A Simple Twist of Fate (12 page)

That wasn’t possible. At least not after Beck read through the victim statements and letters begging for help after Charlie’s scams ruined everything. But claims and stories so awful they ripped a hole through him were not the same thing as a chain of evidence. “I’m trying to deal with facts and not emotions.”

“Is that what you advise lawyers in these legal aid offices to do for their clients?”

This time Declan skipped the lawyer joke, but Beck felt the body blow just the same. “How exactly did this become all about me and my profession?”

Declan tapped the envelope. “You’re the one who wants to open this.”

Want was too weak a word. Beck had almost shredded the thing earlier. Anything to get in there, regardless of how pissed off Callen would be.

But Beck knew he would never have been able to follow through with it. Bottom line: the secret in that envelope didn’t belong to him. He needed to know about it so he could fix it, or at least weigh it as part of the overall picture he had of Charlie. No matter the excuses and the good reasons, Beck would never betray Callen that way.

Which left argument, harassing and asking as his best course for seeing what was inside. “Fine, I’ll pretend it’s not there.”

Declan shook his head. “Knowing you, I doubt it.”

Chapter Twelve

Sophie hung around at Shadow Hill fifteen minutes longer than she intended. Even now she stood half in the hallway and half in the kitchen doorway, straining to hear what was happening behind the closed doors to the television room.

She had a lunch date with Leah and her friend Mallory. Sophie kind of dreaded the girl time . . . and also kind of loved the idea of it. Each day at the house, Leah included Sophie in more family discussions. It left her twitchy and uncertain, and had her peeking around corners before entering a room, but there were parts of it Sophie loved. That sense of belonging, the idea of talking freely and knowing you were accepted. It was so refreshing and welcoming that she’d been smiling all morning.

Then there was the fact if Sophie failed to show up for lunch Leah would send out a posse. Sophie had no idea how a regular citizen could get a contempt hearing but Leah would figure out a way. She was clever like that.

The raised voices in the closed-off room had died down. When the doors rolled opened and Declan popped out, she shrank back into the kitchen and pretended she’d been in there working the whole time.

Seconds ticked by but Beck didn’t come out. Just Declan, and he jogged up the stairs instead of staying on the main floor.

The house stayed quiet and Beck still didn’t appear. The internal war in Sophie’s brain over looking for Beck versus getting out of there fast battled loud enough to crush every other intelligent thought.

A few more minutes passed. She knew because she watched each one tick by on the kitchen clock. Heard the beats in her head.

Stupidity won.

She tiptoed down the hall and stopped in the half-opened doorway. It didn’t take more than a second to find Beck. He stood with his palms tucked into his back jeans pockets as he stared out the French doors to the lawn and gray sky rolling by overhead.

She cleared her throat to keep from startling him. “You okay?”

“Sure.” He didn’t jump. Didn’t even turn around.

“Well, now I know you’re not.”

This time he glanced at her over his shoulder. “Care to explain that?”

“You’re not really a one-word-answer kind of guy.”

He blew out a long breath as he stared up at the beamed ceiling. “Do me a favor and refrain from the lawyer jokes. I need an hour moratorium from that bullshit.”

Okay, yeah. Something weird had occurred in this room. He’d returned to the curt responses he’d treated her to in her first days on the property.

She had no idea how to respond, so she went for neutral. “Seems like a little enough thing to ask.”

“My brothers might disagree.”

Ah, well now that sounded interesting
.
“That closed-door talk didn’t go well, did it?”

Beck made a slow turn to face her. “Excuse me?”

From the dead eyes to the pale face, his body telegraphed a flashing “keep out” sign. She’d wandered in there to check on him and he struck her as a guy who wanted to seethe in silence.

Her timing sucked . . . as usual.

She waved her hand as she took backward baby steps toward the door. “Forget I said anything. Not my business.”

“Stop.”

Her back smacked against the wall and the hit vibrated to her toes. So much for her sense of direction. She couldn’t even hit a wide-open doorway without checking behind her. “Now that sounds more like you.”

“That was still only one word.”

“A very loud word.” She held her hands wide apart to make her point.

“I owe you an apology.”

“No, it’s your house.” And she clearly was overstepping. “Besides, I get you’re not angry with me. Well, not this time.”

He stood up. “Sophie—”

Something about seeing him stretched to full height reminded her of their explosive kiss. The way his body wrapped around hers. The way he left.

There, that memory snapped her out of it.

A few blinks and her resolve slapped right back into place. “Though you should feel free to stop yelling at me.”

