Hard Silence (28 page)

When he walked out of the bedroom, she was sitting in the middle of the fold-out bed in the dark, or what passed for dark in Chicago. She was staring at the photograph of their tree.

“That looks good here,” she murmured. “It glows in the dark.”

“Which is why I hung it there.” Jeff walked to the window and stared at his shadow stretching across the mattress, as if even it was reaching for her. “I’m glad to have it. I hear your work is outside my price range now.”

She ducked her head. “Being notorious has a few advantages. Tom Beckett wants me to come talk to his class.”

“Really?” What would she do if she knew Tom had emailed him to see if he wanted to join the teaching staff in Hastings? “Are you going to?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. But my thesis advisor asked me to teach a photography class. I think I’d like to do that.”

Her words were coming easier now, but she had the blanket gripped in her fist. “Where’s Toby?”

“He’s home. He gets to be a dog now most of the time.” She smiled a real, honest smile that broke his heart. “He’s very confused.”

He wasn’t the only one. “Will you be okay out here?”
Please say no.

She nodded. “It’s comfortable, thank you.”

Comfortable, hell. There would be a bar across the middle of her back and the mattress wasn’t much thicker than a ham sandwich. “Sure.” He fell silent, content to watch her in his space, until he realized that her smile had vanished while she was looking at the photographs of his family. “What?”

“They look very nice—normal.” She sighed. “Ned wants us to come to Kentucky for Christmas and meet everyone, but I’m not sure. I’m not used to having a family.”

“You have Evan. He calls you Mom. He still calls me Jeff.”

“He’ll try
Dad
out for a bit to see if you correct him. Then he’ll ask.”

Silence grew between them, and it pressed against Jeff, making him want to say and do everything that would scare her off on her first night here. He pushed himself away from the window. “Good night.”

“Jeff?”

He was halfway across the room when he looked over his shoulder, hoping she’d say what he wanted to hear.

“I’m going to adopt Evan. You and Trish can’t take him. I’ll fight you with everything I have.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

She’d expected him to be angry, but she hadn’t planned on his thunderous expression as he marched back to the bed and yanked her from under the blankets. They were to his bedroom before she found her voice.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re about to have a fight, and I don’t want Evan to hear it.” He pulled her into the room and shut the door before he released her.
“Trish?”

“Well it’s sort of obvious you two are involved.” She moved to the far corner of the room, putting as much distance between them as possible.

“That would be news to her husband.” He ran his hand through his hair and stared at the ceiling. “God, Abby. What’s it going to take for you to trust me?”

She put her hand over her mouth, too late to remove her foot from it, but soon enough to prevent worse damage. Dammit. He’d always made it too easy for her to say what she thought.

When he looked at her, he’d aged decades. “You thought I’d just move on?”

“You left.” He’d come back to his life. He was
supposed
to move on.

“Because you told me to,” he snapped. “Over and over again. A guy can only hear that so many times before he pays attention.”

“Since when do you pay attention to anything I say?”

“When you’d rather die than stick around.”

“You were there?” She’d never asked about what had happened after the explosion. She’d been afraid of the answers.

“Who do you think broke your
fucking
ribs?”

He sagged against the wall, drawn and haggard, struggling for breath as though he was deflating in front of her.

All those plans to keep him safe, to take the punishment so he didn’t have to, because she couldn’t bear to see him hurt. It had never occurred to her that he’d share it anyway. What had she done?

She raced around the bed to reach him, cradling his jaw, heartbroken yet relieved to finally touch him. “I’m so sorry.”

He dropped his head into her palm, begging for attention much like Toby did, and she gave it. He shuddered under her hands as she ran her fingers through his soft hair.

“I broke you,” he whispered. “I
broke
you.”

Abby put his hand on her chest, pressing it flat so he could feel her heartbeat. “I’m fine, baby.”

He opened his eyes, and his haunted stare stole her breath. “Why didn’t you let me help you?”

“Because you would have run in there to save me,” she said, keeping one hand over his. “And she would have hurt you.” She traced her thumb across his cheek, relishing the stubble contrasting with his soft skin. “I couldn’t let her do that.”

