Читать книгу Tool Belt Defender - Carla Cassidy - Страница 6

She shouldn’t have agreed to dinner. Brittany walked into her kitchen, dropped her purse on the counter and then sank down into one of the kitchen chairs.

Alex Crawford disturbed her in a distinctly pleasant way. Something about him made her heart flutter in her chest and caused her palms to dampen. She liked the way he looked, the way he smelled. She liked the sound of his laughter, so rich and deep, and she liked the way he interacted with his daughter.

As she’d watched him eat his ice cream she’d found herself wondering what his lips would taste like, how his arms would feel wrapped around her.

Dangerous thoughts.

She knew she wasn’t ready for a romantic relationship, and as cute and sweet as Emily had been, Brittany definitely wasn’t ready to be a mom. Her brothers would laugh at the very idea and remind her how flighty and immature she was.

Still, she could use a friend and apparently that was what Alex was looking for, too. He was new to town and obviously hadn’t made any real friends, and hers had all pretty much deserted her in the months following her rescue while she’d been living with Benjamin and Edie on the family ranch just outside of town.

“Two less lonely people in the world.” The words to an old Air Supply song filled her head. Maybe Alex was supposed to be her transitional man, the one who, through his easy friendship, could bridge her way from recovering crime victim to healthy young woman ready for love.

Dinner at Alex’s place was nothing to be concerned about, she told herself. Emily would be there, and besides, Brittany had made it clear to Alex she wasn’t ready for romance.

She was about to get out of the chair when a shadow darted across the kitchen window. Every muscle in her body froze—except her heart, which roared to a painful gallop.

Somebody was in her yard … just outside of her window. What was he doing out there? Had the person been watching her? Why? The inertia left her and with her heart still beating far too fast, she got up from the table.

Her feet felt leaden with fear as she tentatively approached the window and cautiously peered outside.

Nothing.

Although the evening shadows had thickened, there was still enough ambient light to let her know that there was nobody lurking in her backyard.

Had the shadow just been a figment of her imagination? Had a cloud danced over the moon to create what she’d thought was somebody just outside the house?

She drew a deep breath and backed away from the window, her heart not yet finding its normal rhythm. She felt foolish and yet couldn’t halt the feeling of threat that combined with a deep sense of dread that washed over her.

She wished she had her gun, but she’d turned it in to Tom just after she’d been rescued, knowing it would be some time before she was ready, if ever, to go back to work as his deputy.

The fear kept her awake until near dawn when she fell into a restless sleep. She didn’t get out of bed until almost noon the next day and as always the sunshine made her fears of the night before seem silly.

She hated the fear, was ashamed of it. It was part of the reason she knew she wasn’t ready to go back to her job. A good deputy didn’t feel fear. A good deputy didn’t think the way she’d thought when she’d been held by a madman.

It was just before six in the evening when she left her house to drive to the family ranch on the edge of town. Since the crime that had taken her away for four months, it had become a tradition that on Sunday the whole family got together at the old homestead for dinner.

As she parked in front of the large, rambling ranch house, she tried to slough off the exhaustion that had been with her all day long. Two nights of too little sleep had definitely taken its toll.

She was the last to arrive and when she walked through the front door the chaos of family greeted her. Her brothers were all in the great room, Tom’s wife Peyton’s little girl, Lilly, tottering back and forth between them with squeals of delight.

“Hey, girl.” Caleb got out of his chair and greeted her with a kiss on her temple. He stepped back from her and frowned. “What’s up with you? You don’t look so hot.”

She punched him in the arm. “Thanks, you’re terrific for a girl’s ego.” She worried a hand through her long hair. “I’m just tired, that’s all. I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

“Bad night?” Benjamin asked, his dark eyes filled with compassion.

She shrugged. “I thought I saw somebody outside my window. It freaked me out a little bit and I had trouble getting to sleep.” She watched as they all exchanged glances.

“You know, Brittany, maybe you should talk to somebody,” Jacob said. “You won’t talk to us about what happened for those four months. Maybe you need a little therapy.”

