A Match Made in Mystery (16 page)

“That’s me,” the guy said, pride warring with trepidation.

“Oh man. I’m your biggest fan.” Brady stuck out his hand, not believing his luck. He was standing in front of one of his heroes, shaking his hand.

“Fan of what?” Amy asked curiously.

“Roscoe Underwood is one of the greatest football players this town ever knew,” Brady told her enthusiastically. “Local boy. All-star in college. Should have gone to the Super Bowl but…” Realizing what he’d been about to say, Brady trailed off.

“But I was accused of murder.” The anger in Roscoe’s tone suddenly made the landing they stood on seem much smaller. “Lost everything.”

“I didn’t know,” Amy said softly.

“That’s one of the reasons I like you,” the giant’s voice softened. “You had no idea who I was and never wanted anything from me.”

Reaching out, he rubbed the top of Pippin’s head. She purred her appreciation. “I didn’t mean to break up your date or anything, I just wanted to tell you that Mr. Dixon signed for a package for you earlier.”

“Thank you,’ Amy said. “I’ll be sure to get it from him tomorrow.”

“Good.”

“Sometimes the super forgets to give people their deliveries,” Amy explained to Brady.

“Well I don’t want to interrupt your date or anything,” Roscoe said, taking a step away. “Nice to meet you, man.”

“Brady.”

“Nice to meet you, Brady.”

“Hey,” Brady suggested. “Maybe someday we can get a drink and relive your glory days.”

Roscoe chuckled. “I think I’d like that.” Still laughing, he strolled across the hall and let himself in.

When he was gone Brady asked, “You really had no idea who he was?”

Pushing the door open, she stepped inside. “I’m not into sports. Come in.”

Following her into the darkened room, he said, “But his murder trial was front page news.”

“I’m not into newspapers either.”

She put Pippin down on a chair. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’d like that.” He didn’t really want a drink; he just didn’t want to have to think about leaving her.

She switched on a light. “I think I’ve got a bottle of wine around here somewhere.”

Blinking as his eyes adjusted, Brady looked around. Tension gripped his entire body. “Oh my God.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked worriedly.

Brady’s eyes swept over the barren apartment.

“You’ve been robbed.”

Amy laughed. Not a polite chortle but a full-out belly laugh.

Brady stared at her incredulously. “This isn’t funny. You have to call the police.”

She shook her head.

“But you’ve been robbed.”

She smothered her laughter, but wasn’t able to stifle a smile. “Not recently.”

“Really?’ Brady spun in a slow circle, taking everything, or the lack of everything, in. “You live like this?” He sounded horrified.

“I lean toward a minimalist look,” she told him, wondering if her lack of worldly possessions was some sort of deal breaker for him.

“But…” he protested weakly.

Not wanting him to think she was a Luddite, she hurried to assure him, “I used to have a computer, but it was stolen a few months ago.”

“And you didn’t replace it?”

“Pippin needed surgery,” she explained.

Brady glanced at the cat, slowly shaking his head from side-to-side. “You never told me you’re a crazy cat lady.”

She crossed her arms defensively. “I only have one cat.”

Pippin meowed appreciatively.

“You can’t stay here,” Brady declared.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s too dangerous. You don’t have an alarm system.”

Amy blinked, unsure of where the conversation was headed. “What do I need an alarm system for?”

“Protection.”

“Protection from what?”

“Twice now you’ve saved Mildred from whoever is after her. How long do you think it will take for whoever it is to come after you?”

As much as she’d have liked to say that Brady was being unreasonable, she couldn’t argue with his logic. Especially since the cops and Alyssa had each said the same thing in their own ways.  Swallowing hard to dispel the doubt niggling at the base of her throat, she said, “I’ll be fine.”

Brady arched his eyebrows. “Really?”

“I can protect myself.”

“With what? Your attack cat?” He frowned as Pippin wove in and out between his legs.

“I have my bat.” She pointed to the baseball bat leaning against the wall.

“A cat and a bat against people who use guns and bombs.” He crossed the space separating them, grabbed her shoulders, and gave her a good shake. “Face it, Amy. You’re in danger. It’s not safe for you here.”

Knocking his hands away, she yelled, “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Leaning so close that he warmed the air between them, he whispered, “You can stay with me.”

“Somehow I don’t think that will be safe either,” she choked out as a tidal wave of heat enveloped her.

Tilting his head closer, he caught her earlobe between his teeth, nipping gently.

She leaned against him to keep from falling as her legs buckled beneath her. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her against his solid chest.

Her mind swirled. Her body wanted to just melt into him, but her brain knew it would be a bad idea. She knew she shouldn’t be making decisions like that considering everything that had happened the last couple of days.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he pledged, emotion thickening his voice.

Amy clung to him for a long moment, molding herself to him, silently cursing the clothing that kept them from connecting fully.  “I don’t know,” she cried. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t
do
this with guys I’ve just met.”

Pulling away, but hanging onto her elbows to hold her upright, Brady stared into her eyes. “What if I give you my word we won’t have sex? Would you let me keep you safe then?”

Amy considered the offer for a moment. “Yes.”

Flashing her a heart-stopping smile he told her to pack her overnight bag before letting go of her arms. “I’ll wait in the hall.”

It took Amy a long moment to regain her equilibrium. By the time she did, Brady, true to his word, was waiting in the hallway.  Despite her misgivings that she was making a terrible mistake going to his home, she packed a bag and fed Pippin.

Pulling the door closed behind her, she locked up before meeting Brady’s eyes.

