Numbers Never Lie (Crimson Romance) (22 page)

They walked the horse down the hill away from the house and he felt the warmth of her back leaning against him, her hips moving gently with the equine’s gait.

“Henry?” He tightened his arms around her as they started up the steep trail toward his parents’ place.

“What, Trev?”

“Do you hate me?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Anything I can do to change that?”

“Probably not.”

“Okay then.” They rode in silence the remainder of the way up the trail. He watched her face as she looked back over her shoulder at the view. He could see she appreciated it almost as much as he did. Most people did. It was beautiful. The Texas Hill Country was one of the best kept secrets that he knew of. It was close to the big city attractions but had a slower, more comfortable pace. As they cleared the trees at the top of the trail, Sophie spoke.

“Are you going to tell them why I’m here?”

“What do you mean?”

“From the conversation earlier, I got the impression they thought we were, I don’t know, involved.”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, of course it does. That’s lying.”

“Is it?” He paused.
So that’s it, then.
“If it matters so much to you, tell them yourself.”

His mother rushed toward them. He admired how she’d kept her hair long all these years. Her olive skin remained in good condition, despite the addition of numerous smile lines around her eyes and mouth. His favorite thing about his mom, though, was the way she could make anyone feel at home. Dad always said she’d never met a stranger, and it was true. When someone met Lisa Prater, she made them feel like she’d known them all their life. Both of his parents were highly intelligent and successful in their careers, but more importantly they were just good people.

“Oh, I’m sooo glad you’re here.” she exclaimed as Trevan dismounted from Blackie. He lifted Sophie down next to him before tying the horse up to a post in the yard.

“Yeah, me too, Mom.” His voice choked as she squeezed him tightly around the neck. He wrapped an arm around her in return. “This is Sophie.” He laid his hand affectionately on Sophie’s arm. She didn’t pull away. From his mother’s vice-grip hold, he motioned with his head. “Lisa Prater.”

The door of the house flew open and his dad’s bulky dark frame hurried toward them. “She looks just as good with her clothes on,” he shouted in Spanish.

“Dad!” Trevan blurted. His temperature rose a notch or two and he shifted his eyes to gauge her reaction. “Watch your mouth. She speaks fluent Spanish.” Sophie stiffened and shot Trevan an angry scowl.

“Oh, sorry.” He looked at his feet as he held out his hand to introduce himself. “Hi. Robert Prater.”

“Sophie Henderson. Good to meet you, sir. And sorry about that display.” Sophie didn’t look him in the eye.

“
You
don’t need to be sorry.” Trevan couldn’t help showing his frustration. “He should mind his own business and stop being such a damn Peeping Tom.”

“Well then.” Trevan’s mom changed the subject. “Now that we know everybody, no pun intended, let’s go inside.”

Trevor noticed the buckskin horse leaning over the fence with its left foot lifted and resting on the right front hoof. “How’s old Goldie’s foot doing, Dad?”

Sophie followed his gaze to the tan colored horse with golden haunches and giggled.

Ah, there she is.
He smiled with satisfaction.

His dad cast a funny glance at Sophie before he answered. “She’s still favoring it a lot. Vet’s coming on Wednesday.”

Trevan was glad he’d been able to elicit a positive response from Sophie. He knew the horse was going to be fine. He’d looked at the hoof a couple weeks earlier and could tell it was on its way to mending. If Goldie were a person, she’d certainly be a hypochondriac. They often laughed about how the smallest scratch or bump would cause her to limp for days. That’s why they rarely rode her anymore. She preferred to take it easy. Very easy. And since she was getting older, his dad didn’t seem to mind. She had been a work horse on a much larger ranch when she came to them. She had already done her time and deserved a rest. Trevan always thought her smarter than the other horses, but maybe more experienced would be the better descriptor. She’d figured out how to get out of the strenuous work.

Inside, Sophie sat at the kitchen bar talking to his mom and he listened for a while before he realized he was kind of a third wheel. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and went out to stand by his dad in front of the grill. He could see in the kitchen easily from where he stood.

“She’s pretty, son.”

“Yeah,” Trevan admitted.

“More than pretty, really.”

