Where There's Smoke (6 page)

She reveled in the advancement of his torso, which imposed on the entire surface of her front. Warmth radiated from him, making her curl into the welcome heat of his embrace. He separated them just enough to allow her to wind her arms around his neck when she wiggled then fused them even more completely, if such a thing were possible.

He fit her just right.

Tall, she’d sometimes had trouble finding a guy who could manage to make her feel dainty and feminine. Logan had no problem there. He towered over her, and consumed her with his presence. She clung to him, her thigh rubbing the outside of his hip as she practically climbed the trunk of his body. Anything to get at the honey and ginger taste of his lips, sweetened by the loose-leaf tea he’d sipped from one of Rose’s china cups earlier.

The memory of his huge hands cradling the delicate vessel ratcheted her desire higher. Just like he did for her when he grasped her leg at her knee. His fingers teased the underside, and trapped her against his hip. She hopped, wrapping her other leg high around his waist.

Both of them moaned when he fit himself to the juncture of her thighs, settling into the soft cradle she made for him. There they were entirely opposite, his cock so hard against her mound she wondered if it ached. Writhing against him served several purposes. Like rubbing the diamond tips of her breasts on his firm chest and soothing some of the restlessness pervading her. Mostly though, the action helped her snuggle as tight as possible to him, right where she had dreamt of being for so long that no other guy had lived up to her high expectations, established in one decade-old itty bitty kiss.

He sucked her tongue into his mouth, capturing the sensitive muscle then stroking it with his own. When he retreated, she nearly cried out. But only for a moment. Until he laid open-mouthed kisses at the corner of her lips, across her chin then in a meandering path along the exposed length of her neck as her head dropped back.

With a
thunk
it hit the wall of the closet, startling them both.

“Let’s take this somewhere a little more comfy? Somewhere we can stretch out.” He didn’t wait for her answer. Covering her mouth again in a drugging kiss, he kept her from warning him as he hauled her backward. The basket she’d set on the floor loomed behind him. She struggled, but he misinterpreted the message. He chuckled. “I know, Ky. Me too. Just a second. Promise.”

His unexpected sweetness made it twice as hard to bear when he tripped over their bounty. He cursed. With the reflexes of a cat, he twisted, taking the brunt of the impact on his shoulders. Though it had to hurt like hell, he didn’t flinch, making sure to shelter her from any residual force. Their heads knocked together. Other than that and their pride, they appeared unscathed.

“Jesus.” Logan banded his arms around her and rolled. From her new angle, beneath him, she spied the basket teetering precariously. Sure enough, it toppled. With a crash, the fireproof box tumbled to the floor and papers spilled out everywhere.

“What the fuck just happened here?” The dazed confusion in his bedroom eyes had her feeling a tad bit smug.

“I think we almost made it to second base but got tagged out.” She winked.

A strangled laugh fell from his sexy smile. “Right. I got that part. Damn lockbox.”

“Very secure too.” Kyana wriggled from beneath Logan’s heavy, though not uncomfortable, frame. She inspected the case, which had divulged all its contents. “I suppose that’s what happens when you leave the key in the damn lock.”

“Figures.” Logan shook his head. “I’m surprised Ben didn’t have the papers stuffed in a shoebox under the bed. That’s what I would have done.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure he did.” She dredged up a hazy memory. “But Aunt Rose bought him the fireproof box for Christmas one year, then guilted him into using it so it wouldn’t go to waste.”

“Brilliant. Man, I miss her.” He reached for Kyana’s hand, interlacing their fingers. “I’m so sorry. I should have been here. For both of you.”

“I understand, Logan-kun.” She raised his knuckles to her lips and dusted a kiss over them. “Rose did too. She told me to tell you she loves you. And that she’s proud of the man you turned out to be.”

“She did?” His whole body tensed and his eyes glistened.

“Of course.” Kyana tugged him to her and nestled into his open arms. “You were like the son she never had. She bragged about you to anyone who would listen.”

“Damn. That’s…nice.” He cleared his throat.

She granted him a bit of privacy, angling away so she could shuffle through the documents littering the closet floor. The insurance policy was easy to spot. Thick folded papers from Salem Mutual had dog-eared corners and a distinctly yellow cast. After plucking them from the wreckage, the rest of the stationery caught her attention.

Finely written cursive swirled over botanical prints. Dozens of letters had been protected from the blaze along with the deed to Ben’s house and the title to his car.

“What are those?” Logan peeked over her shoulder as she ran one fingertip across the fine linens.

“Looks like Rose’s handwriting. They must have been pen pals for a while. Maybe when Ben took the third shift as a security guard at the oven factory. He always claimed to be bored silly. I remember my great-aunt saying she hated him being gone so much. They really were close friends.” Kyana sighed. “I think she once even offered to pay off Ben’s house so he wouldn’t have to work so hard.”

“Like he’d have gone for that!” Logan looked horrified.

“Some things are more important than money, don’t you think?” She tilted her head. “Like relationships? You can’t buy them.”

