Things Lost In The Fire (21 page)

I
T WASN’T often he found himself in the Hollywood Hills, but now he was about to make his fourth trek up the mountain that week. This time, he detoured down a different street that took him up to Ben McRae’s Spanish-style rancher with million dollar views of the city.

Brody parked beside Sadie’s car in the driveway, his eyes on that view. There was just a glimpse of it beyond the trees that flanked the house, but there it was. Hot and glittering like a jewel in the sun.

He trotted up to the front door and knocked, making sure to wipe the sweat from his hands on his jeans. The fact that he was nervous bothered him to no end. What did he have to be afraid of? This was Sadie. His Sadie. And she knew he wasn’t at fault for outing her secret, so all was good. Now he just had to work at keeping their relationship on solid ground so he could get what he needed out of her—the truth that would set them both free.

When the door opened and she appeared before him, he blinked. If he’d expected hysterics from her, he was dead wrong. There was a hint of anger behind her eyes, but other than that she only looked tired.

“Hey,” she greeted. She smiled awkwardly and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then stepped back to invite him in.

“Hi.” He entered and took a quick look around, admiring her father’s home. It lacked the personal touches of photographs and knick-knacks, but then again Ben spent most of his time in Boston with the family he chose over Sadie. Brody wondered how it felt for her to live in the home her father had abandoned, just like he had abandoned her. Maybe she didn’t make that correlation at all.

“Would you like something to drink? I have water, juice…”

“Do you have beer?” Brody asked, turning to her with a grin. When she blushed, he felt his confidence come roaring back. She was just as nervous as he was and for some reason he enjoyed the hell out of it.

“Um, I might. Let me see if Tess bought any.” She wandered into the kitchen, prompting him to follow. Instead he went past the kitchen and straight for the sliding glass doors, his eyes on the view outside.

He could hear her rummaging around in the fridge and glass clicking together. The snap and hiss of the bottles opening preceded the sound of her footsteps. She came up beside him and offered a bottle of Stella Artois. “Thanks. You have one hell of a view, McRae.”

She let out a nervous laugh, her fingers clenched tightly around her own bottle. “Yeah. I like it.”

He took a long swig of beer and faced her. “You doing okay?”

A rush of breath left her lungs as she shook her head. “I’m really sorry, Brody. I feel awful.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He tapped his bottle to hers in an attempt to make her smile. “Like I said before, I would’ve blamed me too. I think it’s the face. Everyone always thinks I’m up to no good. Of course, nine times out of ten, they’re right.”

Humor softened her features. “You’re what we call a bad boy. It comes with the title.”

“I suppose it does.” He glanced around the room again, spotting the sofa and flat screen television. Soft, folksy music emitted from the speakers, reminiscent of quaint coffee houses in the city. “Nice place you got here.”

She shrugged. “I couldn’t bring myself to stay at my mother’s. Too much history. And now, too much drama.”

Now it was his turn to apologize. “You know, I didn’t go to the press with your secret, Sadie, but I did tell Valerie. So this is still pretty much my fault.”

Sadie nodded, toying with the wrapper on her beer bottle. “Yeah, she told me. There was no way you could’ve known that I hadn’t told her yet, though.”

“No, but I still talked to her behind your back. I’m sorry for that.”

“Why did you go see her?” Sadie asked, realizing she hadn’t thought about that. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked up at him.

“I wanted to see if she’d tell me the truth about who shot Lee Walker.”

Sadie flinched, panic a sharp jolt to her system. It was an instinctual reaction to hearing that name. “What? Why?”

Brody sipped more of his beer and continued calmly, figuring blunt honesty was more effective than lying to her. She wasn’t stupid; she’d figure him out eventually. “When I saw you again, it reminded me of what happened to you and how it was never really figured out. I want to find the truth for you.”

“And for yourself,” she added, inching away from him. Distrust hardened her eyes. “So this
is
all just for a story.”

“Yes and no.” He ran a hand through his hair, hating to see her doubt him. “It’s fifty percent me wanting to spend time with you, and fifty percent me wanting to find the truth so I can stick it to all the bastards who said I’d never be a journalist again. That’s fair, right?”

She frowned, considering his explanation. She was too practical to not see his side of it,
if
he was telling the truth this time. And
if
he was being honest with her, then she’d be stupid to deny she wanted the truth about Lee Walker’s death even more than he did. “I guess so.”

“Look at me,” he requested, resisting the urge to touch her. He didn’t know what flames he might spark if he did. When she met his eyes, he smiled with as much sincerity as he could muster. “Lying sucks and I hate to do it. I don’t want to lie to you. I want to keep seeing you because it makes me happy, and because I think we have a mutual interest. You can help me figure this out. Together we can get the truth, then you’ll know and then maybe I can weasel my way back into respectable society. It’s a win-win.”

She pouted. “I hate it when you make sense. I should be pissed off at you.”

He chuckled and set his beer aside on the counter, stuffing his hands into his pockets instead. In a move that was as casual as it was suggestive, he shifted closer to her until they were barely a foot apart. “You always had trouble staying mad at me.”

Her head tilted back as she looked up at him, realizing in that instant just how close he was. The fresh scent of his soap and that grin of his sent her pulse skipping. “I still don’t trust you.”

“Fair enough. I’m willing to earn it.” He nodded, pleased she wasn’t angry. “So we cool?”

