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Authors: Helenkay Dimon

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: A Simple Twist of Fate
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“My brothers would tell you I can’t help it.” He welcomed the slight bite against his skin and the flash in her eyes as she willed him to listen.

“We should stay away from each other.”

“To be more effective, you might want to let go of him while you say that.” The male voice boomed right into Beck’s ear.

He didn’t have to glance over to know who’d stepped up to ruin this party. “Declan. Fucking fantastic. Any chance you could disappear?”

“No, stay.” She almost screamed the request. She also pushed away from Beck as if his arm had burst into flames.

Beck thought that was more dramatic than necessary.

Declan stopped in front of Sophie. He looked at Beck then to Sophie then started the cycle again. “You two okay out here?”

Beck nodded. “Yes.”

“No,” she said at the same time.

Declan didn’t even try to swallow his smile. “Well, that clears it up.”

Yeah, Declan was enjoying this way too much for Beck’s liking. “Shouldn’t you be following Leah around like a demented puppy?”

“Thank you for that image.” Declan finished off the comment with a wink.

Something about the gesture made Sophie jump. She blinked and started moving. Looked a second away from breaking into a full-on sprint. “I should go.”

“You’re spending a lot of time running away from me lately.”

Beck’s comment caught Sophie on her second step and had her stumbling. “That’s not true.”

“Anyone want to fill me in on what’s happening here?” Declan asked.

She waved them both off as she executed the perfect dodge around the swing set and headed for the back porch. With one last glance over her shoulder, she shot Beck a glance somewhere between stunned confusion and blame. “I’ll be back tomorrow to take care of the kitchen.”

Birds chirped and leaves rustled as the warm wind blew through the towering trees outlining the backyard following Sophie’s great escape. Only the humans stayed quiet. This far from the road you couldn’t hear road noise, but Beck decided the whooshing of blood in his head could be blocking it.

“You scared her off.” Declan stood in the middle of the grassy area and watched Sophie go.

Beck thought his brother was taking a bit too long staring. “I’m pretty sure you jumping out of nowhere did that.”

When he turned around, Declan’s face consisted mostly of a smart-ass smirk. “Here’s a thought: maybe you could actually ask her out and stop this sad display of male misfiring.”

Beck spent hours each day thinking about exactly that. The rest of the time, he crafted argument after argument on why it could never happen. “She’s our employee.”

“Really? That’s your excuse for striking out?”

“There was an incident earlier today.” One he had to apologize for and never repeat . . . at least not in front of one of his idiot brothers.

“What kind?”

“I’m sure Callen will fill you in.” Beck could almost hear the conversation now. “Until then I need your help.”

This was the good part. Call it younger-brother revenge or whatever, but Beck wanted to savor each word.

Declan flashed a smile. “With women?”

Shithead
. “No.”

“You sure?”

Clearly a reminder was in order. Funny how Declan now played the role of sure, sophisticated boyfriend and wise middle brother when a month ago he could barely put two brain cells together when Leah was in the room. “Don’t make me give you crap about how Cal and I had to convince you to get your head out of your ass and not let Leah leave you.”

Declan smacked his lips together as he shook his head. “That’s not how I remember it.”

“Of course not.”

“Do you really want my help with Sophie?”

“Hell, no.” Beck went in for the smirk-killing attack. “But someone should check in on the skunks.”

All signs of amusement faded from Declan’s face. “I vote you.”

“I’m in charge of legal.” Beck put his hand against his chest then reached out and shoved against Declan’s. “You’re in charge of housing.”

“Since when?”

“You’re the one who insisted we keep the house.”

“I wanted the house to get to the girl. Leah loved the house. I love her. It was simple math.” Declan set out each point as if solving an equation.

“Yeah, well, you get the skunks, too.”

Chapter Five

Sophie opened the door to her temporary studio apartment and sighed. Taking in the familiar sights and smells, the tension ran out of her body. Actually raced down her limbs until she waited for it to drip on the floor.

