Abrupt Changes: A Second Chance Romance (O-Town Book 3)

by Karen Renee

  My head tilted. “Did he now?”

  He shot a mischievous grin at me. “No. That was your mother he was talking about. Penny and I will be fine, so you can go shower or whatever.”

  He turned to my mom. “It’s all right if I call you Penny, right, Mrs. Connelly?”

  “Sure thing,” Mom said.

  I probably could’ve fought off Mom’s pushiness about going out with Clint, but add Brock to the mix and I knew when to give in.

  “Fine. I’ll be out in twenty minutes.”

  “You got plenty of time,” Brock muttered to his plate.

  Mom laughed. “I like you already, Brock.”

  He pointed his fork at her. “You say that now. Wait ’til I beat you at Triominos.”

  Mom laughed harder, and for once I had something to smile about.

  WHEN I CAME OUT OF my bedroom, Brock and Mom were still at the kitchen table. Their plates were gone, the lazy Susan had been moved to the counter, and Triominos were spread on the table.

  Mom broke into a lopsided smile when she noticed me. I figured it was the dress. Her neighbor, Tanya, had put on some weight after her second child and she insisted on giving me her periwinkle tank-dress. I had thought the light hue wouldn’t work with my red-hair and brown eyes, but I was pleasantly surprised to find it complimented my complexion. The skirt flared and it looked very much like a skater-dress. Luckily it said ‘casual’ because the only other dress I brought with me was black.

  I shook my head at her, but she ignored it.

  “You look nice, Rae.”

  “Thank you, Mom.”

  Brock looked appreciative, but before anyone could say anything, Clint bellowed from the front of the house. “Sullivan! Get your ass out here.”

  I turned to Brock and wondered how he would respond to this. He winked at me – or Mom. Or maybe both of us.

  “No can do, Clint. Penny and I have a full dance card tonight. We just started a serious match of Triominos. She’s in the hole by double digits—”

  “Wish you were double digits in my hole,” Mom muttered.

  My eyes widened and I bit out, “Mom!”

  Brock seemed oblivious to this, since he continued. “And it is my sworn duty as a Sullivan to teach her Thirty-one Knock since I cannot believe she’s lived seventy years without being exposed to one of the best card games around.”

  Mom’s eyes never left Brock and when I saw her sly smile, I braced for what she might say.

  “Poker’s the best game around, dear,” she said in a sweet tone.

  Brock pondered it. “It can be.”

  “Strip poker in particular,” she added.

  I gasped. “Mother!”

  Clint’s heavy footsteps came closer.

  She chuckled. “You might be limiting my nut intake, Rae, but you’re not gonna limit my fun.”

  Brock chuckled. “Sorry, Miss Penny. My woman wouldn’t like me playing that kind of poker with you.” He leaned closer to Mom. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to give you another stroke when I lose.”

  I hadn’t seen Mom attempt such a bright smile all week. “That would be the best way to go, Brock.”

  My eyes closed and I hung my head. I looked back to Brock. “I am sorry. My mom has never been so... saucy, I guess you might say.”

  “Oh, just say it, Raegan. I’m a dirty old woman. Lucky for the next man in your life, you’re an apple which didn’t fall too far from my tree.”

  I looked away but stopped when I heard Clint’s deep chuckle. “She’s got you there, Rae.”

  Chapter 2

  That Woman

  Raegan

  IN THE PAST, CLINT wore cologne or aftershave, but it was always mild and understated. However, as I closed the door to the SUV, the entire cab smelled like his cologne. It served as another reminder that he wasn’t wearing the same scent as he used to. On the one hand, it made me sad, but on the other hand, what else could I expect?

  I shook my head, wondering why I was dwelling on it.

  He started the engine and he turned off the radio. As he motored out of the neighborhood, I saw him glance at me.

  “Your mother actually is doing better. Considering,” he said.

  I looked at him. “Considering, what? The fact she’s had two strokes?”

  His eyes cut to me, and I realized I needed to dial back my attitude.

