“You want to meet her?” Kevin asked.
“Sure.”
Why not? His brother had been born wild. Nash figured any woman strong enough to tie Kevin down had to be an amazing combination of sin and steel.
“We’re staying at a bed-and-breakfast in town.”
Kevin named the street and Nash realized it was the one he’d been on a few minutes ago.
“I’m about two miles away,” he said. “I’ll be right over.”
“A minister’s daughter?” Nash said as he stared at Kevin.
His fraternal twin grinned. “Not what you expected?”
“Not even close. What happened to all bad girls all the time?”
His brother shrugged. “I met Haley.”
“That had to have been some meeting.”
Kevin grinned. “It was.”
He motioned to the parlor just to the left of the foyer, then led the way into the formally furnished room. Nash glanced around, noting that this B and B seemed larger and more elegant than Stephanie’s. There were crystal chandeliers and some kind of tapestries on the wall. Her place was more homey.
Kevin limped to a long, high-backed sofa in a rich floral print. As he settled onto the cushions, he rubbed his thigh.
Nash took a chair on the opposite side of the coffee table. “You’ve seen a doctor for that, right?”
“When it happened and again back home. I’m healing. In another few weeks I’ll be back to normal, but until then it aches from time to time. I know I’m lucky. The bullet missed the bone.”
What he didn’t say was if it had hit eighteen inches higher and a little to the left, he wouldn’t have made it at all. Nash didn’t like to think of anything bad happening to his brother.
“I thought you promised we weren’t going to have to worry about you anymore,” he said.
Kevin shrugged. “If I hadn’t drawn the short straw, I would have been in Florida on a drug bust instead of delivering a prisoner. It wasn’t my fault.” He grinned. “Not that I’m complaining. If I hadn’t been in Kansas, I wouldn’t have met Haley.”
“A minister’s daughter,” Nash repeated. “I still can’t believe it. So where did you two hook up? Church?”
“A bar.”
The answer came from the doorway. Nash turned and saw a young woman walking into the parlor. As he stood he saw she was of medium height, with short fluffy blond hair and hazel eyes. She was pretty enough, curvy, dressed in a snug T-shirt and shorts. His gaze automatically went to her bare legs and he waited for the kind of reaction he’d experienced when he’d seen that sliver of Stephanie’s stomach that morning.
Nothing.
Which didn’t make sense. If he hadn’t had sex in forever and he was finally starting to feel something, why didn’t Haley ring any bells?
“You must be Nash,” Haley said as she approached. She tilted her head. “Wow—you’re tall, like Kevin, and really nice-looking. The same dark hair and dark eyes, but you don’t look very much alike.” She wrinkled her nose. “What is it with this gene pool? Aren’t any of you going to be fat or balding or at least kind of unattractive?”
Kevin beamed at his fiancée. He wrapped an arm around her and brushed a kiss against her temple. “Haley speaks her mind. You’ll get used to it.”
“If not, I’m sure you’re polite enough not to say anything to my face,” Haley said cheerfully.
She sank onto the sofa, pulling Kevin next to her. Nash sat down, as well. After linking hands with Kevin, Haley leaned forward and studied Nash.
“I’m really excited about the whole brother-in-law thing,” she told him. “I’m an only child. I had way too many mothers, but no siblings. I always wanted other kids around. Some of it was to take the heat off me. I mean I couldn’t even think bad thoughts. It’s like everyone could read my mind. How awful is that? Okay, sometimes it was really great to have so many people worrying about me, but it could be stifling, too.”
Kevin bumped her shoulder with his. “Slow down. You’re going to scare Nash off. He’s not the sociable twin.”
Her gaze became as penetrating as a laser. “Really.”
Nash shifted uncomfortably. “Congratulations on your engagement,” he said in an effort to distract her. “If Kevin wasn’t completely honest about his past, I’d be happy to fill in the details.”
Haley giggled with delight. “Ooh, stories about when Kevin was bad. He’s told me a few things, but not about the women. There had to be dozens, right? Hundreds, even?”
Now Kevin was the one squirming in his seat. “Haley, you know everything important. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “Isn’t he the best? I can’t wait to get married. Speaking of which, are you dating, Nash?”
Kevin stood and pulled Haley to her feet. “I think you’ve terrorized my brother long enough.”
“What?” she asked as she put her hands on her hips. “What did I say?”
He gave her a little push. “I won’t be long.”
“Did I upset you?” she asked Nash.
He stood. “Not at all. From what I can tell, you’re exactly what my brother needs in his life.”
“Ha.” She tossed her head and walked out of the room. “I’ll be upstairs,” she called back. “Planning the wedding. A really big wedding.”
“Have fun,” Kevin said, then flopped back on the sofa. “She’s a handful.”
Nash sat down. “Interesting young woman.”
“I think so. She’s smart, funny, fearless. She gives with her whole heart. I’m still learning how to do that, but she makes it so damn easy to love her.”
Had that been the problem? Nash wondered. Had Tina not been easy to love? Had the work got in the way?
“Enough about me,” his brother said. “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” Nash said. “Great.”
