CHAPTER 9
Sean drove through town, happy to have Brooke riding in the seat beside him, but not at all happy that he was about to drop her off.
“Thanks for not pressing the issue.”
He glanced at her. “Sure.”
“Honestly, I’m just sick of talking about it lately. Rehashing it with my friends. Maybe another time.”
“I’m a patient man.”
She laughed. “No, you’re not.”
“I am.”
She turned in her seat to face him. “The day I met you, you demanded I put a rush on your evidence for you. Less than twenty-four hours later, you were back with more evidence, and you needed it ASAP. Then you proceeded to pester me for daily updates.”
“Okay, but that was a double homicide. It was an unusual case. Anyway, I was talking about my personal life.”
“So, you’re a bulldog at work, but in your personal life, you’re totally chill?”
“Exactly.”
He glanced at her, and he could see she didn’t believe him. But it was true. Months of rehab had forced him to dig deep within himself for things he didn’t know he had. Patience. The ability to withstand pain. Gratitude.
Gratitude was a big one. He hadn’t realized how much he took people for granted in his life until they showed up to help him without even being asked. It was humbling as hell.
The experience of nearly getting killed and having to work to get his life back had changed him. He was more analytical now and took a longer view. He appreciated people and experiences more.
This thing with Brooke was a perfect example. The chemistry they had together—it wasn’t every day you felt something like that. In his thirty-three years, he’d never before felt it. It was rare, and he was clued in enough now to realize it.
Not that he planned to tell her. If he did, she’d probably run for the hills. There would be no more pizza or dart games or beers after work. She’d made it clear she needed some space, and Sean was determined to give it to her, even if it hurt—literally ached—to be around her and not touch her. He could make himself wait.
Sean pulled up in front of her house and parked.
“Thank you for the pizza,” she said. “And the darts. And the ride.”
“Anytime. Thanks for the beer.”
She opened the door, and he resisted the urge to do the same. He really, really wanted to walk her to her door.
“Good night, Sean.”
“Night.”
He watched her go up the sidewalk.
Regret pummeled him. He should have kissed her. He should have done it now, tonight, when last night’s kiss was still fresh in her mind. But she was on her porch now, rummaging for her keys, about to go inside alone, and who the hell knew when she’d agree to have dinner with him again?
The pizza.
Sean grabbed the box from the back and shoved open his door.
“Wait.” He jogged up the sidewalk with the box in hand. “Your leftovers.”
“Oh. Thanks, I forgot.”
She looked up at him, and he had his second chance. He gazed down at those mesmerizing eyes of hers.
She yelped and jumped back.
Sean glanced down to see a mangy black cat glaring up at him.
“Oh, my God, you scared me!”
“Who’s this?”
“This is Midnight.” She turned and unlocked the door, and the cat darted inside. “He’s not even my cat.”
“Better tell him that.”
“Midnight, come here.”
She stepped inside.
Sean followed. “Want me to put this in the kitchen?”
“Sure, that’s—” She gasped and halted.
Sean bumped into her and caught her elbow. “What’s wrong?”
She didn’t answer. She stood motionless, staring at her living room. It looked the same as last time he’d been in here—a tight space furnished with a sofa, an armchair, and a coffee table. In the center of the table was a beer bottle.
“Brooke, what is it?”
Without a word, she strode across the room and snatched up the bottle.
Sean closed the front door and followed her into the kitchen, where she stood at the sink pouring the beer down the drain. She opened a lower cabinet and dropped the bottle into the trash.
Sean set down the pizza box. He leaned back against the counter and watched her. She had her back to him. Tension radiated from her body, flowing directly to his.
“Brooke?” He couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice.
She turned around. “My ex was here. That was his calling card.”
“He was here while you were gone? Without your permission?”
“Apparently.” She looked at Sean and sighed. “Just . . . drop it, okay?”
“Are you fucking serious? That’s breaking and entering.”
“Not if he used a key.”
She crossed the kitchen and went through the utility room to the back door. Sean followed her, watching as she stepped outside and crouched down to run her hand over the metal downspout near the steps.
“What are you doing?”
“I keep a hide-a-key back here.” She stood up with a small plastic box that had a magnet attached. She slid it open.
