Energized (18 page)

Niall pulled back from her and scratched his neck. “You'd better go.”

“Now? But—”

“This is my place of business, remember?” His back went ramrod straight. He pivoted on his heel and disappeared into his office.

Yeah, his place of business. She remembered.

It was where she'd witnessed a murder in a vision.

Where her boss had nearly kissed her.

The universe was definitely sending her mixed messages.

*   *   *

“
I
WASN'T SURE
you'd be staying here tonight,” Karma said, standing in the doorway of the guest bedroom.

Hannah looked up from one of the many bags that Niall had bought her earlier in the day.

“Do I need to go to a hotel? It's totally fine.”

“That's not what I meant.” Karma waved her hand in the air as if shooing away the idea. “I saw the way you and Niall looked at each other. Woo!” She fanned herself with one hand.

“It's not what you think.”

“Right. And you two didn't have matching flaming-hot red auras earlier.” Karma cocked her head to the left and a wicked grin spread across her face. “And don't try to deny it. Your aura might be orange now but your face is as red as your aura was back at the café. Don't be embarrassed, clearly Niall is hot for you too.”

Hannah stopped digging in the bag and crossed to the doorway. “Please don't say anything to Niall. He doesn't want me as anything more than a temporary employee.”

Karma snorted. “Yeah, that's what he thinks. It's not true. Even if I hadn't seen the little aura-iffic display, I'd have guessed he wants you more than he's letting on when I saw this.”

She straightened from the doorjamb and pulled a huge black artist's case from the other room. It had to be an artist's case. It was big enough to hold her supplies. If she'd had any left. The shoulder strap was padded and the case was black leather. A small bronze plate was affixed in the middle of the flap on the front. He had had it engraved with her first name.

“Holy frack! Niall did this?” Hannah had to swallow past
a lump in her throat. She accepted the case and traced the nameplate with a finger. “How? When? Why?”

“He must have dropped it off when he dropped off the bags of clothes. Zig had everything on the couch but this must have fallen behind it.” Karma followed her into the bedroom, shoved the clothing bags aside, and sat down on the bed. “Aren't you going to open it?”

A part of her didn't want to open it yet. She wanted to call Niall. Okay, she wanted to go to his place and thank him in person. All night. But that wasn't an option. If he'd wanted her to open it when he was there, he would have given it to her in person. So why did he buy it for her?

“Hannah, you okay? Your aura's doing a weird jumbly thing.” Karma started to rise but Hannah gestured for her to remain seated.

“I'm fine. Overwhelmed. Amazed. He's so hard to read. One minute he's acting all proper and distant. The next he's buying me clothes and art supplies. I just don't know what to think.”

Hannah sank onto the bed and popped the clasp on the leather case. Inside were pastels, chalks, ten different art pencils, paints, a pad of excellent drawing paper, a pad of watercolor paper, gum erasers, and even a tiny little sharpener. Tucked into one pocket was a folded sheet of paper with her name on it.

Hannah reached for it, then glanced at Karma. Instead of reading the message, Hannah closed the case with it still inside.

Karma whistled. “In all the time I've known him, I've never heard of Niall doing anything so romantic. Girlfriend, you've got him wrapped around your finger. Hope you plan to do right by him.”

“Me do right by him?” Hannah shook her head. “Karma, I think you're confused. He's the one who isn't sure what to do with me. Every time I get too close, he pushes me away. Then he does something like this and . . .” She let her words trail away. “I swear, in the dictionary under
mixed signals
is a picture of Niall Graham.”

Karma clucked her tongue. “He's got a thing about space. Ross says Niall changed after he survived an attack in Afghanistan. All I know is, the man hovers in doorways.
The one time I saw someone block his exit out of the office, his aura went crazy. As dark as outer space.”

Hannah nodded. “I didn't realize you knew about the attack.”

“That makes two of us.” Karma leaned her upper body closer. “Who told you?”

“Niall.”