He yanked her to him, plastering them together as he sealed his lips over hers. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. Every hot, hungry stroke reached places she’d hidden since she’d collapsed in her burning home. When she tried to pull away, he bracketed her face and burrowed his fingers in her hair, forcing her to stay where she wanted to be anyway.

But now more than ever she was sure he’d never see beyond their past. She wrapped her fingers around his thick wrists and pulled.

“No,” he growled against her lips before he kissed her again, softer this time. Teasing her, tasting her like she was his favorite ice cream topping, until she was holding onto him and tasting him in return.

She had to stop this. Using the last bit of her will, Abby tugged his hands away.

“Why?” He rested his forehead against hers. “One good reason.”

“I’m trying to do the right thing. Please don’t make it hard.”

“How is me here and you there
right
?” She wriggled to get free, but he held onto her. “I want to come home, Abby.”

His whisper broke her heart. “No.” She dropped her head to his shoulder. “I won’t let you give up your life because you think you have to take care of me.” Her sobs wracked through her. “I won’t be selfish with you anymore.” Despite her words, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held tight.

Eventually Jeff stood straighter and nudged her to the bed, walking without letting her go. When she sat, he knelt in front of her and dried her eyes before swiping his hand down his face. “God, we’re a pair, aren’t we?” He combed his hand through his hair. “I am moving. They’ve offered me the job as the lab director for the Idaho State Police, and I’m taking it.”

She shook her head. “You can’t do this.” She put her hand over his mouth to stop his argument. “How are you ever going to look at me and not see stitches and duct tape?”

He plucked a bowl from his nightstand and put it in her hands. Under the light, the irregular gold seams sparkled, giving the simple piece a unique beauty.

“It’s called
kintsugi
,” he explained. “The Japanese developed it as a way to fix broken pottery. For them it’s a way of honoring the history of the piece.” He ran his thumb along her inner thigh, scorching her through the flimsy cotton of her pajamas. “It makes it more beautiful.” He brushed his lips along her hairline. “Stronger.” He kissed the still-red scar on her neck and dragged his mouth up her skin until he reached her ear. “Precious.”

He slid his hands under her shirt, around her ribs and up her back, tracing the long, bumpy scars and keeping her still when she would have squirmed away. “I would give anything to never have you hurt—past, present, or future—but you are beautiful to me because of your life, Abby, not in spite of it. I never should’ve left you.” He kissed her again, his lips clinging to hers. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”
Love
. It was such a small word for such an all-consuming feeling.

“You have to promise me something,” Jeff said, keeping her close and resting his forehead against hers. “From now on, we rush into trouble together. Okay?”

He didn’t want to take care of her or make her give up taking care of him. Happy tears pricked her eyelids as she nodded

“And since I’m already on my knees, why don’t you go ahead and agree to marry me? That way we can sleep together without scandalizing our little boy.”

“That’s the worst reason to propose,” she scolded gently.

“Wouldn’t know. I’ve never done it before.”

“But you’ve always wanted to?” It felt good, normal, to tease him.

Jeff shook his head. “You inspired me.” He closed his warm fingers around her trembling ones. “Marry me,” he repeated in a husky whisper.

Abby’s heart soared, and the most joyous word she’d ever felt danced on her tongue, but she was too overcome to say it. All she could do was nod and surrender to another thorough kiss.

When Jeff pulled back, his smile was wide and brilliant, and laughter had replaced the wariness in his gaze. “Say the word, darlin’.”

“Yes.”

* * * * *

To purchase and read more books by Mia Kay, please visit Mia’s website
here
or at
http://authormiakay.com/my-books/

And turn the page for an excerpt from SOFT TARGET, available now at all participating e-retailers.

Now available from Carina Press and Mia Kay

Maggie Mathis doesn’t need a bodyguard...or a husband.

Read on for a preview of
SOFT TARGET
, the first book in Mia Kay’s
AGENTS UNDERCOVER
series

Soft Target

by Mia Kay

Chapter One

A guy walks into a bar...

Every lame joke Graham Harper could remember flitted through his brain as he stood just inside the door of Orrin’s Bar. He was as tired as those overused punch lines.