While his expression was pleasant, she could still glimpse the heat in his gaze. She wondered if he could see the same in hers.

It was going to be a long night.

Brady gripped the steering wheel of his car tightly to prevent himself from reaching out and touching Amy while he drove.

He could feel the tension emanating from her.  The car was polluted with a potent sexual attraction that made it hard to think straight.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his arousal straining against his zipper.

All he wanted to do was make love to the woman beside him, and he sensed that she wanted the same, but he’d promised her he wouldn’t.

He would have promised her anything if it meant keeping her safe, but that didn’t mean he didn’t regret the pledge.

Needing to get his mind off how much he wanted to touch her, he cleared his throat and said, “Tell me about your friend, Diego.”

He felt her inquiring look, but didn’t dare take his eyes off the road, afraid he’d get lost in her eyes and crash the car.

“I told you, we’ve known each other since we were kids,” she started slowly.

“Ever more than friends?”

“We considered it, but the timing was never right and then we were old enough to figure we shouldn’t go ruining a good thing. Still, sometimes I wonder…”

A stab of jealousy twisted in Brady’s gut. “You love him?”

“He’s the only family I’ve got.”

The wistful note in her tone made Brady glance over at her. She stared out the windshield, the trace of a frown tugging her lips downward.

“Your mom didn’t have any family?”

“Died before I was born.”

“What about your dad’s family?”

“I told you, she refused to even give me his name.”

“So they could be out there?”

“Yeah.” She paused a long moment before admitting shyly, “I’m hoping that whatever this inheritance is, it leads me to them. That probably sounds stupid.”

“Not at all,” he assured her. “It’s human nature to want to connect.”

She thought about that a moment before she spoke again. “Is that why you went to a matchmaker?”

“I didn’t go to her. She came to me.” Realizing he sounded defensive, he took a breath and added calmly, “She fixed up friends of mine and approached me at their wedding. I thought she was a nut at the time, but now I’m kind of glad she did.”

Stopping for a red light, he turned and flashed a quick smile at her and got a shy one back.

He returned his attention to the traffic signal. “If she hadn’t told me to ask about the purple people eater, we wouldn’t have met.”

“But that’s not what brought us together,” Amy argued. “You ordered your drink and I made it, but we would have never met again if it wasn’t for the letter.”

He froze, realizing she was right. He hadn’t connected with her because of the drink. The only person ordering it had mattered to was Keith Hasburgh. What if Armani hadn’t given him the message so that he could meet Amy? What if it was meant as some kind of connection with Keith Hasburgh that was important?

“Brady?” Amy covered his right hand where it was wrapped around the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip. “Are you okay?”

A car horn beeped behind them. Realizing the light had turned green, he yanked his foot off the brake and slammed on the gas, causing the car to lurch forward.

“Did I say something wrong?” Amy asked worriedly.

“No.” He gained control over the car, but couldn’t get contain the thoughts ricocheting around in his brain. “Maybe I wasn’t supposed to help you.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, making it clear she was unsure of where this train of thought was heading. “Are you saying that your mother is right? That I
should
be working with Eric?”

“What? No!”

“Then what
are
you saying?” she huffed exasperatedly.

“I need to stop at the office. Do you mind?”

“Of course not.”

The tires squealed as he made an abrupt turn.

“It’s just that I really need to deal with that thing Gerald was showing me earlier.”

“On a Saturday night?”

“I should have done it the night we first met. That’s what the drink was about. It had nothing to do with you.”

“Way to make a girl feel special.” She braced herself against her seat as he took another turn too quickly.

“I was so distracted that I’ve almost let Eric get away with it.”

“Away with what?’

“Gutting Hasburgh Industries.”

Sunlight streamed in the window, causing Amy to blink as she awoke. She covered her eyes with the back of her arm, unaccustomed to the glare. The windows in her apartment faced west, which meant she wasn’t home.

It took a minute for the memory of the night before to crystallize, but as it did, she sat straight up, heart pounding.

As she’d remembered she was in Brady Stewart’s spare bedroom. After stopping to pick up files from his office, he’d brought her to his home. Making good on his promise to not have sex with her, he’d muttered insistently about needing to work and quickly stowed her in this room, like she was a virginal maiden being imprisoned in a turret to protect her purity.

Now it was morning and she was still alone. She got out of bed, changed out of the T-shirt he’d loaned her to sleep in, and grabbed her purse. Checking her phone, she saw that Diego had called her twice overnight. Guilt sliced through her as she realized he must be worried about her.

Letting herself out of the room, she padded quietly down the hallway, not wanting to wake Brady up if he was still asleep. She followed the sound of light snoring and found herself standing before a door that was slightly ajar. Pushing the door open a bit more, she peered inside and saw Brady, sprawled across the bed. She watched as his shirtless chest rose and fell.

Feeling like she was intruding on his privacy, she backed away. She let herself out onto the front porch and settled into a rustic swing to return Diego’s call. She hadn’t dialed his number yet, when the sound of a throat being cleared startled her.

Whirling toward the sound, she found Brady’s mother watching her.

“You scared me,” Amy said, covering her galloping heart with her hand.

The other woman stared at her silently.

Forcing herself to smile, Amy said, “Good morning, Mrs. Stewart. “

“Morning.”

“I’m afraid Brady’s still asleep.”

His mother cocked an eyebrow.

Heat flooded Amy’s face when she realized the other woman no doubt assumed that she and Brady had been intimate. “He was kind enough to let me use his guestroom,” Amy hurriedly explained.

“He can be too kind for his own good.”