Karma gave her a wide, toothy grin. “Yep. That man might have an issue with space, but I'm telling you. He wants you. As far as I know, he doesn't talk about Afghanistan. With anyone. But you're here two days and he talks to you.”

Hannah didn't correct Karma's assumption. She couldn't if she was going to follow Niall's rule about keeping their night together a secret.

Karma pushed to her feet and started for the door. “We've got an epically long day tomorrow. Get some rest. Oh, and Hannah, those mixed signals Niall's sending. I think it's claustrophobia. It's not that he doesn't want you. I think he does. I think he's afraid of getting too close to you.”

*   *   *

T
HEY WERE FIGHTING
again. The pair of them.

Mercy watched from the shadows as Niall and Ross argued in the parking lot, riveted by them in all their male beauty.

“You can't keep doing this, Ross.” Niall didn't shout but his voice cut across the empty parking lot. At two in the morning, sound carried through the quiet night like waves crashing on the shore. Sometimes a soft, rolling noise, other times a clapping crescendo.

“Doing what? My job!” Ross's voice, passionate and echoing fury, smashed through space. “I seem to recall your ass definitely
not
here for hours today. So before you go pissing on me because I was checking on a potential client, you better check yourself,
Sarge
.”

“Checking on a potential client, my left nut. You are so full of shit. You were at the bar. Again. Getting drunk. Again. Do you really want to go down that road? Dad's lucky Mom didn't toss his ass out years ago.” Niall hiked a thumb over a shoulder
as if to emphasize the point. “The only thing that saved him, their marriage, and the restaurant was that he was man enough to admit he had a problem before it ruined everything.”

“I'm not an alcoholic.” Ross's denial was a little too rehearsed. “There's nothing wrong with getting a beer with a client now and then.”

“Sure.” Niall nodded. “Now and then. But you're drunk so damned much you forget details like depositing money. What the hell, Ross? If we don't put that money in the bank, our employees don't get paid.”

“It was one fucking time, asshole!” Ross shoved at Niall's shoulders, but Niall was immovable. “You may have never made a fucking mistake, but the rest of us plebeian humans have. So get off my case.”

Niall inhaled a deep breath. His chest seemed to expand with the added oxygen. He appeared to get bigger. Wider. Taller, even.

Mercy licked her suddenly dry lips, waiting. God, had she ever been more aroused? If she tried, she could pretend they were fighting about her. One declaring his undying devotion to her. The other defining her as something to be given up. Which one would win? Her lover, of course, but that was fantasy. In reality, she had no idea if they would truly come to blows.

“I'm not on your case, little brother. But if you fuck up tomorrow's catering event—”

“I know how to do my job. I set it up. Arranged all the details. I've double-checked and triple-checked everything. Nothing will go wrong.” With a sneer Ross clapped Niall on the bicep. “Thanks for the vote of confidence though. Gets me right here.” He thumped his fist against his heart.

Niall shook his head. “Just promise me you won't drink until after the event ends. Not a drop. I need you clearheaded for tomorrow.”

“If that'll get you off my case. I promise not to drink all weekend. Hell, if I thought you'd actually believe me, I'd swear never to drink again.” Ross raised three fingers in a scout salute.

“Don't make promises you can't keep.”

“Yeah, that's what I thought.” Ross pulled keys from his pocket and crossed to the driver's side door of his beat-up blue Pontiac. “You know, everyone else at the Cat sees me as a good boss, a solid leader, a fucking decent person. Why can't you?”

“Ross, I do see all those things. But you've got a problem. One that can't be solved by an argument in a parking lot at two in the morning.” Niall followed his brother, who strode away from his car and to the bus stop at the end of the parking lot. “Where the hell are you going?”

“I'm drunk, as you pointed out. I'm taking the bus.”

“Ross, wait. I'll give you a ride.” Niall quickened his steps to reach his brother but Ross kept his back to him.

“So I can listen to you lecture me all the way home? Thanks but no thanks.” A Tidewater Transit Bus lumbered to a stop in front of Ross. He climbed aboard, then turned and faced his brother. “Whatevs, Niall. I'm done with tonight's brotherly chat. I'll be here tomorrow. I promise, no drinking. Good enough for you?”

