by Terri Reed
Because she wouldn’t ask for his love.
He may not be an officer on the Boston police force but he was a lawman, a sheriff. She understood why he was an officer of the law, and she could never ask him to give that up. Nor could she live with it. She wanted normal, stable. No risks, no surprises. Peace and security.
But she also wanted Brody.
The dilemma left her head reeling. And with Brody crowding her senses, her rationale for not giving in to the moment paled to a paltry nuisance, like a mosquito flying about her head.
Lord, what do I do?
She searched her heart, hoping for some sign, some message telling her to back off or go ahead. There were only her feelings, her wants clamoring to be heard. But giving in to them would put her heart at risk. “Brody, we shouldn’t…I can’t. You’re…”
“I’m what?”
His deep voice rasped across her senses, weakening her resolve. She took a shuddering breath. She wanted there to only be honesty between them. “There’s no future for us, Brody. Your life is too full of danger. I can’t be like my mother, always wondering, worrying if you’d come home at the end of the day. I want peace and security. You can’t offer me that.”
“No, I can’t,” he agreed, though his lips still hovered close, beckoning.
Yearning welled, urging her to take what he offered, if only for the moment. “We really shouldn’t start something that we can’t finish,” she mused more to herself than to him.
He made a noise of agreement in his throat and then lifted his chin to softly press his lips to her forehead. The chaste kiss left her frustrated and yearning for what could never be.
“Like I said, an amazing woman.” He released her and stepped away. “Let’s go. I’m sure my mom is anxiously waiting for us.”
She told herself she should be relieved and grateful he’d let her go so easily, but she couldn’t help feeling as if she’d just let something wonderful slip through her grasp.
It wasn’t God’s plan.
Brody chewed on that statement as he eased Kate along the park’s paved path toward his childhood home. Though his pulse had slowed to a normal rate, he had to force his mind to concentrate on the tidbit of wisdom Kate had doled out and not on the kiss they’d almost shared.
If it wasn’t God’s plan that his father die, that Brody would be betrayed by the woman he’d thought he’d loved, then why had they happened? Why did any of the bad things in life happen? Where was God’s grace?
Kate talked about choices. Somewhere inside his soul he knew that to be true. Probably some long-forgotten Sunday-school lessons hidden deep in the recesses of his being. Church had been a constant in the McClain family for as long as he could remember. His mother still attended, but after his father’s death, Brody couldn’t go. He’d felt too hurt, too guilty to seek God.
But ever since Kate had stepped into his life, the faith he’d turned away from kept nudging at him, reminding him of the truths he’d learned as a boy. Reminding him of the betrayal he’d felt when his father died.
He still didn’t understand God’s plan. He wasn’t sure he ever would or even if he wanted to. He didn’t want his guilt confirmed. Didn’t want to know that had he obeyed his father, his father would still be alive. He didn’t deserve God’s grace.
Kate stumbled on a rut in the blacktop path. Brody gripped her elbow tighter as she leaned into him for a moment. He caught a faint whiff of her lilac scent and thought of the freshness of spring. Her curves pressed into his side for a split second before she straightened and continued on. His mouth went dry.
He vividly remembered the feel of those curves, soft and yielding. She’d felt so good, so right in his arms. She made him feel alive.
She was right to call a halt to…he didn’t even know what to call that moment on the bridge. Another lapse in judgment? How many times was he going to ignore his vow not to let her in, to let her close?
Kissing her again would have been a huge mistake. Because this time it would have been from wanting her rather than hoping to distract her. And wanting her was not something he intended to let happen. Not again.
He looked up and found they’d come to the edge of the park and stood on the sidewalk facing the two-story home he’d grown up in. His chest tightened. As a boy running home from the park he’d never taken the time to notice how colorful his mother’s flowers were, nor how comforting it was to have a place to come home to, to feel safe in.
Comfort welled up and clogged his throat. All the good memories in his life were here in this house. It had taken time away for him to really appreciate the life his mother had worked so hard to provide for her children after his father’s death.
