Trouble Walks In (3 page)

Maddy gave the wealthy young twosome the space she knew they wanted, loitering by the front door while they chatted quietly. Twelve other real estate agents had been through the massive apartment with their clients at last count, in addition to seven walk-ins. It had been a long and emotionally draining week, and there were about ten minutes left before she could go home and collapse.

Just as that thought rushed through her weary brain, the private elevator to the penthouse dinged. The doors slid open and a man stepped out. He was older, probably late fifties, good looking and distinguished in a Gordon Gekko way. He had Wall Street sleazeball written all over him and reeked of overcompensation. She'd be willing to bet he drove either a Porsche or Corvette—probably bright yellow.

Men like him dressed in expensive suits and carried themselves with shoulders back and head up, but the fear of discovery lingered behind their eyes. It was like at any moment someone might reveal them for the fraud that, deep down, they believed themselves to be.

Sucker or jaded bitch?
Maddy forced a smile and extended her hand.
This city has already done a number on me.

“Hello, I'm Maddy Morgan.” She shook his hand briefly as he moved into the large foyer. His gleaming, polished shoes clicked on the tumbled marble floor. “You made it to our open house just in time.”

“Thank you.” He didn't look at her but scanned the foyer as he continued toward the open living room. “Peter Gregory.”

“Did you have an opportunity to sign in at the front desk? The building's board insists upon it.” Maddy strode up next to him. “The security here is top notch, which is, of course, one of the selling points.”

“Of course.” He gave her a tight smile and nodded toward the window bank on the opposite wall. “May I have a look around? I've just begun the process of finding a new home, and this one seemed perfect on paper.”

“Absolutely.” Maddy folded her hands in front of her and glanced at the yuppies. Still whispering. “Then you know that this lovely home has four bedrooms and three-and-a-half baths. The kitchen is state of the art, and you have a private garden terrace off the master bedroom.”

“Yes. As I said, I've seen the listing.” He tilted his head and strolled across the room with an air of arrogance about him. “Thank you, Ms. Morgan. I'll just take a quick walk through. I realize the showing time is almost over, and I wouldn't want to throw anyone off schedule. My wife will be joining me in a few weeks, and if I don't have something decent to show her, she'll be quite perturbed with me.”

A wife?
That was surprising. Maddy had thought for sure this man was a bachelor.

“I see,” Maddy said as she scolded herself for jumping to conclusions. “Is there something in particular she's looking for?”

“I'll know it when I see it,” he said quietly. He held his hands behind his back and surveyed the space. “Finding a new home, knowing when it's the right one, is more of a feeling. It's not something one can put on paper. Wouldn't you agree?”

“Yes, absolutely.” Her lips lifted. She had definitely misread this man. “In fact, I couldn't agree more.”

“Well then. I'll be just a moment.”

“Take your time, Mr. Gregory.” Maddy meant it too. She may have been tired, but time was money. Besides, if he and his wife weren't already working with another real estate agent, she'd be more than happy to help them. “I'll be right here if you have any questions.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Morgan?” The young Mr. Bartholomew strode out of the kitchen with his wife's hand clasped tightly in his. Based on the excited twinkle in the pretty blond woman's eyes, she'd won the whisper war. “We'll be putting in an offer. We didn't officially sign the contract with you and Cosmopolitan Realty yet, but I'd like to rectify that immediately.”

“Absolutely. I know you had to rush out to another appointment after our last meeting.” Maddy smiled warmly. She pulled her card from her pocket and handed it to him. “This is my listing, and I'm happy to help you.”

“Thank you,” the young woman squealed with excitement. “I know you're not supposed to show how much you love a place, but I can't help it.”

“Believe me, I understand.” Maddy nodded. “I knew my apartment would be mine from the second I stepped through the front door. It just felt…”

“Like home?” Mrs. Bartholomew asked hopefully.

Referring to Maddy's apartment as
home
would be a major stretch. Nowhere in this huge, heartless city would ever be her home. Not really. Honestly, she'd begun to wonder if she'd ever feel at home anywhere again.