Kevin didn’t look convinced. “I didn’t think it was possible to pry you away from work.”
Nash shrugged, rather than admit the vacation hadn’t been his idea. “I’m here, ready to meet the family.”
“Yeah, right.” Kevin’s expression turned serious. “You’ve always been quiet, but since Tina died, it’s been worse than usual. Are you coming out of that?”
As Nash had never been willing to acknowledge what he felt about his wife’s death, he didn’t know if he’d recovered or not. Still it was easier to say “Sure. I’m doing great.”
His brother shook his head. “You still blame yourself. It was never your fault.”
“Whose fault was it?”
“Maybe no one’s. Maybe it just happened.”
“Not on my watch.”
“You can’t control everything.”
Nash knew. The realization was one of the reasons he’d stopped sleeping, stopped eating, stopped living. But knowing that didn’t seem to change anything.
“Tell me about the Haynes family,” he said to change the subject.
Kevin continued to watch him for a couple of seconds, then nodded, as if agreeing to the tactic. “The couple I’ve met have been good men. They’re as surprised by all this as we are, but friendly enough.” He smiled. “They’re all cops.”
Nash knew there were four brothers and a sister. “You’re kidding.”
“No. They’re all—” He broke off and laughed. “Wait. I forgot. One of them is a rebel. He’s a firefighter.”
Which wasn’t the same as being a cop, but it was close. Kevin was a U.S. Marshal, Gage a sheriff. Nash worked for the FBI and Quinn, well, Quinn walked his own road.
“It’s in the blood,” he said.
Kevin nodded. “That’s what they’re telling m
e. Earl Haynes was sheriff of this town for years. He has a bunch of brothers and they’re all in law enforcement. Maybe we’re following our destiny.”
Destiny? Nash didn’t believe in that kind of crap. He’d gone to work for the FBI because he’d been recruited out of college. Of all the offers he’d received, it was the one that had appealed the most.
“I’ve seen Gage,” Kevin said. “We’ve known him and Quinn all our lives, played together, fought, made up. I’m having trouble getting that we were always brothers.”
“We acted like brothers,” Nash said. “Still, I’m with you. I figured we were good friends, nothing more.”
Did the new knowledge change anything? He wasn’t sure.
“The dinner tomorrow night is going to be a zoo,” Kevin said. “The guys, their wives and kids. If I can pull together lunch with just a few of the brothers are you interested?”
“Sure.” Nash didn’t like crowds.
Kevin jerked his head toward the ceiling. “There are a few empty rooms. Want to come stay here?”
“I’m okay where I am.”
“You sure?”
He knew Kevin thought he was avoiding contact with the world, but that wasn’t it at all. If his brother pressed him he would say that packing and unpacking was a pain, which was a lie, but would get him off the hook. The truth was something else. For the first time in two years, he’d actually felt a glimmer of interest in something other than work. He knew his sexual stirrings and physical hunger didn’t mean anything, but he was intrigued enough to want to stick around and see what happened next.
Nash hung out with Kevin and Haley until early afternoon, then headed back to Serenity House. When he entered the high-ceilinged foyer, he hesitated, not sure what to do with the rest of his day. As much as he wanted to check in with the office, he knew it was too soon. Calling now would simply prove his boss’s point.
He walked through the dining room and into the kitchen. The tidy room was empty. He strolled into the hallway and listened. There was only silence. A quick check of the garage told him what he’d suspected. He was alone.
The knowledge should have relieved him. He didn’t like a lot of company, preferring solitude to vapid chatter. He liked the quiet. Only not today. Right now he felt restless and out of place. It was as if his skin had suddenly gotten too small.
He turned toward the stairs and took three steps, then stopped. He didn’t want to read or watch TV. He considered another long drive, but that didn’t appeal to him. Finally, in desperation for a distraction, he moved into the back of the house.
In the utility room he found the washer still in pieces. He opened the lid and stared at the tub full of clothes and water, then studied the dial. After skimming the manual, he figured out the washer had stopped right before the spin cycle. He pushed aside the parts and tools, then settled on the floor. There was a schematic of the interior of the machine, along with a parts list. Nash laid the diagram flat on the floor and began sorting through tools and parts.
Over an hour later, Nash had found the problem and, he hoped, fixed it. He’d just started on reassembling the machine when he heard a door slam in the house. The wrench he’d been holding dropped to the floor.
He swore good-naturedly as he picked it up. If he was dropping tools in anticipation of seeing Stephanie, he was in even more trouble than he’d first thought. Finding her sexy was one thing, but actual nerves weren’t allowed.
He turned as the footsteps approached, but instead of the petite blonde he’d been expecting, a boy stepped into the room.
Nash remembered the other two kids had been younger and identical twins. So this one would be Stephanie’s oldest. He offered a smile.
“Hi, there.”
The boy didn’t smile back. He folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes as he studied Nash. “You’re not the repair guy.”
“You’re right. I’m Nash Harmon. I’m a guest here.”
Nash wiped his hand on a paper towel and held it out. The boy hesitated, then slowly offered his own hand.
