No Turning Back
Page 5
By lying and calling in favors and even paying for an independent investigator, but Leah decided not to admit any of that. “My father and a few of his friends are determined to run the Hanover boys out of town.”
Mallory sighed as she flipped through the file. “They’re men.”
“Somewhere in these boxes might be the information I need to convince The Hanover boys to let me have the house and leave.”
Her head popped up. “Men and let you?”
“I can be very persuasive.”
The snort was not one of Mallory’s best but it still made a point. “Not when it comes to this topic.”
“What does that mean?”
Mallory took a long sip and emptied the glass. She put it down on the coffee table with a soft clink. “Maybe you should think a little less about conning them—”
“Hey!”
“—and a bit more about finding something fun to do with that Declan guy.”
At the mention of his name a vision of his face popped into Leah’s head. Well, not just his face. There were the muscled arms and that sexy tattoo. “That’s your answer for everything.”
“Nope, just the answer for this.” She opened her arms and swept them across the room. “Look around you. You need a life, maybe some pills, but definitely some fancy bed time with that hottie, who you clearly have an unrequited thing for.”
She needed to stop mentioning that idea because it no longer made Leah’s brain explode. It sounded almost . . . yeah, no way she could go there.
The doorbell rang and Mallory smiled. “And you are saved from having to lie to me and deny you’re thinking about what Declan would look like naked.”
“Never crossed my mind.” More like wouldn’t get out of her head.
“We’ll see what you’re saying a few days from now.”
***
Declan stood on the back porch with his hands balanced on the rotted post and stared out over the property’s back acres. The sun had long since faded, and the light by the doors cast everything beyond ten feet in shadows. It was after midnight and he and Beck had only managed to go through one room, and their “content review” amounted to cooking steaks on the small grill Beck grabbed at the convenience store on the way to town.
A slight breeze had kicked up, cooling the early summer night. Declan stood in his tee. After years in the desert and additional time in Bahrain, he welcomed any hint of chill. Heat wasn’t the problem for him. The quiet was. Crickets chirped, but the quiet night fell over him. No car horns or people talking. No street lights or hum of activity.
At this time of night at Shadow Hill it was just him and nature and quiet . . . and Leah. Even now he watched her walk the tree line at the far edge of the property where what used to be the lawn met the overgrown acres of trees. He couldn’t make out her face, but he didn’t have to break out the night goggles or any other equipment to see the pink shirt. She had something over it, but the bottom edge still buzzed around in the breeze.
The woman had a nasty habit of being where she wasn’t supposed to be. Since she also carried a grudge against anyone with the last name of Hanover, he knew he had to handle this quietly and now. Then there was the part where seeing her there, on his land, touched off his interest. He wasn’t the nosy type, but he didn’t like unsolved puzzles either, and this woman amounted to one big, unfathomable game.
Ignoring the creaking wood as he walked across the porch and down the three steps to the lawn, he kept his gaze locked on her. She stared at something in her hands, which gave him the advantage.
With determined strides and a plan to head her off before she disappeared into the thick woods, he circled around to his far right, cutting behind what the property plans described as a caretaker’s cottage. Looked more like a shed to him. One that might have been hit by lightning once or twice.
The trees shook as the wind whipped through the open land, funneling past him and carrying a light mist with it. But the noise gave him cover. He was no more than ten feet away from her before she came to a dead stop and looked up. She glanced to her side and then into the woods.
Then her whole body jolted as her eyes popped. Whatever she held fell to the ground as her hands came up as if to ward off any would-be attacker, and she screamed. And screamed again. Like, the-police-should-be-on-the-way-any-second screamed.
He hadn’t planned on scaring her witless. Guilt sucker-punched him at her reaction, but he focused on the good news that his tracking skills hadn’t faded instead. “You seem to have a problem with trespassing.”
She closed the gap between them and shoved both hands against his chest. “What’s wrong with you? You scared me half to death.”
The push bounced off him but all the yelling hit its mark. Much more of that and he’d need earplugs.
“Maybe you could lower your voice before the police arrive.” The negative side of him suspected the town’s finest would welcome any opportunity to hang a charge on him, even though Leah was the one breaking the law.
“That’s your response?”
After knowing the woman for even a short time he knew arguing was useless. He went with the obvious facts instead. “You’re on my property.”
Her chest continued to rise and fall on rapid breaths. “I lived here.”
The edge of anger in her tone had him dragging his gaze back to her face. “I’m not aware of any law that allows you to wander around on property you used to own.”
“You a lawyer now?”
“No, but I have one at the house.”
“Your baby brother? Oh, please.” She gathered her hair when the ends continued to fly around. With a harsh tug, she twisted it into a makeshift ponytail and tucked the end into the collar of her sweater.
