Easton's Claim (Colebrook Siblings Trilogy Book 3) (3 page)

Easton’s expression was resolute. “Sugar Hollow is as much your home as it is mine, but it’s not going to feel like it if you’re not here.”

Guilt sliced at her. Hell, she felt guilty even
having
this conversation, because she wasn’t being completely honest with him, since he was a small part of the reason she was leaving. “I’m sorry.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “That’s it? Your mind’s already made up and there’s nothing I can say to make you reconsider?”

“I’ve thought about this a lot over the past year, believe me.” Ever since she’d left Greg. “It’s the right decision.”

He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Wow.”

She hadn’t anticipated him reacting like this. It was nice to know he cared so much and was going to miss her, though. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

He stared at her, and there was something in his eyes she couldn’t define. Regret? “Yeah, me too.”

God, her stomach was in knots. She didn’t want to spend what was likely going to be one of her last visits with him arguing. She reached for a cookie and held it up as a peace offering. “Want one? Still warm from the oven.”

“No thanks,” he said, his gaze lingering on hers, and for some reason it felt like he was rejecting her rather than the cookie. A sharp pain lanced her chest at the thought.

Keeping her expression neutral to hide the hurt, she set the cookie back on the rack and wiped her hands on the kitchen towel, hating this entire conversation. In hindsight she wished she’d just told him about her plans when she’d first applied for the job.

“How long do you think it’ll take to sell your place?” he asked after a minute.

She shrugged. “In this market, who knows. Could be a few weeks, could take a few months.”

“So, not long.”

“No, not long.” A wave of sadness hit her at the defeat in his tone. Couldn’t he see there was no other way?

As hard as the prospect of leaving everyone and everything familiar behind was, it was for the best. If she stayed she’d never move forward. Not the way she longed to, and this job was something she’d always dreamed of.

“I’ll hate like hell to lose you,” he said quietly.

His wording threw her. Lose her? She snorted in annoyance. “I’ll still stay in touch. It’s not like I’m gonna move away and then cut you guys out of my life, for crying out loud.”

“I wouldn’t let you anyway.”

“Well, don’t worry.” For her, this was about survival. And this new, unsettling attraction toward him was simply one more reason for her to go. He’d never change. His job was demanding and dangerous, requiring him to be gone a lot, for months at a time, and he lived for that adrenaline rush.

That wasn’t what she wanted. After the disaster with Greg she wanted stability, someone solid and committed to making and sharing a life with her. She wanted to know what real love felt like, and she wanted to have a family someday. She wasn’t going to find any of that here.

Exasperated, she sighed and shook her head. “I need to get my life together again.”

He scoffed. “Please, you’re the most together person I know.” He waved a hand to indicate the house. “Look at this place. Spotless. I bet I could eat off the floor if I felt like it. You’re the master of organization. You juggle everything going on in your life while rebuilding yourself after a shitty marriage, and you made starting a brand new career in real estate look easy. God, you even volunteer your time to teach yoga classes three days a week on top of everything else,” he added, pointing to her yoga bag sitting on a bench by the back door.

Her laugh held an ironic edge, because it was all so sad. Couldn’t he see how superficial all this was? “The house is staged, Easton. I made it look this way so I could sell it faster.”

Oh yeah, she was a certified expert at making her life and surroundings look good. At projecting an image to the world that said she had her shit together, when in reality she was scrambling to pull herself out of the pit of debt and depression her ex had left her in. She’d had to master that in a hurry.

She tossed the kitchen towel aside. “And you know what else? I hate yoga. I only teach it because I have to do something to keep from climbing the walls at night when I’m here all alone, and because I like to stuff my face with my baking, so I have to do some form of exercise if I want to fit into my clothes.”

His gaze slid over her from head to toe, making her go still inside. “Well whatever you’re doing, it’s working for you.”

Heat bloomed throughout her body and she chastised herself. Easton had always teased her like this.
He doesn’t mean anything by it, idiot.

