Secret Vows (Hideaway (Kimani)) (15 page)

Jason had learned how to deal with women from the onset of puberty. His former musician father had sat him down and didn’t hold back when his dad had told him about the women he’d met and those he’d slept with before marrying Serena Morris. His advice was to look for a woman who wanted Jason for himself and not for what she wanted him to give her. Every woman Jason had met since becoming sexually active wanted something. It hadn’t mattered whether it was money, his family’s influence or a chance at stardom.

He’d offered Greer what so many talented singers wanted—a recording contract—but she’d turned him down.

He walked to the door, opening it. Pepper stood behind the bar, glaring at him. “Is Greer okay?” he growled.

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“Look, kid—”

“I’m not a kid,” Jason said between clenched teeth. “And if you’re not aware that I would never do anything to hurt her, then you’re completely clueless.”

Pepper beckoned to him. “Come here, Cole.” Jason took two steps, and Pepper caught him at the back of the neck. “You’re in love with her,” he said under his breath.

“What the...” The four-letter curse died on his tongue. First it was Chase and now it was Pepper asking him about his feelings toward Greer. Who was next? Bobby?

Pepper gave him a wide grin. “You don’t have to answer that, son, because it’s as plain as the nose on your face. I know she got to you. And don’t worry about Bobby. He likes you a lot so I don’t think you’re going to have a problem with him.”

Jason’s impassive expression did not falter. “That’s nice to know. Now I’ll appreciate it if you let go of my neck.”

Pepper dropped his hand. “Sorry about that.”

Jason mounted the stage where Doug was playing a guitar riff from John Mayer’s “Bold As Love.” Greer sat on the stool, keeping time as she patted her thigh. Sitting down at the keyboard, Jason’s fingers rippled across the keys, his right foot tapping rhythmically. Doug segued into Mayer’s “In Repair.” The drummer, sax player and the two other guitarists connected seamlessly in what had become a jam session, while those in the restaurant who were familiar with the song sang along. The Mayer retrospect continued with “Say.” Greer lent her voice to the catchy hook.

It took a full two minutes to quiet the crowd, before Greer sang “Silver Lining.” The applause hadn’t ended when she stood up, returning the stool to the corner. She met Jason’s eyes, nodding. He began playing the whistle-sounding notes and a gasp went up.

“Yes!” screamed a woman.

* * *

It was the encouragement Greer needed when she held the microphone to her mouth. She began Lisa Fischer’s haunting song in a husky whisper. By the time she reached the chorus, she felt free, freer than she’d felt since she was a child swimming in the lake and running through the woods in childish abandon.

She didn’t know if Jason had selected the songs to exorcise the demons that wouldn’t permit her to trust a man, or if he had felt they would best showcase her vocal range. Singing gave her a sense of freedom, and now she needed Jason to help her trust again.

Greer used the entire stage and her body. She closed her eyes and sang until she felt as if her heart would explode from sheer happiness. She’d become Lee Ann Womack, Bonnie Raitt and Lisa Fischer. Divas in their own right.

The song ended, and she placed the microphone on its stand and blew kisses to the standing crowd. She walked over to each member of the band and hugged them. She felt euphoric, almost high like she’d been injected with a stimulant. Bobby was there to meet her when she walked off the stage, picking her up and swinging her around.

“Oh, if my Stella could be here to see you now,” he whispered in her ear.

Greer tightened her hold on his neck. “She is here, Uncle Bobby. She’s looking down on us and smiling.”

* * *

Jason found himself unable to look away from Greer and her uncle. Bobby’s expression was that of a proud father. Jason met her tear-filled eyes over Bobby’s broad shoulder. Jason smiled and she nodded. Why couldn’t he see it when it was so obvious to others? It’d taken him three weeks to discover what he’d avoided for thirty-three years. He’d found a woman he wanted more than music.

Chapter 12

J
ason touched the button for the wipers as the rain intensified. Despite concentrating on the dark winding road leading to Chase’s house, he was ever mindful of the woman sitting next to him. Greer was unusually quiet since they’d left Stella’s.