“You could say that.” Maddy smiled. “It felt
safe
.”

Yeah, safe for you to hide from your life and the rest of the world. Coward.

“Honey,” her husband said warningly. “We still have to go over a few things. I'm sure if Ms. Morgan gets any offers between now and nine o'clock tomorrow morning she'll let us know, so we can jump into the bidding. Right?”

“Definitely.”

Maddy showed the Bartholomews to the elevator and let out a weary laugh the instant the door slid closed with a dull thump. Their enthusiasm was refreshing—if not naive. They were first-time buyers and came from big-money families. Private schools and country clubs had been their playgrounds, and dropping several million on this apartment didn't seem like it would faze them in the least.

Really, though, what did Maddy know? They could have won the freaking lottery, or maybe the guy hit it big with some start-up company. At the end of the day, where they got their money didn't matter. It was none of her business, but that aside, she did like to speculate. It kept the process interesting and forced her to pay attention to details. Usually, the smallest detail gave the largest amount of information.

Like Ronan McGuire and the coffee, for example.

A smile curved her lips when she recalled the way he'd effortlessly ordered her coffee exactly the way she liked it. It might have seemed silly to some, but that small bit of knowledge showed his attentiveness. Her smile faltered, and she fished her phone out of the pocket of her suit jacket. In all the years she'd been with Rick, the man had never remembered how she liked her coffee. He got it wrong so often that it had become a running joke between them. Then again, he'd always had a rotten memory and had even forgotten her birthday a couple times.

Details hadn't been Rick's strength.

“Ms. Morgan?” The voice pulled her from her memories and Maddy spun around quickly, feeling foolish for drifting off like that. “Are you feeling alright?”

Mr. Gregory stood behind her and was peering at her as though he was worried she was going to faint or something.

“Yes,” Maddy said quickly.

“You're certain? Because my wife has been ill, and…well…she sometimes gets a faraway look on her face like the one you just had. It makes me worry.”

“I'm so sorry, Mr. Gregory.” Maddy's voice softened. “I hope she's on the mend.”

“As much as one can be after a few rounds of chemotherapy.” He dropped his gaze from hers and cleared his throat before turning his back to her. “I don't think she would truly love this penthouse, and given the circumstances, it must be exactly right.”

“Of course.” The broken tone of his voice tugged at her heartstrings. “If you decide to work with me, I promise you we'll find the perfect home for you and Mrs. Gregory.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“Yes and no.” He turned to face her again, his cool demeanor once again in place. “I saw what I needed to see. Since I'm just starting my search, I'd like to go look at some other spaces. Do you have time on your schedule this weekend?”

“Of course.” She squared her shoulders and grabbed a copy of the listing off the table before handing it to him. “I apologize. I should have given you this when you came in. The couple that just left said that they'll have a bid in by morning. No pressure, but I want you to have all the information you might need to make an informed choice.”

“I see.” He folded the paper lengthwise and slipped it inside his jacket pocket, and all the while his cool gaze remained pinned to hers. “I don't care for this particular apartment, so I'll want to see others. While I am not a man who normally makes decisions quickly, time is of the essence. For obvious reasons.”

“Understandable.” Maddy gathered the extra listing sheets into a folder. “If you're not already working with an agent, I'd be happy to help you.”

“I was but…it didn't work out.” He lifted one shoulder and waved his hand dismissively. “She wasn't a good fit. The woman seemed more concerned with her commission than finding me what I needed.”

“I'm sorry to hear that you had an unpleasant experience.”

“It's business,” he said flatly. “I want the best, and based on everything I've heard lately, that would be you. You came highly recommended.”

Maddy tightened her grip on the folder and held it against her chest.

“Really?”

“Yes.” He nodded curtly. “I'm new to the city. Until recently, I operated out of our company's Chicago offices. After my unpleasant experience with the other real estate agent, I was told by our CEO, Bill Weinstein, that you are the best in the business on every level.”

