The Enforcer
Page 12
She studied him. Her gaze roamed all over him while the fury pounded off her. “I’m leaving.”
So fucking stubborn. He reached for her, thought somehow that might help him get through to her, but then quickly discounted the thought. She may as well have a do-not-touch sign flashing above her head.
He fell back on reason. “You’re still in danger. Here, I can protect you.”
“And who protects me from you?” She glanced around him to Garrett. “You?”
The slight sliced through Matthias. He guessed that was exactly what she intended. “I know you’re upset—”
“You figured that out?”
“The yelling clued me in.” Before she could shoot back another response, he talked faster. “Let us finish collecting evidence and set up the surveillance to catch the person on video.”
“Because when you figure out the truth you’ll turn in your client and stop collecting a paycheck? Spare me.”
She just wouldn’t stop with this. “The money issue is a big concern for you, but since it’s not real I’m going to ignore it and keep doing what I’m doing.”
“Which is?”
“Trying to help you, believe it or not.” He’d never met any human being who could outstubborn him. Until her.
“It’s probably hard for her to tell that since you’re both screaming.” Garrett picked up his water bottle and approached them. “It’s annoying, by the way.”
Her gaze bounced back and forth between the men. “I’ll stay but I get the bed.” She focused on Matthias. “You can sleep in the hall for all I care.”
“It’s my room.”
She turned and walked through the doorway, but not before calling over her shoulder. “Maybe Nick’s mother will pay for another one for you.”
The endless sparring with her was going to kill him. “You’re exhausting.”
“Right back at ya, stud. And stay out of my café, too.” She slammed the door, cutting off anything else he might say.
Garrett stood there, staring at the closed door. “So, you handled that well.”
“She makes me crazed.” Matthias would have stormed into his room but she’d just start up again and he was done being accused of shit.
“Yep.”
Matthias didn’t find Garrett’s reaction all that reassuring. “I have a feeling it’s only going to get worse.”
“I’m pretty sure you can count on that, since she doesn’t know the mother part yet.”
It was Matthias’s turn to groan. “That’s just fucking great.”
Garrett laughed. “And for the record? You can’t have this bed either.”
Chapter 14
Kayla tried to work herself to death the next day. As ordered, Matthias stayed mostly outside. Garrett came in now and then, looking pathetic and ordering drinks and food. She seriously considered saying no. Toyed with the idea of telling Matthias to get back in his car and speed away. But something kept stopping her.
She’d known from the beginning his story didn’t ring true. Hell, he half admitted being there for her. She reran every conversation, struck by how carefully he chose his words to walk just this side of the line from being a full-out liar.
The weasel.
Now, about an hour after the usual lunch rush, the café had cleared out. The sun tucked behind a cloud and the world outside the window fell into a depressing gray. It seemed fitting to her.
She had a few takeout orders waiting for pickup. She expected more calls from business owners in and around the marina. A few more customers would likely stumble in. But for now she concentrated on cleaning the counter. She scrubbed until her fingers turned red and raw. Put all of her frustration into erasing every bit of grime. After she conquered that, she’d start on the floor. Anything to keep moving.
The bell above the café door dinged and she looked up. Lauren stood in the doorway. “Hey.”
Kayla couldn’t exactly question the openmouthed stare. It wasn’t as if she liked cleaning. She’d whined to Lauren more than once about this part of the job.
“If you scrub that any harder you might dig through the stone,” Lauren said in an amused voice.
That only made Kayla rub harder. “Sounds good to me.”
Lauren made it across the room in a few steps. “What’s going on?”
The sponge squeaked across the shiny surface. “Nothing.”
“Oh, my God, Kayla.” Lauren reached over and grabbed the sponge. “It’s easier to get answers when I talk to my television.”
“Good thing you’re not prone to exaggeration.” Kayla slumped back. She stood but she really had no idea how her legs still carried her.
She’d been in nonstop motion since she got up this morning in an effort to keep her mind clear. Thoughts had bombarded her all night. The anger had flowed over her and she’d flip-flopped all over the mattress with the things she should have said to Matthias. All the unanswered questions running through her mind.
“Sit.” Lauren threw the sponge into the small sink along the wall near the kitchen.
“Nice shot.”
“Talk.”
There was no ignoring Lauren now. Kayla didn’t even try. She plopped down on the barstool and tried to think of how much to say and if she should weigh the words. But seeing the concern in Lauren’s eyes convinced Kayla to just spit it out. If she wasn’t going to run—and she’d temporarily put that on hold thanks to Matthias—then she may as well nurture the one friendship she’d manage to hold on to and truly cared about.
“I was robbed.” That really didn’t cover it, but she figured it would get the conversation started. “Sort of.”
Lauren didn’t disappoint. Her hands came up and she gave Kayla a quick hug. Then another.
When she finally stepped back the worry was right there on her face. “What? When?”