Maybe the joke was on him. “Why don’t you come early? I could use your help,” Nate had said. “Bring your stuff.”

So Gray had spent five days in a moving van with all his portable belongings, like a turtle. The worn suspension rattled every bone in his body, and the springs in the seat had been poking him in the ass since Montana’s eastern border. All in the name of friendship.

The bartender looked away from her conversation with a group of patrons who towered over her. In a relaxed T-shirt and overalls, she would have passed for an urchin from
Oliver Twist
if not for her skin’s golden glow and the stylish pixie haircut. Her smile sparkled, as did her eyes. And that hair—honey, cream and platinum—he’d only met one person with hair like that.

“Hi, Gray. Welcome back. Want a beer?”

Only in Fiddler, Idaho, could he be absent ten years and be treated like he’d only gone around the corner.

He walked to the bar. “Hi, Maggie. Nice to see you. Shiner Bock, if you have it. Bottle’s fine.”

She put one in his hand, and the cold, dark glass numbed his fingers. Gray tipped the bottle, closed his eyes and let the icy, bitter beer wash down his throat for the first time in almost two months. When condensation dripped to the bar, Maggie slid a coaster and a napkin in his direction.

“Don’t I even get a hug?” he teased with a wink.

“You’re Nate’s friend,” she said, echoing his tone. “He can hug you.”

This joke was as old as the others. Maggie Mathis, his best friend’s sister, was always friendly, always warm and welcoming. And in all the time Gray had known her, she’d hugged him exactly once.

“Nathan!” she yelled over the rumble of conversation. “Gray’s here!”

The man winding through the crowd shared his sister’s smile, but years of working outside had bronzed his skin.

Nate and Maggie Mathis. The wonder twins.

“You always were a sneaky bastard.” Nate’s grumble was diffused by a laugh.

The trademark cackle was as large a part of Gray’s college memories as his degrees. He’d heard it before he reached his assigned dorm room on the first day of orientation. As a Nebraska farm kid on a scholarship, Gray had been overwhelmed, already worried about his GPA and balancing his class schedule with work-study. Nate, the trust-fund baby from Idaho, had been planning a party to break the ice.

Gray braced himself for a hug like a half-nelson. Instead Nate hesitated, with a tentative smile and a raised hand. His gaze darted from one of Gray’s shoulders to the other.

Like I’m broken.

“Don’t hit the left one,” he muttered under his breath and forced a smile.

Shoulder to shoulder, halfway between a handshake and a hug, Nate whispered, “Do me a favor and just play along. I’ll explain later.”

Oh shit, not again.

“Guys!” Nate’s bellow silenced the crowd. “This is Gray Harper, best friend, best man, and our new business manager. Make him welcome, please.”

Business manager? What the hell?

“Nate.” Gray stooped to whisper, “What the fuck is going on?”

Nate dragged him across the room without answering. “You remember Kevin and Michael, don’t you?”

“Of course.” He stuck his hand out to a Nordic giant in wire-rimmed glasses. “Nice to see you again, Kevin.”

“It’s about time you came back,” Kevin answered. “We thought we pissed you off.”

Michael was next. He’d always been the most reserved of the group, but his callused grip was warm and his smile was as wide as Nate’s. “Welcome back.”

Their reunion was interrupted as a well-meaning but chaotic mob milled around the table while Nate yelled introductions over the din. Gray ignored his aching shoulder, spinning head and stiff smile as the crowd overwhelmed him. Maggie brought them refills and shooed everyone away.

“Don’t scare him before his first day.” She clucked after the men like a mother hen. “And Fred Drake, take off your hat. Your mother taught you better manners than that.”

A petite redhead weaved through the crowd. Gray recognized Faith Nelson, Nate’s fiancée, from the photos Nate had emailed over the last year.

“Gray Harper, Faith. Nice to meet you.”

She ignored his outstretched hand and snatched him into a hard hug. Despite losing his breath as pain lanced from his shoulder to his ribs, Gray warmed to the first person in months who hadn’t treated him like he was fragile.

As the tide of introductions waned, Gray surveyed the room. Warm yellow walls brightened the walnut floor and the matching trim around doors and windows uncluttered by the traditional neon beer advertisements.