He didn't wait for a reply. He gave Niall the one-fingered salute and the doors closed between them.

Niall stood watching until the taillights faded, then he simply lowered his head and closed his eyes.

Mercy's heart pounded. Fury and pity pumped through her. She should grant them both her mercy. They each needed it in their own way. But Niall wasn't her problem. His issue was self-induced. He made himself miserable through his own actions.

Ross, now, he couldn't help who and what he was.

It was Ross who truly needed her. She wanted to go to him tonight, but that bus could take him anywhere in the city. So she'd wait until tomorrow.

After the reception he'd be ready for her.

And she'd set him free.

N
IALL
DIDN
'
T
SEE
Hannah all day. There hadn't been time to talk to her, even if he had. Dawn had called out again, having caught her kid's bug. The Boxing Cat was still booming thanks to the museum's mix-up two nights before. People were talking and a blogger for a gluten-free site had come in to sample the cuisine.

Niall split his time between serving the Saturday afternoon clients and coordinating the catering event by phone with Ross. He clicked off the cell phone and stared in silent wonder. His little brother actually seemed to be getting his shit together.

Ross had arrived at the Cat early in the morning, ready to work. No telltale signs of a night spent drinking and partying. His eyes were bright, his color healthy, and his energy up. He'd helped Michael load the dishes into the van. Helped Virgil and Paulie load the food. He'd even offered to cover the restaurant and let Niall go to the site to set up for the wedding reception.

It was the most together Ross had ever been.

Niall had almost accepted the offer but Ross had worked
hard to get the catering gig. Taking it from him at the last minute would have been cruel.

“Boss, it's four. I've put up the Closed sign,” Karma said, poking her head into the pantry where he'd been emptying boxes. “Paulie's already on site and Virgil's waiting for me to head over. You ready to go?”

“What about the cleanup here?” Niall broke down the last of the cardboard, adding it to the stack. He picked up the lot and turned to Karma. Her cap of dark brown curls was slicked back from her face into tighter ringlets than usual. Perhaps it was the black cummerbund that made her look more professional or the way she carried herself. But it was a little too formal.

“Hannah swept the kitchen, vacuumed the front, and loaded the last set of dishes before she rode with Paulie to the site.” Karma cocked her head to one side. “Didn't you see her leave? She went to your office looking for you.”

“No, I didn't see her.” He wished he had. He wanted to know if she'd liked the art supplies. Niall opened his mouth to ask Karma, then closed it again wordlessly. Karma already noticed too much, no need to give her more information. “Go on ahead. I'll be at the site shortly.”

“Meet ya there.” Karma nodded, then withdrew.

Niall followed her out the back door and tossed the flattened boxes into the recycling bin, then headed back inside. He'd barely flipped the lock when someone knocked. He opened the door to find Dawn. She looked exhausted and too ill to be at the restaurant.

“What are you doing here?” Niall asked, hurrying to where she swayed in the doorway.

“I forgot to give this to Miss Renee.” She lifted a bag in the air.

One glance inside and Niall understood. The cake topper and cake cutter were nestled inside. He took the bag from her hands and put an arm around her waist. “I'll get them to the site. You need to get home and back in bed. Did you drive here?”

She nodded and swayed more. Niall tightened his hold on her, then brushed his cheek against her hot forehead.

“Well, leave your car. I'll take you home. You shouldn't be driving. You're burning up.” He helped her outside and into his truck. “Stay here, I need to lock up.”

He dashed inside to grab his tuxedo shirt, tie, and cummerbund from his office. On his desk sat a watercolor portrait of him in his Marines uniform. The note next to it read, “Thank you for the art supplies. I love them—Hannah.”

The painting was curled at the edges, but otherwise flawless. Hannah had drawn the portrait of him his mother kept in his bedroom. It was incredible. An almost exact copy except for the tiny blue owl in the lower right corner next to her signature.