“We really don’t have to go if you don’t want.”

Greer’s head came around. “I told you I’d go, so why are you changing your mind?” she asked.

“I haven’t changed my mind. It’s just that you’re so quiet that I thought maybe you’re too tired to go out.”

Greer stared at Jason’s profile, awed by his masculine beauty. When she’d asked him if he looked like his twin sister, his response had been “More or less.” In her opinion it was
more
. He truly was a beautiful man; a man she found herself falling madly in love with. Even if they were to have a sexual relationship, she knew it would end here.

Jason had planned to return to Florida just before Christmas, and she wouldn’t know where she’d be. One thing she was certain of was that she wasn’t going back to Phoenix. She was now an agent with the Seattle Field Division, and that meant she either could continue to work in Oregon or there was the possibility she could be transferred to Washington, Idaho, Alaska, Hawaii or Guam. Greer didn’t like extremes when it came to weather, and Alaska wasn’t on her favorites list. She didn’t mind snow, but not accumulations of biblical proportions.

“I don’t think I could sleep even if I want to. I’m really wound rather tight.”

Jason gave her a quick glance. “Are you certain you’ve never sung in front of an audience?”

She shook her head. “Not as a soloist. Why?”

“You have what only a few vocalists have and that’s an innate stage presence. It doesn’t matter whether you’re just sitting and singing or moving across the stage, you’re mesmerizing. What you have is the ability to seduce a crowd.”

She smiled. “Does that include yours truly?”

His expression grew hard. “You already know about that.”

“Why do I get the impression that you’re bothered by it? I thought you’d be flattered.”

“I’m not bothered.”

“Yes, you are, Jason. Why else would you go Neanderthal on me? First you kiss me, then you practically drag me off the stage in front of over a hundred people to a room that is little more than a closet. Can you imagine what they were thinking?”

“No.”

“Think, Jason.”

He maneuvered around a copse of trees, turning down the road leading to Chase’s house. “It definitely wouldn’t be a quickie because I prefer long, leisurely lovemaking.”

Greer didn’t want to talk about lovemaking because it’d been so long since anyone had made love to her that she’d almost forgotten what an orgasm felt like. All the signs were there that her marriage was in trouble when she and Larry had made love on average only three times a month. For most of the campaign trail, she was too tired and him too reticent to make love to her in a hotel room.

“Mission Grove is a small town, and I’m willing to bet there’s going to be talk about Bobby Henry’s niece and Stella’s house band’s piano player.”

“If you’re that worried about your reputation, then we can always get married,” Jason said glibly.

“That’s not even funny.”

He turned into the circular driveway, stopping in front of a three-car garage attached to a two-story farmhouse with a wraparound porch. “I didn’t mean it to be funny.” He came to a stop, shifting into Park. “Do you see me laughing?”

The lights from the dashboard threw long and short shadows over his face, making it difficult for Greer to read his expression, and she was at a loss for words. What did he expect her to say? That she was flattered that he wanted her to become Mrs. Jason Cole? Did he believe, if he married her, he could convince her to change her mind about signing a contract rather than an agreement?

“You don’t want to marry me,” she said in a quiet voice. “What you want is my voice on your terms. But that’s not going to happen because I can’t sign a contract with Serenity Records.”

Resting his right arm over the back of her seat, Jason gave Greer a long, penetrating stare. “I need you to answer one question for me, then I’ll never bring it up again.”

“What’s that?”

“Does your reluctance have anything to do with your ex-husband and his family?”

There was only the sound of their measured breathing and the wipers sluicing rain off the windshield as the seconds ticked by. “No,” Greer said after a pregnant silence.

It wasn’t the answer Jason was expecting. If it had been her ex, then he would’ve taken measures to protect Greer. But if she was hiding something, then there was nothing he could do. He’d thrown out marriage just to get her reaction, and he was uncertain of what his own reaction would’ve been if she’d accepted.

“Let’s go inside. I told Chase we’ll get here before two.”