With each step he took across the room the color returned to his face and a smile curved his mouth. “I’m not even talking about this conversation.”

Well, crap
. “Oh.”

“We have some unfinished business.”

“You’re regretting the kiss then?” The words ripped from her but she plastered on a fake smile.

He froze in mid-step. “No way in hell I’m sorry about that.”

Relief whipped through her as quickly as the pain had. “That makes two of us.”

The walk . . . no, make that stalking, continued until he loomed over her again and their feet touched. She had the room’s wall behind her and a wall of Beck in front. This close, her breathing hitched in her chest and she had to ball her hands into fists to keep from reaching out to test her memory on how flat his stomach really was.

“I mean the bathroom scene a few days ago. I came to your house the other night about the locker-room talk but left before I could apologize. That’s not my usual style, to go too far like that, and I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Well, wasn’t that pretty.
Shame it was misplaced. “We’re fine.”

“Are we?”

“I figured that scene was some kind of push-the-help test.”

His gaze searched her face. “You know what I said about you being the help.”

“Just a test then.” She didn’t even know what she was saying. Her brain screamed to touch him and her body was in full support of that fine plan.

“Right, because whatever was happening between us in that bathroom couldn’t possibly have been real.” His fingers went into her hair, brushing it back off her shoulder and threading through to the ends.

The room spun. “I’m not sure how to answer that in light of the kiss.”

“You could try honestly.” The backs of his fingers skimmed her cheek.

“You’re in an odd mood today.” And she couldn’t get her heartbeat to stop galloping.

“I’m talking about being naked and scaring you.”

Forget the spinning and running. This was a rollercoaster ride. Her stomach dipped and bounced. “You are determined to talk about this, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

“You absolutely didn’t.” Did he really not understand that she repeated the scene in her mind just so she wouldn’t forget exactly what he looked like? “Didn’t scare me either, and if you took a second and looked in the mirror you’d understand what I’m saying. You’re not exactly hard on the eyes.”

“That’s good to know.” He trailed his thumb over her lips.

Her whole body shook until whatever was whipping around in her stomach grew even larger. “But if you ask me about my penis knowledge, I’m going to throw you over the upstairs railing.”

“Wouldn’t blame you a bit.” That thumb pressed back and forth. “But, so we’re clear, my penis is available for your use and viewing at any time.”

“That’s quite an offer.”

“And here’s another.” His gaze lingered on her lips. “I know Leah was sitting there yesterday, but I meant what I said. I’d like you to join us for dinner, maybe spend more time together when you’re not working around here.”

“Callen will—”

“Be okay with it. He barks but he’s not a total jerk. It’s a weird overprotectiveness. You just need to ride it out.”

“If you say so.”

Beck’s fingers traveled down her neck. “And if you want to start with just us, going out like regular humans tend to do, I will find a place we can eat away from family.”

Sophie wanted to take all those words in, believe them and light them with meaning. But a hard stop lay ahead. They’d been down this road in the library and he was the one who slammed on the brakes. “We’re having a mixed message problem.”

His smile widened and that hot little dimple made an appearance. “You mean I am.”

Yeah, this was a good time to stop. She didn’t have time and she had no idea what to do with all the thoughts and emotions bombarding her. Nothing made sense. She needed to pull it all apart and think it through, including Tom’s advice to just spill the truth.

She put her palm over Beck’s long fingers and stopped her mind from wandering to what he could do with them. “Since I don’t want to fight and because I actually have somewhere I have to go, I’m going to think about what you said and head out.”

His frown wiped out everything else. “You’re not going to be here all day?”

“Actually, no.”

“That’s unusual.”

She hoped he viewed that as a good thing. “You getting used to having me around?”

“Will you get all prickly if I say yes?”

She had to fight the urge to throw her hands in the air and dance around in victory. Might be a bit obvious. “No.”

“Then yes. I like having you here.”

She slipped her fingers through his and lowered their joint hands until they hung between them. “I’d stay but there’s this girls’ lunch this afternoon.”

He blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“With Leah.”

The blinking gave way to a dropped mouth and chin pushed forward. When he finally ran through an entire male what-are-you-talking-about look of shock, he spit some words out. “You’re hanging out with Leah?”

“Does that make you nervous?” Sophie chuckled at the thought. The guy had been in a courtroom and argued in front of juries. The idea of him getting jumpy over her eating with Leah, well, that was just about the most hysterical thing ever.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, everyone keeps telling me about your big brain, so I’ll let you think on it and figure out your position. Then we can talk about meals and what that would mean.” She gave his hand a final squeeze then let go.