Something about the cozy space made the rest of her life make sense, if only for the few hours a day when she was there. Today she didn’t even mind trudging up the fifteen steps to her place above the garage or her upcoming date with a “chicken fiesta” frozen dinner.

Going several rounds with the Hanover brothers had sucked the life out of her. Skunks, seeing Beck naked . . . yeah, it had been a full day.

At least she wouldn’t have to pretend in bed tonight. She knew
exactly
what he looked like, down to the scar high on his upper thigh. Thinking about Beck had her glancing at the unmade bed to her right. Her housekeeping skills really did suck.

She judged the distance to the kitchen on the far wall and decided that was about ten steps too far. The walk would take too much energy, and she had none right now. Dumping her bag on the fluffy round area rug, she headed for the small love seat in front of her and threw her body across the puffy pillows in a not-so-ladylike sprawl. She debated propping up her feet on the table and hunting down the television remote but went with closing her eyes instead.

When the knocking started a second later her body jackknifed into a sitting position. The frantic beat of her heart knocked around in her brain. After all, she knew about six people in this town and not one of them showed up at her house unannounced. Well, one but he had a hot date and should be on it.

Dreading what could be lurking on the other side of the door, she got up with a groan. One guy selling magazines or a dude offering a new security system and a shove down those stairs could happen.

A peek in the peephole and her heartbeat turned to a wild bounce. The kind that promised a heart attack.

He
stood out there, bracing his hands on either side of the door and staring forward as if he could see her from that side. He looked at home and in control. Strong and just-out-of-bed sexy.

She stood up on tiptoe and smashed her forehead against the door. From this angle she could . . . yep, Beck wore pants. She guessed that was a plus, though she wasn’t sure how.

After a rushed finger comb through her hair and a few puffing breaths to get her heart rate back in the normal range, she opened the door. Since her stomach bounced all around at the sight of him standing there she tried treating him to cool disinterest. “How do you know where I live?”

He pushed away from the doorframe and showed off all six feet of his total hotness. “Not the warmest welcome I’ve ever gotten.”

Pushing him down the stairs was not an option, even though it might snap the gooey spell that wrapped around her whenever he showed up. The same one she fought back against with sarcasm and more than a bit of dodging whenever he walked into a room.

“I’m serious, Beck.”

His eyebrow lifted. “May I come in first?”

On the list of bad ideas this was way up there, but between the mist of rain and the dimple he kept flashing, she didn’t stand a chance. She wasn’t heartless, but the immunity she hoped to acquire against him hadn’t sparked to life yet. “For a minute.”

“You don’t have to make it sound like I’m giving you a quiz.” He wiped his feet on the mat and stepped inside.

“Is that the plan?” Because he seemed like the type to have one ready.

“No.”

Water drops clung to his navy blue jacket, highlighting those impressive shoulders. His damp hair brought the memories rushing back. Rip his clothes off and this would be a rerun of this morning.

As if she needed a reminder.

She backed up until her butt hit the side of the sofa. When she stumbled her gaze went to the bed and the white sheets and . . . yeah, he needed to leave before she tackled him and did something
really
stupid.

“You were going to explain how you found me,” she said, ignoring the way her voice broke like a boy going through puberty.

Beck stopped in the middle of taking off the damp jacket. “About a thousand people live in Sweetwater and most everyone knows everyone’s business, so it wasn’t hard to track you down.”

“I know your family. That’s about it.” And that was only a slight exaggeration.

“You shop at Schneider’s Grocery.”

She balanced her hands on the couch behind her, digging her fingers into the cotton upholstery. “You’re asking about me around town?”

She didn’t know whether to be thrilled or furious. The pinging in her chest suggested the former but she knew anything that tied them together would end badly. Them as a “them” was a very bad idea. She had to find her aunt’s property and get out of town. That meant deceiving Beck and his brothers and lying . . . and she hated all of it. There sure was no way to combine the deception with sex. No matter how much she wanted Beck.

