Deceiving Bella: Book Eleven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series

by Beauman, Cate

  His phone dinged with a text.

  I’m home. Can’t wait to see you.

  He stared at the words for several seconds, then dialed her number, ready to move this along as he listened to the phone ring.

  “Hey, handsome. I hope I didn’t disturb you at work.”

  He swallowed. Her smooth voice affected him as powerfully as seeing her for the first time had. “Nah, you’re fine.”

  “You went grocery shopping,” she said as she stood, following the puppy back inside, shutting the French doors behind her. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He settled his head against the rest, hearing the stiffness in his own words. Clearing his throat, he reminded himself that there was a game to play and he was off to a rough start. “Lucy must be glad you’re home.”

  “She seems to be. I promised her a long walk on the beach later.” Bella came back outside, locking up the front door and getting into her car. “You sound tired again.”

  “A little, but I’m fine.” He turned over the engine as she backed out of the driveway. “What are you up to today?”

  “I have a few errands to run.” She drove down the road, hitting the light into the main flow of traffic just right.

  He followed. “Yeah? Like what?”

  “Just a couple of stops here and there. Do you think you’ll be home for dinner?”

  He didn’t have to be. He could say that work would be keeping him busy for as long as he needed the excuse, but he was going to have to stand face-to-face with Bella eventually. Tonight seemed like as good a time as any. “Yeah, I’ll be home.”

  “Great. What time do you want to eat?”

  “How about six?”

  “Six, it is. I’ll make something special. How do you feel about chicken?”

  “I feel fine about it.”

  “All right. I’ll see you later, then.”

  “See ya.”

  “Bye.”

  “Bye.” He hung up, trailing her in the busy Sunday morning traffic. It didn’t surprise him any when they merged onto the 405, heading toward Reseda. Bella probably had all kinds of things to tell her father. Eventually, she was going to tell him too. He was done fucking around with all of this. Bella had the answers that were going to help him keep her uncle locked away.

  ~~~~

  Bella packaged up Dad’s meals for the upcoming week while he sat in his favorite chair, watching TV, still clad in a T-shirt and pajama pants despite the fact that it was late afternoon. Her impromptu midmorning trip to Reseda had turned out to be a wonderful opportunity to share the adventures of her long weekend away, run a few errands on Dad’s behalf, and gauge his health for herself. For days, she’d been forced to take Dad at his word when he’d assured her over the phone that he was doing fine, but in reality his weight had dropped again. He was losing instead of maintaining—not at all what she wanted to see.

  Looking his way, she sighed, consumed by a fresh wave of guilt as she studied his big hands growing bonier every time she visited. As much as she’d enjoyed her visit in New York, she wondered if she should have stayed in LA where she was needed most. Dad seemed happy enough and his energy levels appeared to be okay, but they weren’t great either. He’d joined her at the table for lunch, chatting for a solid thirty minutes before he’d been ready to settle back in his recliner to rest. At this point, they were both doing what they could to keep him at his best, but it was obvious they were losing the battle.

  Tucking her terrifying thoughts away, she focused on her current chores, putting the Tupperware containers in the freezer, then wiping the counters clean. “Dad, do you want any tea?”

  “Huh?” he said, jerking his head off his chest as he opened his drooping eyelids.

  “Do you want a cup of tea? I found a new herbal mix that’s supposed to be good for your immune system.”

  “No. I’m still full from my sandwich.”

  He’d eaten half of his grilled cheese and tried a sip or two of the roasted tomato soup she’d prepared. At least there was something nourishing in his system. “I can make it anyway and set it close by, just in case you change your mind.”

  “I’ll probably stick with my juice.” He gestured to the container on the side table. “This new one with the beets is pretty tasty.”

  “Okay. Great.” She dried her hands on the cloth and walked over to where he sat, resting her butt on the arm of his chair, smiling as she scrutinized his pale complexion.

  He stared back at her. “You should go—get home to your life.”

  She glanced at her watch, torn between staying in Reseda and leaving. Dad wasn’t the only one on her mind. Reed was worrying her too. Their last couple of conversations had been off. He’d seemed out of sorts and tired. She hoped his new assignment hadn’t taken a turn for the worse. On Thursday and Friday night, he’d sounded fine—Saturday morning too, but she imagined a lot could go wrong with a stalker case in a short amount of time. “I have a little while yet.”

  “Do you have plans with Reed?”

  She felt herself smile. “Yes. I’m making us dinner.”

  “Good. Go home to him. Have a nice meal. Be twenty-five. I’m going to take a little nap—” He aimed the remote at the television to shut it off when Channel Four started a segment on Brooklyn. He turned up the volume and settled the remote back on his lap.

  “…was shot in the head, reminiscent of the old mafia days right here in this section of the city. Rocco Bastoni’s freedom from Allenwood Penitentiary lasted less than seventy-two hours after serving twenty-three years. The former Caparelli associate was brutally gunned down outside his home on the South Side tonight…” The reporter continued his coverage as pictures of a man named Alfeo Caparelli, the rumored Caparelli crime boss, were flashed on the screen before the live footage cut back to police cars and yellow tape in the Bensonhurst neighborhood.

  “Damn fool,” Dad muttered, shutting off the TV.

  “You know, I don’t think that was too far from where I was staying. I’m pretty sure Luisa’s shop is a block or two down from there.”

  “What’d you say her last name was again?”

  “De Vitis.”

  “Huh. Don’t know that one.”

  She grinned. “Why would you?”

  He shrugged. “I wouldn’t.”

  “It’s scary to think I was there just yesterday.”

  “I’m glad you’re home. From what I hear, Bensonhurst is quite a place—not a place for my daughter.”

  “I don’t see myself going back anytime soon.”

  “Good.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Go home, Bella. Thanks for driving all the way up here and making me something delicious.”

  She kissed his forehead. “You’re welcome. Are you sure you don’t need me to come to your doctor’s appointment tomorrow?”

  “No, I’m doing fine.”

  “You’ll call me and let me know how everything goes?”

  “I told you I would.”

  She hesitated, then stood, getting the hint loud and clear that he wanted his space. “I’ll come up on Saturday.”

  “Only if it works for your schedule.”

  She hated that she would have to wait another six days before she could see him again. “It does.”

  He got out of his chair and hugged her. “Thanks for coming.”

  She held on tight, startled again by how much less of him there was to wrap her arms around. He’d been strong and muscular—not nearly as built as Reed, but robust and healthy once upon a time. “You’re welcome.”

  He walked her to the door. “Have a good week.”

  “I will.” She stepped outside, noting the way he leaned against the doorframe for support. “Daddy, are you sure you don’t want to come stay with me? I could bring you to your appointments and cook for you—”

  He shook his head. “I’m not helpless.”

  “I know you’re not.”

  “I like my house.”

  She nodded. “Okay.
Call me tomorrow.”

  “See you soon, Bella Boop.”

  She smiled. “All right.”

  “Drive carefully,” he called as she got into the car.

  “I will.” She turned over the engine and backed up, waving before she started on her way. Glancing in her rearview mirror, she gripped the steering wheel tight, wishing he would come home with her to the Palisades, but every time she brought it up, he immediately shot her down. She hoped everything would go well with his appointment tomorrow. And they were going to start talking every day whether he liked the idea or not. If he was going to insist on living an hour away, she was going to insist that he check in. That wasn’t too much to ask.

  With a decisive nod, she considered the matter settled and glanced at the clock, smiling as her mind wandered to Reed. He would be home in an hour and a half. If she was lucky, the traffic would cooperate and she’d shave a little time off her drive. Then she would take a quick shower, grill up some chicken, and mix up an easy cucumber salad. Tonight was going to be about simplicity and reconnecting. She’d missed him so much.

  It should have scared her some that Reed was quickly becoming such a huge part of her life—vital—but it didn’t. For once, she was letting her heart lead, trusting that Reed would take care with her. In ninety minutes or less, she would be snuggled up in his arms, and everything was going to feel right again. He was going to tell her his troubles over a glass of wine or maybe while they enjoyed an ice cream at the beach. It didn’t matter which, as long as they were together.