  “No, Raegan. Especially considering she’s seventy-one. She’s getting better, but really, she’d need more care as she gets up—”

  I didn’t want to contemplate Mom getting older, since once she was gone, I’d be alone in the world.

  To stop him, I interrupted. “There are seventy-year-old women who don’t need—”

  “Are they married?”

  I sighed.

  “Exactly. What I’m trying to say is, she shouldn’t be in that house by herself.”

  I scoffed. “Have you told her that?”

  He chuckled. “I did. In fact, it came up when she gave me her key.”

  My brows furrowed and I stared at his profile. “That doesn’t make sense, Clint. You said she gave you that key before Bronwyn had to stay with her. Why would you drop by?”

  He concentrated on making a left across a busy street. I thought it was a ruse to evade my question, but once he pulled into an apartment complex, he spoke.

  “The ‘why’ isn’t important, Raegan. What matters is that your mom knew she was slowing down, and rather than burden either you or your sister with it, she asked me to check in on her occasionally.” He parked the SUV and kept speaking. “It was only after the first stroke it came clear Wynnie would have to live with her.”

  I opened my mouth to reply, but he unfolded from the vehicle, forcing me to follow suit.

  When I met him on the sidewalk, Clint commandeered the conversation. “Now, Cassandra is Gabe’s woman, and she was shot a month and a half ago.”

  My eyes widened, my lips parted, and I looked away from him. I looked back to him. “You should’ve told me that in the car, so I’d be sitting down.”

  He grinned sheepishly and shrugged. “Sorry. Besides, you’re strong enough to hack it. I’m just lettin’ you know since that has something to do with why they invited me to dinner.”

  I nodded. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  The man who opened the apartment door to us was the spitting image of Brock, only leaner. He wore a pair of Army-green cargo shorts with a heather-gray t-shirt sporting the UCF logo on it.

  Clint said, “Gabe, this is Raegan Connelly. Raegan, this is Gabe Sullivan.”

  I reached out to shake his hand, but he raised my hand to his lips. “Pleasure to meet you, Raegan.”

  A svelte brunette bustled over from the kitchen and held her hand out to me. “Hi. I’m Cassandra Daughtry.”

  After we did the introductions, Cassandra got us drinks. She raised her wine glass at us. “To Clint. There’s no telling what—”

  “No, Cassie. We’re not drinking to that,” Clint said.

  Gabe said, “Man, like I—”

  “No,” Clint said, in a much firmer tone. “We’re not discussing that. Not trying to be rude, but let’s drink to you, your woman, and the future ahead of you both.”

  We raised our glasses, but an awkward silence followed the toast.

  A timer went off, and Cassie and Gabe went about serving dinner.

  AFTER WE ATE, I INSISTED on helping with the dishes. Gabe reluctantly let me take his place drying. He and Clint shot the breeze at the table until Clint’s cell rang.

  I watched as he sauntered out to the balcony. After the door was closed, I caught Gabe’s eyes. “What was it he didn’t want to talk about?”

  He sighed.

  I shifted my gaze to Cassie. “Do you know?”

  She looked to Gabe, so I looked back at him. “One of you needs to tell me.”

  “He did something that wasn’t easy,” Gabe said.

  “That’s an understatement,” Cassie muttered.

  “Cas
sie.”

  Her eyes flared. “Gabe, seriously! Him shooting Asher to keep me from being shot again is the very definition of heroic in my book.”

  My body stiffened with this knowledge, but I nodded because she was right. Preventing anybody from being shot twice was damn sure heroic. Yet, I wondered why he didn’t want them talking about it. Before I left for New York, he had been a beat cop, carried a gun, and routinely went to target practice. Finding out what he’d done for Cassie wouldn’t have bothered me, so I didn’t understand why it obviously bothered Clint.

  The balcony door sliding open interrupted my contemplation.

  “Sorry, Gabe. Cassie. I hate for us to eat and run, but I have to get Raegan back, since a case I’m on is heating up.”