She cleared her throat and fought the warmth creeping into her cheeks. “Whatever.” Scowling at him, she bit into a cookie, barely tasting it as she chewed. God, the man drove her crazy, though she’d be damned if she let him know it.

He uncrossed his arms and set his palms on the countertop, making all the muscles in his arms stand out. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

She dragged her gaze to his face, belatedly realized the cookie was poised partway to her mouth. “What?”

“You know, dinner? The thing people eat at the end of the day?”

Why would he want to take her to dinner? He’d never asked her to dinner in the almost twenty years she’d known him. Did he feel sorry for her or something because she’d just admitted to being lonely? If that was the case, she’d feel even crappier.

“I can’t, I’m showing some clients a few properties,” she said.

“What about tomorrow?”

She had a showing scheduled for her house tomorrow evening, so that could work. “Why do you want to go to dinner with me all of a sudden?”

One side of his mouth quirked up, as though she amused him. “So suspicious. To spend some one-on-one time with you.”

Part of her wanted to refuse, but another part craved what he was offering. And she’d be leaving here soon enough anyway, so what could one dinner hurt? “Okay. But you’re not going to be able to talk me into staying, so don’t even try. I’ve already got everything planned out. As soon as my place sells, I’m moving to Minnesota.”

“Okay,” he said, but his expression clearly said
we’ll see about that
. “I’ll come pick you up at six.”

“No, I’ll meet you somewhere.”

His mouth curved in a sexy grin. The sensual and highly experienced mouth she shouldn’t be thinking about. “You embarrassed to be seen in town with me or something?”

“No, of course not,” she said with a dismissive laugh. Not embarrassed. More like terrified he’d pick up on her increasing attraction toward him if she didn’t limit their time together.

God, she hoped her house sold in the next few days.

It’s just dinner with an old friend.

Piper kept repeating that to herself as she got ready, but it didn’t quell the nervous flutters in the pit of her stomach. When she met Easton at the restaurant in a little while, she wanted to look her best.

Yesterday’s unexpected visit had been awkward and strained. She wanted to leave things between them on a better note, and to present the image she wanted him to remember her by.

Polished Piper. Together, determined, and in control of her life. Pretty much the opposite of how she’d felt since her marriage had begun to unravel.

She smoothed moisturizer into her skin and slipped on the cobalt blue halter dress. The fit skimmed her curves, hinting at them rather than outlining them, and it had a pretty ruffled hem that hit just below her knees. The vivid color made her skin glow and set off the golden blond waves that she’d left loose to spill to the middle of her back.

A pair of strappy high heels waited where she’d set them at her closet door. She put them on, paused to check her reflection. Maybe she’d put on a few extra pounds over the last six months, but this dress did wonders for her figure and confidence. Even if this wasn’t a date, at least Easton would see her at her best, and hopefully remember her that way.

As she thought it, a sudden pang of regret hit her that nothing would ever happen between them. She waved it off, told herself she was being ridiculous. Even if for some reason he became interested in her that way, hypothetically speaking, there were plenty of reasons why they couldn’t get involved. Good reasons.

She was six years older than him, for starters, and her history with Wyatt, albeit brief and non-sexual, still made things…weird. And this line of thinking was completely inappropriate. God, it was damn near borderline incestuous to even think about it.

A knock sounded at her back door and her pulse skipped. Maybe Easton changed his mind about her meeting him at the restaurant and had come to pick her up instead.

She hurried down the hall and past the kitchen to the mudroom. She didn’t see anyone out the window in the top of the back door. Frowning, she pulled it open, then gasped and took an instinctive step back when Greg suddenly appeared from around the corner.

Run.

Her heart cartwheeled in her chest. She darted a glance at her purse, sitting there on the bench next to the door. Her phone was in it. If she could grab it and run out the front door maybe—

Her ex barged in without asking, his face a terrifying mask of fear as he shut the back door and strode for the kitchen, forcing her to walk backward to avoid him.