Maggie held court behind a large oak bar, and red caps emblazoned with the Mathis logo crowded every surface or hung from chairs. There wasn’t a waitress. There weren’t any guitar solos screaming from a jukebox. The air was crisp, as if the windows had been open until the day had cooled in the sunset. No one was drunk. This was the weirdest bar he’d ever seen. But then, the Mathis family had always been unconventional.

Every college summer, instead of touring Europe or sunning on the beach, the twins had worked in the family quarries and lumber mills. Their only true vacation had been two weeks in July when their friends had flown in to play. Gray had come from his parents’ farm to join Nate and his childhood buddies, and Maggie’s college roommates had come from wherever they lived when they weren’t on campus in Seattle.

Maggie’s smile caught his attention, just as it had during those summer adventures. He drained the last of his beer and walked to the bar, winding through the friendly crowd, for another round.

Glassware and liquor bottles lined the shelves facing him. Framed photographs documented years of celebrations. One was of an older couple standing where he and Maggie were now.

Maggie followed his stare. “That’s Orrin and Faye Coleman, the bar’s original owners. He died a few years ago, and she’s in assisted living across town. You’re renting their old house.”

Before he could ask why he needed a house, Nate clapped him on the left shoulder, and Gray’s knees shook. He wasn’t sure if it was from pain or fear. Neither was good.

“Let’s go see your office.”

He was swallowed by a dark hallway, and Gray’s throat constricted as his stomach churned. The ceiling fan cooled the sweat on the nape of his neck.
It’s just a hallway, Harper. Get a grip.

He put one foot in the shadows, then another. Step, breathe. Step, breathe. Once he was inside the bright office, Nate closed the door. The men dropped into opposite chairs in front of a desk that managed to be imposing and understated at the same time. Gray’s head fell backward as he drew a deep breath and waited for his knees to quit shaking.

“Now that we’re alone, how are you? Really,” Nate asked.

On top of being drenched in a cold sweat, Gray imagined creaks and squeaks in his joints. Every morning he looked in the bathroom mirror to see if the screws in his shoulder and ribs had ruptured his skin while he slept. When he slept.

“It bothers me less every day.”

He needed to start keeping a list of the lies he was telling. At some point, confession would be in order.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Nate scolded. “How does a white-collar FBI agent get shot anyway?”

“Raids and arrests are part of the job, and money makes suspects as desperate as any other criminal.”
Especially mousy accountants committing investment fraud with money they skimmed from the mob.

Nate shifted in the chair and bounced his fingers against the upholstered arm. “How much longer will you be on leave?”

“Until I can get through physical therapy without a spotter.”
And until I can prove I’m not addicted to Vicodin and can see a closed door without thinking I’m in a cage.

“A month.” Gray’s conscience twinged. “Maybe two.”

“Is Shelby coming out later? After talking to her so much while you were in the hospital, I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

“No.” Gray sighed as he stared at the ceiling. This was another confession he avoided. “We—I—ended things about a month ago.”

“Damn. I’m sorry.”

Gray waved off the concern and changed the subject. “Why am I here two months before your bachelor party, and why the hell does everyone think I’m coming to work for you?”

There was a knock at the door a second before it opened. Maggie thrust a box at him. “You’ll need these. I’ve labeled them to make it easier.” She held up a small key ring. “There’s one for each door and the office. The larger ring has all the quarry office keys.” She lifted a second bundle. “These are your house keys. The garage door opener is in here, too. And I’ve put the lease on your desk. Nate insisted on month to month in case you don’t like Faye’s house. But if you don’t, you’re screwed because it’s the only place to rent in town.”

She was gone as fast as she’d come.

Enough was enough. He faced Nate. “What. The. Fuck.”

“She has a stalker.”

A familiar jolt of adrenaline fired through Gray’s system as his brain seized the first puzzle pieces of a new case. It felt good until he saw Nate’s tense jaw and shadowed eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Flowers have arrived every Monday for six months from some anonymous bastard. The accompanying notes are creepy as hell.”

“Define
creepy
.”

