Brett sat next to me at the kitchen table, sipping coffee. His eyes were dimmed, making me suspect that I wasn’t the only one who had endured a restless night. Seeming to overcompensate, he flirted with Betty and Mae. He was shameless, and they loved it. Both ladies, in their early eighties, giggled as Brett waggled his eyebrows at them, telling them how he wouldn’t be able to resist such beautiful and ageless women.
A skilled liar. I’d have to remember that. Suddenly I was reminded of the late-night text, but I shoved it back out. It was such a silly thing to worry about. I’d show the text to Brett later and we’d get a laugh from it.
Truly, the ladies were sweet, but beautiful and ageless they were not. Their personalities made up for what nature had never bestowed.
“You are such a tease, Brett,” Betty said. Her gray eyes sparkled behind her black horn-rimmed spectacles, which weighed heavily on her round nose.
“He’s always been a tease,” Mae said, looking over at me. Her smile curled around her long, pointed nose. “You have your hands full with this one.”
“Not if I steal him,” Betty tittered.
“How do you all know each other?” I asked. At first I had thought they were relatives, possibly aunts. But I doubted aunts would look so smitten with their nephew. At least I hoped not.
“We’ve been neighbors for thirty years,” Betty said.
“Until a couple of years ago,” Mae added.
“We moved into a senior community,” Betty explained.
“We saw Brett nearly every day when he was younger,” Mae said, a fond smile on her face. “He had a ferocious appetite.”
Betty nodded. “Came over and ate every cookie and brownie in the house.”
Brett grinned. “I ate double at their house, especially on meatloaf night.”
Lil gasped and turned from the counter where she was stirring lemonade. “I thought you liked meatloaf.”
Brett sipped his coffee, eyeing his mom and delaying his response. “I liked cookies and brownies better. You can’t blame a kid for working the angles.”
Lil tsked and swatted him with a dishtowel.
As soon as she turned back to the lemonade, Brett leaned over to me and whispered, “If she makes meatloaf while you’re here, feign a stomachache. I’ll smuggle you some dinner.”
Rand opened the sliding glass door and entered the kitchen. Brett’s jaw immediately clenched. Straightening in his chair, he draped a possessive arm around me.
Rand’s hard gaze scanned the room, taking in the visitors and settling on me. He didn’t like me. And, from the way a chill clawed through me every time his eyes caught mine, the feeling was mutual.
“Oh, Rand,” Lil said, fluttering to his side. “Sit down and have a cup of coffee. I’m afraid you already missed the coffee cake.” She shot an accusing glance at Brett. “But I could make you something if you’re hungry.”
He didn’t sit. “Where’s Mike?”
“He already left for the day.”
Rand nodded. “Then I’ll head out.”
“Take some coffee with you,” Lil urged, opening the cupboard to find a travel mug.
He turned on his heel and left.
“Never did like that boy,” Betty muttered once he was out of view.
“Don’t be too hard on him,” Lil said, closing the cupboard. “You know he’s had it rough.”
“The divorce left him bitter,” Mae said.
“Everyone has it rough now and then,” Betty grumbled. “It’s how you treat others that matters. Take Brett, for instance. He might be sore about Emily, but did that turn him into an angry, bitter man?” Betty shook her head. “Nope. That Rand has had a chip on his shoulder from day one. And it’s growing.”
Emily?
I snuck a peek over at Brett, who had tensed at her name. His arm, still around my shoulder, weighed heavily.
Who was Emily? How was it that I love a man I know hardly anything about? Was it a superficial love, or something instinctively natural?
It didn’t look like I was going to find anything out about Emily. Seeing Brett’s reaction, they clammed up and looked everywhere except at Brett and me.
And I didn’t want to pry.
Well, not yet. But soon.
* * *
It was afternoon by the time Betty and Mae left, still chattering as they walked to their car.
“I’m exhausted,” Lil said, leaning against the door. “I love those two, but they could run circles around an athlete.” She stretched and walked to the staircase. “If you two don’t mind, I think I’ll take a nap before I start supper.”
“We’ll be fine,” Brett insisted with a little too much enthusiasm.
Lil paused on the stairs. “No neckin’.”
“Promise.”
One glance at her son’s devilish grin had her shaking her head. “Just remember the walls are thin, and I still have that fly swatter.”
His grin grew wider. And as soon as Lil was out of view, I found myself backed up against the wall, bracketed by Brett’s firm arms.
“God, Mars. I’ve been going crazy not being able to kiss you.”
I had planned to ask about Emily, but once Brett’s lips were on mine, Emily was pushed back to the past. At least I hoped it was the past.
“Come home with me,” he murmured against my neck.
I nodded and felt his responding grin. He took my hand and led me out the door to his car.
“I’ll be glad when this is over with,” he said. “I can’t wait to have you all to myself.”
A prickle of concern nearly stalled my footsteps. When this was over, what would happen? I lived in Wisconsin, and Brett lived in Texas. Would he move? Would I move? Or would we be condemned to a long-distance relationship?
“What’s wrong?” he asked, opening the car door for me. “You have that worry wrinkle again.”
“Nothing,” I said. I couldn’t tell him my concerns. Not yet. It didn’t seem like a proper time to have this discussion. Once the trial was over and everyone could breathe a little easier, then I’d ask about his plans.
And about Emily.
And the text.
“I know it’s not nothing. Tell me.”
“Let’s talk later,” I said, nudging him over so I could sit in the car.
He stopped me. “I don’t want this looming over us. Is it about what you heard? About Emily?”
It wasn’t what I had been thinking about, but I did want to know. He took my silence as an affirmative.