  Gabe nodded. Cassie opened her arms to me, and I gave her a light hug.

  “It was so nice to meet you, Raegan. Have a great evening.”

  I thanked them both for having us, and Clint guided me downstairs to his SUV.

  Mid-way to Mom’s house, I asked, “Does that happen often? You getting called away in the evening?”

  He looked to me and back to the road. “Not that often, but it happens.”

  I nodded, since the tone of his voice made me regret asking.

  He blew out a breath. “Would’ve thought you’d be done with that shit by now.”

  I glared at him. “What shit?”

  “Asking what my hours would be like, or what they are like. It damn sure doesn’t matter now.”

  I closed my eyes, willing myself to keep my thoughts to myself. Unfortunately, my self didn’t comply.

  “Then why would it matter if your friends shared that you killed a man to keep Cassie alive? Why were you so intent on keeping that from coming up? I’m well aware of the training you went through to become a police officer.”

  He parallel parked in front of Mom’s house, put the SUV in park, and threw his arm on top of the steering wheel. His eyes were fierce and fiery like earlier, but with an edge of something I couldn’t put my finger on. It might have been disdain, but I didn’t understand why.

  “Yeah. You were around when I went through the academy. But you weren’t around when your sister was killed.”

  My lungs froze. I wanted to slap him, but my brain froze along with my breath.

  “Then again, neither was I,” he muttered, as he turned away from me.

  That kicked my brain into gear. “Why would you have been?”

  He looked at me askance. “Get out of the truck, Rae. I’d walk you in, but I don’t have time. And I damn sure don’t have time for this asinine conversation.”

  I leaned back in the seat. “There’s nothing asinine about finding out why you blame yourself for Wynnie’s murder.”

  He looked at me for a beat, shook his head, and then lifted his chin toward the house. “Go. I got shit to do, Raegan.”

  My lips were pursed. After a moment I gave him a curt nod. “Thanks for tonight. I’m sorry it ended on such a sour note.”

  WHEN I ENTERED THE living room, I found Brock on the couch watching a college football game.

  Since there was no sign of Mom, I asked, “Did she need help getting into bed or anything?”

  He grinned while turning off the TV. “Nah. Told me she was going to sleep in her housedress.”

  My posture slumped, but I pasted a smile on my face. “Well, thank you. Let me check on her quick before you leave.”

  His grin became a smile, and my first impression of him was spot-on: Brock was a stunner. “No need, Raegan. I checked on her twenty minutes ago. She’s asleep, and she changed out of her housedress.”

  My brows furrowed. “She did? Normally I have to help her.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t tell her, but I let her win the second round of Thirty-one Knock. Could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure it put a spring in her step.”

  I grinned. “I suspect you’re right. Well, thank you. If there’s anything I can do to repay you—”

  His chin dipped. “No. For one thing, Ramsey would kick my ass, and for another, spending time with your mother was a pleasure.”

  I gave him a skeptical look. “Bet time with Cecilia would be more pleasurable.”

  He shook his head. “That goes without saying. Did Clint leave already?”

  I nodded. “He got a call at your brother’s. Something about a case.”

  His eyebrows jumped up. “Seems strange he wouldn’t walk you inside at least.”

  I huffed out a breath. “Not the way we left it.” He gave me a quizzical look, and I shrugged. “I’m speculating, but based on our limited conversation, it seems he blames himself for my sister being killed.”

  “Isn’t that looking like it was ‘accidental?’”

  I gave him a look. “It was no accident. And Clint said as much in passing.”

  His brows drew together. “Come again?”

  “Told me I wasn’t here when my sister was killed. Then he muttered something about him not being here for her either,” I sighed and stupidly blurted, “Almost makes me wonder if he had something going on with her.”

  Brock scoffed, only to start choking.

  I moved closer to him. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded. “He didn’t have anything going on with your sister.”

  My lips twisted with cynicism. “That’s not something he’d tell you, now, is it?”

  His head turned a fraction. “No. And yes. He told me two years ago when he first came calling on your mother. And that was before your sister had to move in.”