Niall grinned, then carefully laid the painting back down. He'd take it to his mother in the rehabilitation center tomorrow before he introduced her to Hannah.

After locking up, Niall returned to his car to find Dawn fast asleep, her head propped against the passenger side window. He drove her home and managed to get her to the front door. It swung open and her mother appeared wearing a bright red track suit, Dawn's son wrapped around his grandmother's right leg.

“Momma tick?” the child asked around a mouthful of thumb.

“Yes, she is. Can I bring her in, Mrs. Mays?”

“Her room's at the end of the hall.” The woman swept the preschooler into her arms and followed Niall down the hallway. She skirted past him and opened a door on the right. Two twin beds were pushed to opposite sides of the room. One bedspread was decorated in cartoon planes and covered with toy cars, bears, and stuffed trucks that matched the comforter. The other bed was more sedate. All yellow sheets and blankets.

Niall set Dawn down on the yellow bed, then turned to her mother. “I'm sorry but I can't stay.”

“The wedding reception.” The older woman nodded. She stroked the little boy's brown curls. “She was really counting on that money today.”

Dawn was a good employee. She hadn't missed a day of work until this week. “We'll work it out. Is there something she needs today?”

The woman glanced at her daughter, then shook her head. “No. What she needs is rest. I'll take care of her. Thank you for bringing her home. I was so worried when she got in the car this afternoon. But she said she had a job to do and didn't want to let you down.”

“She did a great job.” Niall turned to Dawn, who'd already drifted back into a fitful sleep. “Get some rest. I'll see you when you're feeling better.”

Niall ruffled the boy's hair and made him giggle, then headed to the site. He hoped whatever Dawn had wasn't catching. He couldn't afford to lose another server tonight.

*   *   *

H
ANNAH KEPT HER
gloves on while she helped set up the twelve circular tables and the metal folding chairs. No one noticed, or if they did, they kept the questions to themselves. Thank goodness.

She'd expected hard work setting up for a wedding reception and wasn't disappointed. What surprised her was how much fun she was having. The catering staff laughed and joked the whole time. And as each table was decorated on the grassy knoll overlooking the ocean, the place became more ethereal.

The tables were arranged beneath a large, white, canopied tent. White lights were strung around the edges of the tent, then crisscrossed under it, so it would resemble stars in the sky when the sun went down. White taper candles in hurricane glasses were centerpieces. Each glass was surrounded by a wreath of purple, red, and yellow roses.

Hannah smiled. The flowers reminded her of her tattoo. She suspected that was not an accident. She may have only remembered about the triumvirate of roses because of the locket, but her sisters had probably always known.

She headed past the three-tier wedding cake, elegantly decorated in white roses with tiny silver bells and balls cascading down what appeared to be a long veil from the top of the cake. It would have been stunning, except the cake topper was noticeably absent. By design?

Even in her artistic brain, the piece looked unfinished. But some people liked that style.

A crash erupted in another tent. The food tent was set up behind the huge three-story house everyone called a cottage. The tent shared a wall and part of the roof with the cottage. It was probably used as a patio when caterers weren't there.

Hannah hurried away from the cake table, across the dance floor, and into the portable kitchen. Paulie and Ross were struggling to right the toppled baking rack of trays. One wheel had slid off the puzzle-piece flooring and sunk into the sandy grass. One long tray of bruschetta lay splattered on the ground.

Hannah jumped in and tried to move the wheel from the sand, but couldn't lift it.

“Switch with me,” Paulie called out.

They changed spots, and in moments, the wheel was out of the sand and back on the flooring again. The rest of the appetizers had slid on their trays, but otherwise remained unscathed. Except for the two dozen on the floor.

“What happened?” Ross panted, his hands on his knees.

“I don't know. I went to put the last tray on the shelf and I bumped into the pillar. Something shocked me.” Paulie rubbed his left elbow and gestured to the white wall of the house. A thick orange extension cord trailed from the house to the portable refrigeration unit.