“Mars, she was a girlfriend from a long time ago. She did bruise my ego, but if you’ll notice, it’s back in place.”
“Maybe even larger,” I teased. “But Betty seemed to think she broke your heart. Did you love her?”
He twisted his mouth in thought. I wondered if he was trying to come up with an edited version of his feelings, and I was okay with that. I really didn’t want to know every sappy detail. “It was complicated, and I was young. It took me a long time to get over what happened.”
“What happened?”
“She ran off with Rand.”
I gasped. “Is that why you don’t like each other?”
“We’ve never liked each other. But, yes, it didn’t help matters. She was only eighteen when she took off with him. But he was after her long before then.”
“Did they get married?” I gasped again. “Was she your sister-in-law?”
“Unfortunately for everyone, yes.”
“That had to be awkward at family gatherings.”
“You have no idea. It’s why it took me so long to shake her off. She was always around.”
“How much older is Rand?”
“He’s seven years older than her. But when you’re that young, seven years can seem like a lifetime. I guess not so for Emily.”
“I’m sorry.”
He cupped my chin as he leaned in for a kiss. “Don’t be. If I had Emily weighing me down, I never would’ve met you.” His lips were feather light against mine. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“That’s good, because I’m going to push you into the car now and drive like a madman until we get home.”
“I’ll make it easy for you,” I said, sliding into the car.
We weren’t far from Brett’s apartment when my phone vibrated. I nervously slid it out of my pocket, not knowing what message might lurk. But it was only a text from Mrs. Janowski—though it proved to be more unsettling.
“What’s wrong?” Brett asked, noticing my frown.
“This text from Mrs. J. doesn’t make sense.”
“Read it to me.”
“Thank you for the box. I’ll open it up after nunchuck lessons.”
“Nunchuck lessons?” Brett choked, fear lacing his voice.
I had that same fear, but that’s not what had me at a loss. “I didn’t send her a box.”
“Ask her to read the return address again. Maybe she didn’t have her glasses on.”
I texted Mrs. Janowski and waited for her response. When there wasn’t a reply, I assumed she was in class or on the road. I’d have to ask her about her new hobby as well. But, as it was, Brett had pulled into his garage and was already out the door.
I found myself whisked up to his bedroom and deposited on the bed. I laughed as he kicked off his shoes, nearly toppling over a lamp.
“You wouldn’t happen to be in a hurry, would you?” I teased as he launched into bed next to me.
“I might be. I almost had you last night,” he said.
“Are you going to try again tonight?”
He opened his mouth hesitantly, as if he was searching for the right words. None came out.
“You don’t have to,” I said quickly. “I was just curious whether to leave the window open.”
“Um, no. I can’t tonight. Sorry, sweet thing.”
I wanted to ask why he couldn’t, but it would seem too . . . wifely, I guess. But, seriously, why couldn’t he?
He must have read my thoughts, because he said, “T and I are working on a project.”
“Oh,” I said, happily and curiously. “What kind of project?”
“Nothing interesting, especially not as interesting as what I’m going to do to you right now.”
Evading the question? “Just tell me a little bit.”
He leaned in, kissing my neck, which would have normally been enough to silence me. But not now. I was sensing something I couldn’t name.
Seeing that I wasn’t affected by his kiss, he frowned. “It’s really not that big of a deal. It’s just boring, routine paperwork. We can talk about it later, if you want. I’d just rather use this time for us.”
“There’s no reason to hurry. We have hours before we’re expected back.”
“And I’m going to use every minute.”
My phone chose to oink-ring at that moment, and if not for Brett’s lightning-fast reflexes, I would have tossed it onto the floor, ignoring it. At least for a while.
“I’m putting it on silent,” he said.
“That’s fine, but tell me who called.”
“Brandy.”
“It could be an emergency,” I said, sitting up to reach for the phone.
“An emergency?”
“She’s in charge of Mrs. J. and Hank.”
Brett sighed and returned the phone. He crumpled to the bed in defeat. I glanced at the phone and then back at him. It probably wasn’t an emergency. I was just being paranoid. Mrs. Janowski had already said she was heading to class. She’d be too busy to get into trouble. Unless she knocked herself out.
“Are you going to answer it?” Brett peered up at me.
“It went to voicemail,” I said, holding the silent phone. “I was just thinking, what could possibly be wrong? And then I remembered Mrs. J.’s class.”
Brett nodded. “I understand. But I also wonder what help you could provide from here.”
I shrugged. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. But Brett always managed to help when he was away. And he was right next to me, all six feet of him. And I was making him practice patience. Patience that neither one of us had much of. I would pester him about work later. It’s not like I had to know the details. I was just curious, and my nerves— combined with an active imagination—put me a bit on edge.
“I know exactly what to do if someone needs help,” I said.
“And what is that?”
“Ask for it.” My fingers lazily drifted along his bicep. Brett would help whether I asked for it or not.
His gaze heated. “Might cost you.” His mouth curved into a smile.
“Do you think T would charge?” I asked innocently.
Before I could take back my words, I found myself pinned beneath Brett. His lips seeking the ticklish spot on my neck.
“I was teasing!” I said with a laugh.
“Now it’s my turn.”
Before he could torment me further, the phone beeped with Brandy’s voicemail.
“Go ahead,” he said, not bothering to move. The slight tug at the corner of his mouth challenged me to argue. I touched the voicemail button, turning it on speaker since there was no easy way to bring the phone to my ear with Brett’s bulk blocking me at every angle.
“Hi Mars,” Brandy said. “Your box seems to be leaking. And . . . well, it’s rather gross and smelly. I don’t know what to do. There’s something not right with it. I think it might be blood. Call me back as soon as you get this message. Please hurry.”