“I'll have to thank him for the kind recommendation.” Maddy's chest puffed a bit with pride. The Weinsteins were one of her best clients and had rented houses in Old Brookfield from her every summer for the past several years. They had been persnickety about their new home in the city, but she'd stuck with them and found them a fabulous duplex that met every one of their needs. No small task, to be sure.

“If you know Bill,” he said as a hint of a smile played at his lips, “then you know he's not one to pass out compliments easily. My wife, Helen, told me if I didn't take his advice I was a horse's ass.”

Maddy's brows lifted, and her reaction elicited a small smile from Mr. Gregory.

“Thirty-five years of marriage and one learns to listen to one's wife. Especially when she refers to one as an animal's backside.”

“Then I'll be sure I take the time to find out exactly what you're looking for.” Maddy's lips lifted. “Perhaps we could meet at my offices tomorrow or Sunday. Just let me know what's best for you. I like to meet with my clients first to find out exactly what they are looking for.”

She handed him her card, which he promptly slipped into his pocket without even looking at it.

“Sunday.” He strode past her to the elevator and hit the Down button. “Your office at noon.”

“Wonderful.” Maddy smiled. “I'll see you then.”

The door slid closed, and Maddy was left alone in the enormous apartment. She hoped that his
former
real estate agent wasn't anyone she knew. That could get awkward fast. This business was nothing if not cutthroat, but Maddy wasn't. Stealing clients was just plain wrong, and there was no way she would knowingly poach from another agent's list.

Gregory was uptight and bossy, but none of that mattered. Maddy had a new bee in her bonnet—finding a home for him and his ailing wife. Thirty-five years? Holy shit. That was a long damn time to be with one person.

She made quick work of shutting off all the lights and making sure everything was exactly as the owners had left it.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket as she stepped out of the elevator into the ornate lobby. She expected to see a voice mail or text from Brenda, explaining where she'd been.

But as Maddy glanced at the screen, a slow smile curved her lips. Her heartbeat picked up, along with a giddy fluttery feeling in her belly, making her feel like a swarm of butterflies had been let loose. Definitely
not
Brenda.

It was a text from Ronan.

Meet you in the park for our Saturday morning run tomorrow? By the Alice in Wonderland statue. 9 a.m. Be there or be square.

Maddy bit her lower lip and started to type back, but her thumb paused above the screen. It hovered there like an indecisive squirrel in the middle of the street, choosing whether or not to get run over by the oncoming car. If she continued meeting up with Ronan, eventually their platonic relationship would likely take a hefty turn toward lusty.

Would that be so bad?

Before she could talk herself out of it, she typed back.

Yes. See you then, and this time coffee is on me.

She went to put her phone back in her pocket, but Ronan, the speed texter, texted back immediately.

Good. You do know how I like it, don't you?

A wicked grin cracked Maddy's face because the message was brimming with sexual innuendo. Before she could come up with a witty response, he texted again.

My coffee…I was talking about my coffee…really ;)

A delicious shiver flickered and got her blood moving. How silly was it that a flirty text exchange could give her such a thrill? Maybe
pathetic
was a better word, but she didn't care. She was having too much fun, and it had been far too long since she'd had any. Maddy puffed a curly strand of hair away from her eyes and texted back.

Sure, McGuire. See you tmrw.

Smiling and filled with almost schoolgirl giddiness, Maddy tried to maintain her professional exterior. She collected the sign-in sheet from the front-desk bell captain and slipped it into her folder. Then she placed everything on the quilted bench by the desk and pulled on her wool coat, bracing herself for the dark, chilly night air. Her last message to Ronan was still on her screen, and without even thinking about it, she scooped up the phone and sent one more text.

And for the record, I bet I know exactly how you like it.

“Damn, it's cold.” Maddy's body had warmed during her run with Ronan, but she knew the minute that they stopped she'd be a shivering mess. “If it's this chilly now, what's it going to be like in February?”

