Energized (16 page)

“Right. Just Niall. Nothing else.” She nodded but the note in her voice made him want to ask what she wanted to call him. She'd called him
Marine
that night, as if it were a nickname or she was claiming him somehow. But she hadn't done it since she'd arrived in Tidewater. Given the distance she was putting between them now, it didn't look like she was going to do it anytime soon.

Again, that bereft sensation echoed in his chest.

He started the engine of the truck. “So where to now? Clothes? Let me guess, you're not a boutique kind of woman.”

“No, I usually shop at thrift stores. Best clothes at the cheapest prices. Considering my body shape, it's too expensive to buy separates retail.”

“And it has nothing to do with your hippie ways about reusing things.”

“You think you know me so well.” There was a note of snark in her voice but the sparkle in her beautiful eyes ignited.

“I've been in your place. Everything was used. Well preserved but secondhand.” He pulled back on the road and tried to remember the nearest vintage clothing store.

“Except my art supplies. They were new and top of the line. It's where my money went. Well, that and electrician's school.” She cleared her throat. The spark in her eyes had vanished again, replaced with exhaustion.

“How about we do this in a few hours? Let me take you home and you can get some rest.”

She shook her head. “I don't feel comfortable. Karma's not there and I don't want to wake Zig.”

“Are you afraid of him for some reason?” Niall worried not only for Hannah but for his friend too.

“Oh, no. I don't want to cause him any trouble with those detectives. I heard them talking about him. Saying they'll get him busted down to desk duty permanently when they prove I killed the guy. It wouldn't be nice of me to risk his career when all he and Karma have done is try to help me.”

“I think you're not giving him enough credit.”

“Or you're not giving those guys enough.” She shook her
head and yawned. “If you'll take me to an ATM, I'll rent another hotel room.”

“Don't be ridiculous. Stay at my house. I've got room.”

She hesitated, twisting her pink braid between her fingers. “I thought you wanted to keep this strictly professional. What would it look like if I slept at your place?”

“Like one of my staff members needed my help again.” He paused knowing he was telling her a half-truth. Sure, he'd let staff crash at his place after an event. But that staff was his brother. He never invited the waitstaff, chefs, or busboys to spend the night. But this wasn't the night. And she was exhausted. “You won't be the first staff member to sleep at my place. You don't need to rent a hotel room right now. You
need
sleep. You'll feel better in a few hours. If you're worried about me, I won't be there. I need to head to the Boxing Cat to tend to last-minute details for tomorrow's wedding.”

“God, that's tomorrow.” She looked like she might break down again, but then pulled herself together with sheer will. “I don't know if Karma told you or not, but the bride, is, um . . . my oldest sister.”

W
HAT
WERE
THE
odds? Maybe there was something to her faith in signs and the universe.

“Have you called her yet?” Niall asked, turning off the highway and onto his cul-de-sac. His parents' house, well, his house now, stood tall and proud at the center of the turnaround. Pushing the button on the car visor, he raised the garage door.

“No. There was no time. I didn't find out until yesterday afternoon, then we were slammed with guests. Then . . .” She didn't need to explain further.

“Got it. Do you want to call her now?” Niall put the truck in park, closed the garage door, killed the ignition, and started to head inside the house. Hannah followed him.

“No. She's getting married tomorrow. I don't want my first time talking to her in years to happen when I'm confuzzled and weepy. I want her to like me.”

“She's going to love you,” Niall said automatically, then fell silent. Because, yeah, this wasn't awkward. He held the kitchen door open for her. “Come on in, Hannah.”

She stepped inside and stared. Not that he could blame her. “The motif is a little eighties for my taste, but Mom loved it. She picked out the blue rooster wallpaper herself.”

Hannah turned a wide-eyed stare in his direction. “Your mother decorated your house?”

“What? You lived over your parents' bar. Don't look at me like that.” He waited another beat, then confessed, “I grew up in this house. My parents gave it to me when they moved into their condo. They were going to sell it, but I convinced them to let me fix it up first. Only the kitchen looks like something out of a John Hughes movie. I just couldn't change it yet.”

“Too sentimental?” she asked, running her hand over the chipped white enamel stove top.

“Hardly.” He laughed. “I was saving this room for last because it's going to cost the most to upgrade. I want top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances and new bamboo flooring. I want to build a center island with a bar. Plus, I need to rewire half the kitchen because whoever did it thirty years ago got a few things backward. Like the light switch over here doesn't work in this room but turns on the fan in the living room.”