“You sure you want to wait on that part?”

Not even a little
. “This lunch invitation was unexpected, but we both know Leah will hunt me down if I don’t show.”

He exhaled. “Neither one of us would hear the end of it.”

“Exactly.”

His gaze dipped and heat moved into his eyes. “But right now I’m trying to figure out if I care or if I want to risk Leah’s wrath.”

“Whatever is happening here can wait until tomorrow.” Before Sophie could change her mind or come to her senses and climb all over the man, she started to turn.

Beck’s voice stopped her. “Sophie? Is that really what you focus on when you think about me? My big brain?”

It was practiced and careful, and after a few weeks of dealing with him, she knew that meant her answer mattered. “You’re assuming after basically being shot down in the library that I think about you on my off time.”

He held up a hand and gave her a nod. “Fair enough.”

For a smart guy he was missing all the cues, so she spelled it out. “For the record, when I
dream
about you—”

“Do you?”

“All the time, and I’m never thinking about your brain.”

Chapter Thirteen

Sophie stood on the Main Street sidewalk and glanced across the road. Artwork and all kinds of homemade goodies from pillows to picture frames filled the one purple cloth-draped window of Gossamer, Mallory’s store. It was one of those places where people went to talk over a cup of coffee as well as learn something.

She offered painting and photography classes. She held workshops in a wide range of subjects, all dealing with creativity. Sophie had none. That didn’t mean she couldn’t admire the skill and the homey atmosphere of the place.

From a few feet away she could peek in the open window and study the sitting area with its overstuffed couches. The brightly lit inside showed off the long table down the center and walls of papers and notebooks and some things Sophie couldn’t even identify from that distance. Likely not from up close either.

But she could name two of the women sitting inside. Leah, and Mallory, with her straight black hair and oversized sweater. No one looked better in tights, a short skirt and motorcycle boots than Mallory. All the bulky tops in the world couldn’t hide those cheekbones. The clothing matched her look and the look said “individual and fine with it.”

Sophie smiled at the mix of light and dark between the two friends. Leah so pale she glowed and Mallory dressed as a hot biker chick. They made quite a team. Also made Sophie long for a mirror and a brush . . . maybe some lipstick. Any woman would get a complex when faced with the joint comparison of these two.

But enough of the dip in the low self-esteem end of the pool. Time to see what Leah’s idea of a friendly girl lunch entailed. She’d been nice, supportive even, but this could be a very different game today. They were out of the house and away from the guys. She could throw down the
“stay away from them”
warning and then Sophie didn’t know what she’d do.

Sophie pushed on the door and heard the bell jingle above her head. Two older ladies sitting on the couches, bent over and arguing about something the one was knitting, looked up and smiled at her.

This part of small-town living made Sophie smile back. Something about the knowing everyone, saying hello to everyone, thing filled her with an unexpected warmth. Growing up with the knowledge that anyone could be snatched away in only the flash of time it took from one second to pass to another, she learned to shut off and hold back. It wasn’t until she came to Sweetwater that she ran headfirst into new things. Like lock picking and house searching . . . and trying to seduce hotties in the library.

She steeled her mind for what was to come, potential ego hit and all. When the other women looked up, Sophie waved. “Hello.”

“There she is. On time and everything.” Leah stood up and a smile spread across her mouth. “I’m happy you came.”

Mallory’s eyebrow rose. “As if you gave her a choice.”

“That is beside the point.” Leah waved Sophie forward.

Somehow she made her feet work. Could have had something to do with the eight white food containers spread over the table. The store smelled like a Chinese food restaurant and it kind of looked like one, too.

“I know we’ve passed each other at the big house and grocery store and all the other cool single ladies places in town, but here is the formal introduction.” She held out her hand. “I’m Mallory Able.”

Sophie took in the welcoming warmth, letting it envelope her and wash away her biggest worries about being double-teamed right as she crossed the threshold. After all, Leah protected the Hanovers, and if she saw Sophie as a threat, Sophie knew that would mean her last day at Shadow Hill. “Nice to meet you.”

Leah clapped. “That was so pretty.”

“Is she like this at home?” Mallory asked as she sat down and passed plastic plates around.

Sophie had no idea how to answer. The panic about how to say the right thing, or worse, spitting out the wrong thing, kept her stomach jumping around. “Uh . . .”

“Stop terrorizing our new friend.” Leah gestured to the seat next to her. “Have a seat.”