“I'll take this over August.” Ronan chuckled. “There's nothing more brutal than New York City in the summer. We don't get the relief of an ocean breeze the way they do in Old Brookfield. Bowser overheats pretty easily; I have to carry extra water for the poor guy. And he slobbers a lot when he's hot.”

Bowser made a snort of derision, and Maddy couldn't help but smile at the agreeable floppy-eared dog as he ran next to them. Her curly ponytail was bouncing in unison with his tail, but only she and Ronan were there to see it. It was unusually quiet in the park today due to the overly chilly morning.

“I almost canceled,” Maddy said through huffing breaths. She glanced at Ronan, who kept up a steady jogging pace on her left. “The rain from last night turned parts of this path into a freaking mess. There are icy spots everywhere.”

“I figured it would be a rough run, but I knew you wouldn't cancel,” Ronan said with a hint of arrogance. Bowser ran at his side and occasionally tilted his snout to the sky. “That's not your style.”

She sent a sidelong glance at him, briefly catching a glimpse of his square, stubble-covered jaw. Jeez, he was handsome. Rugged and manly. All rough angles and edges that looked like they could be carved from stone. What was it about a manly man that could get a girl's motor running?

“Is that so?” Maddy laughed. “Why so confident?”

“Well, aside from the fact that you aren't a quitter…” He pointed to a spot of black ice. “Watch out.”

“I see it.” Moving around the spot, Maddy kept her gaze straight ahead, the familiar curve of the path less distracting than the man next to her. That, and falling on her ass in front of Ronan was not an appealing idea. “And no, I'm not a quitter, but I sense more comments coming. What is it? Come on, spit it out.”

They jogged quietly for a few strides, with only the sounds of their breathing filling the air. Maddy flicked her gaze to Ronan briefly when he didn't respond. A serious expression had set in on his handsome face, and muscles in his jaw flickered. Tension had settled where she'd expected to see humor, and his breath puffed out in white clouds when it mixed with the cold morning air. His broad, thick shoulders lifted and fell with the steady gait of his run. The man looked like he was about to erupt, but she wasn't sure why.

“Are you trying to come up with a witty retort, or did you forget the question?” she teased.

Ronan swore under his breath and slowed to a walk. Bowser instinctively matched his pace but it took Maddy a second or two to realize they'd fallen behind. She jogged in place and turned to find Ronan standing with his hands on his hips. His dark brows were knit together, and his mouth was set in a grim line.

“You're stubborn,” he said flatly.

“And?” She kept jogging in place but nodded her head toward the direction they'd been headed. “Come on, you can keep pointing out the obvious while we run. We're almost at the end of our route.”

“I mean it.” Ronan strode toward her, his breathing still heavy. “I need to talk to you about something. It's been nagging at me for a while, and I've been trying to figure out how to approach you about it without pissing you off.”

At six feet tall, he towered over her five-foot-four frame even when she donned heels, but when she wore only sneakers, he seemed positively huge. His tall, well-muscled body dwarfed her as he closed in on her, invading her personal space. Maddy stopped moving and held her ground, even though she wanted to run now more than ever.

Oh shit.

She knew what he wanted to talk about. The flirty text she'd sent him last night. Ugh. Why, oh why, had she done that? She was the one who shut down the possibility of anything more than friendship months ago. They'd always flirted a little; it was hard not to with a man like Ronan. But yesterday, she'd crossed some kind of invisible line.

When he didn't mention the text that morning, she'd figured it was for the best—even though she'd both dreaded and hoped he'd bring it up. But now it was time to face the music.

“Okay,” she said after swallowing the lump in her throat. Her heart was racing now, and that had nothing to do with the run. Nothing at all. “What's up?”

“You need to take better safety precautions when you're showing properties.”

Maddy's jaw dropped and she gaped at him. He might as well have suggested that next time, they should run through Central Park buck naked.