Hannah swept her gaze around the room with a smile. “I can help with the wiring here. Once I get a few tools replaced. I like your vision for the kitchen. It's gonna be great.”

She yawned. Huge. Like he could see her tonsils.

And damn, he'd forgotten why he'd brought her here in the first place.

“Come on.” He led her up the stairs to his guest room, then immediately slammed the door closed before she could see it.

Ross, you selfish bastard. Learn to pick up your shit.

He crossed the hall to his room and opened the door. “You can sleep in here.”

Hannah stepped inside, a frown on her face. The immaculate room had a framed picture of him in his dress blues hanging on one wall. An extra-wide two-row bookcase was filled with novels by everyone from Tom Clancy to Tess Gerritsen. The tan carpeting was freshly laid, clean, and recently vacuumed. His tan-colored dresser was neat, all of his clothes
put away. He'd even dusted this morning when he couldn't sleep. So there was nothing out of place.

Still she frowned.

“Something wrong?” he asked, automatically standing at parade rest.

“This looks like your bedroom.” She glanced around. “Not that I mind, but where are you going to sleep?”

“It is my room. Unlike you, I slept last night. I've got errands to do and a business to run. I'm going to help you get settled. Then head out.” He strode to the bed and turned down the light blanket and top sheet. Then he pulled his favorite Marines T-shirt out of a drawer and handed it to her. “Here, this will be more comfortable to sleep in.”

She took it and hugged it close to her chest.

What he wouldn't give to see her wearing it.

And that evoked a physical reaction that was totally inappropriate since he was only interested in helping her.

Right. Lie some more, dickhead.

She glanced around the spacious room nervously, then up at him. The wariness and exhaustion in her eyes made him want to reach out and hold her again. Help her out of her wrinkled clothes and into his shirt.

The blood in his head flooded south. He had to stop thinking about taking off her clothes.

“There's soda and tea in the fridge. Help yourself.” He straightened and backed to the door. “I'll be back tonight.”

“My shift starts at three.” She followed him to the door.

“You don't need to work it. You've had a hard day.” He stopped moving and tried to make her understand. “You need rest. And you don't have any clean uniforms.”

She yawned again. Wider this time. “Then what I need to do is to wash my uniform before I take a nap.”

“Are you always this stubborn? You're wiped out. You need sleep.”

“Yes, I'm always this
determined
. And I need to work more. I have to pay to replace everything I lost. No insurance on the hotel room. I don't even have a cell phone.” She smacked herself in the head. “Holy fracking schmoley! I
need to call my folks. They'll worry if they don't hear from me today. They were worried enough when I told them about the fire. If they don't hear from me, my dad might just show up at the Boxing Cat.”

“Holy fracking schmoley?” Niall tried not to laugh, but failed.

“Yes.” Hannah's lips twitched. “Although, I've been known to switch
fracking
for
fucking
, but only when I'm really stressed out.”

“
Fracking
for
fucking
?” His cheeks burned, but damn, she was turning him on more and more. “Who says that?”

“I do.” Hannah laughed. A full-body, throaty, buoyant, beautiful laugh. Her eyes twinkled. “God, I so needed that. Thank you.”

“Oh.” Something loosened in his chest at the sight of her smile. He wanted to see her like that forever.

Odd. Two days ago he'd been upset that she'd come to town after giving him a bogus number. Now he didn't want her to leave. But he did want an explanation.

“Hannah?”

She'd been in the process of walking toward his bathroom. She turned to face him. “Yes?”

“About Fincastle—”

“Yeah?”

“Why'd you give me a fake phone number?”

“What?” Hannah blinked and laughed again. “I didn't.” Her laughter died as quickly as it started. “I don't think I did. I mean, I was bummed you never called. But . . . Oh my God! Did I write down the 3228 one? It was my number when I was on my parents' phone bill. I got my own cell a few days before I met you. All this time, I thought you hadn't called.” Her eyes widened. “And all this time you thought I'd blown you off because you
had
called.”

A slow smile spread across her face.

And she yawned again.

“Sorry. I'm really sleepy. I want to continue this conversation. Assuming you do,” Hannah quickly added.

“Later.” Niall turned her by the shoulders and gave her
a gentle push to the bathroom. “In the meantime, get some sleep. I'll be back tonight.”

She turned again. “No, I'll be at the Cat for my shift. I'll wash my uniform, assuming you don't mind me using your washer and dryer. Then I can call a cab.”

“I could stand here and argue with you about coming to work—”

“Please don't. It's the one place I don't feel quite so freakish.”

