by Talty, Jen
“I can see that.” Blaine smacked the flashlight against his palm.
“I’d like you to be okay with this.” Dave flashed his own light against the ground.
Blaine resented that he felt so close to Dave, almost like family. He wanted to hate him because he didn’t want anyone to take the place of his father in his mother’s heart. But that would be childish, and deep down Blaine knew Dave was a good man. “I’m sure I’ll get used to it.” Blaine lifted his flashlight and aimed it right at Dave’s eyes. “But if you hurt her, you’ll have to answer to me, got it?”
Dave covered his face with his forearm, blocking the hurtful beam of light from his eyes. “Yeah, I got it. Now get back to work before I have to fire your ass.”
“It’s my night off.”
“Not when someone shoots at you.”
Blaine knelt down beside a shiny object. “I got a winner.” He took the bag and gloves Dave offered.“ I’d like to get some pictures of that tread and try to match it.”
“Already on it.” Dave pulled out a camera bag from the back seat of his pick-up. “Damn, and you weren’t even on the night shift.” Dave took a few pictures. “I’ll get these out first thing.” He tossed the camera in the back of his pick-up.
“I think I’m going to call Toby and have him keep an eye on Kaylee while I’m at work.” Blaine ripped off the latex glove, tossing it in the wastebasket in the garage before closing it for the night.
“When you do, tell that lazy bastard to stop by and see his old man.”
“Why don’t you come up and get that sandwich,” Blaine offered.
“Thanks.”
His mom opened the door with a plate full of food. “I think Kaylee’s really tired. She needs her sleep and I offered the spare, but she insists on staying on your couch.” His mother waved a finger under his nose.
“I’ll make sure she gets the bed,” Blaine said. He leaned in to give his mom a kiss and whispered, “I’ll run him out if you let him stay too long.”
“Goodnight.” She gave him her best disapproving mother look.
This time he wanted to laugh. When his mother wanted something, she went for it and usually got it. Poor Dave. “Lock the doors and set the alarm,” Blaine warned.
“I’ll call Jonesy and have him plant himself near here for the night,” Dave said as he looped his arm around Blaine’s mother.
“Good idea.” Blaine watched his mother and Dave glide arm in arm across the lawn and then disappear into the house before turning and closing his own door behind him.
“They make a cute couple.” Kaylee smiled as she put a plate on the counter.
“Oh, yeah, real cute.”
“They both deserve some happiness, and they’re still so young.”
“I don’t want to talk about my mother’s love life.” He forced himself not to glance out the window. He did believe they were good for each other. It wasn’t like they’d come from bad relationships, or even lots of them. He’d seen Dave go out on a few dates, but nothing substantial, and he hadn’t known his mother even looked at the opposite sex. But a very small part of him wanted to go and rip Dave’s lungs out.
“Who do you think shot at us?” Kaylee asked, snapping him out of his own thoughts.
He went to kick off his boots, realizing he didn’t have any on. Hell, he hadn’t even buttoned his pants or put on a shirt. Looking across the room at a vision of pure beauty, he wanted to strip and take her over the couch and blame it on being incapacitated by his migraine. “Do you have any idea who your father could be?”
“Any man in this godforsaken town. My father said that Mom had shown some signs of schizophrenia before she got pregnant.” Kaylee slammed a cup of juice on the table and the orange liquid sloshed onto the counter. “You think my biological father wants me dead?”
“I don’t know, but something doesn’t add up here.”
He held her angry stare. Her body trembled and her skin paled. “Do you want to tell me something?”
She slumped down on the high-back chair at the counter. “I’m broke, unemployed, and my ex-boss is a number one asshole.”
“What really happened when you got those scars on your back?”
“I already told you.”
“You told me a line.” Anger surged through his body at her inability to tell him the truth.
“I worked for a lawyer whose clientele consisted of the modern day mob.”
“One of his clients did this to you?” He ran his fingers across her cheek. She stiffened and pulled away from him. “Damn it, I can’t figure this out if you’re going to keep things from me.”
“The man who attacked me said it was a warning.” Her voice trembled, but her face remained tight and emotionless.
“What kind of warning?”
“Shouldn’t my lawyer be present?” she said so quietly, he barely heard her.
“If I think you need one, I’ll let you know, okay?”
“You expect me to trust you?” Tears loomed behind her soft, pale blue eyes.
He nodded. “Why were you attacked?” He grabbed the sandwich and shoved half of it in his mouth.
“According to my boy… boss, the guy was just supposed to threaten me.”
“This boss of yours is quite the nice guy,” Blaine muttered.
“I decided to go back to him and play along.”
“Play along with what?” Blaine dropped his sandwich on the table.
“Play the part of the devoted secretary until I could safely leave and get home. Dad had promised to help me.”
“Jesus, Kaylee.” He pounded his fist on the counter. “Name. Give me a name.”
“De Luca, Nino De Luca.” She hiccupped.
Blaine rolled the name around in his brain. It sounded familiar. Why? “Oh, shit! You mean the De Luca family?”
She lowered her head. “I can’t stay here and put you or your mother in danger.”