“Yeah.” Trev didn’t say more. It wasn’t necessary.

“How long have you known her?”

“Not long.” Trevan didn’t want to go into the details. It was none of their business.

“How long are you planning on knowing her?” This was his way of asking intentions.

“As long as she’ll let me,” he answered with a shrug, “probably longer than she’d like me to.”

A loud burst of laughter came from the kitchen and he watched Sophie shoot a glance at him. His mom had tears in her eyes from whatever they were talking about. He assumed he was the butt of their joke. His mom loved to tell stories about him just to embarrass him. Normally, she’d wait till he was there to fully enjoy the humiliation.

A warm shiver ran through his shoulders as he watched them. It was good to see Sophie relaxing after all she’d dealt with today. It was also good to see Mom had taken such a liking to her.

An hour and a half later, Trevan lifted Sophie onto Blackie and once again slid up behind her on the horse. The sun was going down behind the trees. They’d need to hurry to get back down the hill before it was pitch dark. The horse could get them there regardless, but he didn’t want to take a chance meeting up with a stray coyote, skunk, or bobcat. The hills had a lot of wildlife that came out mostly at night. His parents had hugged both of them before they left and told them to come back when they had time. He didn’t tell them how long they were staying and he was glad they didn’t ask. He also didn’t tell them that Sophie probably wouldn’t be with him next time. The trail down was a little more comfortable than going up because Sophie had to lean back against him to balance and he was glad for that, even though she didn’t talk until they were almost to the house.

“Your parents are nice,” she said quietly.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“They’re pretty proud of you.”

“Where’d you get that from?”

“Just the way they talk about you, and to you.” He heard her sigh and leaned down to see her face in the shadows. She had an odd expression. One he hadn’t seen before.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I guess I just miss my mom a little. I’d forgotten how nice it was to talk to her.”

A twinge of sympathy hit him and he squeezed her gently, hugging her between his arms. Her hair was coming out of the knot on her neck and blowing against his face, tickling him. Two days ago, he would have smoothed it back and kissed her. Probably not a good idea right now. It pissed him off that he wanted to.

“Still hate me?” he asked, for no particular reason.

She hesitated a little then answered, “Yeah, pretty much.”

He waited a second, then spoke softly in her ear. “You hesitated.” When they reached the house, he lifted her off Blackie. “I’m gonna brush the horse down and put him the barn. Go on in. I’ll be back in a while.” He turned the horse and left.

When he returned, he started the wood in the fire pit, got four beers out of the fridge and walked down to the pool. He stripped and dove in, swimming the full length of the pool underwater before coming up. It was almost pitch dark now so no need to worry about witnesses. He swam to the other end quickly, his hands and arms gliding through the water. Two minutes later, he plopped with a towel around his waist in one of the chairs around the fire pit. His second beer was almost gone when Sophie opened the door of the girls’ room and came outside. He downed the remaining beer and twisted the cap on the third.

“Henry, do you know a guy named Bob Greenwood that worked at your company?”

Her eyes registered the name. “Yes. He died a few months ago in a car accident. Very sad.”

“Yep, that’s him.” Trevan took another long drink from the bottle in his hand and lifted it to look through it at the flames. He chose his next words carefully. “I’m going to tell you something confidential. If you repeat this to anyone, I’ll deny it and I’ll probably still get fired anyway but you need to understand why you’re here, with me.”

He brought the drink to his lips again briefly, then said, “Bob came to us twice the month before he died reporting possible fraudulent activity. The last time he called, we interviewed him. He had found basically the same thing you did. Only he asked around at work about it. He thought someone was following him. We thought he was a little paranoid but agreed to protect him while we did the investigation. He had a freak car accident the morning that he was supposed to meet with us to go into protective custody.”

Trevan finished the third beer in silence, letting his words sink in. “That’s when I started following you. When we started following you. Hate me or not, I’m not letting you out of my sight until we catch whoever’s doing this. There’s big money at stake and whoever’s involved — they don’t seem to care who gets hurt.” He picked up the last bottle and popped off the cap, holding it as he turned to Sophie. He watched the flames reflected in her eyes. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

She crossed arms in a hugging motion and rubbed the upper portion of each. “I understand. This is your job and you intend to make sure it gets done right, whatever it takes.”