  ~~~~

  Reed glanced at his watch as he sat on Bella’s couch, bobbing his leg up and down while he flipped through her channel lineup. If he was pegging things right, she would be home any minute now, and for the first time since this morning, he felt like he was ready to do whatever needed to be done to get the ball rolling again. He’d had plenty of time to prepare. For much of the afternoon, he’d followed her around Reseda, watching her go from the grocery store to the pharmacy, then to the local Home Depot before she finally parked in her father’s driveway. More than once, he’d scratched his head, trying to figure out what her normal, everyday errands had to do with Nicoli Caparelli and the mafia. The dots weren’t connecting. No matter how he and Joey theorized and tried to make something stick, nothing was aligning. After ninety minutes of sitting idle half a block from Vincent’s place, he’d called it a day, figuring that a round in the ring at Rusty’s would serve him better than waiting for some unlikely event to happen on Darby Avenue.

  A car drove down the street and stopped, pulling into Bella’s spot. He turned his head, looking out the window as she grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and got out. Shutting off the television, he stood, shoving his hands in his pockets as Lucy rushed to the door.

  Moments later, Bella let herself inside, absently greeting Lucy as she grinned at Reed. “Hey, you.”

  Damn, she made his heart skip a beat just from being in the same room. No amount of preparation or training was ever going to change that. “Hey.”

  She laughed and launched herself at him, wrapping him up in a tight hug. “I missed you.”

  He made himself return her embrace, closing his eyes and clutching at her dress as he nuzzled her temple with his chin and breathed in the scent of her perfume and cigarette smoke.

  “It’s so good to be home—to see you.” She pressed her palms to his cheeks, pulling his mouth to hers for a noisy kiss.

  He gripped her shoulders, fighting the urge to yank away when his first instinct was to tell her this couldn’t happen anymore. Remembering his role, he slid his hands down her baby-soft skin, letting the moment play out.

  She eased back, smiling into his eyes as she hooked her arms around the back of his neck and swayed slowly in a dance. “I missed you.”

  He followed her lead as his fingers found their way into her hair—like they always did. “I missed you too.”