“Brody?” Kate’s uncertain, tentative expression tugged at his heart.
He smiled with reassurance. “The white house with the green shutters and the tall oak in the front yard. That’s where I grew up.” He pointed to the second-story window on the right. “My brothers and I shared that room.”
“Is that one of your brothers there, by the black car?”
Noticing the black BMW sedan parked on the street, Brody raised a brow. His younger brother leaned against the side of the car, dressed in his uniform, a dark blue pin-striped suit and red tie. He held a cell phone to his ear in one hand while the other hand gestured wildly to punctuate whatever he was saying.
Brotherly love gripped Brody. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his siblings. “Yes, that’s Ryan, the financial mogul. He’s also the baby in the family.” His little brother who’d followed him around, dogging his steps. “Only don’t let him know I said that. The last time I referred to Ryan as the baby, we both came away from the ensuing scuffle with black eyes and bruised egos.”
Kate chuckled. “I won’t tell.”
They crossed the street. Brody’s first inclination was to guide her straight up the front stairs and into the house to avoid the inevitable questions from his little brother about the pretty woman on his arm, but Ryan waved to him and Brody resigned himself to engaging with his gregarious younger sibling.
Brody didn’t know why he’d thought he’d be able to bring Kate home without being grilled like a fish on the barbecue. His family was all about sharing the details. Something he’d not relished growing up.
Kate stepped off to the side by the gate as Brody moved closer to the black car.
“We’ll close at half a mil and no less.” Ryan made a face at the person on the phone. “Think about it. We’ll talk tomorrow. Gotta go.” He clicked his phone closed and shook his head before slipping the small silver technological wonder into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. Pleasure lit up his brown gaze. “Well. Are my eyes deceiving me or is that my big brother?”
“One of them,” Brody responded drily.
Ryan came off the car in a flash, his facing breaking into an easy smile as he engulfed Brody in a bear hug. “Mom’s going to be beside herself.”
Brody returned the embrace. Ryan was no longer the scrawny kid who used to trail after him. His little brother had filled out and grown nearly as tall as himself. Brody felt a pang of guilt for not having kept in better contact with his siblings and for not having helped their older brother Patrick more.
Patrick had stepped in as head of the McClains after their father was killed. Brody had been too traumatized at first even to be aware of how their father’s death affected his siblings. Then he’d put all his energy and effort into becoming an officer to carry on in his father’s place.
He clapped Ryan on the shoulder as they parted. “You don’t look worse for the wear.”
Ryan nodded, his chest puffing up slightly. “I do well for myself.”
“I know. I’ve heard. Wheeling and dealing.” His mother had told him of his younger brother’s passion for accumulating. Brody hoped it wouldn’t lead Ryan down a bad path.
He decided when this thing with Kate was over, he’d sit his little brother down and have a long-overdue chat about how money didn�
�t solve problems. Though he doubted Ryan would listen to him. He certainly never had growing up. Why would he start now?
“Wheeling and dealing is what I do best,” Ryan said.
Brody couldn’t deny that. Ryan had always had an entrepreneurial spirit. Even as a young boy, he’d found ways to make money. Mowing lawns for the neighbors, washing cars for the officers at the station, setting up a lemonade stand. Not just on the sidewalk in front of their house or even the corner of the street. No, Ryan would trudge deep into the park and put his stand near whichever sporting event was taking place. He always came home with his pockets filled with coins. His success probably had more to do with his charm than his lemonade. A good-looking kid, he’d been a big hit, especially with the ladies.
Something that hadn’t changed over the years according to his mother. Ryan was the charming one. Always bringing around different girls but never sticking with one for very long.
On the heels of that thought Brody noticed the curious and assessing stare Ryan was giving Kate.
“Who’s this lovely lady?” Ryan asked.
“A friend.”
Ryan raised a brow. “Mother will be pleased. You don’t often bring home ‘friends.’”