He’d lost weight since she’d seen him last. His cheeks looked almost hollow beneath the thick, sable-colored stubble and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes. Her stomach muscles clenched as that frantic, deep blue gaze locked with hers.

Piper shook off her initial shock and stood her ground. The sheer
nerve
of him, showing up and barging in here. “What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded, raising her chin. Last she’d heard he was in Tennessee, doing a stint in another super expensive rehab facility his parents had put him in. Apparently as with every other time, it hadn’t worked.

“I had to see you.” He swallowed. “I’m in trouble, Piper. Big trouble.”

She didn’t care, just let the anger burn through her, giving her strength that chased away the fear. “Get out of my house.”

Greg lunged forward and grabbed her upper arms, the desperation in his hold cutting off anything else she might say. A bolt of alarm streaked through her at the stark fear on his face. His eyes were clear, the pupils normal, and he didn’t smell of booze. That was even scarier.

“Please, I need your help,” he rasped, his expression earnest, his grip frantic.

He’s clean.

The terrifying knowledge kept reverberating through her brain, made cold spread through her gut.

He wasn’t drunk or high, hadn’t shown up here driven by paranoia or some drug-induced hallucination. As former sheriff he knew better than anyone the repercussions of violating the terms of the restraining order. Whatever was going on with him, for him to show up here and risk going to jail meant the situation he faced was worse.

She had a sickening feeling he’d finally hit rock bottom and that his life was in danger. He must have finally pissed off or crossed the wrong person. A drug dealer. A drug trafficker. Maybe a gang, who knew.

Pushing aside the dread and anxiety, she found her voice. “I can’t help you. Now get the hell out before—”

“Your grandmother’s furniture.” His voice was ragged, the bite of his fingers around her upper arms bordering on painful. “It wasn’t in the storage locker. Where is it?”

He’d broken into her storage locker to look for it? What did he even want with it? God, he had to have done something really bad this time. Either that, or he was in so much trouble that he hoped being arrested would save him. She’d inherited at least a half dozen pieces from her grandmother, all stored in various places. Which piece was he even talking about?

“What the hell have you gotten yourself into?” she whispered, yanking free of his hold and taking a step back. Her skin crawled, the back of her neck prickling.

“I can’t…tell you.” Greg’s eyes were bleak, sad, and damn him, despite everything he’d put her through, it tugged at her heartstrings.

She might not love him, she might not even like him anymore, but she’d been married to this man and still cared about him as a human being. He hadn’t always been a junkie. It saddened her that his life had turned out this way, even though it was his own doing. And right now she had a bad feeling someone was out to kill him. There was no other explanation as to why he would do this.

Whatever his faults, she didn’t want him to die. She had to call the cops. “Out of my way, Greg,” she commanded in a voice that sounded much braver than she felt. She took a step around him but he blocked her with his body, the perspiration on his forehead standing out beneath the kitchen lights.

“Tell me where it is, Piper. If you ever cared about me, tell me now.”

A shiver rippled over her skin. She fisted her hands at her side and edged away from him, toward the mudroom. Was someone targeting him at this very moment? Were they coming here?

She’d grab her purse, run, then call the cops once she was safe. “Only the pie chest is here. Everything else is in storage.”

“There’s a dresser,” he insisted, his eyes wild. “It wasn’t in the storage place.”

Because some of the pieces were in a shed at the Colebrook place. “Then I don’t know.”

“God dammit, you have to know!”

“What did you do?” she demanded, her voice shaking.

She didn’t tell him where all the furniture was, because she wanted no part of whatever trouble he was in, and just wanted to get the hell out of there. This had to be drug or debt related, and he was scared shitless.

Her chest tightened. Had he just put her at risk by walking in here, into her home? Were the people after him now going to come after her, because they linked her to him again?

“It’s better if you don’t know. Just tell me where it is.”

The cryptic words were the last straw. Piper whirled and rushed for the back door. Her heart slammed against her ribs at the sound of thudding footsteps behind her.