He sighed, putting a load of male attitude behind it. “You think I’m hanging out at bars and on street corners talking about you?”

Well, not when he put it that way. “Um . . .”

He scoffed. Even gave her a women-are-so-tiresome half eye roll. “Yeah, because the Hanovers are so welcome around here that it’s easy for me to walk up to people and start talking.”

The man had a point. The town’s hatred had died down to a whispered simmer, but there were those who hated the brothers just based on their name. Add in a mysterious woman coming in and out of town searching for Callen—Kristin something—and an FBI agent who kept asking questions, and some days the vibe at Shadow Hill bordered on cautious rather than comfortable.

Still, Beck did pop up on her doorstep and wasn’t exactly offering a logical explanation. “But you said—”

“I was guessing about the groceries.” He glanced to the right and did a double take. His gaze traveled over the bed and lingered there.

“Uh, Beck?” She waved a hand in front of his face.

He shook his head. Wiped his mouth. Did the whole guy-stuttering thing before he choked out a real sentence. “You gave Declan your contact information in case of emergencies. I used the expert detective skill of looking at the note he pinned to the bulletin board in the library.”

Before Sophie could respond or even silently berate Declan, movement behind Beck’s shoulder grabbed her attention. She’d somehow gone from alone to a room full of partially rained-on men. That should be a good thing, but not really. “Tom?”

Beck lowered his head and stared at her. “What the hell? You’ve forgotten my name in the last two seconds?”

Tom stepped inside, holding an oversized pizza box and smiling like a loon. “I think she means me.”

More company.

Fantastic
.

Beck’s mouth dropped open as he spun around. Tension thrummed off of him, spilling through the room. “Who the hell are you?”

Her eyes widened at the sharp crack of his voice. So much for the guy who always had a reasonable, even if long-winded, temperament.

She touched his arm and tried to drag him back around to face her. When that didn’t work, she shifted until she stood between them with a hand on both men.

Her gaze stayed on the less rational one, and with some surprise she realized that was Beck. “What’s wrong with you?”

Tom being Tom, he smiled, taking it all in and staying calm. “Tom Erikson.”

Beck’s arms crossed over his chest. “And that means?”

Testosterone pounded on her from every angle. Much more of this and they would all suffocate.

“I answered your question,” Tom said.

Tom, tall with silver-tinged blond hair and a rough voice that made her feel safe. They bonded the second he agreed to give her a month-to-month rental for almost nothing. He functioned as sounding board and mentor. He’d become a friend. He looked years younger than he was and he should be on a date with the hostess from the restaurant they went to last weekend, which made Sophie wonder why he was standing in her house holding food.

Beck shifted. It was as if his body swelled to twice its size. She knew that was some sort of optical illusion or result of the madness chewing away at her brain, but still.

“Are you her father, uncle or just a guy passing by with a pizza?” he asked.

Tom’s amused expression slipped that time. “Did you say father?”

Okay, enough of this
. “He’s my landlord.”

Beck blinked. “What?”

“I pay him rent.” Barely, but telling Beck that part would only lead to a long list of questions she didn’t want to answer.

His eyes narrowed and his head snapped back as if she’d smacked him, which was starting to be a distinct possibility. “Really?”

“Yes, Beck. Really.”

His gaze went to the box then Tom before returning to her. “And he brings you dinner.”

Not ever. “Apparently.”

This—whatever “this” was—made her stomach clench. She wasn’t expecting either man tonight and had a very different reaction to seeing each. But right now, a little alone time wouldn’t be a terrible thing. Not for the headache thumping in her brain, but maybe to help her figure out why Tom showed up and why Beck cared so much when he usually spent his time scowling at her.

“For the record, he brings food when he’s worried she’s going to eat another frozen dinner.” Tom pivoted around them and headed for the kitchen.