“What are you talking about?” She shook her head in an attempt to shake the stupid right out of her—or maybe it was the embarrassment. How could she have thought he was going to bring up the flirting? Damn it all. She was so out of her league. Dating. Men. Sex. She sucked at this whole single woman
thing
. She hadn't been on the market in so long that she had completely forgotten how to handle herself.

Not that she was on the market. Was she?

Thank God she hadn't
said
anything. That would have been totally humiliating. Her private mortification was more than enough.

“I'm talking about Lucille Bowman,” he said, his tone gentler. The tension eased from his face and sympathy filled his eyes. “You need to be more careful.”

“Oh, come on, McGuire,” Maddy scoffed. “What happened to Lucille was horrible, but it's not unheard of in this city. What? Because one real estate agent gets killed, now all of us are in danger? That's crazy.”

“See? Stubborn. Just like I said.”

“Not stubborn, experienced. Look—I've been doing this for years, and I've
never
had an incident. I know how to handle myself.”

“Is that so? Do you even know how to defend yourself?”

“Ask Billy Hollibrand,” Maddy said with a smirk.

“He was a kid, Maddy.” Ronan didn't flinch and his expression remained humorless. “The guy they're looking for isn't an awkward teenager with grabby hands. He's a killer.”

“This is nuts.” Maddy swiped at her sweaty forehead with her arm. “McGuire, you're being overprotective. Lucille was probably in the wrong place at the wrong time. Besides, women are far more likely to be accosted by someone they know. A boyfriend or a jealous husband—neither of which apply to me. Now, can we finish our run please?”

She turned to go, but Ronan linked his hand around her bicep, preventing her exit. Maddy stilled. She looked from his fingers—securely clamped over her arm—to his face. Clearly, his stubbornness matched hers, and they weren't going anywhere at the moment.

“It's not crazy, but I am being protective.” He kept his voice even but didn't let her go. “The detectives handling the case are almost certain that she knew the killer, at least well enough to go off with him peacefully. And given what she did for a living, odds are the perp could be connected through her job. All I'm asking is that you take precautions.”

“I have Mace in my purse,” Maddy said quickly. “Jordan and Gavin gave it to me as a twisted going-away gift before I moved here.”

“In your purse? Oh, that's great,” he said sarcastically.

Bowser started whining and shifting his weight restlessly. Ronan dropped her arm and gathered Bowser's leash around his palm, keeping the dog close. “I'm sure the guy who attacks you will give you a minute to find the Mace in that
suitcase
you carry around and try to pass off as a purse. You and I both know that it weighs about fifty pounds, and it takes you at least ten minutes to find anything in there.”

Maddy opened her mouth to argue but snapped it shut quickly. He was right. She was constantly losing shit in there.

“Fine,” she said quietly. “I'll give you that.”

Bowser whined again and sat down before sticking his big snout in the air again. He was obviously tuning in to their little tiff.

“Keep it in your pocket, at least. Someplace you can easily get to it.”

“Okay.” She folded her arms over her breasts in an attempt to calm her now-shivering body. “Anything else?”

“Have your phone out and ready to use if you need it. But above all, trust your gut.”

Ronan inched closer still and kept his voice low. He settled both hands on her shoulders and looked her square in the eyes. The heat of his palms seeped through the fabric of her running jacket surprisingly quickly, and Maddy had to stop herself from moving closer. Her gut instinct was to seek out more of him and his touch.

“If something or someone feels wrong, then you get the hell out of there. I don't care if you're meeting with a house full of nuns. If it feels wrong, then it probably is.”

He squeezed her arms gently, and that fluttery feeling in her stomach came swirling back like a storm. Maddy forced herself to focus on his words instead of the nearness of him. His scent, a heady mixture of sweat and soap, filled her head. She swallowed hard and nodded, but staring into his eyes, dark with concern, she had trouble finding words. Ronan's protective nature was one of his most appealing qualities. As an independent modern woman, she probably should have protested more, but his concern for her was sweet.

And he was
all
man.