“I put myself in danger every day as a cop.”
“But if I stay here, and he finds out… he’ll… ”
Blaine yanked his hair from the ponytail holder, letting it fall to his shoulders. He turned to look out at the night. The dry tree branches were still, and the world appeared to be calm. “Do you think he’d kill your father to get to you?”
“I… I— ”
“Just say it.” He hated to be in the dark. When you don’t know things because of lies, or the omission of the truth, innocent people die.
“When we divorced, I kept your name. Nino may not even know my real name, linking me to my father.”
“And I’m white.” He stepped out onto the porch and slammed the door. Dave’s car was still sitting in his front yard and he could see him in the kitchen. Blaine felt trapped. He couldn’t leave Kaylee alone, or ask her to leave, but he also couldn’t go intrude on his mother and Dave. But he didn’t want to go back in the house and continue to say things he’d regret in the morning.
When Blaine had fled his hometown, he thought he was moving toward his future. After he had moved back, he realized his problems had only followed him wherever he went. The same was happening to Kaylee.
Her father had been hurt in so many ways. His wife suffered from a horrible condition that led to sexual misconduct, and his daughter had turned out to be someone else’s. Blaine glanced at the sky. “Rutherford, I need your help. Speak to me, old man. Tell me something I don’t know.”
Chapter Six
Kaylee stared at Blaine through the window. His dark skin was in direct contrast with the bright moon. It had always amazed her that his body was a solid mass of fine sculptured muscle, yet he had the worst eating habits of anyone she’d ever met.
Forcing her gaze from him, she finished doing the dishes and started thinking about what to do next. But the situation seemed hopeless. While she hadn’t killed her father, she knew she needed to run. More like disappear. Otherwise something bad would happen, and it would happen to the wrong people. But how did she leave without get
ting herself deeper in trouble?
Her eyelids drooped and her body ached, demanding a peaceful rest, but tonight she’d sleep on the couch. She wouldn’t be beholden to him for anything. She grabbed his sweats and her top and padded to the bathroom.
A shower before bed had become part of her routine, and the hot water helped soothe her cramped muscles. When she stepped out of the bathroom, she gasped. Blaine was leaning against the front door, his legs crossed at the ankles. Considering his heritage, she couldn’t understand why she’d want to throw a cowboy hat on him. But sexy or not, he was dangerous and out of the question. She swallowed, forcing herself to move across the hard, cold floor.
“Does De Luca want you dead? Or back?” No mistaking his harsh tone.
“I don’t think he cares one way or the other.” She tried to shrug it all off as she eased herself onto the couch and succumbed to the comfort of the soft leather.
“Do you trust me?”
“It’s not that simple.” She wrapped herself in the flannel throw.
“I can’t help you unless you fill me in on a few things. Like why would Nino De Luca want to hurt you?”
Because he thinks I belong to him, and he’s a psycho. “The longer I worked for him, the more I found out about the criminals he had for clients. And I made the mistake of questioning him.”
“What kind of criminals?”
“Mostly the white collar kind— computer hackers, tax evaders.”
The couch shifted when he sat down at the other end. “That doesn’t sound like the kind of man who’d come after a secretary with both barrels loaded.”
“Not to tell you how to do your job or anything, but doesn’t it make more sense that whoever killed my father is the same person who shot at me tonight?” Which could also mean Nino and his goons, but she’d let him figure that one out.
“That makes perfect sense.” Blaine arched a brow. “Dodging me is only going to piss me off and keep the bad guys shooting at you.”
“I was just his secretary. I might have told him off a time or two and seen some things that I shouldn’t have. But compared to some other people, I’m sure I’m the last person on his long, ‘must-knockoff’ list.” Her sarcasm would end up biting her in the ass, but she just couldn’t stand Blaine’s holier-than-thou look.
“Did you take anything from him? Files, reports, a damn pen?”
“I’m sure he’s long forgotten me by now.” She could tell Blaine didn’t believe her, and she couldn’t blame him.
“He had someone stab you. What makes you think he’ll ever forget?”
“That was a mistake.” Her mistake.
Blaine’s already dark eyes turned nearly black. “How is driving a knife into someone’s back multiple times a mistake?” He threaded his hand through her hair.
“Let go.” She swatted at his hand. “I hate it when you do that.”
“Answer my question.” He released her hair, but his cold stare didn’t ease up.
“The guy was just supposed to ransack my apartment. I wasn’t even supposed to be there, and when I caught him, I hit him over the head with a frying pan. According to Nino, the guy he hired was just fighting back.”
“Stabbing you in the back multiple times is simply fighting back?” The intensity of Blaine’s hard as stone face brought back those frightening moments. She had thought she was going to die—had almost wished for it.
“I don’t work for him anymore,” she managed under ragged breath. “And I won’t ever go back. Problem solved.”
“Oh, honey, I think your problems are just beginning,” he whispered. His gaze dropped to her lips and he cursed softly. He lifted his hand to her chin and tilted her head before brushing his lips against hers.
“Stop it,” she snapped, bolting from the sofa. “Shit,” she slumped down in pain. “See what you made me do.”