He acted as if he hung out there all the time, which wasn’t true. But he did own the place. He’d built it out from a storage area into a rentable space. And thank goodness he did or she’d be living in her car. Her aunt sent her to San Diego, then Chicago, before Sweetwater, in search of the jewelry, but she wasn’t exactly paying expenses. That left Sophie to handle the extra burden in addition to being on unpaid leave from her job now that she’d run through all her paid leave.

She looked up at Beck, trying to think of something intelligent to say. Her brain cells continued to ping as she scrambled to deal with the turn her expected quiet night had taken.

Before she could put a coherent sentence together, Beck nodded at her. “Clearly I should have called first.”

“You can stay. There’s plenty.” The laughter returned to Tom’s voice as he opened the box.

“I’ll pass.” Beck didn’t look at her as he grabbed his coat and reached for the doorknob. “Have a good night.”

The words, delivered in a flat tone, sliced through her. Whatever he came to say, whatever he wanted, he walked out without it. She didn’t know what it meant but she did know the cause. All six-feet-three of him. She gathered the last wisps of energy inside her and readied for the showdown.

Slamming the door, she faced Tom. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

He poured a glass of water. “So, that’s Beck Hanover.”

Family friend or not, Tom was two seconds from getting his dinner dumped over his head. Didn’t matter the food with the mix of melted cheese and toasted onions smelled so good her mouth watered. She needed answers.

“You know it is.” She walked over and stopped across the counter from Tom. “Any reason in particular you were poking at Beck?”

“I promised your aunt I’d watch over you.”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“And I’m forty-seven, but I still promised. My friendship with your aunt goes back a long way.” Tom searched opened cabinet doors and let them bang shut again. He slid two plates on the counter. “We managed to shock him, which from the town reports is not easy to do to a Hanover.”

She wanted to fight but she settled for sliding onto one of the bar stools. “Don’t tell me you’re in the camp that thinks Beck is a con man like his dad.”

She grabbed a piece of pizza. Amazing what a round of verbal sparring could do for her energy levels. Made her wide-awake and hungry.

“I don’t have a position either way,” Tom said.

“Come on.”

“I don’t know the sons.” Tom eyed Sophie over the top of his glass. “Except for the way you talk about them.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Sophie mumbled around the piece of pizza in her mouth.

“Take it however you want.”

Her hunger vanished again. She dropped the slice and shoved the plate away to make room for her elbows on the counter. “You’re being cryptic.”

And it made her nervous. Tom wrestled with bouts of guilt over Aunt Angela and her relationship with Charlie Hanover, but Tom wasn’t playing hide-and-seek games now. This felt much more like chaperoning a date, though she didn’t think that was possible. Not with his protective streak. Heck, she wouldn’t have been surprised to find out Tom saw Beck coming up the apartment steps and faked a joint pizza dinner to check Beck out.

“You talk about the Hanovers, this young one especially.” Tom slipped a second piece out of the box and stacked it on his plate. “A lot.”

“I work for them.”

“I was being subtle, but let me be clearer.” Tom took his time wiping his hands on a napkin. “I’m referring to Beck, and you talk about him almost non-stop. Beck did this and that.”

“You’re exaggerating.” And scaring her a little. The idea of being that transparent had her stomach spinning and her wishing she hadn’t taken even those few bites of pizza.

“With the running commentary on the guy’s life, it didn’t take a great amount of investigative work to figure out you had feelings for him.”

“That’s not true.” Other than a normal any-woman-with-a-pulse-would-notice-his-hotness thing, it couldn’t be true.

Sure, she thought about Beck all the time. Had since the first minute she’d met him. He stood there being annoying and judgmental and questioning her about her right to be at Shadow Hill, which was fair but she couldn’t admit that, and with every word he uttered her stomach tumbled. His voice, that face, those shoulders, even the tendency to argue
about everything
made her body do a little dance.

Tom shrugged. “If you say you don’t care about him, I’ll believe you.”

Yeah, that was annoying
. “What’s with the pizza dinner?”

“I was walking up the driveway, saw the door open and thought I’d share.”

“But you had a date tonight.”

His smile fell. “Paulette decided to go back to her ex.”

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