Kayla touched the back of Lauren’s fingers and brought Lauren down on the seat next to her. “It happened last night.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Lauren’s voice sputtered out for a second. “I would have come over and done . . . something. At least been there for you.”
“I didn’t want—”
“Warning.” Lauren squeezed Kayla’s hand. “If the end of that sentence sounds anything like to disturb you I’m going to be furious.”
They huddled together on the barstools. After so many years of not sharing, of refusing to let anyone in out of fear of a fresh new hurt and an emotional scab that would never heal, of being so disappointed she couldn’t move, it felt good to at least say something. It was a small piece of information, not even really all that important, but it amounted to the one step forward she was desperate to take.
First Matthias. Now Lauren.
Kayla waited for the panic to overtake her and her brain to shut down. But it didn’t happen.
“It was weird and it all happened so fast.” That was probably an understatement.
“What did the police say?”
This was the harder part to explain. “Actually . . .”
Lauren wore one of her patented you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me frowns. “Please tell me you called the police. You need to file a report.”
“An investigator was there.”
Lauren’s head shot back and her eyes narrowed. “That is the most careful sentence anyone’s ever uttered.”
No kidding.
The bell above the door dinged a second time and a man walked in. Elliot Gardner six foot and lanky with a baby face. His smile was big and warm. And he wore the boating uniform—khaki shorts, polo shirt and deck shoes. Kayla was pretty sure some store handed that trio out at the Maryland border, because she saw it on almost every man in the area over the age of twenty.
Lauren had been thrilled to sign up Elliot. She said he was about thirty and determined to learn how to sail. Very enthusiastic and not a jerk. He paid her a significant fee and tipped well. That made him Lauren’s current favorite client. He’d retain that title so long as he never threw
up on her boat.
He glanced around the empty café before his gaze settled on Lauren. “Are you ready?”
She barely looked at him. “In a second.”
“It’s okay.” Kayla let go of Lauren’s hand and plastered on a big smile to welcome Elliot. “Is it time for another lesson?”
“I think I’m early.” He swallowed a wince as he started to back out of the empty café. “I can sit down outside for a few minutes if you guys need to talk.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Thank you,” Lauren said at the same time.
Elliot laughed. “Okay, I admit I’m not sure what the right answer is here.”
“Sorry about that.” Kayla stood up but stopped to give Lauren her most serious woman-to-woman get to work expression. “We’re good. We’ll talk tonight.”
“I’m not going to give you a choice.”
“Which is why I love you.” Kayla returned to her safe space behind the counter. From there she could serve coffee and get to everything easily. It also acted as a shield if she needed to fidget and have it go unnoticed or reach for her cell and dial Matthias or Garrett, numbers Matthias had added this morning while glaring at her, silently daring her to object. “So, Elliot, is this the second or third lesson?”
“Second.” He slipped a bottle out of his pocket. “I brought suntan lotion this time. Learned my lesson the hard way the first time around.”
Lauren jumped up, her professional sunny attitude back in check. “First rule of boating, Elliot.”
“You did warn me.”
Lauren shot Kayla a smile over her shoulder. “You heard him admit that.”
“I did.” The relaxed mood and Elliot’s enthusiasm were contagious. “Have fun.”
Elliot walked outside but Lauren hesitated at the door. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I am. I’ll see you tonight.”
The door hadn’t been closed two seconds before Matthias stalked in through the kitchen. Kayla heard him coming because his presence made Gerald shout. The cook served as the ultimate warning system.
Matthias nodded toward the closed front door as he walked into the room and stood next to her behind the counter. “Who was that?”
“People I know.”
He glanced down at her. “That’s not a helpful answer.”
“It does remind me that I need to add a few more names to that list.” She thought about Lauren’s clients and the part-time assistant and helpers that showed up at the marina for only a few hours at a time. Knowing Matthias, he’d want all of those.
“I need everyone who has been in and around the marina since you’ve been here.” He smiled. “Garrett’s tracking down the names of all the boat owners and slip renters right now. You should hear the whining.”
“I don’t blame him. That’s a lot of people.”
“When it comes to your safety I’ll err on the side of doing too much.”
She hated the lightness that burst through her when she saw him, as she listened to him. So annoying. And how was it possible he was even better looking today? The whole windblown-hair look suited him. The dress pants pulled tight across his hips also worked. Didn’t hurt that the low waist showed off his trim stomach and highlighted his chest.
But with the business attire he could not look more out of place if he tried. Drop him in DC and he’d be fine. Here, he looked like a salesman who’d taken a wrong turn somewhere near Virginia.
“I thought I banned you from the café.” Forget how happy she was to see him or how she’d looked through the back door all morning, sneaking peeks as he walked around the other businesses at the marina.
“I assumed the keep-out order was a joke.”
“Then why have you been standing outside and away from me most of the day?” During those same hours she spent most of her energy trying not to think about him.