New friend
? Sophie tamped down on the excitement those simple words sent spiraling through her. The whole greeting could be subterfuge or a way to pump her for information, but right now, sitting there listening to the twinkling sounds as she rolled the fork and chopsticks around in her fingers, Sophie wanted to believe.

Rather than funnel all the pent-up energy inside her into a babbling conversation, she tried to play it cool. “Okay.”

“And you think I’m the scary one?” Mallory opened three of the food containers. “You have poor Sophie giving us one-word answers. We promise to behave.”

“Mostly,” Leah mumbled.

Mallory stood up as the older women from the couches shuffled toward the door. “Leaving, ladies?”

“Your food is making us hungry. We’ll be back for the one o’clock class,” the older one said as she waved and they walked out the door.

Sophie used the distraction to peek into the open lids and saw shrimp and rice and something that could be chicken in a brown sauce. The smell had her ready to dive in. “Wow.”

“Crazy, right?” Leah opened the rest of the containers. “Since you almost never eat, we weren’t a hundred percent sure what you liked.”

“So we got one of everything, thinking we could split the leftovers.” Mallory used her chopsticks to dump fried rice on her plate. “I should have worn elastic-waist pants today.”

Leah laughed. “Otherwise known as comfy pants.”

They were so at ease, the conversation so normal and everything about them genuine. The tension across Sophie’s shoulders unclenched. “I’m guessing you guys have known each other a long time.”

“White rice or fried?” Leah held up both and handed the white to Sophie when she pointed. “Since college.”

“I told her to stay away from Johnny Caldoon, because that guy had a will-drop-crap-in-your-drink look about him, and she thanked me by bringing me to Sweetwater with her.”

Leah snorted. “She loves it here. Except for the lack of eligible men.”

As they ate, Mallory made face as she reached for another container. “Men are overrated.”

This time Leah let out a double snort. “Since when?”

“Well, not all of us live in a house packed full of them, right, Sophie?”

They went back and forth, the conversation bouncing around with Sophie smiling as she tried to keep up and eat at the same time. “The ones Leah lives with can be a bit . . . intense.”

“By that she means loud and nosy and filthy, and when it comes to Declan I am not just talking about his work clothes.” Leah highlighted the comment by wiggling her eyebrows.

Thinking this counted as a safe topic, at least up until that last part, Sophie waded in. “And they eat every two seconds. Of course, I should talk since I’m shoveling Chinese food in my face as fast as possible.”

“If a big diet is what it takes for them to look like that, I’d hook them up to sandwich machines or something.”

With that Sophie loosened the last of her defenses. Sounded like she and Mallory were on the exact same page when it came to the Hanover brothers and the whole tall-dark-and-handsome-on-hyperdrive thing they had going on. “Beck is the egg king.”

Mallory’s head popped up. “Is that code for something?”

“His diet. I think that’s all he can make.” And bacon. Sophie could not forget that bacon.

The containers continued to make the rounds until plates were filled and Mallory collected them all in the middle of the table. “Are we sure he’s not lazy? Because Declan jokes about him not helping out with the rehab, though I do not know how Beck would get that body being lazy.”

“Sophie?” Leah held a forkful of rice. “Any thoughts on that?”

“Don’t put her on the spot.”

Sophie appreciated Mallory’s quick response. “Thank you.”

Then Mallory ruined it by jumping in. “So, did you kiss him yet?”

Sophie waited for her usual Beck-related anxiety ball to ping around in her belly, but it didn’t happen. The banter didn’t make her want to separate or clam up. She wanted to join in the fun. “Not you, too.”

“Are you kidding? We’ve been taking secrets bets on you guys getting together since . . .” Mallory closed one eye as if she were trying to remember. Then she shrugged and glanced at Leah. “When did we start?”

“From the first time I was at Shadow Hill and saw Beck look at her.”

Now they’d really hit on a topic Sophie wanted to explore. Well, if
they
talked. She wasn’t ready to speak up and divulge the whole
he-turned-her-down
thing. “Wait, what?”

“When was that?” Mallory asked.

“Right after Declan and I took the plunge.”

Mallory’s fork stopped midway to her mouth. “Is that a sex reference?”

Sophie choked over the forkful of shrimp she just swallowed. Laughing while eating did that to a person. She waved Leah off when she started to get up, looking ready to give a whacking backslap, if needed.

“Nice job, babe. You’re embarrassing Sophie.”

Sophie kept waving her hand as she dried the unspent tears from her eyes. “I’m good.”

Mallory sighed. “Well, you sound terrible.”

