The Southern Comfort Series Box Set

by Clark O'Neill, Lisa

  “So how are you? How’s Rick?” Kathleen asked.

  To Sadie’s horror her bottom lip started to tremble. “He’s not… we’re not…” She gestured vaguely to her ring-less finger.

  One look at her friend’s face had Kathleen’s eyes shooting fire. “Is there an investment banker somewhere in Denver that I need to hunt down?”

  And like all the times past when Sadie’s heart had been aching, Kathleen’s unwavering loyalty made everything better. “I thought your job was to put killers in jail, not join their ranks.”

  “Yeah, well. It’s scumbag season and I haven’t quite filled my quota.”

  Sadie’s spirits lifted, the weight of her previous uncertainty sliding off her shoulders. It was so damn good to be home. “While that may be, you can save yourself the airfare, because I walked out on Rick.”

  “No shit?” Kathleen asked, brow raising.

  “No shit.”

  “Well I’m pretty sure that calls for a drink. I never liked him much anyway.”

  Kathleen wrapped a supportive arm around her shoulder and steered her toward the bar.

  “So do we hate all men or just want to shamelessly use them for their bodies?” she asked as they bellied up.

  “Um, neither?” Sadie said on a little laugh. She knew that she couldn’t hold anyone else in contempt – let alone a whole gender – just because she’d allowed one man to damage her self-esteem. And really, that was at least as much her fault as Rick’s. Presenting a widely edited version of herself hadn’t been honest or fair to either one of them. “Right now I’d really just like a beer.”

  “That,” Kathleen nodded with approval, “can be arranged.” Then she raised a hand to grab her brothers’ attention.

  And Sadie’s heart gave a little flip. The last time she’d seen the twins they’d been thirteen-year-old hellions in ill-fitting suits, awkwardly avoiding eye contact across the fresh dirt of her grandmother’s grave. The two frighteningly attractive men whose piercing gazes both turned her way surely could not be the same obnoxious boys who’d driven her crazy.

  Well, Declan had driven her crazy. Rogan actually hadn’t been all that bad, other than helping Declan set mice loose in her bedroom one night and hogging the mint chip ice cream before she and Kathleen could get to it. They’d always been like… flip sides of a coin, she guessed. Impossibly connected, yet opposite.

  With no doubt which one was tails.

  But nonetheless, those boys bore no discernible resemblance to the men that appeared before her. They’d been skinny and dirty all the time, unruly hair always in their eyes, and their feet seemed far too huge to ever grow into them.

  But they’d clearly managed the trick. Apart from hair that still seemed a bit unmanageable there was nothing left of the skinny boys they’d been. They were tall and broad-shouldered and a rough kind of gorgeous that put her in mind of something primitive. One had shoulder length hair caught back in a ponytail – a deeper brown now, though still shot with subtle hints of red – and one shorter locks but a rather intriguing goatee. Green Murphy’s Tshirts pulled taut over hard muscles, the kind gained from manual labor rather than three hours a week at a gym. Both of them looked sort of… menacing. The kind of men you didn’t want to meet in a dark alley.

  Or maybe the kind you did.

  And what was she doing, sitting here drooling over the first attractive men she’d seen? And these were Kathleen’s little brothers, mind you. She’d grown up with these two, damn it. They were basically, almost, relatives. Not some man candy for her to be ogling. Feeling disgusted with herself as the one with the goatee sauntered over, a white bar towel over his shoulder, Sadie noted he looked both bored and a little bit pissed.

  Declan, she thought, sniffing. She’d bet anything.

  “What?” he asked Kathleen flatly.

  “A Smithwick’s for our special visitor.”

  Goatee eyed her skeptically, apparently failing to see why she should be special, then started off toward the taps before whipping his head back around.

  He stared for a good twenty seconds in a way that had gooseflesh popping out on her skin. Then a slow-dawning smile transformed his face and she caught a glimpse of the skinny boy inside the man. Suddenly she was twelve years old again, backed against an oak tree.

  She angled her chin in unconscious challenge.

