Touch of Red

by Laura Griffin

  Sean set down the pizza box. He leaned back against the counter and watched her. She had her back to him. Tension radiated from her body, flowing directly to his.

  “Brooke?” He couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice.

  She turned around. “My ex was here. That was his calling card.”

  “He was here while you were gone? Without your permission?”

  “Apparently.” She looked at Sean and sighed. “Just . . . drop it, okay?”

  “Are you fucking serious? That’s breaking and entering.”

  “Not if he used a key.”

  She crossed the kitchen and went through the utility room to the back door. Sean followed her, watching as she stepped outside and crouched down to run her hand over the metal downspout near the steps.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I keep a hide-a-key back here.” She stood up with a small plastic box that had a magnet attached. She slid it open.

  Empty.

  Brooke muttered a curse. Then she strode back into the kitchen. Sean locked the door—for all the good it did—and joined her by the sink.

  “Brooke—”

  “Don’t say it. Obviously, I need to get my locks changed.”

  Sean leaned against the counter, struggling to get a grip on his temper.

  “I didn’t realize he knew about my key.”

  Sean stared at her. He hated the apologetic look in her eyes. “Who is this guy?”

  She shook her head.

  “You should slap a restraining order on him.”

  She snorted. “No.”

  “I can help you get it done.”

  “Forget it.”

  “Like hell I’m gonna forget it. He’s fucking threatening you in your own home.”

  She closed her eyes. Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath.

  Yoga breathing.

  Like that was going to help her deal with this asshole. Sean clenched his teeth, trying to rein in his temper.

  “I don’t want to get into this right now,” she said calmly.

  “Looks to me like you don’t have a choice.”

  Sean wanted her to talk to him. He wanted to help, but he didn’t have any information. “Who is he, Brooke?”

  “You don’t know him.”

  “Does he have a criminal record?”

  “No.”

  “Is he violent?”

  “No.”

  It was only a nanosecond of hesitation, but Sean caught it. God damn it. Fury swelled in his chest.

  He stepped closer, but she ducked around him. “I could use a drink. Would you like a glass of wine?” She selected a bottle of red from a rack on the counter and then took out a corkscrew. Sean wanted to do it for her, but she seemed to need something to do with her hands, so he stood back and watched as she uncorked the bottle.

  He opened a few cabinets and found some glasses.

  “When did you break up?”

  She took a deep breath and poured the wine. “Four months ago.”

  Four months.

  About the time he’d started hanging out with her. She’d seemed guarded when they’d first met.

  She still seemed guarded.

  She handed Sean a glass, then leaned back against the counter and looked at him.

  “I can help you file a report.”

  “There’s nothing to report.”

  “Brooke, come on.”

  “He didn’t break in here. And he’s not violent, he’s just . . . controlling. And he’s having a hard time letting go.”

  “You need to slap an RO on him.”

  “Oh, yeah? Because those work so well all the time?”

  She was right. They didn’t always work. In fact, Sean had handled more than one murder-suicide case where a freshly issued restraining order was found at the crime scene. Brooke had probably seen the same.

  “Don’t look at me that way,” she said.

  “What way?”

  “It’s not like you’re thinking. He never hit me or anything. If he had, I would have done something about it.” She took a deep breath and looked away. “I’ll call a locksmith tomorrow.”

  “That’s good.” Sean set his wine aside and stepped close to her. “I don’t want you here alone tonight. And now I know what you’re thinking, but that’s not a line.”

  She looked up at him.

  “Will you stay with me tonight?” He held up his hands. “I’ll take the couch. I swear.”

  She looked conflicted.

  “Or you can have the couch. I’m offering friend to friend here. If Ric needed a place to crash, say if Mia threw him out—”

  “Like that would ever happen.”

  “If it did, I’d give him my sofa. That’s all I’m offering.”

  “Thanks, but . . . it’s probably easier if I crash at my brother’s.”

  “Where’s he live? I’ll take you.”

  “Then I won’t have my car.”

  “Fine, I’ll follow you.”

  “Thanks, but that’s completely unnecessary.”

  “I’m not actually asking here, Brooke. Wherever you go tonight, I’m going to make sure you get there safely, so there’s no point in arguing about it.”

  “Fine. Thank you.” She set down her wine. “Let me pack a bag.”

  • • •

  Brooke pulled into her brother’s driveway and parked behind his Prius. It was like hers, but black—a detail that probably wasn’t lost on Sean, who noticed everything.

  He pulled up to the curb and got out, surveying the condominium complex. The brand-new construction was meant to look old, and every redbrick unit had a black gas lamp out front.

  “Who’s the yellow Mini?” Sean asked, eyeing the car at the top of the driveway.

  “Owen’s girlfriend.”

  Brooke glanced up and down the street, but didn’t see a single black pickup, oversize or even regular-size.

  Sean followed her up the cobblestone path and opened the wrought-iron gate into the courtyard.

  “Does your brother own a firearm?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “He’s a chemistry professor.”

  “So, that’s a no?”

  “That’s a no.”