“I don’t need therapy,” she replied with a touch of irritation. “I just need a good night’s sleep, that’s all.” She left the great room and her brothers and went into the kitchen where the wives were all gathered.

Of all the women who had become sisters-in-law, Brittany felt the closest to Layla, Jacob’s wife. Layla had been the last victim kidnapped and placed in a cell to await The Professional’s final party of death. Although she’d only been captive for a few hours before they had all been rescued, Brittany knew that Layla understood at least part of the kind of terror that Brittany had tasted, had endured throughout her ordeal.

“Mmm, something smells good,” she said as she entered the large, cheerful kitchen.

“Roast and potatoes, green beans and hot rolls,” Edie, Benjamin’s wife, replied. “And Portia brought pies.”

Portia, Caleb’s wife, patted her five-months-pregnant belly. “I’ve been dreaming about peach pies for the past week. I keep telling Caleb it must be some sort of strange pregnancy craving.”

“I wish I could blame pregnancy hormones for my dreams of chocolate fountains, doughnuts and candy bars. God, I’ve become such a sugar addict,” Layla exclaimed. Brittany laughed and sat on the stool next to her at the kitchen island. “How are you doing? You look tired,” Layla said.

“I am,” Brittany admitted. “But on a positive note I’ve started work on the deck I’ve been talking about forever.”

“That’s great. Who’s doing the work?” Peyton asked.

“A new guy in town. His name is Alex Crawford.” Even saying his name created a pleasant pool of warmth in the pit of her stomach.

Layla released a wolf whistle. “I sold him the house. That man is pure sin walking. What? I’m married, not dead,” she exclaimed as the others looked at her. “I’m still allowed to look and admire.”

“He is easy on the eyes,” Brittany admitted, but she didn’t mention that she’d agreed to have dinner with him. There was no point when she had no intention of it being anything but a pleasant dinner between friends. Still, she couldn’t stop the small shiver of delight that worked through her as she thought about spending more time with him.

Dinner was a wild, chaotic affair with everyone talking over each other and plenty of laughter served all around. Brittany found herself once again counting her blessings that she had such a strong support system in her family.

Still, there was no question that when she saw the small smiles and secretive looks that flew from husband to wife, the touches that spoke of a deeper, lasting intimacy, a wistful ache filled her up inside.

Eventually she wanted what her brothers had found, a love that made a couple into something more, a commitment that was meant to last a lifetime. Even though she yearned for that, she didn’t think she was ready for it at this time in her life.

She still jumped at shadows, trembled when nobody talked on the phone. She didn’t particularly like the dark and knew it was going to take time for her to finally be one-hundred-percent healthy.

“Just think, within a couple of weeks I’ll be able to have you all over for a barbecue on my new deck,” Brittany said as the meal was winding down.

“I like my burger medium well and my beer ice-cold,” Jacob said. He shot a glance to Layla. “And my woman silent and naked.”

Layla snorted. “I have no problem with the naked part, but you know you aren’t ever going to make me into a silent woman.”

Once again everyone laughed and within minutes the men had returned to the great room while the women cleared the table. “One of these days we’re going to make them stay here and do the dishes while we go into the other room and relax,” Edie said as she began rinsing dishes and handing them to Peyton, who placed them in the dishwasher.

“You know they would do the dishes if any of you asked them to,” Brittany said.

Portia smiled. “And that’s exactly why we don’t ask them to. We all let them pretend to be the big macho men, but we also know that underneath all that bluster are pussycats with tender hearts.”

That perfectly described the Grayson men and someday Brittany wanted to find a man like her brothers, a man who could protect her against the world if she needed it and who would love her to distraction.

It was after dark when the gathering began to break up. Edie looped arms with Brittany as she walked out the front door. “You want to spend the night here?” she asked. “Maybe you’d sleep better here than you’ve been doing at home.”

The offer definitely held more than a little bit of appeal, but Brittany shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather go home.” It felt too much like going backward to spend the night here where she’d stayed for her months of recuperation.