  I sighed. “Well, seeing as he’s been coming around for so long, who knows? I suppose he and Bronwyn could’ve—”

  “He didn’t. They didn’t.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but stopped himself.

  I shook my head. “You’re right. Wynnie would never do that to me.”

  His expression softened for a moment before he shuttered it. “Right. You have a good night, Raegan. And be sure to lock up after me.”

  Clint

  FOUR HOURS AFTER I dropped off Raegan, I walked into the Otero-Silva offices.

  Our covers had nearly been blown tonight. It would be easy for me to blame this on Evan Dylan, the other operative on the case.

  He was capable. But that was all I could say about him.

  Seriously.

  Like Brock, this guy was still in his probationary period, but where Brock had instincts and caught on in the field, Evan did not. And I was starting to wonder if he ever would.

  So, I could blame tonight’s near-failure on the new guy, but it wasn’t in me to lie. The subject nearly spotted us because of Evan’s moves, but also because my head was preoccupied with Raegan.

  If I had been focused, I’d have prevented Evan’s fuck-up long before it happened.

  Hell, striding into the offices, I realized I’d gotten here on sheer autopilot since my head still wasn’t in the in the game.

  I should have cut my connection with Penny and Bronwyn months ago. For some reason I couldn’t harden my heart to do that to them.

  Being around Raegan for the first time in over nine years threw me a curveball.

  At least I left Penny with over a dozen cans of peanuts.

  That would last her for a while. Certainly, long enough for me to avoid Rae until she went back to New York.

  My chest burned as I thought about her leaving. I didn’t need to deal with that pain again. It was bad enough ten years ago, and the final blow-up when I visited her in the Big Apple after she’d lived there for a year was the worst.

  Bronwyn should still be alive. If I hadn’t been working this damned case, I would’ve been there four nights ago.

  Yet, this rich asshole wanted physical proof of his wife cheating on him. All the better for his divorce. Having worked for Otero-Silva for the past seven years, I’d figured out that any spouse who suspected the other of cheating most likely was committing adultery themselves.

  Still, I was grateful to take Raegan home early. Spending tim
e with her, in any capacity, opened a wound I thought had scarred over but hadn’t. Her trepidation around me notwithstanding, it was like old times. The beauty of her personality came through even with people she had just met.

  I clenched my teeth and shoved the thoughts aside. This case had eaten up more of my time than it should have, and my resentment grew by the day. Tonight had not helped matters.

  “Sir. Sorry things didn’t go smoother tonight.”

  Otero sat back in his swivel chair. “Bet you are. Investigator Dylan said you were spaced out. What the hell’s going on?”

  I pressed my lips together and exhaled through my nose. “It won’t happen again, sir.”

  He flicked a pencil out of his hand onto the desk. “Really? Then why were you spotted outside the Connelly residence today?”

  My eyes widened and he held a hand up to me.

  “I don’t have anyone tailing you. A police detective working that case pulled up right after you left. He called to find out if we’d been hired to investigate privately. I already knew you’d been over there in the days just afterward, but you can’t blame yourself for that woman’s death.”

  ‘That woman.’ Thank God neither Raegan nor Penny was here. They’d lose their minds. Hell, I was about to lose my mind.

  “She was murdered, Paul.”

  “People have household accidents, Clint.”

  “If we were talking about Penny, you’d be right. A thirty-eight-year-old woman who used to be a star swimmer, I’m not so quick to add her to the accident statistics chart.”

  A muscle ticked in Otero’s cheek before he slid his lips to the side. “That’s a good point. She fall?”

  “When Penny found her, Bronwyn was in the tub and a glass of wine sat on the ledge of the tub. She might have fallen asleep or, depending on her blood alcohol levels, she might have passed out. Medical examiner reports haven’t come back yet, so we just don’t know yet.”

  “We? Were you dating her?”

  I shook my head. “No. Ten years ago, I was serious with her younger sister. Even after we broke up, Penny sent me Christmas cards and a birthday card.”