“They start out sweet—’I think you’re pretty’ sort of stuff. But they end with promises to come get her or be the last person she sees.” Nate’s ease had evaporated and taken his smile with it. Now his eyes were sharp and his jaw muscles gathered at his ear. His elbows rested on his knees, and his fingers were steepled together. He perched on the edge of his chair as if he was prepared to leap into action. “It’s clear he’s following her around, watching everything she does, and just
waiting
for some signal. And I can’t—”

Gray put up a hand to stop Nate’s typical headfirst rush. “Usually it’s someone you know.”

Nate snorted. “Dude, we know
everyone
in Fiddler, and I can’t imagine any of them would do this.”

“Is it always the same florist?”

“Our
only
florist. They’re ordered through FTD and Teleflora.”

“Payment?”

“Prepaid gift card.”

“You can’t get a judge to issue a warrant?”

“I’ve tried. Since he hasn’t approached her, they don’t consider him a threat and I can’t ask for special treatment.”

Despite belonging to the wealthiest family in town, Nate and Maggie had been born with shovels in their hands instead of silver spoons in their mouths.
No special treatment
was the family motto.

“How’s she handling it?”

Nate shook his head. “She refuses to suspect anyone or to change her behavior. The police department tries to watch her, but she ducks them. I suggested a bodyguard, and she quit carrying my favorite beer for a month. I’m afraid to suggest a security system.”

Gray frowned. “She’s never been irresponsible.”

“Yeah, but she’s always been independent. She thinks she can figure it out on her own. That if the guy knows her, he won’t hurt her. He’ll eventually come forward,” Nate grumbled. “But something’s not right. It’s gone on too long.”

Gray remembered the family who’d welcomed him, the friends who’d laughed with him during those college summers. Maggie had always been the bright spot at their center. The girl who brought
Anna Karenina
to the lake, wouldn’t camp without a sound system and doted on her family but rolled her eyes when they weren’t looking. Memories of her had followed him home each year and haunted him until Christmas break. She’d been off-limits on so many levels for more reasons than he could count. And he’d counted them—repeatedly.

“How can I help?”

“Find this guy while you’re here?” Nate’s raised eyebrows added to the plea.

“Aww, shit. Nathan, despite the badge and the gun, I’m basically a tax attorney. It would make more sense for me to be involved if he was embezzling to buy the flowers.”

Nate persisted. “I don’t know what else to do. I’ve tried. The police have tried. In a town this size, it shouldn’t be difficult. Maybe we just need a set of fresh eyes.” His grin was lopsided and brief. “And I know you can’t resist the challenge.”

Gray shifted positions and wondered if the creak he heard was the chair or his battered shoulder. Challenge and adrenaline aside, he wasn’t up for this. “Nate—”

“She’s the only family I have. I’m in the middle of wedding plans, a honeymoon, and being a newlywed. Not to mention work. I can’t be everywhere at the same time, and
everyone
deserves my full attention. Besides, I
suck
at details. You know that. If she gets hurt because I—” Nate stared at a spot on the floor. “I need someone I trust to look out for her, without her knowing they’re looking out for her.”

Gray’s head throbbed as Nate’s cockeyed plan came into focus.
Business manager, office, house.
“You’re a moron. You know that, right? This will never work. She’s got all the brains.”

“She’s been after me for a year to hire a business manager. We’re spread too thin, and it’s only getting worse.”

“So I’ve suddenly left a career in law enforcement to manage quarries?”

“I’ve never told her about the FBI. As far as she knows, you’re a tax attorney with an MBA and you’ve been working in Chicago since she last saw you.” Nate leaned forward in his chair. “You’re the only person I trust with her.”

Gray had seen Nate this tense only once, on the darkest day of the twins’ lives. That convinced him more than anything else Nate had said. So did Maggie’s laughter filtering through the door.

“Okay, I’ll try. But I get to say when I’m in over my head.”

Nate dropped back into the chair, and his deep exhale ended in a wide grin. “Thanks. Glen Roberts, the police chief, is the only other person who knows why you’re really here. He’ll give you access to whatever you need. Oh, and Faith knows. Can’t keep a secret from my girl.”