Harlequin Superromance May 2016 Box Set

by Janice Kay Johnson

  Tears welled in her big brown eyes. “I don’t understand how anyone can just keep working here like nothing happened! I will never forget!”

  “I doubt a single person who was here that day will ever forget.” He knew damn well Lina wouldn’t. “People handle grief and fear in different ways, that’s all.”

  With the exception of this very young woman, the surviving employees projected an air of admirable determination and what he could only call defiance. He’d seen it in other victims of crime. However unconsciously, they wanted whoever had hurt them to know they refused to be broken. He was charitable enough to decide this girl might just be too young to be capable of that kind of strength. It didn’t hurt that she could run home to mommy and daddy, too, instead of having a family of her own dependent on her paycheck.

  A tear trickled down her cheek. “I didn’t really see anything. I already told those FBI agents.”

  “What I’d like is for you to take a look at a picture. Tell me if this man looks at all familiar to you.”

  “Why would the picture mean anything to me?”

  “There’s the possibility he lives locally,” Bran explained. “He might have been in the bank doing business at some point, or you could have seen him somewhere else.”

  “Oh.” Her face cleared. “Okay.”

  Not having a lot of hope, he opened the folder and handed her the copy of the drawing. So far, all he’d gotten were blank stares and a headshake.

  Makayla Lander stared, all right, but tiny crinkles formed on her forehead. His attention sharpened.

  “I don’t know,” she said finally, “but, um, he looks kind of like this guy who hit on a girl I know at a bar.”

  A bar? Good God, was she over twenty-one?

  “Did you talk to him yourself?”

  She shook her head. “I thought he was kind of old, and his head was shaved, but Pippa said he was hot.”

  Bran shared her doubt, but what did he know? “Do you recall when this was?”

  Her face scrunched in thought. “Like...six months ago, maybe?”

  “And where was this bar?”

  “Well, it’s more of a tavern. The Creek. Do you know it?”

  “Yeah.” He did. When he and Zach first reconnected, that was where they’d gone.

  It took some effort to extract the friend’s full name and phone number. Then Bran let her go. Makayla hurried out as if this was school and today had been the last day before summer.

  This might be the break they’d been waiting for.

  * * *

  LINA HAD LEARNED not to be chatty while Bran transported her. He’d said, “I have to stay alert.” She could respect that.

  Today, they were barely inside the apartment when he told her he wouldn’t be able to pick her up tomorrow after work. “I’ll call Zach and see if he can do it.”

  She plunked down her tote, filled with essays she needed to read and grade. “He can’t do that without taking time off. Bran, there’s no reason I can’t drive. You know, it’s been long enough. I’m wondering if the shooting really could have been random. Anyway, I promise I’ll be careful. I’ll time it so I arrive and leave when everyone else does, and make sure I’m in a crowd going to and from the parking lot.”

  He frowned. “Let me think about it.”

  It was everything she could do not to vent the rebellion she felt. Under any other circumstances, she wouldn’t have put up for a minute with a man thinking he had the right to tell her what to do. Lina kept her mouth shut because of the chill she felt at the thought of scuttling across the parking lot knowing she might as well have a bull’s-eye pinned to her back. Bran might be domineering—okay, was domineering—but he had been putting himself between her and danger whenever he could. He deserved some slack.

  “Do you have an appointment tomorrow afternoon?” she thought to ask.

  He did, with a young woman who had supposedly been hit up at a noisy bar by a guy who might be the bank robber. Only, when he had called her, she hadn’t actually remembered the particular occasion or guy, but if Makayla said, it must have happened. Anyway, she went out with a lot of guys, and maybe he’d been one of them. She was currently a student at Western Washington State in Bellingham.

  “God, I feel old,” he grumbled.

  Lina leaned back against the counter, watching as Bran opened the refrigerator, stared into it, then closed it without taking anything out. “What brought that on?”

  “The teller I interviewed today.” He shook his head, half-disgusted and half-bemused, if she was reading him right. “She pouted and whimpered like a thirteen-year-old, and her friend doesn’t sound a lot better.”

  “You must deal with kids and teenagers all the time.”

  “Yeah, but—shit.” His shoulders slumped. “What if I’m too old to become a father?”

  Bran Murphy, plaintive? Lina blinked. “Um...it’s a little late for that.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just...got to worrying today.”

  “Do you think you’ll be impatient with her?” She laid her hand on her stomach in silent reassurance and saw that his gaze had followed her hand.

  “Something like that,” he muttered. “At least she’ll have you.”

  “Oh, Bran.” It was a funny moment to feel a sting of tears in her eyes. She crossed the small kitchen and slid her arms around his waist, laying her cheek on his shoulder.

  He was still for a moment before his arms closed around her, too.

  Lina sniffed and wiped her cheeks on his white dress shirt, then backed up, hating the moment when his hands fell away. “Hormones,” she mumbled, turning almost blindly in search of a paper towel.

  She heard a rip, and Bran thrust one in her hand. “This what you’re looking for?”

  Lina blew her nose without trying to be delicate.

