make their own book covers.

  “If something I upload is chosen, I receive royalty. Not much, but it adds up.” And the income gave her hope that someday she might be able to earn her living with photography.

  “Knock yourself out,” Sophie told her.

  Wendy followed her outside and opened the car door but didn’t linger. “I’ll call you later.”

  A tall, blonde woman, walking her Dalmatian, hurried toward her, then stopped in front of the house and looked after Sophie’s car as it turned at the end of the street. Her hair fell in haphazard locks to her shoulder, her shirt wrinkled.

  “I was hoping to catch her.” She sighed as she looked at Wendy. “I guess she rented out the house, then?”

  “I’ll be staying here for a little while. Hi, I’m Wendy. Are you one of the neighbors?”

  “Terry. We live at the end of the street. I talked to Sophie about renting the house for my parents. They lost their home to a scam artist. Living with us now, but they’re older and need peace and quiet, not four ADHD grandkids. There’s only one guest bedroom, so they have to share. They hadn’t shared in years. My father snores like a machine. My mother hasn’t slept through the night for weeks.”

  Her tone carried desperation as she continued. “When my mother is on the edge, everybody is on the edge. Especially my husband.” She gazed at the house with raw longing. “I guess you put in your bid first.” She didn’t bother hiding her disappointment.

  “We shouldn’t be here long. If you want to talk to Sophie about renting, just call her,” Wendy said over her shoulder as she hurried back inside.

  She didn’t like leaving Justin unattended. A minute was all it took for an accident to happen. Or, say, the furniture to get wrapped in toilet paper. Or a throw pillow to be frosted with melted butter. She blinked those images away. No sense in dwelling in the past.

  She locked the door behind her and walked to her son, who was singing the Sheep Shimmy song with the TV. Okay, no disaster. She picked him up and put kisses all over his chubby little face. “Ready for lunch?”

  “PBJ!” he squealed. He wasn’t the type who had to be talked into eating. “I do it!”

  God, it was good to hear that little voice. He’d come to talking late, worrying Wendy. But once he’d started, he picked up speed and vocabulary pretty fast.

  “Okay. Let’s wash hands first.” She switched him to her hip and carried him out into the kitchen.

  Sophie’s kitchen was larger than the one at the apartment, comfortable and homey with the kind of country chic décor that fit the rest of the house perfectly. Sliding glass doors led to a deck in the back, where squirrels liked to race along the top of the fence to Justin’s delight.

  She helped him wash his chubby little hands in the sink, then collected the jars of grape jelly and peanut butter and a plastic knife so he could try spreading. “Can you hold this? You are such a big boy. Thank you for helping.”

  In the yard on the other side of the fence, four kids between the ages of five and ten poured out the back door, screaming as they ran for the swing set. She wondered if they were Terry’s.

  Was Sophie losing rental income because Wendy and Justin were here? That didn’t seem fair. Keith’s voice popped into her head, taunting her. “Your friends pity you, for heaven’s sake.”

  She needed to straighten things out with him. They couldn’t hide from him forever. She needed to find a solution to her problems with him, and needed to do it in a hurry. The end of April was four days away. If she could straighten out her life by then, Terry’s parents could start renting the house from the first of May.

  She got out the bread.

  “I can do it. I can do it!”

  She let Justin put two slices of bread into the toaster, then push the button down. Toast wouldn’t fall apart so easily when he went at it with the plastic knife. He always got a kick out of the bread popping up, plus Sophie had the kind of toaster that printed cartoon characters on the side.

  When the two slices sprang up, she took them over to the kitchen table and put them on Justin’s plastic plate. She was settling her son onto the chair when the doorbell rang.

  “Sounds like Aunt Sophie forgot something. Don’t make a mess.” She smacked a loud kiss on the top of her son’s head before she walked away.

  But when she opened the door, she found herself looking into Joe Kessler’s turbulent gaze.

  When she’d first met him, he’d been all boyish charm mixed with pure masculine charisma, as close to physical perfection as any of the models she’d worked with. In his crisp uniform, he’d looked more like a stripper cop heading to a bachelorette party than a real police officer. Then that second time at that charity ball, in a sharp tux….

  Now his dark hair fell in disheveled locks across his forehead, several inches past regulation length. He wore faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt, both wrinkled, as if they’d spent some time sitting in his dryer. The sexy smile was gone from his chiseled lips. An angry, red wound stretched across his left cheek, the stitches still i
n.

  His entire energy and aura were completely different. He had a hard edge to him today that made him look a couple of years older.

  If it weren’t for the eyes, she might not have recognized him so fast. He had eyes the color of strong, black English tea. Those eyes had gotten her in trouble in the first place, and the way he’d smiled at her when he’d offered her that ride home from the fund-raiser at the Ritz. When he smiled, a cocky glint would come into his dark eyes that could make a girl’s breath hitch.

  He wasn’t smiling now. Annoyance glinted in his eyes, everything about him somber.

  She was so stunned by the change in him that she stepped back to let him in without arguing the need for his presence. She stared at his scar. “What happened?”

  “Captain said you need help.” He strode in, carrying a dark blue gym bag.

  She had a bad feeling about that. “It’s really nothing. Sophie is being overprotective. Are you okay?”

  “The captain filled me in on what’s going on. I thought about it.” He glanced at Justin making an unholy mess in the kitchen, and dropped his bag at the foot of the stairs. “I’m moving in.”

  Deathblow: Chapter Four

  Wendy Belle wasn’t the type of model foreign princes married. Yes, tall and graceful, but she didn’t radiate a Grace Kelly-like cold beauty. Her lips were too sensuous for that, her eyes too mysterious. Her face was beautiful and perfect in its own way. More than beautiful—interesting. She was the type of woman a man could look at for a lifetime and not get bored.

  “When did Bing talk to you about this?” she asked, her mysterious gray eyes narrowing.

  “An hour ago.” Not that he saw what difference that made.

  “Sophie just left here.” She smoothed down the soft fabric of her azure slacks. She wore a white knit top with matching azure threads shimmering through it. The clothes accentuated her slim figure, the outfit as relaxed as the easy ponytail she had her golden hair in.

  At six foot tall, Joe was no garden gnome, but in heels, Wendy would be taller than him. She was the first woman Joe had ever met who made him feel like she was out of his league. If he had a vain side—very small, miniscule—he might have found that disconcerting. But he wasn’t vain. And he wasn’t going to let her get to him.

 

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