  “Alarm system?”

  “No.”

  Brooke pressed the bell, and chimes sounded behind the heavy black door. A faint yapping noise ensued, and Lin pulled open the door. With heels and hair mousse, she was five feet tall. At the moment, she wore pink pajamas—no shoes—and held a white Chihuahua in her arms.

  “Brooke. Hi.” She adjusted her horned-rimmed glasses.

  “Sorry to barge in.”

  “No problem.” The dog yapped and squirmed. “Owen didn’t mention you were coming over.”

  “Hey, Lin, Brooke’s coming over,” Owen called. He appeared in the doorway, grinning. “Sorry, I got sidetracked.” His grin faded when he saw Sean. “Owen Porter.” He reached around Lin and offered a handshake.

  “Sean Byrne.”

  Owen looked at Brooke expectantly. “So . . . you said something about a break-in?”

  “Nothing stolen. Think we scared him off.” Brooke smiled. “I need to get a locksmith out tomorrow.”

  Brooke could feel the tension coming from Sean as Owen ushered them into the foyer. The house smelled like popcorn, and Brooke remembered the two liked to watch movies on Saturdays in their media room.

  “I don’t want to interrupt you guys or anything,” Brooke said. “I know where everything is, so . . .”

  “Stay as long as you want,” Owen said to Sean. “We’ll be upstairs finishing our movie.”

  Owen and Lin headed up the stairs with the Chihuahua trotting behind.

  “You didn’t tell him?”

  Brooke turned to look at Sean. “I didn’t want to get into it in a text message.”

  Sean shook his head and turned to examine the door. The hardware was shiny and new. “Decent locks.” He walked across the foyer and examined the keypad
. “They have an alarm system here.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think it’s activated.”

  His jaw tightened as he glanced around the house. It was expensive and spacious. More than enough room for two professionals and a miniature dog. Also, it was a safe neighborhood.

  Brooke set her duffel down beside the stairs.

  Sean surprised her by taking her hand and leading her into the darkened living room.

  “Does your family know you’ve been having trouble with your ex?”

  She sighed. “No.”

  “Will you tell your brother, please?”

  “Yes.”

  He gazed down at her, and the moment stretched out. His eyes looked so serious, and she wished she knew what he was thinking.

  “I’m sorry dinner turned into . . . all this other stuff.”

  “Brooke.” He sounded exasperated.

  And he was still holding her hand. His fingers were warm and strong, and she liked the feel of them folded around hers.

  She tugged her hand loose, and he pretended not to notice.

  “Will you be okay here?”

  “Fine. They have a really comfortable sectional.” She nodded at it, and when she glanced up at Sean again, he was looking at her like he had the other night before he’d kissed her.

  She had things to say to him, but when she tried to form a sentence, her throat tightened. “Thanks for following me over.”

  “You’re welcome.” He reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “So, you’re working tomorrow?”

  “I’ve got to catch up on some things at the lab.”

  “I’ll call you in the morning. Talk to your brother.”

  “I will.” It wasn’t fair to stay here without filling him in on what was going on, even though she dreaded the conversation. He’d never liked Matt to begin with.

  Sean eased closer, and Brooke’s heart gave a kick as he leaned down and kissed her. It was a brief brush of his lips, but then she slid her hands around his waist and pulled him close, and everything heated. She pressed against him, and he deepened the kiss. She loved the way he tasted, the way he held her. She loved the way his tongue moved against hers, the way his fingers combed into her hair.

  She didn’t know why she was doing this. She definitely needed to stop, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from him.

  It ended way too soon, and he eased back, watching her closely. “You can change your mind. My offer still stands.”

  She stepped away, letting her hands drop. “I’m fine here.”

  He looked at her for another moment, then turned to leave.

  “Sean.”

  “Yeah?”

  “The thing is, my life’s kind of a mess right now. I’m not looking to get involved with anyone.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “How is that okay? Why do you want to spend time on something that’s not going anywhere?”

  “Maybe I like where it’s going.”

  “Why? I told you I don’t want to start anything new. And I’ll save you the suspense—I’m not good at casual relationships, so sex is not happening.”

  “So noted.”

  She stared up at him, and he didn’t even blink.

  “Lock up behind me.” He gave her a long look and pulled open the door. “Good night.”

  CHAPTER 10

  The sectional wasn’t as comfortable as Brooke remembered, and she flailed around most of the night. Just before dawn, she gave up and shuffled into the kitchen, where she poked through some cabinets until she found a mug and the pods for the fancy coffeemaker.

  After a brief conversation with Owen last night about her unwanted intruder, Brooke had tried to wind down with some channel surfing. But nothing could calm her nerves, especially when her brother’s words kept playing through her head:

  I always knew I didn’t like that guy.

  Evidently, Owen’s dislike had intensified last Thanksgiving when Brooke had skipped out on dinner with her family because Matt didn’t want to deal with “the whole Thanksgiving scene.” Brooke had acquiesced. It was the first of many occasions when Matt had pressured her to spend time with him alone instead of with her family or friends.