“Brett Wynne.”
They shook slowly. Nash had the feeling he was being given the once-over and judging from Brett’s expression, he wasn’t measuring up.
“Why are you messing with our washer?” Brett asked. “Guests aren’t supposed to do that sort of thing. If you break it worse, Mom’s gonna be real mad. Plus it’ll cost more to fix.”
The boy looked to be about eleven or twelve. Tall and skinny, with light blond hair and blue eyes like his mother. Of course his father could have had blue eyes, too.
He looked hostile, protective and painfully young. No kid that age should have to feel as if he was all that stood between his family and a hostile world.
Nash carefully set the wrench on the ground. Brett’s fierce scowl and hostile words brought back memories from a long time ago. Back when Nash had felt he was the one responsible for making sure his mom and brother were safe. The accompanying feelings weren’t comfortable.
“You have a point,” he said quietly. “I am a guest here. The thing is, this morning the battery was dead on my rental car, so your mom gave me a jump. I wanted to pay her back for that. She’d been working on the washer when I found her and asked her to help me. She’s a real classy lady, so I knew she wouldn’t let me pay her. That’s when I thought of the washer.”
Brett’s expression softened a little, but he didn’t look a whole lot more welcoming. “What if you break it worse?”
“Then I’ll pay for the repairs. The point of doing someone a favor is to make her life easier, not more difficult.” He casually cleared some space on the vinyl floor covering. “I’m pretty sure I figured out what was wrong with the machine.”
“Yeah?” Brett sounded skeptical. “Show me.”
Nash scooted back to give the kid a clear view of the machine. “That part back there came loose, which meant this section moved forward. These two pieces got in the way, and this one ended up a little bent.”
Brett crouched down and stared as Nash pointed to the problem areas. He explained what he’d done so far and how he was now putting the machine back together.
“I’ll stop if you want,” he said.
Brett sank onto the floor. His blue eyes widened in surprise. “You mean if I say not to do any more you won’t?”
“That’s right.”
Brett glanced from the washer to Nash and back. “I guess it would be okay for you to finish up. Maybe you haven’t made it worse.”
High praise, Nash thought, holding in a grin. “Want to help me?”
“Yeah.” Brett sounded eager. Then he gave a shrug. “I mean I’m not doing anything else right now.”
Nash handed him the wrench and showed him where to tighten the edge of the casing. “Turn that there.”
Fifteen minutes later, the washer was nearly back in one piece. Brett had given up being distant and sullen and now bombarded Nash with questions.
“How’d you figure out what had happened? You ever take a washer apart before?”
“When I was a teenager,” Nash told him. “With computer chips and electronics a lot of home appliances are getting pretty complicated, but this washer’s older. That made it easier to see what was wrong. Your mom had already taken it apart. I just poked around.”
He didn’t mention that Stephanie had been trying a combination of guilt and physical abuse on the old machine. Thinking about how she’d stopped to kick it as she’d walked out of the room that morning made him smile.
“My bike chain came off once,” Brett said. “I got it back on and tightened up some stuff, but I guess that’s not the same.”
“You’re pretty mechanical,” Nash told the kid. “You handle these tools well.”
Brett pretended noncha
lance. “I know.”
Just then someone cleared her throat. Nash glanced over his shoulder and saw Stephanie standing in the doorway to the utility room. The twins were right behind her, peering at him from either side of her hips. She didn’t look happy.
“I know you’re trying to help, Mr. Harmon, but this isn’t your responsibility.”
Before Nash could speak, Brett scrambled to his feet.
“It’s okay, Mom. I think Nash really fixed it. He knows about machines and stuff. We’re just putting it back together. Let’s test it.”
Stephanie’s doubt was as clear as her frown. “Brett, the washer isn’t a toy.”
“Good thing,” Nash said as he stood and looked down at her. “Because I wasn’t playing.”
Chapter 3
Had she already mentioned that the man was tall? Stephanie had to tilt her head back to meet Nash’s dark gaze. Once her eyes locked on to his, she didn’t think an earthquake would be enough to break the connection between them.
What exactly was the appeal? His chiseled good looks? The hint of sadness even when he smiled? A body big enough and muscled enough to make him the most popular guy in a “drawing the human form” class? Her sex-free existence? That voice?
I wasn’t playing.
She knew what he’d meant when he spoke the words. He wasn’t playing at being Mr. Repair. He was just trying to help. But she wanted him to mean something else. She wanted him to mean that he thought she was sexy, mysterious and, seeing as this was her personal fantasy, irresistible. She wanted him to mean he wasn’t playing with her. He wanted it to be real, too.
Yeah, that and a nod from a genie would miraculously get the piles of laundry clean, too.
“Stephanie? Are you all right?”
Good question.
“Fine.”
She forced herself to look away from his face and focus her attention on the nearly assembled washer. The scattered tools on the floor were enough to remind her of Marty, who had loved to play at fixing things. He knew just enough to be dangerous to both himself and her monthly budget. Like she needed that kind of trouble again.
One in a Million Page 3