“For now.” She pulled away from him, needing space. She knocked back the last of her drink and set aside the bottle. “More beer?”

“I don’t turn down a free beer.”

She grabbed two more from the fridge, then gestured for the sofa in the living room. “Want to watch a movie or something?”

“Sure.” He followed her to the sofa, where she sat down and curled her legs beneath her. He settled in beside her. “So what’s the plan now that Piper Gray is no more?”

“I don’t know,” Sadie admitted. “I guess I haven’t really accepted it yet.”

“You want my personal-and-only-slightly-biased opinion?”

Her lips curved. “Okay.”

“I think this is the best thing that ever happened to you. Now you have no choice but to be yourself.”

“You sound like Tommy and my brother,” Sadie realized, laughing. “Always my beacons of positivity.”

“I’m plenty cynical on most things,” Brody replied. “But since you brought up Tommy Barnes, mind if I ask you an investigation-related question?”

Sadie’s smile faded, but she nodded. “Just one for now.”

“Did Tommy ever say he saw Walker follow you upstairs that night?”

Sadie’s brow creased as she gave it some thought. “I don’t think so…he told the police he went upstairs after he heard the gunshot.”

“So nothing ever slipped out in conversation that would suggest otherwise?”

Sadie shook her head. “No. If you’re thinking Tommy did it, I can tell you that’s not true. The first thing I remember is him asking me if
I
had shot Walker. Why would he ask that if he had done it himself?”

“Really?” Brody’s interest was piqued. “There was nothing about that in the reports I read.”

“I never told anyone that.” She sipped her beer, losing herself in the bad memories. “I wish I
had
been able to shoot him, though. Instead I was helpless.”

“You were a kid.”

She shot him a dark look. “I could’ve fought back more than I did. I let myself become a victim.”

“No, the asshole that tried to rape you made you a victim,” Brody affirmed, anger coursing through him. Not at her, but at the fact that even dead, Lee Walker was causing her grief. “You don’t really blame yourself, do you?”

She sighed. “No, I don’t. I just wish I had done more. Then maybe I could’ve gotten help and no one would have shot him and this whole thing could’ve been avoided.”

“I’m sorry, but it didn’t play out that way.” He reached for her hand, knowing exactly how she felt. “You think I don’t relive what happened in Afghanistan in my head every single day, wishing I had made a different choice?”

Tears filled her eyes but didn’t fall. She nodded.

He continued. “We can’t control what happens to us, Sadie. But we can control how we deal with it.”

“You’re right.” She turned her palm up so she could lock her fingers with his. Their eyes met and she attempted a smile. “Thank you.”

He realized she was a hell of a lot tougher than he’d given her credit for. She had moments of fear that made her feel weak, but at the core of it, she was the strongest person he knew. “Not to quote Tommy again, but stay positive. You deserve a happy life.”

She squeezed his hand. “So do you.”

“Me? I gave up Heaven for Hell a long time ago.” His teeth flashed in a wicked grin that made her chuckle.

“I don’t believe that.”

“Ask my poor brother,” he mused. “He’s gotten nothing but a hard time from me.”

“I’m sure Chase still loves you.”

“For some reason, I think he still does.” He stared down at their joined hands, wondering why he hadn’t thought to let go yet. “He made me an uncle the other day.”

One of Sadie’s brows lifted. “Uncle Brody. That makes me feel old.”

“Tell me about it.”

She smiled before grabbing the television remote from the coffee table. “So, what do you want to watch?”

“Surprise me.” He sipped his beer with his free hand, enjoying the flash of humor that brightened her face.

“Cheesy girlie rom-com it is.”

AT SOME point during the movie, his arm had made its way around her and her head had come to rest comfortably on his shoulder. As the credits rolled, he could feel her breathing softly against him, fast asleep. A slow grin spread over his face as he looked down at her, taking in the view. One of her hands rested on his knee, like it belonged there.

It amazed him how quickly they’d fallen back into the old way of things. She’d accepted him back into her life with more faith than he deserved, but there he was. Cuddling with her on the couch in her father’s home, acting like the last eleven years had never happened. They’d only been friends before, but sitting there with her now made him hunger for something else. Something considerably more risky.

The thought should have alarmed him, but somehow it didn’t. It felt more natural than anything in the world. That alone was enough to have him wondering if he was getting in too deep, and too quickly. Falling for her wasn’t part of the plan. She deserved so much better than a disgraced journalist turned paparazzi who spent the majority of his time making celebrities like her into nothing more than trashy headlines. He’d never been ashamed of his job before, but diving back into Sadie’s life and seeing the view from her side troubled him.

He couldn’t deny he had this insane urge to protect her. She brought that out in people. Tess, Tommy, her brother. Everyone treated her like some fragile doll on the verge of shattering into a million pieces, and as a result she viewed herself in that same light. But underneath that porcelain was rock harder than should have been possible. She wouldn’t break. She might fracture in places when she fell, but there was glue keeping her together. Glue that she’d established up north, away from the bloodlust of the city.

Away from greedy reporters and parents who used her more than loved her.

He trailed his hand down the side of her arm, rousing her. Her eyes blinked sleepily awake, angling up to meet his own. The sweet smile that spread over her face had him itching to kiss her, instantly desperate for a taste of all that honeyed warmth.