  Why had it taken her so long to see those incidents for what they were? He’d been trying to isolate her from people who cared about her, and she’d allowed it to happen. The whole thing made her feel guilt toward her family and also disgust with herself.

  “Hey there.”

  She jumped and turned around.

  Lin smiled at her. “Sorry to scare you.”

  “I didn’t hear you come down. Did I wake you?”

  “No, I’m an early riser.” Lin took a stool at the granite island. “Unlike Owen and Chico, who can stay sacked out till noon.”

  “You want some coffee?”

  “Not yet, thanks.”

  Brooke dropped a pod into the coffeemaker and fetched some cream from the mammoth refrigerator. She liked to tease Owen about his kitchen, which was outfitted with top-of-the-line appliances even though he barely knew how to make a sandwich.

  “So, give me the gossip. What’s up with you and the cop?”

  Brooke glanced at Lin. “How’d you know he’s a cop?”

  “I knew it!”

  Brooke tried to pin down what Sean might have said or done last night to give himself away. He hadn’t been wearing a badge. He’d been armed, as always, but she doubted Lin had had a chance to notice the bulge under his jacket during their brief meeting in the dim foyer.

  “It was the eyes.”

  The coffee finished brewing and Brooke collected it from the machine. She took a stool beside Lin’s. “The eyes?”

  “Uh-huh. I dated a cop before I met Owen. They’re a hyperobservant bunch.”

  Hyperobservant. Sean definitely fit that description.

  “He noticed everything,” Lin said. “It used to drive me crazy.”

  Brooke sipped her coffee and watched the woman she hoped would one day become her sister-in-law. She couldn’t picture Lin with someone in law enforcement. “What happened with him?”

  “It was fun. Brief, though.” Lin shrugged. “We were never a fit, really. And then I met Owen and—” She gave a wistful sigh. “The first time he talked to me it was just . . . magic.”

  Wow, magic? Owen?

  Lin laughed. “You should see the look on your face. You didn’t know your brother was a girl magnet?”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  “So, back to the cop. Are you two serious?”

  “No.”

  Lin pulled back. “Alrighty then.”

  “We’re not dating. Last night was random. We’re really just friends.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What?”

  Lin shrugged. “That’s not the impression I got.”

  Brooke watched her as she took a sip. Lin was a clinical psychologist—potentially another PhD in the family—and Brooke was curious to get her take on things. But she had to be careful because anything she revealed could ultimately get back to Owen.

  “The thing is, Matt and I just broke up, so the timing’s all wrong.”

  “That was, what? Three months ago?”

  “Four, actually. But that relationship started right after things ended with me and someone else, and that was part of the problem, I think. I rushed into something new when I should have given myself some time.”

  “So, now you want some breathing room.”

  “Exactly,” Brooke said. “I don’t want to do that all over again. I don’t want to repeat the whole cycle.”

  “What cycle?”

  “My cycle. The thing I keep doing. Everything starts out great, and then I wake up one day about a year in, and everything’s all a mess, and I wonder, ‘How the hell did I end up with this guy who’s all wrong for me?’ ”

  Lin watched Brooke carefully, probably analyzing every word and no doubt diagnosing something dysfunctional about Brooke’s
MO with men.

  Lin tipped her head to the side. “So, do you believe Sean’s all wrong for you?”

  The question surprised Brooke. “No. I mean . . . I don’t know, really. He’s just . . .”

  Sean was different. He was strong without being overbearing. And he respected her space. But he also seemed determined to wait her out, even though she’d told him this thing between them wasn’t going anywhere.

  Maybe I like where it’s going.

  Brooke didn’t know if she believed that, not when he got that hungry look in his eyes, that look that made her insides all warm and fluttery.

  He seemed resolved to wait, as though he knew that she’d ultimately change her mind. She should be annoyed, but instead she felt anxious.

  What if he was right? What if he hung around long enough and she caved in to this burning attraction between them?

  Then, once again, she would have taken no time to stand on her own before plunging into something new. She didn’t want to do that this time. She wanted to prove to herself that she didn’t require a man in her life. She didn’t need rings and picket fences and all that other stuff her friends had. She was fine on her own.

  “Well?” Lin prompted. “He’s just . . . ?”

  “He’s different. At least, I think he is. We don’t know each other all that well.”

  “He wants to change that, I’m guessing.”

  “The thing is, the timing’s not right.” And that was putting it mildly. Up until recently she’d thought Matt might finally be moving on, but now she knew he wasn’t. She thought of the beer bottle and had to stifle a shudder. That was so his style, sneaking into her house just to prove he could rattle her. The whole thing was a power trip.

  She didn’t want to think what he’d do if he thought she had a new boyfriend. That would make a bad situation worse.

  Brooke shook her head. “I don’t really want to get into anything right now. It would be a big mess.”

  “What’s a big mess?”

  They turned around to see Owen standing in the doorway looking groggy and disheveled.

  “My love life,” Brooke said.

  Her brother winced. “Do I need to hear this?”

  “No.”

  “At least tell me it doesn’t involve Matt.”