He tapped lightly on the horn, and the door to one of garages slid up and Jason drove in. By the time he came around to assist Greer down, Chase was standing in the doorway connecting the garages to the main house.

Greer held on to her leather tote as she followed Jason up three steps and into the mudroom. She left her booties on a thick straw mat. She gave Chase a warm smile as he extended his hand.

“Welcome. I’m glad you could come.”

She shook the proffered hand. “Thanks for inviting me.”

There was something different about the man who came to Stella’s for dinner, and then she realized he was wearing glasses. The lenses were slightly tinted. His sun-browned complexion was evidence he spent a lot of time outdoors.

Chase took a quick glance at Greer’s bare feet before she slipped on a pair of ballet flats. They were professionally groomed. He usually judged a woman’s meticulousness if she took care of her hands and her feet. “Come into the living room where it’s warmer.” He patted Jason’s shoulder. “You guys were
outrageous
tonight. I felt as if I was at a live concert.”

Jason left his Doc Martens on the mat beside Greer’s booties. “They definitely were on fire.” He followed Chase and Greer into the living room where a fire roared behind a decorative screen. Waiting until she sat on a club chair, he took one opposite her.

Chase stood with his back to the fireplace. “Would either of you like something to drink?”

“I’d like some water,” Greer said.

Chase smiled. “Wouldn’t you like something stronger?”

She shook her head. “Just water, please.”

Jason stood up. He knew Chase wanted to be alone with Greer. “I’ll get it. Do you want anything, Chase?”

“I’ll have a beer.”

* * *

Greer took in everything about the room in one sweeping glance. It was spacious, uncluttered and decorated for family living, yet she understood that Chase lived alone. Crossing her legs at the ankles she looked directly at him.

“Why did you invite
us
here?”

Chase took three long strides and hunkered down beside her chair. “I wanted to see you.”

She blinked once. “You see me at Stella’s practically every day.”

“What I should’ve said is I
need
to talk to you.”

“What about?”

“When Jason comes back, I want you to ask me to show you the house.”

Greer didn’t like the direction in which their conversation was going. “I’m not going to ask you to do anything until you give me a good reason why I should.”

“We work for the same uncle,” Chase whispered. He stood up straight and walked back to the fireplace.

She stared at Charles Bromleigh as if he had a third eye in the middle of his forehead. Greer didn’t want to believe they were on the same side. That is, if he was telling the truth. And there was always the possibility that he’d discovered who she was and... Her thoughts trailed off. She knew she had to remain calm, in control, until she heard what he had to say. If he knew who she was, then she wanted to know who he was. There was no file on him; no evidence that he had ever existed. Jason had mentioned Chase’s parents lived in Hawaii, but she’d checked the name again on her computer and discovered there was no one listed on the state census named Bromleigh. Who was he? CIA? FBI? DEA? ICE? He definitely wasn’t ATF.

She engaged him in a stare-down that would’ve ended in a stalemate if Jason hadn’t come back into the room, gripping two longnecks in one hand and a glass of ice water in the other.

“Your fridge needs a serious makeover,” he teased, handing Greer the glass of water and Chase a bottle of beer. They touched bottles in a toast.

“I know it’s rather bare.”

“It’s beyond bare,” Jason countered. “All you have is bottled water, beer, a single egg and a half stick of butter.”

Chase nodded. “Now you see why I eat at Stella’s. I’d planned to go the supermarket tomorrow but, about two minutes before you guys drove up, I got a call from a buddy to come and hang out with him for a couple weeks. He has a hunting lodge in Idaho overlooking a lake where we fly-fish, cook our catch over an open fire and watch sports channels 24/7.”

“Fishing is something I never got into,” Jason admitted.

Greer smiled at him. “I’ll have to teach you.”

“You fly-fish?” Jason questioned.

“Yes,” she said proudly. “My uncle taught me.”

Chase angled his head. “Maybe one of these days you’ll join us. The lodge sleeps twelve.”