  “What inspired that?” He yanked off his tie and dropped it on the counter, then started on the buttons at his cuffs.

  “Just that you’ve showed me every quality you need to be an amazing father.” She had no doubt he would love his child. “Although you might want to think twice about snapping orders and expecting them to be followed this instant.”

  He had a funny look on his face she didn’t understand until he said, “Change isn’t easy.”

  She had to hug him again. “You don’t have to change.” Deciding not to overwhelm him with more emotion, she said, “How about tacos tonight? I can make them quick.”

  “That sounds good.”

  She sensed he was grateful for the chance to retreat, physically and emotionally. In fact, he was backing toward the living room when his phone rang. He took it from his belt and saw the number. The intensity in his eyes shook her. He muttered something under his breath and silenced the phone, setting it on the counter and walking away.

  Lina looked from the phone to his broad back. What had just happened? Did she dare ask who the caller was?

  More disturbed than she’d like, she opened the refrigerator and took out the hamburgers. Could Paige have been calling? He might not have been entirely honest about how he felt about his former fiancée. They’d never really talked about her, and no wonder, given what had happened the night before the canceled wedding. And the consequences, she thought, looking down at the bump pushing out her shirt.

  No. She wouldn’t mention the call.

  The hamburger and onion were sizzling and she was on tiptoe searching for spices by the time Bran came back.

  “Chili powder okay?” he asked, finding it easily.

  “Sure.”

  She accepted his offer to grate the cheese while she opened the can of tomato sauce and dumped it in the frying pan.

  He set the essentials on the table and found the sour cream while she chopped a tomato and shredded lettuce. The evening domes
tic dance was becoming natural, it occurred to her. It was going to feel strange when she was back in her own apartment, cooking alone for herself.

  She didn’t love the idea, but also knew, whatever happened with her and Bran, it would be smart of her to go back to her own place when it was safe. Thinking clearly didn’t come easily when she shared most of her waking minutes away from work with him.

  She suppressed a sigh and began putting together her first taco. “I should have made a vegetable, too.”

  “Lettuce is a vegetable.”

  “Well...at least this isn’t iceberg.” Which was what he’d had in his refrigerator when she first moved in.

  Both were quiet for a few minutes. Lina could feel his all-too perceptive gaze on her. He had a way of watching her more than was comfortable.

  “That was my mother,” he said abruptly.

  She looked up. “What?”

  “If you were wondering.”

  “Then...why didn’t you answer? I wouldn’t have minded.” Although she could understand why talks with her were difficult. After the years of estrangement, their relationship couldn’t be easy. Or...had he ever met with her, even after reconnecting with his brother?

  “I was nice when she came to Zach’s wedding,” he said shortly. “We did not have a heartfelt reunion, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “But...” She should shut up, she knew she should. He was waiting, however, eyes only slightly narrowed, so she finished what she’d begun. “She’s your mother. The only parent you have left. I know you don’t approve of some of her behavior—”

  His lips took on a nasty curl. With an air of finality, he said, “She’s nobody I want to know.”

  Lina was stupid enough to open her mouth again. “But—”

  “No more,” he said curtly.

  They finished their meal in silence. Leaving him to clean up the kitchen, Lina retreated to the sofa with her pile of essays. Pretending to be absorbed, she didn’t so much as look up. When he was done, he disappeared into his little-used home office.

  Concentrating took a supreme effort for her, and she was far more relieved than usual to scrawl a B-in red pen on the final essay. She still had to record the grades, but she could do that in the morning before the first bell rang.

  She and Bran spoke politely when she came and went from the bathroom, but somehow Lina wasn’t at all surprised that he still hadn’t come to bed before sleep dragged her down.

  * * *

  LINA HAD BEEN polite but distant this morning. Bran couldn’t blame her. He’d been a jackass last night. Thinking about his mother had a way of doing that.

  What he couldn’t figure out was why she was being so damn persistent. Some persistence when he was a stunned, angry twelve-year-old boy might have meant something. Yes, he’d been angry with her, but he’d also still loved her, his mom. But she’d given up on him all too quickly. As he’d told Zach, any effort she made now was too little, too late.

  As he and Lina got ready to go out the door, he had tried to apologize for the way he had shut her down, but she glanced at him without interest and said, “You have nothing to be sorry for. I was sticking my nose into something that wasn’t any of my business.”

  “That’s not how—”

  Digging in her purse, she wasn’t even listening. “I must have car keys in here somewhere.”

  The cap on his mood came with the reminder that she was driving herself today, the first time she’d be behind the wheel in—he had to count back—almost three weeks. He’d make sure she got into work safely this morning, but she’d be on her own coming home.

  He felt confident that he hadn’t been followed when he drove her anywhere. If the man who wanted her dead had done his research, though, he’d have been watching for her at the middle school. He’d have seen who was dropping her off and picking her up. From the Camaro, he had likely figured out she was staying with Bran and had found his address listed somewhere on the internet. Now the asshole would finally have a chance to catch her alone.

  “Find them?” he said finally.