“So, now you’ve moved on from my parents to insult my brothers?”
Her shoulders fell on a heavy exhale, one loud enough to hover over the whistle of the wind. “No, I’m sorry. Look, I really didn’t come to fight. I didn’t expect to see you at all. This is just an innocent walk.”
She managed to race through a lot of words but the first ones stuck with him. “Wait, did you just apologize?”
“I hope you enjoyed it because I’m not saying it again.”
Man, he loved sparring with her. He’d never have guessed that was some sort of sick turn-on for him, but if the revving in his gut every time he saw her was any clue . . . . “That’s a shame, since it almost sounded sincere.”
Her smile never made it to her sad eyes. “How much will it take to make you leave?”
“The backyard?”
“Sweetwater.”
Pricking her temper proved irresistible. Something about the way the fire rushed through her made him wonder what she’d be like if he could focus that passion in a different direction. “What are you offering?”
“Money.” She tucked her fingers into her jeans.
He wondered if the goal was to keep from slapping him. “That’s a shame.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“And you need to work on your game face if you’re going to enter into negotiations with someone you believe to be a con man.”
She crouched down and grabbed something off the thick grass. “When I like someone I can be very charming. You are a different story.”
He stared at the top of her head. She tested his patience while she fascinated him. Looking away was proving harder than he wanted to admit. “You don’t have any clue about what I am.”
“A Hanover.” She balled up a piece of paper and shoved it in her pocket.
A second ago he wanted to shoo her off the property before Beck stumbled off the couch and ordered her to leave. Now all Declan wanted was to see what was on that note. Something about this woman had him jumping and spinning, and he didn’t like it.
“Two million dollars.” That should do it.
“What?”
He shrugged. “You asked for a number. I’m giving you one.”
Her hands balled into fists at her side. The fighting stance matched her stiff shoulders and locked jaw. “Be serious.”
“I don’t know why you think I’m kidding.” That was the number that would make him walk away. He’d split it with his brothers and take off. And he’d forget her. Face, body, flashing in her eyes. It would all disappear from his memory . . . eventually.
Her hand swept across the dark landscape. The back porch was barely visible under a dim, flickering lightbulb but the flat line of her mouth was. “This place isn’t worth that.”
“But that’s not the real question, is it?”
“Meaning?”
“What is it worth to you?” Something scurried through the brush off to his right and he decided to shut this conversation down before whatever was crawling around in there came out and said hello. If Leah screamed at seeing him, he didn’t want to know what sound she’d make if she came face-to-face with something furry and fanged.
“I’m trying to come up with a solution that works for everyone.” She held up her hands as if surrendering. “No threats. No snarkiness. I’m already tired of this fight.”
He could see the exhaustion tugging at the corner of her eyes and in the dark cloud over them. Sympathy rushed up on him and he tried to block it out. “I just got to town.”
“I’ve been fighting it my whole life.”
Well, shit. She managed to hit on the one thing guaranteed to back him off. To make him feel something for her. He understood a lifetime battle against events that happened before he was born. “Look, Leah. I know there’s history here.”
“Your dad stole the place from mine.”
She just never stopped with this argument. He glanced into the woods and wondered if he could convince whatever was in there to scurry on out and eat him so he could get out of this conversation. He was willing to try anything at this point.
He gave repetition one last shot. “Charlie never owned this property or lived here. Hell, I’m not sure he even stayed overnight.” Good ‘ole Dad wasn’t exactly the staying type whether you were talking about houses, families or the right side of the law.
She waved the comment off. “Irrelevant.”
And like that his fury burst into a fireball again. His back teeth slammed together. “Gotta tell you it’s not easy to argue with a person who refuses to listen to reason.”
She folded her arms over her stomach. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
“Goodnight, Leah.” He turned to head across the lawn, skipping the zigzagging covert moves this time. No, he wanted her to watch him walk away. Maybe take a hint.
Her voice stopped him.
“Give me a real number and we’ll talk.” A shaky rush of words now replaced her rough tone.
He looked at her, ready to fire back . . . then he saw her wild eyes and arms wrapped so hard across her middle that he worried she’d hurt herself. Whatever had her poking and fighting went deeper than a simple dislike of Charlie.
Instead of cutting her off, a different comment rushed up his throat. “I’ll think about it.”
He wanted to call back the words as soon as they were out. Letting her think there was an opening made him a total ass. She needed to understand where his head was, but he wasn’t sure she could hear him now anyway. Or that’s the excuse he used when his gaze bounced off hers and the hope he saw there.
“Really?”