“Watching my team.”
She expected a more exciting answer. “What?”
“See, you didn’t even notice them out there.” His gaze traveled to the cake on the stand by his elbow then to the individual homemade strawberry pies sitting right there.
She snapped her fingers in front of him to bring his attention back to her. “Did your boss get here yet?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Mary Patterson.” Sure, she felt a bit childish, but she had not forgotten last night. He needed to know that. “I figured she’d want to come and catch you in action. It would be good, since she tends to hide in the shadows. I’ve never actually met her, but I do have some things I’d like to say to her.”
He shook his head. “Are you done?”
“With what?”
He put a hand on the counter. The move brought his face closer to hers. “I came here for one reason but now I’m here to help. Do you get that?”
She refused to let his hotness charm her. “Me or her?”
“You are on fire today.”
“Can you really blame me? You tried to sell the whole you-look-so-sad-and-I’m-your-hero garbage.” Just thinking about that day made her want to smash the cake in his face. She’d been set up and lured in from the beginning.
“I never said anything like that.”
So stubborn. “Why are you inside right now? There’s a public bathroom at the end of the pier.”
“Clearly I’m here for your welcoming charm.”
She bit back a smile. “You’re not allowed to be angry.”
He had the nerve to shrug at her. “Okay.”
“Or cute.”
His eyebrows lifted. “You think I’m cute?”
“I’m serious, stop trying to be adorable or whatever this is. You were the one at fault last night.” She kept trying to conjure up the same level of anger that had ruined her night but the well refused to rise.
“Did I miss the part where you told me about the message on your wall and why you think it’s there?”
He certainly didn’t sound contrite. “Since you seem to know so much about my life already, I didn’t bother.”
“You have a comeback for everything.”
“I do.” Her voice practically bounced off the walls. She dropped it much lower to prevent an unwanted showdown with Gerald. “So there.”
Matthias pushed away from the counter and glanced at the desserts again. “Can I have pie?”
That proved too adorable to resist. “It will cost you double.”
“That seems fair.”
She pointed at the stool on the other side of the counter. “Sit and don’t push it.”
Turning away, she went to work on the pie. Got the dish and cut him a big slice. She moved around without a word. Gerald’s radio played in the background. She didn’t recognize the song, but then she never did.
The plate clinked against the counter as she set it in front of Matthias.
His eyes grew wide and that smile said appreciation. “Thank you.”
“Uh-huh.”
Before she could think about the fact she was serving him, she grabbed the coffeepot. Poured them both a cup and put one in front of him. Black and burning hot, just like he’d ordered in the past.
He swallowed a piece of pie then used his fork to scoop up another. He held it out to her. “Do you want a bite?”
His voice sounded like sex. “I don’t like sweets.”
“What?” His arm dropped and the fork hit the counter. “How is that possible?”
“Not a fan of sugar.”
His face screwed up in a look of horror. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
She couldn’t help but smile at that reaction. “Gerald asked the same thing when I started here.”
“The guy in the kitchen?”
“The fifty-year-old cook who thinks I talk too much, should stay out of his kitchen and don’t unload the dishwasher the right way.”
Matthias picked up the mug but stopped before taking a sip. “Technically, I unloaded the dishwasher last night. Does he want to c
ome out and fight with me?”
“You’re such a tough guy.”
He slowly lowered the mug to the counter. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”
The air shifted in the café. In the short space between sentences, the mood changed. The staccato banter faded away until the need to launch across the countertop and grab him nearly overwhelmed her. “I want you to be straight with me at all times.”
“I’m trying.”
She actually believed him. “From anyone else that would be a weird answer.”
“From me?”
“It’s probably honest.” She grabbed the coffeepot and topped off his mug. “I assume you’re not used to sharing.”
“Correct. I do not share well.”
She wasn’t totally sure what they were talking about now, but she’d slipped right to the edge of babble. It happened when she got nervous, and everything about Matthias shook her. “Sounds like only-child syndrome.”
“Something like that.”
“I was, too. I recognize the type.”
“Charming?”
He was and she kind of hated that. If he’d act like a dick she could write him off and ignore everything he said. But his smiles left her breathless and when he joked she felt this spiraling comfort that actually scared her. She’d survived for seven tough years by being on edge.
“Demanding,” she said, filling in the blank.
“That fits you.”
She couldn’t really deny that. “Yeah, right. Just me.”
The room slipped into silence as he played with the handle of the coffee mug. Ran his fingers back and forth along it in a move that was weirdly hot and sexual.
He stared at his pie until he glanced up and pinned her with an intense gaze. “Any chance you’ll let me sleep in the bed with you tonight?”
Her stomach flipped over. “What makes you think I’m staying with you?”
“At the inn or your place, you aren’t sleeping alone.” This time he spun the mug around, letting the bottom clank against the counter. “That’s not up for debate.”