  “Yes, thank goodness.” Lina brandished a set of keys.

  He walked her to her car, parked in a visitor spot, waited until she had to adjust her seat slightly to accommodate her changed girth and buckled in, then said, “I’ll be behind you.”

  She rolled her eyes but didn’t protest.

  “Lina...” Her pleasant, impersonal gaze choked off what he’d meant to say.

  “Shouldn’t we be going?”

  “Yeah. Be careful today.”

  “I said I would.”

  He nodded and headed for his Camaro. He maintained his vigilance until they arrived and she was safely inside, then stayed at the curb in front of the school while he called his brother.

  Zach answered right away. “Bran?”

  “I’m wondering if you can do a favor for me.” Man, that was harder than it should have been to say. Because he rarely needed help? Because he was supposed to be the big brother?

  “Anything,” his brother said immediately and with a seriousness that surprised Bran.

  “I have business in Bellingham this afternoon.”

  “To do with the bank robbery?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You want me to pick up Lina from school.”

  “Actually, she drove.” He hesitated. “I followed her and saw her in. I’m hoping you can break away from your patrol long enough to follow her home.”

  “You know I can,” his brother said. “But did you tell her to expect me?”

  “Uh...no.”

  Zach laughed. “Is she going to be pissed?”

  “Maybe. But alive.”

  “Gotcha. Hey, you two want to come to dinner Saturday night?”

  “I’ll ask Lina. She’ll probably say it’s our turn to have you, though.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t need a helping hand. I do.”

  Bran laughed. “Should have figured. Doing what?”

  “Hauling the new shower, toilet and vanity upstairs.”

  “That I can do.” He thought about mentioning the call from their mother he hadn’t taken, but decided it could wait. Or maybe Zach already knew. He took Mom’s calls. If she’d been whining to him that Bran was ignoring her, he’d been smart enough not to say anything.

  Unlike Lina. Bran winced at the thought.

  “I’ll leave you a message when she’s at your place, safe and sound.”

  He resented the reminder that his place wasn’t her home, but said only, “Thanks.”

  For the rest of the morning, he succeeded in doing his job, making phone calls in pursuit of a suspect in an unusual home-invasion robbery, even eating at his desk to allow himself no time to brood before he set out at two for Bellingham, almost an hour north toward the Canadian border. Pippa Marks had one and two o’clock classes, apparently, but had agreed to meet him fifteen minutes after her last class at a coffee shop near the campus.

  Unfortunately, the near-hour drive on a freeway little-traveled at this time of day gave him the opening he didn’t want to think about the sometimes explosive, always bewildering, emotions he’d been hit with since Lina came back into his life.

  No—longer than that, if he was to be honest. A lot of this had been brewing since he’d come face-to-face with the brother he’d never expected to see again and started the investigation into Sheila’s murder. As if all that wasn’t enough, then there was Lina. Beautiful, stubborn, balking at the idea of accepting a sensible marriage. She made him feel more than he wanted to—but she expected still more. She hadn’t directly said as much, but Bran knew damn well she was waiting for a declaration of true love, him on his knees. She was determined to shatter the self-control that defined him.

  Paige had wanted the same
thing. When she didn’t get it, she walked. Logically, the pregnancy should make a difference to Lina, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t.

  Bran’s fingers tightened and loosened repeatedly on his leather-wrapped steering wheel as he remained caught up in his disturbing reflections, the Camaro eating up the winding miles through country that became increasingly mountainous.

  He could give Lina everything important, but not that. Even if he had been in love with her—whatever that meant—he couldn’t say the words. They put too much power in her hands. His commitment to her and the baby would be absolute, but how could he trust that hers to him would be anything he could rely on?

  Hell, she should be as wary as he was! Her creep of an ex had given her a harsh lesson: nobody can be trusted, not even people you love. Maybe in both of their cases, especially people they loved. If love was what he felt for his family.

  It had been, once upon a time, he knew. He’d been a regular kid, with a regular family, until he’d walked in on his mother in bed with his father’s best friend and discovered what betrayal meant. Then, a matter of months later, Sheila was gone in the most hideous way.

  As the miles rolled by, traffic grew heavier and freeway exits crowded with businesses closer together, making Bran aware he was coming into town. Time to focus—and thank God he had an excuse to quit brooding.

  From previous investigations that had brought him up here, Bran had no trouble finding the coffee shop. So close to the campus, parking spaces were at a premium and the sidewalks crowded. He felt lucky to find a parking place several blocks away.

  Walking toward the meet, he glanced back to see some young guys had stopped to look at his car. Nice to know however old he felt, at least his car was cool.

  A heart-stopping thought erased his smile between one step and the next. He was about to become a family man. Babies were vulnerable. They were supposed to ride in the backseat, which the Camaro didn’t have. In fact, he could carry his wife or the baby in the sports car—but not both. Which meant he’d need a bigger vehicle, one with a backseat. Did that mean selling the Camaro?

  He almost walked right past the coffee shop, but out of the corner of his eye saw the logo painted on the window. Do your damn job.