Authors: Jennifer Ryan
“This guy has a serious fixation on you.”
“He thinks hurting me will hurt Owen. The thing is, this just punishes me.”
“I’m coming down there.”
“No. Stay. I’m fine, just mad. And a little scared,” Claire admitted.
“I don’t like this, Claire.”
“I’m not thrilled about it myself. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Call me back if you need anything.”
“I will. Thanks for covering for me.”
“You need a break, Claire, some time to have some fun. You work too much.”
“Yeah, well look what happens when I take an extra hour for lunch.”
“This isn’t your fault. Or Owen’s.”
“I know that. It’s just . . .”
“It sucks. I know. Do what needs to be done. That’s all you can do. Oh, and watch your back.”
“I will. See you soon.”
Claire held on to her phone and leaned against Owen’s truck, staring at her flat tires. The police arrived and pulled into the lot. She breathed a huge sigh of relief and hoped she stopped jumping at every little sound.
O
WEN SAT WITH
Mr. Calloway and went over each section of the contracts, detailing what each meant and how it would affect Mr. Calloway’s businesses. He made sure his client understood all the terms and conditions. Deep in thought, he didn’t register the red and blue flashing lights sweeping across the wall until Mr. Calloway looked out the window and asked, “What’s with all the police cars?”
“Claire.” Owen didn’t hesitate: he ran out of his office and sprinted out the front door and around the side to the parking lot. The cop car scared him, but not as much as not seeing Claire, until he moved further into the parking lot and spotted her beside his truck, in between her car and his. He rounded the tailgate, pushed past the policeman, and grabbed Claire by the shoulders, holding her at arm’s length.
“Are you okay?” He scanned her face and her whole body, checking for any sign she’d been hurt. Aside from the bandages still on her feet, she looked fine, except for the trembling and her wide, scared eyes.
“I’m fine.”
He pulled her into his arms and held her close, trying to calm his racing heart and assure himself she was safe and sound.
“Mr. McBride, someone slashed Miss Walsh’s tires. She mentioned a client of yours may be involved.”
Owen swore, but didn’t let go of Claire. He couldn’t. Not when everything in him wanted to keep her close and protect her from any and all threats. He didn’t have time to contemplate the depth of his fear when he thought she’d been hurt and the overwhelming relief that replaced it when he found her safe and unharmed.
“Dale Monoghan. Shannon, his ex-wife, is a client. She was here earlier. He’s been stalking her, though nothing I can prove substantially.” Owen gave the officer the rundown on Claire’s attack the other night.
Claire slipped from his grasp and leaned against his truck, arms wrapped around her middle, watching the other officer dust her car for prints. He hated to let her go, but understood how this latest incident pissed her off, and how some of that anger might be directed at him.
“So you think he saw Mrs. Monoghan here this afternoon. Saw Claire arrive to see you and slashed her tires to get back at you, through hurting her.”
“That about sums it up.” And put him in the category of “too dangerous to date” in Claire’s book. He had to agree, but didn’t want to end things with her. In fact, everything in him wanted to spend more time with her. He wanted to know her like no one else knew her. Right now, she wanted to be left alone. The wall of ice she’d erected around herself chilled him. He had to break through, because losing her and what they had together wasn’t an option. It may be new and undeveloped, but that’s what made him want to hold on with both hands. Because if it was this good now, what would it be like when they really did know each other better? What would it be like after they slept together? If kissing her made him burn, making love to her would be like touching the sun.
“We don’t know if it was him,” Claire commented, though she never took her eyes off the officer sweeping a small brush over her fender.
“It makes sense. Shannon visited earlier. You’re here. I thought I saw something out the window when you and I were talking in my office, but I dismissed it as a bird or something disturbing the bushes. I think maybe Dale saw us together, confirmed you and I are seeing each other, and made good on his threat to hurt you to get to me.”
“Why did he wreck my car and not your truck?” she asked, meeting his eyes for the first time. “Your truck is right here. Why not destroy your tires to piss you off?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart, but I’ll make this right.”
“It’s not for you to make right. You didn’t do anything to me or my car. I’m upset and angry, but not at you.”
“Then why are you over there and I’m over here?”
She bent at the waist and bounced off his truck to walk to him, but stopped two feet away and stared past him. “Tow truck is here.”
“You called them already?”
“While I waited for the cops. I can’t very well drive back to the shop.”
“You’re going back to work?”
“Owen, what do you want me to do? Go home, lock myself up in my house, and hide away?”
“Yes. Something like that. Stay here with me, where I can keep my eye on you.”
“This happened on your property, twenty feet from your office window,” she pointed out. “Last time, I was at home. Doesn’t seem to matter where I am, he finds me.”
“Claire . . .”
“We’re all done with the car,” the officer interrupted. “I’ll check in with Sheriff McBride and update him on this latest incident.” The officer handed him a copy of the incident report.
Claire grabbed it and stuffed it into her purse. “I’ll need that for the insurance company.”
“I’ll call them and take care of everything,” he offered, knowing by the set of her jaw she’d refuse.
“I’ve got it. You’ve done enough.”
That one hit him right in the chest. He couldn’t breathe around the noose tightening around his throat.
The officer gave him an apologetic look and went to his cruiser to leave. The tow truck moved into place to hook up Claire’s car and pull it up onto the flatbed.
Claire walked up to him and let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry. That came out all wrong. You’ve done everything you can to fix the damage at my house and help me feel safe when I’m there. I don’t want you to keep fixing things for me because you think it’s your mess to clean up. It’s not.”