  “Thank you for taking care of Lucy.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “How was your day?”

  This felt normal—like any other day when they talked and held each other close. But it wasn’t. “Not too bad.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then why do you seem so unhappy?” She stopped their dance. “I heard it in your voice the last couple of times we talked, and I can see it in your eyes right now.”

  He stood taller, startled that she was reading him so easily when he was trying like hell to play this through. “I’m fine.”

  Shaking her head, she caressed soothing fingers along his neck. “No, you’re not. What’s going on, Reed?”

  He clenched his jaw, sensing her genuine concern. Here stood the kind, sweet woman he knew Bella to be. And that’s where everything stopped making sense. Isabella Colby his girlfriend didn’t add up with Isabella Colby the mafia accessory. “Nothing.”

  She sighed quietly. “Is everything going okay with your assignment? Sadie’s safe?”

  “Yeah. There hasn’t been any new activity. She’s fine. I’m fine.”

  She held his gaze as if she wasn’t so sure.

  “I’m good, Bella.” He pressed his mouth to hers, remembering too late that he wasn’t supposed to make the first move. “Really.”

  “Okay.” She stood on her tiptoes, touching her lips to his—once, twice, making that sound in her throat as she opened her mouth and teased his tongue with hers.

  Christ, she was sinful—her taste, the way her breasts pressed against him as she hugged herself closer. He fought himself, only giving her back what he had to until her hands wandered down to his hips and over his ass. Then he couldn’t take it anymore—fighting what he knew he shouldn’t want but did. He groaned, cupping her face and plundering, surrendering to his weakness for her before he pulled back, his breath steaming out in torrents. “You stink, Bella,” he blurted out, grabbing hold of any thought that didn’t involve him pulling her down to the area rug and finishing what they started. “Like cigarettes.”

  She nodded. “I know. I need a shower.”

  “Where do you go? Why do you smell like a chimney so often these days?”

  Her gaze left his, darting to the floor. “My dad smokes.”

  He clenched his jaw, waiting for something more. “You met up with him?”

  Nodding again, she turned away. “Let me go shower real quick.”

  He snagged her by the wrist, growing more frustrated as she continued to evade. “What’s the big mystery?”

  She whirled around. “What?”

  “I don’t get it. Why’s your father such a secret?” He heard the edginess in his tone and couldn’t make himself care if this was the wrong approach.

  “He’s not.”

  “You don’t talk about him.”

  She jerked her shoulders. “What is it that you want to hear?”

  “I don’t know. Something. Anything.” He crossed his arms and uncrossed them just as quickly. “You got pretty pissed when I wouldn’t bring you to meet my family. You won’t even talk about yours.”

  She stared at him, blinking, clearly surprised. “I didn’t—I’m sorry.”

  He jerked his shoulders this time. “I just don’t get it.”

  Her gaze wandered to the floor again, staying there. “Not everyone is proud of where they come from. I don’t like to talk about my past.”

  “Why?”

  She swallowed. “It’s complicated.”

  “So uncomplicate it. Tell me about it.”

  Finally she made eye contact again. “Reed—”

  “It’s hard to have a relationship when you don’t trust me.”

  A look of horror washed over her face. “I do trust you. I can’t think of anyone I trust more. I just…I’ve worked really hard to get to where I am.”

  “What does that have to do with anything? With you and me?”

  “Everything.”

  He shook his head, refusing to take that as her answer.

&nbs
p; “You’re important,” she said, “more important than anyone has been in a long time.”

  “Good, because the feeling’s mutual.” Why not be honest when he could?

  She turned away, fiddling with the lampshade, her posture rigid as the tension in the room grew thicker by the second. “I’m sorry that I’ve given you the impression I don’t trust you.” She glanced over her shoulder, looking at him with such anguish in her eyes, he faltered in his resolve to get his answers no matter the cost.

  Sighing, he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Clearly this method wasn’t getting him where he needed to go, so he would try something different—something better. “I know you do. Come here.” He pulled her onto his lap as he sat on the couch. “I just want to understand.” He kissed the top of her head, never speaking truer words. “I want to know all of you, Bella.”

  She blinked back tears. “It’s hard for me to talk about my parents.”

  He slid his knuckles along her jaw. Why were her tears so damn lethal? When would his kneejerk reaction always to believe her catch up with the facts at hand? Even after the pictures and mounting evidence, he was a sucker for Isabella Colby. “How about we wait until you’re ready?”

  She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his. “Thank you.”

  He combed his fingers through her hair. “I can’t help you if I don’t know how.”

  “You’re so good to me.” She adjusted the way she sat on his lap, straddling his thighs. “How did I get so lucky?”

  He trailed his palms up and down her back. “I want to help you, Bella. Whatever’s going on, I want to help.”

  A tear slid down her cheek.

  This was real—her pain. No matter what, he couldn’t stand seeing her hurting. “Don’t cry.”

  “I’m trying not to. I just—I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” He caught a fresh drop with his thumb. “We’re going to make everything all right.”

  She traced his ears, the way she did when they lay in bed after making love. “I want to believe you.”