“—But I won't.” Niall fingered her pink braid. “I'll pick you up in time for your shift. Get some sleep. Don't worry about the clothes. If you take them off, I'll put them in the wash for you.”

There was no missing the heat that flared in her eyes. And oh, yeah, he wanted to get her naked in more ways than one. But she needed her rest.

“I'll be just a minute.” She stepped into the bathroom and shut the door.

True to her word, she was back in under sixty seconds wearing only his T-shirt. He'd never looked that good in that shirt. He might have it framed and hang it on his wall after today.

Accepting her laundry, he left the room. What he wanted to do was tuck her into bed.

No, what he really wanted was to tuck himself into her in his bed. And dammit, he would. Later.

But he'd seen that smile on her face when she realized he'd tried to call her. She wanted him. And he wanted to give her a reason to keep smiling.

Suddenly, he had a mission.

*   *   *

M
ERCY KEPT HER
head down. She did her job. She was friendly when she needed to be. A bitch when warranted. And completely in-fucking-visible. No one knew her. Not the real her.

She'd worried last night when the cops showed up. How? How had they tied the death to the restaurant? She'd been careful. Meticulous. No one she selected had any reason to
associate with the Boxing Cat. But those cops had known. Or thought they had.

They'd taken that stupid out-of-towner hippie into custody.

A smile tormented the corners of her mouth, but Mercy knew better than to let any real emotion show. Not here. Not where others might see. And mock.

But the question wriggled in her brain like a feasting worm.

How had they known about the Boxing Cat? Had it just been dumb luck?

Around her, the place was abuzz with excitement about catering tomorrow's wedding. Wondering why the boss had decided to take off today, when he hadn't taken a single day off since he'd been back. The news of the dead body on the television. The whispers that the hippie might have done it.

The back door swung open. Sunlight poured in, temporarily blinding Mercy. Then he was there.

Smiling as usual. This time his long blond hair hung loose around his shoulders. He wore a green Hawaiian shirt that brought out the green in his sexy eyes. He tucked his hands in his cargo pants and audibly jangled his keys.

Something he did when he was nervous or excited.

Mercy averted her gaze and pretended to work. No one could know of her attraction to him. No one could guess that one day very soon, she would make him hers.

She would grant him a bliss-filled weekend.

Then she would set them both free.

Forever.

*   *   *

N
IALL OPENED THE
garage door out of habit, then cursed himself. If Hannah had still been asleep, the noisy creaking door would have definitely put an end to that. With no hope of surprising her now, he collected the bags from the truck and headed into the kitchen.

He was greeted by the sound of the shower running.

Images of her naked and soapy under the steaming water sprang to mind. He wanted to join her. So bad he had actually
walked halfway down the hall with the bags in his hands before he caught himself.

Sure, she'd confessed that she hadn't intentionally given him the wrong number. But that wasn't a blatant invitation to come get sexy, slathery naked in the shower.

Dammit!

Making a U-turn, he arrowed for the kitchen table, dropped the bags on it, then headed toward the living room. Pushing the coffee table aside, he dropped to the floor and started a rep of push-ups. Maybe he could get through fifty and get the blood flowing to other parts of his body before she came out.

He did fifty and fifty more before she appeared with a bath towel wrapped around her voluptuous body and a second one around her head. Niall straightened and she jumped.

“Oh God!” Hannah said, clutching the towel. “What were you doing there, Marine? Push-ups?”

“As a matter of fact.”

“Oh. Really?” She took another step toward him, her hand still holding firmly to the bath towel. “You do that a lot?”

Niall glanced at her body, her face, and the floor again. “Uh, yeah.”

Hannah cocked her head to one side. “Are you embarrassed? It's not like you haven't seen me naked. And I'm covered. I'm not going to drop the towel and jump you or anything. Well, unless you call me
ma'am
.”

Niall whipped his gaze to her twinkling eyes. “Feeling better after your nap?”

“I feel like a new woman.” She glanced at the bags on the table. “Uh, you shop at Victoria's Secret a lot, Marine?”

“Wha—? No. That's for you.” He strode to the kitchen table. “Actually, all the bags are for you. You said you needed clothes. I had to guess your size. There are two uniforms in there. I also bought you two pairs of gloves. One white and one black. You can wear them when serving, so you don't have to touch the silverware.”

“You bought me gloves?”

“I figured you didn't need any more visions today. I thought
you'd had enough. I also picked up a pair of rubber gloves for when you do the dishes. I know they're not recyclable, but you said skin contact with the metal caused visions. These should help prevent that, right?”