  “I don’t believe it,” he said finally. “If it isn’t little Sadie Rose Mayhew, all grown up.” His eyes flicked toward her breasts. “Sort of,” he amended, the smile lurching to a crooked grin.

  Any doubt she might have harbored as to this twin’s identity was extinguished by the sudden tide of ire. “Declan Murphy,” she said coolly, in counterpoint to the heat creeping up her neck, “I see you’ve matured not one whit.”

  His bark of amused laughter caused Kathleen’s brow to raise and brought a swamped Rogan to see what was happening. “Glad you’re all having a good time over here, but we’ve got customers expecting…”

  His words trailed off and he regarded her blankly. Then, as with his brother, recognition dawned. The deep lake-blue eyes that were so much nicer than the other idiot’s crinkled in a welcoming smile. “Sadie!” he said delightedly, elbowing Declan out of the way so that he could hobble around the corner of the bar. Sadie noted a soft-sided walking cast surrounding his right foot and recalled Kathleen’s e-mail regarding a bad accident he’d been involved in last summer – something terrible involving another man’s attempted kidnapping of their cousin Tate’s five-year-old son. He drew close, smelling pleasantly of male sweat and soap and just a hint of strong whiskey, and planted a friendly kiss smack dab on her lips. Sadie was relieved to feel nothing the least bit sexual.

  Ignoring his lesser half, who was still smirking on the other side of the bar top, she regarded him with open affection.

  “Rogan.” She tugged his ponytail in a teasing gesture. It was quite a reach, now, as he’d grown almost a full foot taller since the last time she’d seen him, to an inch or two over six feet. “All those times Kathleen and I tried to play beauty-shop with you, and you finally grow some decent hair.”

  Rogan groaned, no doubt recalling one particularly unpleasant experience with some bows and a large can of Aqua-Net. “Let’s not talk about that in mixed company, shall we?” He stepped back, looked her up and down. “You grew up good, Sadie. I’ll try to forgive you for doing it in Colorado.” He gave her shoulder a purely fraternal squeeze. “How long do we have the pleasure?”

  Sadie shot a look at Kathleen. She hadn’t quite had a chance to discuss this part with her. “Permanently.” The word seemed to stick on her tongue. “This is more of a move than an actual visit.”

  Amidst a chorus of “That’s great!” and a lot of head patting and back slapping, a droll voice rang out.

  “So the hotshot dumped you, did he?”

  A weighty silence fell around their happy cluster. Sadie turned slowly, bristling, all her pent-up frustration finally finding an outlet.

  Declan leaned insolently on the polished-copper-penny surface of the bar, expression just this side of bored. Except for the evil flicker in his eye.

  “Actually I killed him and buried him in the garden.” She grabbed the beer from his surprised hand. “So I’d advise you not to piss me off.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  IN retrospect, taunting a jilted female probably hadn’t been the best idea. Poke a wounded animal, after all, and you’re likely to get bitten. But he’d been yanking Sadie’s chain basically since infancy and old habits were the hardest to break. It was like… Pavlov’s dog, almost. He’d been conditioned to want to mess with Sadie.

  And besides, seeing her again had stirred up feelings he didn’t want to think about, so he’d fallen back on his failsafe and acted like an ass.

  At least that’s what his brother told him. But then Rogan was unfailingly thoughtful, and Declan tried his damndest not to think much about anybody.

  Thinking led to introspection and i
ntrospection led to things he didn’t know how to deal with, so he just went on being an asshole and everyone left him the hell alone.

  But damn, she’d been something, hadn’t she? Just as angelic looking as he remembered: that whitish-blonde hair fluffing like feathers around her face and those wide blue eyes all sweet and innocent.

  Of course, the whole thing was a crock. She was about as sweet as a mouthful of vinegar. He’d always gotten a rush out of bringing out her temper, and fifteen years hadn’t lessened the fun one bit. Hard to believe it had been that long since he’d seen her. There’d been Christmas cards exchanged over the years, the odd phone call here and there, but it just wasn’t the same as being with her in the flesh.