“Damn right.” He tipped the bottle at her.

She looked into the darkness past the fire for a few seconds, then her eyes shifted down to her feet. “Did you really have to take it so far though?”

Trevan gulped another mouthful of beer. She acted like he intended everything to happen the way it did. As if he planned it out. He looked at her, amused she thought him that egocentric. In truth, he had never been attracted to anyone he watched. Ever. Until now. Once you see all their crazy habits and personal idiosyncrasies, it normally turns a person off, not to mention he usually watched men. He had to be honest with himself though. He’d been attracted to her — or at least curious — from day one. She was classier than anyone he’d ever known before — including his ex. She was also smart and funny, but even with that, she oozed sex appeal without trying. Nate had been right from the beginning. He was way out of his league, and it pissed him off that he had not kept it as clean as he should have. He should have been more prepared for Sophie Henderson.

He answered, “Did you have to be so
fucking beautiful
?” The anger in his voice was evident in the crisp tones of his words. He looked past the flames into the darkness of the hills on the other side of the creek. The wind gusted across his bare chest causing him to shiver, so he rose, holding the towel at his waist as he headed toward the Jacuzzi.

“I could say the same thing to you, Trev.”

His back muscles stiffened as he looked at her briefly. Jesus, she liked to screw with his head. He walked quickly away. Why the hell did she say
that
?

• • •

Somewhere around two
A.M.
, something woke him from his alcohol-enhanced slumber on the couch. He pulled up and looked around. Just before he settled on the sofa, he vaguely remembered watching her go back into his sister’s room while he was locking up and setting the alarm.

Trevan heard a ding from Sophie’s phone. She’d left it on the counter when she went to sleep. He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the screen, then smiled at the text messages.

Callie:
Hey sicko.. u gting any better? Ready to trade in Trev for a real doctor?

Another ding.

Callie:
I’ll take him if u don’t want him. Seriously, I need to talk to u. When r you coming back to work?

Third ding.

Callie:
Call me, dammit

He glanced at his watch.
Christ, the woman is a little clingy.
He considered answering back with a short blast but decided not to. Instead, he went to the room and opened the door to look in on Sophie. He stood in the doorway, his arm braced against the frame, admiring the way her hair fell over his sister’s pillow and tumbled across her shoulder. He muttered under his breath, then slipped down the hall to his room and got under the sheets.

An hour later, he was still awake lying on his back. No way in hell he was getting any sleep. He’d almost decided to get up and shower when the door opened quietly. Sophie’s silhouette stood there, hesitating.

She couldn’t sleep either, apparently. Knowing she was having as much trouble brought a mild sense of satisfaction. Trevan flipped back the covers leaving the space next to him open, the relief inside him was hidden but he was keenly aware of it. He lifted his arm and put his forearm over his eyes and waited. The rest was up to her. His chest burned when the bed moved from her weight and she eased close to him. He was in his briefs; the light breeze from the ceiling fan above the bed cooled his exposed skin. She slid against him, laying her hand where the warmth in his chest was burning and the coolness from the fan died. He remained still until her steady breathing signaled she had nodded off. He moved the arm from his eyes to her shoulder to get more comfortable.

She hated him. She pissed him off. But, he guessed, it would be easier to sleep when she was in the same room and he didn’t have to check on her every couple of hours. Surely sleep would come.

Except for the fact that every curve of her warm skin was now wrapped around him like a boa constrictor. Sleep? Not a chance.

Chapter Twenty

Sophie rolled over in the bed the next morning and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. He was up already and, judging by the smells coming from the other room, cooking breakfast. She stretched her arms over her head, pointing her toes and relishing the last few seconds of rest. Coffee. She smelled the pungent aroma. Her stomach grumbled in anticipation. She rose and walked barefoot into the kitchen without even taking the time to wash her face or tame the wild curls. “Something smells really good in here.” She plopped herself on a kitchen chair and watched as he pushed a cup of coffee in front of her, along with a plate of toast, eggs, and bacon. “You like to cook breakfast, don’t you?” she stated, recognizing that this was starting to become a pattern.