Empty.
Brooke muttered a curse. Then she strode back into the kitchen. Sean locked the door—for all the good it did—and joined her by the sink.
“Brooke—”
“Don’t say it. Obviously, I need to get my locks changed.”
Sean leaned against the counter, struggling to get a grip on his temper.
“I didn’t realize he knew about my key.”
Sean stared at her. He hated the apologetic look in her eyes. “Who is this guy?”
She shook her head.
“You should slap a restraining order on him.”
She snorted. “No.”
“I can help you get it done.”
“Forget it.”
“Like hell I’m gonna forget it. He’s fucking threatening you in your own home.”
She closed her eyes. Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath.
Yoga breathing.
Like that was going to help her deal with this asshole. Sean clenched his teeth, trying to rein in his temper.
“I don’t want to get into this right now,” she said calmly.
“Looks to me like you don’t have a choice.”
Sean wanted her to talk to him. He wanted to help, but he didn’t have any information. “Who is he, Brooke?”
“You don’t know him.”
“Does he have a criminal record?”
“No.”
“Is he violent?”
“No.”
It was only a nanosecond of hesitation, but Sean caught it. God damn it. Fury swelled in his chest.
He stepped closer, but she ducked around him. “I could use a drink. Would you like a glass of wine?” She selected a bottle of red from a rack on the counter and then took out a corkscrew. Sean wanted to do it for her, but she seemed to need something to do with her hands, so he stood back and watched as she uncorked the bottle.
He opened a few cabinets and found some glasses.
“When did you break up?”
She took a deep breath and poured the wine. “Four months ago.”
Four months.
About the time he’d started hanging out with her. She’d seemed guarded when they’d first met.
She still seemed guarded.
She handed Sean a glass, then leaned back against the counter and looked at him.
“I can help you file a report.”
“There’s nothing to report.”
“Brooke, come on.”
“He didn’t break in here. And he’s not violent, he’s just . . . controlling. And he’s having a hard time letting go.”
“You need to slap an RO on him.”
“Oh, yeah? Because those work so well all the time?”
She was right. They didn’t always work. In fact, Sean had handled more than one murder-suicide case where a freshly issued restraining order was found at the crime scene. Brooke had probably seen the same.
“Don’t look at me that way,” she said.
“What way?”
“It’s not like you’re thinking. He never hit me or anything. If he had, I would have done something about it.” She took a deep breath and looked away. “I’ll call a locksmith tomorrow.”
“That’s good.” Sean set his wine aside and stepped close to her. “I don’t want you here alone tonight. And now I know what you’re thinking, but that’s not a line.”
She looked up at him.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” He held up his hands. “I’ll take the couch. I swear.”
She looked conflicted.
“Or you can have the couch. I’m offering friend to friend here. If Ric needed a place to crash, say if Mia threw him out—”
“Like that would ever happen.”
“If it did, I’d give him my sofa. That’s all I’m offering.”
“Thanks, but . . . it’s probably easier if I crash at my brother’s.”
“Where’s he live? I’ll take you.”
“Then I won’t have my car.”
“Fine, I’ll follow you.”
“Thanks, but that’s completely unnecessary.”
“I’m not actually asking here, Brooke. Wherever you go tonight, I’m going to make sure you get there safely, so there’s no point in arguing about it.”
“Fine. Thank you.” She set down her wine. “Let me pack a bag.”
• • •
Brooke pulled into her brother’s driveway and parked behind his Prius. It was like hers, but black—a detail that probably wasn’t lost on Sean, who noticed everything.
He pulled up to the curb and got out, surveying the condominium complex. The brand-new construction was meant to look old, and every redbrick unit had a black gas lamp out front.
“Who’s the yellow Mini?” Sean asked, eyeing the car at the top of the driveway.
“Owen’s girlfriend.”
Brooke glanced up and down the street, but didn’t see a single black pickup, oversize or even regular-size.
Sean followed her up the cobblestone path and opened the wrought-iron gate into the courtyard.
“Does your brother own a firearm?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “He’s a chemistry professor.”
“So, that’s a no?”
“That’s a no.”
“Alarm system?”
“No.”