“Are you sure you’re doing okay?” Edie asked. Benjamin and Edie had spent the most time with her after she’d been rescued. Edie had sat up with her many a night when she was afraid to sleep for fear of the nightmares that might plague her.

“Am I back to normal? No, but I’m doing okay.” She gave Edie a forced smile. “Logically I know that he’s dead and I have nothing more to fear, but emotionally I haven’t quite embraced the notion of safety just yet.”

Edie gave her a warm hug. “You never wanted to talk much about the time you were held, but you know if you ever need to talk I’m here for you.”

Brittany returned the hug. “I know. And now I’m going to head home and hope for a good night’s sleep.”

Minutes later as she drove home, she thought about those months she’d been held. She hadn’t shared a lot with her family about that time, not wanting to burden them with the details. Although physically she hadn’t been molested or beaten, the mental abuse had been horrific.

The Professional had made sure she’d had enough water and food to stay alive, but he’d taunted her with all the terrible things he was going to do to her. Each time the door to the shed had swung open, she’d feared that it was the moment of her death, a horrible and painful death.

And in that place of fear, in that horrible space of abject terror, Brittany had found the utter darkness in her heart, the depth of her shame.

“But you’re going to be fine,” she said aloud as she gripped the steering wheel more firmly. The danger was over and life could only get better and better from this minute onward.

What she didn’t understand was why no matter how many times she told herself this, no matter how badly she wanted to believe it, there was still a part of her that was terrified that the bad times weren’t over yet.

The house was clean, Emily had gone to spend the night with Rose, and the steaks were marinating and ready to pop in the broiler. Everything was ready for dinner with Brittany, except that Alex was more nervous than he had been in a very long time.

He’d spent the day at her house working on the deck with Buck and Gary but Brittany had kept herself scarce, only coming out once in the afternoon to bring them all lemonade.

He now glanced at his watch. Almost six-thirty. She should be here anytime now and he told himself it was ridiculous to be so nervous about a simple dinner with a friend.

A friend, that’s all she was going to be, he told himself. A beautiful friend with eyes he wanted to drown in, with a tragic past he wished he could fix. Jeez, he needed to get his emotions where she was concerned under control.

Still, when the doorbell rang he nearly jumped out of his skin. He opened the door and the sight of her instantly calmed his nerves. She looked lovely in a pair of brown slacks and a yellow blouse that enhanced the darkness of her hair and eyes. She also looked nervous and that strangely put him at ease. She clutched her purse tightly to her chest and her smile was tentative.

“No need to look so terrified. I promise I won’t bite,” he said.

Her features relaxed and her smile grew more natural. “I know it’s crazy, but I am feeling a bit nervous,” she admitted.

“It doesn’t sound crazy. I was feeling the same way just a minute ago.” He gestured her toward the living room. “Maybe a glass of wine will make us both relax.”

“That sounds nice,” she agreed.

He walked her through the living room and into the kitchen where the table was already set for two and a salad and a loaf of warmed French bread sat in the center.

“Where’s Emily?” she asked as he gestured her into one of the chairs at the table.

“I packed her off to Rose’s for the night.” He pulled a bottle of red wine from the refrigerator and smiled. “I love my daughter to distraction, but sometimes I get hungry for adult conversation. Besides, she and Rose have been working on some intricate 3-D puzzle at Rose’s house. Lately I’ve had trouble keeping Emily home.”

He poured them each a glass of wine and then carried hers to the table. “And now the most important question of the night—how do you like your steak?”

She set her purse on the floor next to her chair and took the wineglass from him. “Medium.”

He placed the steaks in the oven and then joined her at the table, and for a moment an awkward silence descended, broken when they both started to say something at the same time.

“Sorry,” she said with a small laugh. “I was just going to say that it was my sister-in-law who sold you this house.”

“Layla? She’s a nice woman,” he replied.

“She talks a lot,” Brittany replied with a small grin.