Brody ground his back teeth together. He should have anticipated the assumptions his family would jump to. All he’d been thinking about was keeping Kate safe and getting her somewhere to rest. “It’s not like that.”
“What a shame,” Ryan murmured and moved toward Kate. Brody didn’t like the predatory gleam in Ryan’s eyes or the grin spreading across the face that had captured and broken many hearts.
“Hello, I’m Ryan McClain.” He offered his hand to Kate, his voice charming, smooth.
Brody frowned.
She took his hand, pink brightening her cheeks.
Brody drew back, not liking the way she was reacting and definitely not liking that he even noticed.
“Kate Wheeler,” she said, sounding bemused.
“It’s a pleasure.” Ryan pressed a kiss to the smooth skin on the back of Kate’s hand. Her eyes widened and her blush deepened.
An abrupt blast of possessiveness hit Brody like the potent sting of pepper spray. He moved to Kate’s side and placed his hand on the small of her back in a purely territorial way. Both Kate and Ryan stared at him in obvious surprise.
“We should go in,” Brody said to cover his reaction.
The knowing glint in Ryan’s eyes clearly stated he wasn’t fooled. Brody chose not to meet Kate’s gaze as he ushered her up the front stairs and into the house.
Brody’s mind tried to get around what had just happened. He’d never felt anything like this before, not even for Elise. Protectiveness was one thing, but possessiveness? He mentally turned a deaf ear to the warning bells in his head. Now was not the time to try to deal with his foolishness. He needed to keep focused on his purpose for coming to Boston—to protect Kate and find out the truth about why her husband had been killed.
There couldn’t be anything more between them than that. He just didn’t have it in him to trust anyone that much.
Kate followed Brody as he pushed open the heavy oak front door with the stained-glass windows.
“Mom?” Brody called out.
“Probably in the garden,” Ryan stated from behind Kate.
She tried to control the nervous ripple along her limbs at the prospect of meeting Brody’s mother. She told herself it was natural to be wary of meeting someone new, but deep down she wanted Mrs. McClain to like her. Though it shouldn’t matter. She wasn’t Brody’s girl.
But Ryan had said Brody didn’t often bring home friends. Which meant Brody hadn’t introduced his mother to many of the woman he’d dated. Had he brought home the woman who’d hurt him? Jealousy stirred, taking her by surprise. She had no right to feel possessive of him. She held no claim on his affections. No matter what her fanciful heart wished.
She stepped into the foyer and was struck by the bright cheerfulness of the home.
A gleaming hardwood floor stretched beneath her feet and extended into the living room to the left and the formal dining area to the right. A staircase with a polished mahogany banister led to the second floor. She could see the tiled floors and granite counters of the kitchen straight ahead.
The living room was a profusion of color against dark fabrics and wood-paneled walls. Throw rugs and pillows of assorted shapes looked artlessly placed, yet the whole effect was very welcoming. All sorts of fresh flowers in vases of various styles filled every available space.
Her gaze was drawn to the gilt-framed oil painting above a beautiful mantel and fireplace. The McClain family stared back at her and a sense of awe filled her.
A handsome, uniformed man stood in the background. Dark hair, intense ebony eyes. Brody’s father. Kate wondered what type of man he had been. Flanking him on either side were two dark-haired sons. Kate immediately knew which was Brody.
She recognized the earnest smile and wavy hair. She guessed him to be nine. The other boy was taller with a proud tilt to his square jaw and just a hint of a smile as if he hadn’t been sure he wanted to relax.
Seated in front of Brody’s father was a striking woman with long black hair and crystal-blue eyes. A young girl stood beside her mother, their resemblance uncanny. Both possessed high cheekbones and fair skin. Meghan McClain had also inherited her mother’s blue eyes.
A small boy sat on Mrs. McClain’s lap. Ryan. Even as a child, his grin was devastating and there was no mistaking the impish light in his dark eyes. Such a lovely family. Sadness touched Kate’s heart. This family had lost their father and husband not too many years after this portrait had been done.