“But Beck can sure talk.”

Sophie heard Leah’s conversation pivot and knew it was coming right back at her. The near-choking scene only bought her a second or two. These ladies were determined to talk about Beck. Sophie knew that was a bad idea, yet . . . he did happen to be her favorite topic.

“I hear talking keeps the mouth limber for kissing.” Mallory held up a hand. “Not that I have experience with Beck. He’s clearly all yours. “

No way was Sophie falling for that. “If you say so.”

“Not taking the bait?” When Sophie shook her head, Mallory frowned. “That’s a shame.”

“I thought I’d do more listening than talking.”

“Fine, but next lunch, you’re up.” Leah let out a long, dramatic sigh. “We can’t be expected to do all the work every time.”

Mallory glanced at the door and did a double take. “Uh-oh.”

Sophie panicked that all the Beck talk conjured him up. The heat rushed to her cheeks at the thought. “What’s wrong?”

“Walker Reeves.”

Seeing Leah’s frown and hearing the flat tone of her voice had Sophie shifting in her seat. “That FBI guy?”

Mallory smoothed a hand over her long hair. “Looks like the hottie is back in town.”

The word shot through Sophie. She watched the guy walk down the sidewalk. Brown hair and a trim build. With the dark suit and determined walk, he headed right for the front door, never breaking his stride.

Something in his walk and the way he held himself reminded her of Callen. Like, if you gave Callen a shave and threw a suit on him. Probably had something to do with emotionless expression. Callen had perfected that look.

But that didn’t explain Mallory’s comment. Sophie stared at her. “Hottie?”

Leah slowly lowered her chopsticks and shoved her plate closer to the center of the table. “I know, right? Mallory clearly has a thing for the buttoned-up look.”

“You know he’s naughty under those black suits.”

He reached for the door and the bell above him dinged.

As far as Sophie knew, he qualified as Hanover Enemy Number One. Probably even higher on the list than Leah’s father. “He hates the Hanovers.”

“You sound like Leah.”

Leah reached out a hand and touched Sophie’s arm. “In this instance, my dear friend doesn’t mean that as a compliment.”

“Callen isn’t exactly my biggest fan, but this Reeves guy is trying to . . . well, I’m not sure what,” Sophie said in a whisper as the man in question started toward them. “But I know all three of the brothers swear when they talk about Reeves.”

Mallory wiped her mouth on her napkin, speaking mostly into it. “Everyone needs to lighten up, except Agent Hottie. I like him tight.”

When Sophie started to say something, Leah cut her off with a shake of the head. But her focus stayed on their guest. “Don’t try to figure it out.”

The click of his dress shoes stopped when he came to a halt at the end of the table. “Ladies.”

“You want to paint a mug?” Mallory asked.

The agent scanned the table, his gaze stopping on the pile of food and lingering for an extra second on Mallory. “No.”

For some reason, Sophie didn’t like that at all. She wanted him away from Mallory in case he was as menacing as his presence suggested. “I think she was kidding.”

“Sophie Clarke, right?” Reeves took up a familiar stance, legs apart and hands linked in front of him.

The Hanovers all used that position when having a serious conversation. Maybe all men did. It could be the universal time-for-guy-talk signal for all she knew. “Uh-huh.”

“And you work at the Hanover residence.”

Last thing she wanted was a cross-examination. “I don’t think—”

Mallory stood up and leveled the guy with a finger point complete with sparkly black polish. “I’ve warned you about this before.”

“What?”

She held her hand out in the general direction of the front door. “Swaggering in here—”

“Swaggering?”

“—and asking questions. My customers don’t like it and neither do I.”

Sophie’s attention bounced between them, fascinated how each word seemed to be code for something else. An energy crackled as they bickered.

Good grief, Mallory really does like the FBI guy.

The corner of his mouth tipped up, if only for a second. “There aren’t any customers here.”

Leah knocked on the table. “Uh, hello?”

Mallory snapped her fingers until he looked at her again. “When did you get back to town?”

So much for a blank expression. He was all in now, staring at Mallory with his gaze doing more than a little wandering. “How do you know I was gone?”

“Good question.” Sophie thought it but Leah said it.

After a few seconds of the most awkward staring contest ever, Mallory looked away. She ran a hand over her sweater, smoothing the edges down before she sat. “A thousand people live here and you’re the only one with a great love for black suits, well, you and the undertaker, so you being gone was kind of obvious.”

“I had to go to Washington for a few weeks.”

“But you’re back now?” Leah asked, sounding not too happy about the idea.