Alex laughed and felt the ice breaking between them. “Yeah, even Emily said that Layla was a bit of a chatterbox, and if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black I don’t know what is.”

Brittany laughed and then took a sip of the wine and eyed him soberly over the rim of the glass. “It must be hard, to be a man raising a little girl.”

“It has its moments,” he agreed. “It took me months to learn to paint her fingernails to her approval and I still can’t get the hang of a French braid. Actually, I’m lucky that she’s a great kid and is very patient with me.”

“I could help you out with the French-braid thing,” she replied.

“Emily would be ecstatic.”

She nodded and took another sip of the wine. “The deck seems to be coming along faster than I’d expected.”

“There’s still a lot to do. Getting the floor down is the easy part. The railings and finish work take a bit longer.”

“Have you used Buck and Gary before as helpers?”

“Buck, yes, Gary, no. Buck helped me on a previous job and I told him I wouldn’t mind hiring another kid to help with the grunt work and he suggested Gary.”

“I don’t know if you know this or not, but Buck has quite a reputation.”

He smiled. “One thing I’ve learned since moving here is that the people of Black Rock like to gossip and nobody is shy about having opinions. I try not to listen to rumors and I like to judge people on their own merits.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard more than a little gossip about me.”

“A little,” he agreed.

She gazed down into her wineglass and when she looked back at him her eyes were filled with a steely strength. “I was kidnapped by a crazy serial killer and held captive in an old shed for four months. During that time he kidnapped four more women and planned to torture and kill us each, one at a time. He called it a party. Thankfully we were all rescued before he could have his little party. I survived and it’s just something that happened to me. It’s in my past now.”

A wealth of respect for her washed over him. “Must have been terrible.”

“It was. But so are cancer and plane crashes and a thousand other things that happen in the world.”

“What happened to the other women who were kidnapped?”

She took a sip of her wine and then answered, “They’ve all left town, except Layla. Suzy Bakersfield moved away with her boyfriend. Casey Teasdale married her fiancé and they also left town, and Jennifer Hightower went to live with an aunt in New York. Layla was the last one to be kidnapped and I like to think that if my brothers hadn’t rescued us when they did she would have talked Larry Norwood to death before he managed to kill her.”

Alex smiled and then jumped up from the table to check on the steaks. He flipped them over and then returned to his seat. “You know, I’ve been thinking about what you said to me the other night.”

She frowned. “What was that?”

“That you don’t go into town because people stare at you and whisper behind your back. I was thinking maybe if you went into town more often people would get used to seeing you around again and the stares and whispers would stop.”

She cocked her head as if giving it some thought. “Maybe you’re right,” she finally agreed. “I think it wouldn’t have been so bad if the other women were still around, but I was the one who was held the longest and so people seem to be the most curious about what I went through.”

“And you’d just rather put it behind you and not talk about it,” he said.

She flashed him a beatific smile. “That’s right.”

“I just want you to know one thing—if you need it, I can be a sympathetic ear or a comforting shoulder.”

Her eyes flared with a sliver of evocative heat that he felt deep inside. “Thanks,” she replied. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He wanted to kiss her. At that moment with her eyes shining so bright and her lips moist from the wine, he wanted to take her into his arms and lose himself in a kiss. Instead he jumped up from the table and went back to the oven where he pulled the steaks out.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.

“No, thanks, I’m all set.” He plated the steaks and then carried them to the table.

Thankfully the dinner conversation flowed easily. He regaled her with stories about his days as an attorney in Chicago, enjoying each time he managed to make her laugh.

In turn, she told him about growing up with four older brothers who teased and spoiled her unmercifully. “When I told Tom I wanted to become a deputy he fought me tooth and nail,” she said. “There was no way he wanted his baby sister on the streets with a gun.”

“So, how did you convince him to hire you?” Alex asked, half-mesmerized by the sheen of her dark hair beneath the artificial light overhead. He knew it would feel like silk between his fingers, imagined the long strands whispering against his bare chest as she straddled him.