“Kate.”
She blinked back the tears threatening to escape and turned to find Brody’s gaze searching her face. Aware that Ryan stood casually poised by the door frame watching them, she said, “Your home is beautiful.”
“I don’t live here anymore.”
“But it’s still your home.” Her gaze and her pronouncement included both brothers.
“You hear that, Brody? Sometimes I think you’ve forgotten.” Ryan’s softly spoken words held a bit of reprimand but also a dose of hope, as if reminding his older brother that he was still welcome at home might bring him back more often.
A hint of a smile curled the ends of Brody’s mouth. “I haven’t forgotten.”
The men exchanged a silent communication that excluded Kate. Yet, she didn’t feel slighted. Instead, a warm glow spread through her. She’d witnessed the bond being strengthened between the two brothers. She’d always wished she’d had siblings.
Then Brody shifted his gaze back to her. Eagerness and tenderness mingled in his expression and melted her heart. “Come out back. I’d like you to meet my mother.”
Her mouth went dry. What was she doing? Meeting Brody’s mother and being in his childhood home went against the idea of not getting too involved. But she was here and she wouldn’t be rude, not after all that Brody had done for her.
She took Brody’s offered hand just as the ringing of a phone startled her. Her hand convulsively tightened around Brody’s at the jarring noise. Ryan withdrew his small silver cell phone from his pocket and headed up the staircase.
Brody gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “A little jumpy?”
She smiled sheepishly. “After the day—no, make that the last month, or year, even—I’ve had, I think I’m allowed.”
His dark eyes twinkled. “You are indeed. You’re holding up well, Kate. I’m proud of you.”
His words made her feel empowered and pleased. She liked that he’d think of her that way. She was holding up well, considering someone was trying to kill her and she was growing attached to a man who’d eventually have no more reason to be in her life.
She didn’t want to consider why that thought left her more scared than thoughts of her unknown assassins.
FOURTEEN
Brody tugged her hand, urging her to follow him through th
e kitchen and out the back door into an incredible yard. A brick patio extended from the door about five feet, then a lush lawn, broken only by wood-rimmed flower beds and four distinctive trees ended at the dark-stained fence encircling the whole area.
A woman with a trowel in her gloved hand knelt beside a multi-colored rainbow of perennials. She was dressed in blue denim overalls, a red shirt and green rubber garden shoes. She flipped a long, dark braid over her shoulder as she turned her head at the sound of their approach.
Bright, clear blue eyes widened for a fraction of a second before unabashed joy spread over the older woman’s face. Mrs. McClain gave a cry of glee before she scrambled to her feet and hurried to throw herself into Brody’s arms.
Kate hung back, feeling uncomfortable watching the affectionate reunion. She’d never had that kind of reaction from her parents. Her father might go as far as to shake her hand and her mother…well, if she were sober she might give her a stiff hug. But certainly not with the kind of happiness Brody was receiving from his mother.
“Let me look at you.” Brody’s mom held him at arm’s length. Though she wasn’t as tall as her middle son, her carriage and presence made her a statuesque woman. “I scarcely believed Sean when he called to say you’d been at the station.”
Mrs. McClain’s gaze captured Kate over Brody’s shoulder. Kate straightened under the curiosity and was relieved to see the smile now directed at her was genuine.
Mrs. McClain turned wide eyes to Brody. “Don’t be rude, son. Introduce me to your friend.”
Brody’s neck reddened, but the expression on his face was tender.
Kate swallowed back the choking guilt for using him so ruthlessly.
“Mother, this is Kate Wheeler.”
Mrs. McClain peeled off her garden gloves and tossed them onto a wooden bench before holding out her hand. “Hello, Kate.”
She took the offered hand, liking the woman’s forthright way. “Hello, Mrs. McClain. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The older woman held on to her hand for a moment. Her blue eyes searched Kate’s face before she responded. “I’m happy you’re here. And please, call me Colleen.”