“I’ll meet you at the diner tomorrow morning at eight.” He’d figure out the right words by then and put them in the right order to end this. He owed it to his brothers to bring any real sales offers to them. No matter what he wanted, they were in this together. Their grandmother’s surprise will saw to that.
Leah’s mouth dropped open as the grip of her arms loosened and her hands fell to her sides. “Good grief, why? We don’t need food to work this out. Two people and a calculator should do it.”
“Again, a brushup on your negotiation skills wouldn’t be a waste of time. Cut out the screaming or threatening and skipping the trespassing would be a good start.”
“Answer the question.”
“I’ll sleep on it and we’ll talk then.” When he tried to walk away a second time, she grabbed onto his arm. Her cold fingers touched against his skin and he had to fight the urge to wrap an arm around her for warmth.
“Not the diner and Sunday instead of tomorrow,” she said.
“You have a date?” And why did the possibility kind of piss him off?
“We need an alternative meeting place.”
Now she had his attention. So did the raccoon the size of a small car that was ambling toward them. “Something wrong with the food at the diner?”
“You still have my number?”
“Somewhere. Why?” He gave the critter the side eye then stomped his foot to send it running. It probably would have worked if the raccoon knew he was supposed to be afraid and run. Instead, it found a log and sat down. Looked like Leah wasn’t the only bossy trespasser around here.
“Text me and I’ll send you my address.”
She didn’t look like she was joking. At this point, he wasn’t convinced she knew how. “Excuse me?”
“We’ll meet at my place.”
His mind went blank for a second. When his brain rebooted, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. “I never know where your mind is going to go or what you’re going to say.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She added to her point with a men-are-so-dumb eye roll. “You come over, have coffee, we reach a deal and no one from town has to see us together.”
“So, this is about not being seen with me.”
“Of course.”
Of course. “I’m not sure how to respond to that. Once my ego recovers, I’ll let you know.”
“Just don’t be late.”
This time he was walking away. He had to before this conversation veered off in a new direction. And it was his turn to have the last word. Had to be by now. “You’re still on my property.”
He’d made it about five steps before he heard her amused voice. “I was here first.”
A smart man knew when to keep walking, so he did.
Chapter Five
It was as if the man had a magnet in his ass.
If Declan ventured from the house, she seemed to find him and stumble over him. This time at the gas station. Leah had been singing off-key to a song on the radio and generally trying not to think about her meeting with him tomorrow night and she conjured him up. She’d postponed the meeting to Sunday to have a day away from him and to put her argument together. So much for planning.
She had seriously considered riding around on an empty gas tank over pulling in next to him. But Bob, the owner of the mini-mart stepped out and her cover was blown. She turned off the ignition and stared out the front window. It was either that or glance over and see those faded jeans and that impressive butt, the same one on full view as Declan bent over the hood of his truck. Clearly the Hanover gene pool excelled in the looks department.
She opened the door, keeping her eye on him the entire time. The goal was to sneak along the side of the car, play it cool and get the hell out of there. She got to the tank and whipped the cap off.
He cleared his throat. “I can see you, you know.”
Well, damn. “I know how this looks.”
He walked over and lifted the gas nozzle for her and started pumping her ga
s. “Like you have a significant stalker issue? Lucky for you I’m not the litigious type. I’m also not convinced I want you to go away.”
The move was so natural and non-threatening that she stepped back and let him do it. She tried to remember if any man had ever offered to pump her gas or just done it to be helpful. If this was part of some elaborate con to prove he was decent, she understood why men like Charlie were so successful. The moves worked. The charm reeled you in and you got hooked.
His words finally registered. “Wait . . . what?”
“Nothing.”
She reached for the hose. “I can get that.”
He set the lock and let the meter click as the tank filled. “It’s under control.”
“Are you going to pay for it, too?”
“If you need me to.”
Oh, lord, that smile. With the body and the face it amounted to a triple punch to a woman’s control. Smashed her common sense into a million pieces.
Much more of this and she’d be making him dinner. “Should I be worried?”
“About?” He put his hands in his front pockets. The move lifted his tee and showed off that sexy tattoo again.
Why couldn’t he have a duck or a naked woman or something totally unappealing? “You being nice to me.”
“Maybe I’m a nice guy.”
That was starting to be her concern. If he was who he appeared to be, then all those years of running around and investigating were a waste of time. Worse, her father would never accept news of a good-guy Hanover and she’d get stuck between the men and infuriate her father when she refused to ruin Declan. Not a battle she relished.
“Don’t sound so impressed with yourself,” she said, her voice more gruff than intended because of the thoughts running through her head.
He gave his eyes and neck an exaggerated roll. “We’re not going to fight, are we? Because I haven’t had my coffee yet and think I may need caffeine to do battle with you.”