Brooke pressed the bell, and chimes sounded behind the heavy black door. A faint yapping noise ensued, and Lin pulled open the door. With heels and hair mousse, she was five feet tall. At the moment, she wore pink pajamas—no shoes—and held a white Chihuahua in her arms.
“Brooke. Hi.” She adjusted her horned-rimmed glasses.
“Sorry to barge in.”
“No problem.” The dog yapped and squirmed. “Owen didn’t mention you were coming over.”
“Hey, Lin, Brooke’s coming over,” Owen called. He appeared in the doorway, grinning. “Sorry, I got sidetracked.” His grin faded when he saw Sean. “Owen Porter.” He reached around Lin and offered a handshake.
“Sean Byrne.”
Owen looked at Brooke expectantly. “So . . . you said something about a break-in?”
“Nothing stolen. Think we scared him off.” Brooke smiled. “I need to get a locksmith out tomorrow.”
Brooke could feel the tension coming from Sean as Owen ushered them into the foyer. The house smelled like popcorn, and Brooke remembered the two liked to watch movies on Saturdays in their media room.
“I don’t want to interrupt you guys or anything,” Brooke said. “I know where everything is, so . . .”
“Stay as long as you want,” Owen said to Sean. “We’ll be upstairs finishing our movie.”
Owen and Lin headed up the stairs with the Chihuahua trotting behind.
“You didn’t tell him?”
Brooke turned to look at Sean. “I didn’t want to get into it in a text message.”
Sean shook his head and turned to examine the door. The hardware was shiny and new. “Decent locks.” He walked across the foyer and examined the keypad. “They have an alarm system here.”
“Yeah, I don’t think it’s activated.”
His jaw tightened as he glanced around the house. It was expensive and spacious. More than enough room for two professionals and a miniature dog. Also, it was a safe neighborhood.
Brooke set her duffel down beside the stairs.
Sean surprised her by taking her hand and leading her into the darkened living room.
“Does your family know you’ve been having trouble with your ex?”
She sighed. “No.”
“Will you tell your brother, please?”
“Yes.”
He gazed down at her, and the moment stretched out. His eyes looked so serious, and she wished she knew what he was thinking.
“I’m sorry dinner turned into . . . all this other stuff.”
“Brooke.” He sounded exasperated.
And he was still holding her hand. His fingers were warm and strong, and she liked the feel of them folded around hers.
She tugged her hand loose, and he pretended not to notice.
“Will you be okay here?”
“Fine. They have a really comfortable sectional.” She nodded at it, and when she glanced up at Sean again, he was looking at her like he had the other night before he’d kissed her.
She had things to say to him, but when she tried to form a sentence, her throat tightened. “Thanks for following me over.”
“You’re welcome.” He reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “So, you’re working tomorrow?”
“I’ve got to catch up on some things at the lab.”
“I’ll call you in the morning. Talk to your brother.”
“I will.” It wasn’t fair to stay here without filling him in on what was going on, even though she dreaded the conversation. He’d never liked Matt to begin with.
Sean eased closer, and Brooke’s heart gave a kick as he leaned down and kissed her. It was a brief brush of his lips, but then she slid her hands around his waist and pulled him close, and everything heated. She pressed against him, and he deepened the kiss. She loved the way he tasted, the way he held her. She loved the way his tongue moved against hers, the way his fingers combed into her hair.
She didn’t know why she was doing this. She definitely needed to stop, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from him.
It ended way too soon, and he eased back, watching her closely. “You can change your mind. My offer still stands.”
She stepped away, letting her hands drop. “I’m fine here.”
He looked at her for another moment, then turned to leave.
“Sean.”
“Yeah?”
“The thing is, my life’s kind of a mess right now. I’m not looking to get involved with anyone.”
“That’s okay.”
“How is that okay? Why do you want to spend time on something that’s not going anywhere?”
“Maybe I like where it’s going.”
“Why? I told you I don’t want to start anything new. And I’ll save you the suspense—I’m not good at casual relationships, so sex is not happening.”
“So noted.”
She stared up at him, and he didn’t even blink.
“Lock up behind me.” He gave her a long look and pulled open the door. “Good night.”