“I didn’t make you jump,” he said as he gently pushed her body forward. With both hands, he began the most incredible massage she’d ever had, even from a professional.
“Oh, God.”
“Feel good?”
“Unfortunately,” she managed between heavy breaths. His touch was too sensual to ignore.
“I’ll make some phone calls and bring Toby in. He’s a good P.I., and if this guy’s around, we’ll find out and we’ll deal with him.”
“Why do you want Toby?”
“I can’t be here to protect you and out there trying to find whoever killed your dad.”
“Oh.” She hated to admit it, but the idea of having someone around, watching her, did make her feel better. As long as it wasn’t Nino.
“You’ve always loved a good backrub,” he said, running his fingers down her spine.
“You’ve always been great with your hands.” She laughed, although she didn’t want to. She wanted to be like Switzerland when it came to Blaine.
“Do you remember the first night we got together in the woods by your house?”
“You asked me to meet you and then I found you slumped over. I thought you were drunk.”
“Migraines have a tendency to do that to me.”
“Yeah, well I was already mad at you.”
“Why?” His hands lifted her shirt, smoothing down her spine in a slow, torturous stroke.
“You have any idea what it’s like to have the entire town make comments about the size of your boyfriend when you hadn’t even had the chance to see it for yourself?” She bit down on her lip. The absurdity of the conversation was almost as funny as his little jaunt about town.
“I lost a bet with Toby. I had to do it.”
“That’s pathetic.” She chuckled.
“It got your attention, didn’t it?”
“You had my attention fully clothed.”
“I did, didn’t I?” He tossed his head back and laughed. “I enjoyed making up.”
She swallowed. “That was a long time ago.”
“A lifetime ago,” he whispered. “You must be tired, and I insist you sleep in the bed.”
“I’ll be fine on the couch.”
She gasped when he lifted her into his arms. “Like I said, you’ll take the bed.”
“Put me down.” She stared into his deep, stubborn eyes. “I won’t put you out.”
“Okay.” He winked.
“I won’t sleep with you either.”
He climbed the set of stairs with ease. “That’s what you said that night.”
“That was different.” She pushed back the hair that had fallen in her face when he laid her down.
“How so?”
“Stop flirting with me, okay? This isn’t helping me.”
He scowled and sat on the edge of the bed. “That night I asked you if you trusted me.”
“That’s because you wanted to get into my pants.” She slapped his bare shoulder, letting her hand linger a moment to feel the rigid, yet supple muscles of his body.
“You wanted it as much as I did.”
“And what does that have to do with the cost of rice in China?”
“Did you trust me that night?”
“I slept with you, didn’t I?” A brief moment of joy filled her heart, followed by the same sadness that had torn her to pieces the day she’d found that check, and her life had been forever changed. She was sure he was long over her, but it was always nice to dream. Her dreams were all she had left. “That was a beautiful night, but it was a long time ago.”
“You cried.”
“Don’t you know all girls cry the first time? And besides, you cried— ”
A large, warm hand covered her mouth. “I did not,” his look turned serious.
A warm shiver crept up her spine and her breathing became labored. The room still smelled like candles mixed with his hot-blooded manliness, making her spin out of control.
His soft lips applied the slightest of pressure against her skin, but her body begged for more. “Blaine,” she whispered, unable to form any more words. She’d never been able to get him o
ut of her mind. The few men she’d been with she’d compared to Blaine on every level, but no one had ever stacked up, so she had simply stopped trying. He took her hands and pressed his warm lips against her palms. “Let me give you a decent massage. Your muscles could use it.”
A soft hand rippled across her skin as he helped remove her shirt. The bed shifted and creaked when he climbed in next to her. She stuffed her head under the pillow and prayed she wouldn’t cry. “This isn’t necessary.” The scars on her back were ugly, and she was ashamed of them.
“Just let me help you.”
A loud clap, followed by what she figured was him rubbing his hands together frightened her, but then warm pressure began to build on her lower back. His strong hands glided effortlessly across her skin. Across her scars.
“How long were you in the hospital?” His voice was as tender as his hands were gentle.
“For a few days. Then, because of some nerve damage, I had some problems walking. I spent about two months going to rehab.”
“What does this guy really mean to you?”
There was no way she could miss the disappointment in his tone. His fingers roamed up her spine, across her shoulder blades and then back down again. She resented him and his damned tenderness.
“Just a guy I worked for.” She stiffened at the feel of his full lips pressing against one of her scars. She took a deep breath and could hear him mumbling something, but she allowed her body to relax so deeply that she prayed she’d be able to fake sleep long enough for him to walk away.
Blaine wrestled with his conscience. Kaylee was vulnerable right now, too vulnerable. To make love to her under these conditions would be downright blasphemous. He continued to knead her back, feeling all the nodules that were probably causing her more pain than the injuries themselves.
“Tell me to stop.” He continued to kiss her back, and his hands squeezed her wonderfully round behind. “Please tell me to leave,” he whispered. But she didn’t move, didn’t say anything.
“I should go,” he mumbled, staring at his hands against her skin. His copper complexion against her fair, angel-like color had always affected him in the most primal way.