Greer studied their host when Chase sat on the sofa, looping one denim-covered leg over the other. His jeans had been washed so much they were threadbare, and his faded navy-blue sweatshirt was equally shabby. Even his footwear had seen better days. The leather moccasins were torn
and
faded. He really intrigued her. He lived in a multimillion-dollar gated community, ate at a local no-frills restaurant and dressed as if he were homeless.

She took a sip of water, then set the glass down on the coaster on a side table. It was time to end the farce. “Chase, I’d love to see your house. Would you mind giving me a tour?”

Chase set down his beer on a matching coaster on the coffee table. “I’d love to, if your boyfriend doesn’t mind me monopolizing you for a few minutes.”

Nothing in Jason’s expression revealed his inner thoughts. “Greer is her own woman, and she doesn’t need my permission to do whatever she wants to do.”

A smile parted Chase’s lips. “That’s what I like. A man who is secure enough to trust his woman with another man.”

Jason glared at his friend. “It has nothing to do with being secure. It’s all about trust.”

Greer felt the rising tension and the posturing between the two men. Jason knew how she felt about Chase even if he hadn’t known she’d suspected his friend of selling illegal firearms.

“Jason’s right,” she said in defense of the man with whom she found herself fighting her feelings every second they shared the same space. She didn’t want to believe it, had fought the pull, but to no avail. She was falling in love with Jason. “We trust each other unconditionally.” She stood up, both men rising with her. “I would like that tour before it gets any later.”

Chase offered his arm, and she looped hers through his, feeling the heat of Jason’s gaze on her back as they walked out of the living room to a flight of stairs leading to the second level.

“I like that most houses in this development are different architectural styles,” she said, climbing the staircase. Greer felt she had to say something, anything to pretend she was interested in seeing Chase’s house, which she wasn’t in the least. Perhaps she would’ve been if he hadn’t mentioned them working for the same
uncle
. It didn’t take the intelligence of a genius to know he was talking about the federal government and perhaps the department of justice.

Chase led Greer down a long hallway to a room at the end. Pushing open the door, he stepped aside to allow her to enter first. She knew instantly it was his bedroom. It was wholly masculine with heavy dark furniture and a leather seating group. He indicated a chair near a window.

“Please sit down.” She complied as he sat on a bench at the foot of the large bed. “I’m going to make this quick, so listen carefully. I’m going away tomorrow for at least a month, and I want you to stick close to Jason.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I know who you are and what you do.” Chase held up a hand when she opened her mouth. “Don’t say anything until I’m finished.” It wasn’t a request but a directive. “I know why you’re in Mission Grove. And please don’t ask me how I know.”

“Who the hell are you?” Greer asked, disobeying his demand.

“I’m someone who doesn’t exist, ATF Special Agent Evans. I’m what is referred to as a ghost.”

She closed her eyes, digesting this information. The FBI employed ghost agents whenever they wanted to keep surveillance on other agents they suspected of espionage. “Which agency?”

“It’s been eight years since I was connected to an agency. Right now I’m somewhat of a corporate warrior.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re a professional mercenary.”

He smiled and removed the glasses with the tinted lenses. “Actually I prefer the term professional security expert.” Chase rubbed his eyes with his fingertips, then replaced the glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Did Jason tell you about the ongoing feud between Serenity and Slow Wyne Records?”

“No.”

“Ana signed Justin Glover to a recording contract in a bidding war with L.A.-based Slow Wyne Records. Although she’d come in with a much lower bid, it was the terms in Serenity’s contract that Glover’s agent felt were more advantageous to his client’s long-term career. Unfortunately Basil Irvine didn’t take kindly to being usurped by, what he referred to as,
a little girl.
In the end he was the one who wound up in the ground.”

Greer leaned forward. “What does this have to do with Jason?”

“There are people who believe he has replaced his sister as a target for Slow Wyne retaliation.”

“Who are these people?”

“I can’t tell you that. They’ve hired me to keep an eye on him. He’s safe as long as he’s behind the walls at Bear Ridge or at Stella’s. Fortunately he spends most of his time at home and the restaurant. But it’s when he’s out and about that he becomes a sitting duck. I have a few of my people watching him—”