“I just want to help you. If not for me . . .”
She pressed her fingertips to his lips. “Stop. We aren’t going to keep going round and round about this. He wants me to get mad at you, leave you, so you’ll know how he felt about his wife leaving him. Well, I’m not going to play right into his hands.”
Her words penetrated and she tried to backtrack. “Well, I’m not your wife, and you don’t feel . . .”
This time he stopped her with a kiss. He pressed his lips to hers and sank his fingers into her hair at the side of her head, tilting it to get just the right angle to make her fit to him perfectly. Surprised, she settled into the kiss and her eyes fluttered closed. He indulged his raging need for her, pulled her close, and dove in for more.
The kiss ended with both of them sighing out their frustration and holding each other close. He kissed the side of her head. “It kills me that he’s hurting you. I want to stop him and everything that’s going on, so that you and I can be together without all this hanging over us. Don’t think for one second that this doesn’t bother me. It does.”
She leaned her forehead to his chest and he rubbed his fingers through her hair to the knotted muscles in her neck.
“Pop, thanks for coming,” Owen said, holding out his hand to shake.
Pop took it and gave him a solid pump before letting go. “Owen. This is some kind of trouble.”
“Yes, it is. Claire, this is Rain’s father, Eli. Pop, this is my very good friend, Claire. I’d appreciate it if you hooked her up with some new tires and got her back on the road.”
“My pleasure.” Eli gave him an approving nod. Normally, Owen would have smiled with pride for having Claire plastered to his side. In this case, he barely managed a halfhearted grin.
“If you’ll sign here, we should have your new tires installed by close of business today.”
“I really appreciate that, Eli. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I enjoyed meeting Rain the other night at dinner. Your granddaughters are wonderful.”
“Yes they are.” Eli beamed.
Claire backed away from Owen, took Eli’s clipboard, and signed the paper.
“I’ll drive you to your shop,” Owen offered.
Claire pointed to Janine, Mr. Calloway, and another couple, his next client meeting, standing at the end of the driveway, watching everything go down. “You’ve got your hands full today. I’ll walk.”
“I’m not letting you walk back alone.”
“I can drop you,” Eli offered.
“Thank you,” Claire said, though she knew Owen would rather take her himself.
“Claire, I’ll reschedule my appointments.”
“Why? So you can babysit me? So he wins, because he’s disrupted both our lives. Go back to work, Owen. We’ll talk later.”
Owen stuffed his hands in his pockets, hating that she scrambled up into the truck cab and leaned back, staring out the windshield lost in thought.
“I’ll make sure she gets back safe.” Eli gave his shoulder a squeeze and went around the truck, climbed in, and drove away.
Owen pulled out his phone and made a call, ensuring her safety until she got home.
C
LAIRE’S HEAD SNAPPED
up when the bell over the door rang out. Gayle squeezed her arm to reassure her everything was all right. Eli had dropped her off at the shop twenty minutes ago. She liked the older man and his no-nonsense, efficient way. He didn’t mince words when he told her Owen was one of the best men he knew, and he hoped to see her again soon.
Her nerves were still shot, everything made her jump for no reason, and now she had a very large male to deal with.
She walked to Brody’s table and glared. He ignored her and set up his laptop.
“Did Owen send you?”
“He’s worried about you, and since you didn’t want him here, I’m here.”
She did want Owen here with her, but hated how much she wanted to rely on him. She needed to stand on her own. To know that she could, no matter the circumstances.
“You don’t need to stay. I’m fine.”
“You nearly jumped out of your skin when I walked in.”
She didn’t deny it. Her stomach remained tied in knots. “I’ll settle down. Nothing is going to happen to me here.”
“I bet you thought the same thing when you went to see Owen. I’m staying. I’ll take you to pick up your car at Eli’s garage and follow you home.”
“Then what? Are you going to stay with me tonight? Tomorrow?”
“You should be safe at home with the alarm. The contractor installed your new door this morning. You’ll be with us tomorrow at the game. Then, we’ll see.”
Right. How could they plan for something they couldn’t see coming. Dale remained elusive. Even the police couldn’t find him. At this rate, she may spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.
“Can I get you anything?”
“Coffee. Apple cinnamon muffin.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Work,” he said, booting up his computer and pulling out several files from his leather messenger bag.
“Okay.” A man of few words, she didn’t know what to think, so she went to get him his order. The bell over the door dinged and another customer came in. Brody glanced up, assessing the two women with one long sweep of his penetrating gaze before he turned back to his laptop screen. With his back to the wall, the room spread out before him, and with a clear view of the front door and the one leading to the back room and kitchen area, he’d picked a prime spot to watch over her. The muscles in her shoulders eased along with the knot in her stomach. She sighed and grabbed her cell phone. She hit the speed dial and waited. He answered on the first ring.
“Are you okay?” Owen’s deep voice held a note of alarm.
“Thank you.”
He sighed and she felt his relief through the phone. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
“Owen.”
“Yeah?”
“I . . .” She didn’t know quite what to say. The emotions welled up inside of her, but she couldn’t put them into words. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Count on it.”
C
LAIRE PACKED UP
the basket and boxes for the girls’ softball game, feeling a sense of déjà vu. She’d packed up yesterday and look what happened.
“Where did you go?” Gayle asked.
She snapped out of her space-case haze and focused on the box of cupcakes in front of her.
“Sorry. I’m tired.”
“It’s understandable you didn’t sleep well last night.”