  Not that he’d given her all that much thought over the years, or anything. Only when Kathleen mentioned her. Or whenever he saw a snake.

  Sometimes when he was working in his mother’s rose garden.

  Then there was that time the storm had taken down the branch that held the old tree house.

  And some youthful dreams that he wouldn’t admit to, even under pain of torture. About the age of ten, creating situations where she’d be forced into kissing him became one of his major life objectives.

  But there was no question that her leaving had ripped a hole in the fabric of his childhood. And it kept unraveling day by day until he had no childhood left. He hadn’t been a child since New Year’s Day fourteen years ago.

  The day he’d killed his mother.

  Pushing that particular snake pit of thought to the Outer Mongolia region of his brain, Declan eyed Sadie as he maneuvered a fresh keg into place. She was perched daintily at one of the high tables across the room, tucked next to the fire – which brought the temperature in the bar to something approaching a blast furnace but which his father insisted on for “ambiance” – chatting away with Kathleen, drinking beer and doing her best to ignore him.

  Little Miss Muffett enjoying her barley and hops and turning a cold shoulder to the spider. Of course, he’d seen her periodically darting killing glances his way, and whenever he caught her at it he waved.

  Declan tried not to wonder why such juvenile theatrics were giving him the best time he’d had in ages, opting instead to just go with the flow of the evening and catch his jollies where he could.

  Especially considering it was New Year’s Eve.

  Snake pit.

  He stopped himself from falling into it just in time. After all, there were twenty-four hours in which to torture himself tomorrow.

  After hooking up the new keg, Declan grabbed a terry-cloth towel from behind the bar and began drying his hands. The towel was already soggy, because it had been that kind of night, so he chucked it and wiped his hands on his jeans.

  His eyes drifted over toward Sadie.

  That crack he’d made about her being not quite grown up wasn’t anywhere near accurate. True, she was the size of your average middle schooler and the small breasts pushing against the soft cotton of her top weren’t what anyone could define as voluptuous. But there was no question she was a woman. Her crossed legs pulled her jeans tight over cute little buns, and that mouth she’d been smarting off with looked like it belonged on a high-priced hooker.

  That rich dude she’d walked out on must be hating life about now. Declan should have known she’d be the one to do the jilting. A temperamental, feisty woman like Sadie took a certain kind of man to handle her, and the banker obviously hadn’t been up to the task. She probably walked all over him with her sparkly little shoes. Lord knew she’d always stood up to Dec, and he’d tormented the hell out of her growing up.

  Yes, he’d learned right off the bat that those baby-doll looks belied a tiger – all sweet and cuddly until you turned your back and then Bam! – you had teeth marks on your ass.

  Not that it wouldn’t be worth it.

  He’d just have to sink in his teeth right back.

  And hell, what was he doing, standing here entertaining prurient thoughts about Sadie Rose Mayhew? Declan had few rules regarding whom he spent time with between the sheets, provided they were attractive, legal, and not currently married, but one thing he did know was that going down that road with such a close family friend was pretty much asking for a fatal collision. One of them definitely wouldn’t survive.

  And since he didn’t do relationships, it was pretty clear who that would be.

  His family already had enough reasons to think he was an asshole without adding a hit and run on Sadie to the list. So as entertaining as this had been, it was time to apply the brakes. As kids, they’d been flint and tinder. But they were grownups now, and setting off sparks was just a real good excuse to get burned.

  Satisfied that he’d come to his senses, Declan turned his attention toward getting ready for last call.

  SADIE felt his eyes singing her back like hot ash flicked from a cigarette. He’d always known just how to rile her. Lines drawn in the sand, battlements fortified, it seemed the war between the two of them was back on. She’d like to think she’d matured beyond this, but his implication that she’d run home, tail tucked between her legs because Rick somehow hadn’t found her worth marrying…

  Sadie took another drink.

  “Sadie?” Kathleen asked, and she struggled to bring her friend’s face back into focus. Beer was more potent than she remembered. “I was just asking you about your housing plans. You know you’re welcome to stay with me as long as you like.”