Hannah trailed her hand down the wall and across the box. Both were cool to the touch. Then she followed the orange and black cord from the spot where it was plugged into the wall, and back to the refrigeration unit. She was nearly there when she found it.

“I see the problem.” She gestured to the cord's frayed and exposed wiring near the base of the fridge. “The cord's damaged. You need to unplug it before it starts a fire. Do you have a spare one?”

“Not with me. Dammit,” Ross said, yanking it from the wall roughly.

“I'm not trying to be picky but that might be part of the problem. You shouldn't yank cords out of the outlet like that.
Look at this.” She held up the power cord to show where the wiring was exposed near the head. “This happens when people don't pull it by the base.”

“I don't need a lesson, I need a damned working cord,” Paulie snapped. “My food is going to spoil in this heat before we can serve the salads.”

“It'll be fine, Paulie.” Ross patted him on the back reassuringly. “I'll go buy another. Won't take me more than a few minutes. You think you can handle the setup until I get back?”

The question was posed to her and Hannah blinked in surprise. “Me?”

“You're the only server on site that I've worked with before. Sadie's not here yet. Karma is on her way with Virgil. Who knows where Niall is. And all the rest of the staff were hired for this weekend only.”

Seemed like a lot of responsibility to put on the shoulders of someone he'd only met a few days earlier, but she could see how important a successful event was to him. Plus, it was her sister's wedding reception. Not that Jules or Shelley knew she was here. Yet.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Thanks, Hannah. You're the best.” Ross's eyes sparkled. “Paulie, I'll be back fast.”

“I can go, Ross,” Paulie said, putting a hand on the other man's arm, holding him in place. “Really, I need to get this up and running in under ten minutes. If the food goes bad, that'll be the end of the catering business.”

The men seemed to be talking in some sort of code. As if they weren't really discussing the need to replace a broken power cord.

“I promise you. I
will
be back in ten minutes.” Ross smiled but the spark of hope and joy in his eyes had dimmed. “Trust me.”

Again, there seemed to be a silent code going on between them. Paulie released his hold and nodded. “See you in ten.”

Ross didn't smile, didn't nod, but turned and strode out.

Paulie watched him leave, then turned a sharp look her way. “Next time you notice a problem, can you please take
it to Niall or fix it yourself? Ross shouldn't have to deal with everything.”

Hannah started to ask what he meant, but Virgil walked in with Karma. Niall appeared right behind them.

“Shit,” Paulie muttered.

Niall glanced around. His gaze collided with hers. Her pulse and her breathing kicked up as if she'd just run a half marathon. What little breath she managed to suck in was sapped out when he smiled at her.

“Hi, Hannah,” Niall said, pulling her aside. In a lowered voice only she could hear, he said, “Thank you for the painting.”

Warmth spread through her at his touch. At his words. “You like it?”

He nodded. “I was thinking, if it's all right with you, I'd give it to my mom. She always loved the picture of me in uniform.”

She wasn't sure what to say. He liked the painting enough to give it to his mother? A ridiculous bubble of hope rose in her chest. “Sure. That-that'd be great.”

Niall glanced at the others who appeared to pay them no mind. He stepped closer until he was practically close enough to kiss, then asked in an even quieter voice, “Did you paint that from memory?”

She tapped her finger against her temple. “Almost photographic. Sometimes I can see an image and it just sticks.” Like his face during their night together. “I'm glad you liked it.”

“Where's Ross?” Virgil asked, his voice cutting through the intimacy of their moment.

“He, uh . . . will be right back,” Paulie replied.

Niall's grin transformed into a scowl. He stepped back and whipped his gaze to Paulie. “He's not here? It's nearly five o'clock. The reception starts in an hour. And he decided to take off
now
?”

“We had a problem, Niall.” Hannah picked up the damaged cord and held it out for Niall's inspection. “The wires are frayed. Paulie got shocked when the exposed wires came into contact with the tray stand. Ross went to pick up a new power cord. He'll be right back.”