“I-I care about you, Maddy,” he murmured, his voice quiet but rich with promise and purpose. “I don't want you to get hurt.”

Maddy sucked in another deep breath to clear her head, but it had the opposite effect. Damn, he smelled good. The cold air seemed to make his scent stand out even more. As Ronan leaned closer, the fabric of his running jacket brushed against her folded arms, and his glittering gaze skittered over her face. She licked her lower lip but couldn't look away. For a brief, terrifying, exhilarating second, she thought he was going to kiss her.

Ohmigod. I'm not ready for this.

“I got it.” Maddy abruptly stepped backward and out of his arms. “Mace in my pocket. Cell phone out. Trust my gut. Can we go now?”

She spun around and started jogging before he could answer her. Too bad she didn't look first, or she would have seen the thin layer of ice in her path. One second she was focused on getting distance between them, and the next she was flying through the air. A sharp pain shot through her left ankle, and she squeezed her eyes shut waiting for the inevitable impact. She would have landed flat on her ass if Ronan hadn't been there.

Instead of meeting the cold, hard pavement, Maddy was caught in the warm, firm, and unyielding embrace of Ronan McGuire. They were inches from the ground. Ronan's knee was bracing her body, and his arms were wrapped around her as though he'd just dipped her after an amazing dance. Pure unadulterated embarrassment kept her from moving, and the zing of lust from being pressed against him did little to slow her pounding heart. With her eyes still shut, her ankle throbbing, and her arms securely linked around Ronan's neck, it took Maddy a second before she could face him.

“I give you a ten on the dismount.” Ronan's teasing voice floated around her and warmed her, along with the feel of him. “But you need to work on your landing.”

She flicked her eyes open, and the second her gaze met his, any embarrassment melted away. Maddy burst into a hysterical fit of giggles and Ronan joined her, his body shaking with laughter as he helped her stand. But once she tried to put weight on her ankle, a fresh zing of pain shot up her leg.

“Shit,” she said with a hiss. When she put all her weight on her right foot again, Ronan instinctively slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her against him. “I twisted it pretty badly.”

“You aren't running on that anytime soon. Or walking, for that matter.”

“I'll be fine,” she said, not really believing it. At the moment, it freaking hurt. “Come on, let's go.”

Maddy started hobbling away, wanting to retain some dignity, but before she could get far, Ronan scooped her up in his arms. He cradled her against his chest, and as she linked her arms around his neck, Maddy caught a glimpse of that cocky smirk.

“I can walk on my own, Ronan.”

“No you can't.” He stopped walking and let out some of the slack on Bowser's leash. The dog was whining again and pulling away, toward the wooded area to the left of the path. “You're stubborn, just like I said before. Bowser thinks you should stop complaining too.”

“Right.” Maddy rolled her eyes but couldn't stifle the smile. “We aren't too far from the road. I can get a cab from there.”

“We,” Ronan said firmly. “
We
can get a cab from there. I'm taking you home and getting a closer look at that ankle.”

“You are persistent, aren't you?”

“You have no idea,” he murmured. Ronan's fingers dug into her leg. It was an almost imperceptible shift, but it carried a wallop. “We McGuire boys have what my mother calls ‘tunnel vision.' Although she says I have the worst case of it out of the five of us.”

“What does she mean?”

Maddy's own voice sounded far away because the sensations were beginning to drown out everything else. Her fingers drifted over the nape of his neck, the strands of his hair sifting tantalizingly between them. She swallowed hard and licked her lower lip as all of the words went out of her head.

Tunnels? Visions? What were they talking about?

It took her a moment to realize that Ronan had stopped walking. He held her tighter against him, and those eyes remained pinned to hers, the bluish-green conjuring up images of the ocean back home. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she fleetingly wondered if it would burst right out of her rib cage. Maddy stopped breathing when Ronan flicked his gaze to her mouth and then back again.

There was heat there and unmistakable desire, and Maddy burned beneath the weight of it.