  “Oh.” Sadie waved a hand, and Kathleen grabbed her water glass before it went tumbling over. “Don’t you worry about putting yourself out. There’s a renter staying over at my grandma’s place, but his lease is up the day after tomorrow. Or, tomorrow, actually. The rental agent’s been trying to contact him to see if he wanted to renew the lease, but I called and told her not to bother. I’m moving in after he gets his stuff out.”

  “Sadie, has the, uh, property manager actually sent you any… photos of the place recently?”

  Even through the haze of alcohol, Sadie sensed things weren’t quite kosher. “Why?” she asked sharply.

  “It’s just that…” her friend’s eyebrows drew together. “It might not look exactly like you remember. Why don’t you just crash with me for a while?”

  Sadie had a brief, horrifying vision of her grandma’s house as a crack den. Stained mattresses in the living room, graffiti defacing the white board walls…

  She shook her head. Rental houses took a beating she knew, but Sadie doubted it was a hotbed of criminal activity. After all, Mr. Murphy still lived next door.

  And regardless, it was hers, so she’d just have to make the best of it. “My luggage is already over at that new hotel on the harbor. I planned on staying there for a couple of days until I got the house situation figured out. I’m already checked in and it’s already paid for, so don’t get your feathers ruffled. I don’t want any of y’all to feel obligated to house an unexpected guest.”

  She smiled and reached for her beer, but when she wasn’t looking Kathleen had moved it.

  “I think it might be time for me to drive you to your hotel.”

  Sadie was wavering between her last vestige of common sense and protest when Kathleen jerked and looked down at her hip.

  “Crap,” she muttered, clicking a little button to check the number on her phone. “I knew it was too good to last. Excuse me, Sadie, but I have to take this call.”

  Sadie tried to act casual and not listen in, but the truth was she was pretty agog. Knowing Kathleen was a detective and actually seeing her in action were two entirely different things. Kathleen had always been a tomboy, and the first to volunteer for whatever crazy plan the neighborhood boys had hatched, but being a cop – let alone a homicide detective – had to be difficult given the fact that much of the south still tended to be a good old boys’ club. It reminded her of something she’d always admired about her friend – Kathleen never backed down from a challenge.

  Sadie glanced across the room, eyes landing on Dec
lan. And hoped she would manage to find the steel in her own spine again, because coming back home might prove to be more challenging than she thought.

  KATHLEEN listened to her partner, Mac Washington, relay the fact that they had a John Doe who’d been found dead in a BP restroom. There was a crowd gathered and some reporters already on the scene so she was needed ASAP.

  “Be there in ten,” she said with a sigh, ending the call and glancing at Sadie. She would like to have been able to drop her at her hotel on the way, but the harbor was located in the opposite direction. Weighing the options quickly, she made her way to the edge of the bar.

  “What?” Declan barked, after she’d caught his attention. He moved slowly to the corner where she was standing, a familiar scowl forming a line between his eyebrows as he deposited the tray of empties he’d been gathering. The good mood he’d been in since Sadie walked in seemed to have dissipated as quickly as it appeared.

  Well tough shit, she needed him to do her a favor. “Run Sadie over to that new hotel on the harbor. I got called in so there’s no way I can do it.”

  Incredulity replaced the scowl. “Like she’s incapable of getting there herself? She knows this city almost as well as you and I do. And I need to be here to help close.”

  Kathleen clenched her fists to keep from reaching across the bar and throttling him. “She’s wasted, Declan. I want to be sure one of us sees her there safely. Rogan can’t drive with that cast on his ankle and you know that Dad’s restricted from driving at night.”

  “So call a –”

  “Don’t you dare suggest I call a cab. It’s not going to kill you to drive five minutes across town.”

  “I don’t know. Did you check her purse for weapons?”

  Kathleen didn’t even bother to address that. “Just do it, Dec. I won’t let anyone know you put yourself out. God forbid somebody start thinking that you’re human.”