“Are you saying…? I mean, do you think Rose and Ben…?” He waved his hands adorably in the space between them as his eyes grew wide.

“Actually, no. I don’t.” She shook her head slowly. “But I
have
often wondered if they might have been more to each other if given the chance.”

The instant denial she’d sort of expected didn’t materialize. Logan weighed her opinion before shooting it down. He always did. “You know, I think you might be right. Ben never brought women around, though I know he took lovers from time to time. They would call sometimes. He never really dated them though. Never invited them here. I always thought that was odd, but not if he cared for Rose. It sort of makes sense if he didn’t want to rub her face in it.”

Kyana concentrated on rewrapping the bundle of letters with the pretty lilac ribbon that’d fallen off them. She didn’t look up when she said, “It would have killed her to see him with someone else.”

“Not something she should have worried about.” Logan wrapped his hand around hers on the package. “Ben would never have hurt her like that.”

And somehow Kyana knew his great-nephew wouldn’t be so crass either. Thank God. She’d claw out the eyes of any woman he brought to their home.

“Ky, before you finish that bow, I think there’s another piece of paper under the lid.” He deflected them from the awkward stream of conversation.

She reached in the direction he indicated. Instantly, she felt the difference. This rough stock had nothing in common with Rose’s refined parchment. Squinting, she examined the typed document.

If she hadn’t been a lawyer, the thing might as well have been penned in Martian. As it was, the age of the contract made the verbiage difficult to discern. Not to mention property law wasn’t her specialty. Good thing she had a friend in the business. She was going to need some help.

“What’s that frown for?” Logan encroached on her space.

She didn’t mind. “Sorry. This is some kind of title addendum stipulating conditional sale clauses.”

“Come again?” He scratched his head.

“Unless I was really distracted, we haven’t gotten there yet.”

“Ha ha. No, seriously. Tell me what it means? In English. Simple terms for a simple guy.”

“Quit that. You’re plenty smart. It says Ben took a discount on the sale of the house that gave the builder options to buy back certain easement rights. For up to fifty years. I’m not sure I get all the nuances, but something like if the house wasn’t standing, they could reclaim the land.” A knot of unease lodged in her guts.

“What’s the date on that thing?” Logan seemed to jump to the same conclusions.

“Fifty and a half years ago. Give or take a month.”

“Wouldn’t that mean it was null and void?” He looked to her.

“Probably. Yeah.” She shrugged. “But who knows how accurate someone might be if they thought they knew what was in here. It’d be easy to flub something by a few months after all this time, right?”

The both scrambled to their feet.

Logan clutched her wrist even as he looked over their shoulders. Where Kyana had felt entirely secure a moment ago, hairs on her neck rose and goose bumps pimpled her flesh. “We’re getting the hell out of here. Hand me the box and stay behind me. Close.”

There was no use arguing when he made up his mind. “I know somebody who can help. I’ll scan this and email it over to him right away.”

“Sounds like a plan.” They were breathing hard for an entirely different reason when they emerged into the gray haze of dusk.

Kyana was glad for Logan’s strong grip on her hand when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and skidded to a stop. He halted with her, spinning until he faced the offender that inspired her pulse to speed like a racecar driver heading for the checkered flag.

Daryl Thick.

“Jesus,” Logan muttered under his breath as his hackles fell into place and the instant alertness of his body relaxed.

The ex-military man ran a hand through his buzz cut and flashed them a quick salute before jogging toward his house with a few glances thrown over his ripped shoulder. It might be easy to dismiss his presence as a man out for an evening stroll, if he hadn’t popped up from behind Ben’s hedge like Rambo’s pet gopher.

“What do you think he was doing in there?” she whispered to Logan.

“No fucking clue.” He shrugged. “We can discuss it inside. Where it’s safe. Let’s go.”

She leaned against his side when he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and tugged her impossibly near. “Won’t hear me arguing. Besides, I want to know what Ben has to say about this stupid contract.”

“You and me both, Kyana-chan.”

Chapter Four

Kyana, both relieved and oddly disappointed, stared at the email glowing on her screen. It had taken almost a week for her friend to completely vet the option clause on Ben’s house. The good news… Logan had gotten it correct. No matter what crazy agreement the man had signed to afford his dream home, it was irrelevant today. The expiration date had passed without the rights being exercised. The house and the land belonged to Logan’s great-uncle free and clear.

So why had the fire investigator’s report shown hints of arson? Ben swore he never used candles, yet there had been one set unwisely close to the curtains Rose had sewn as a birthday gift for him back in the seventies. The hideous polyester had gone up like a match, destroying one of Ben’s prized possessions along with kindling the blaze. He insisted he only kept the pillars on hand for emergencies. So who had known where he stashed them, retrieved one and lit the damn thing? And why?

In addition to all that, Kyana wished she could hash things out with Logan. He’d spent every waking minute working on the house since the release had come through the morning after their close call in the closet. Hell, she’d hardly seen him in days. No wonder her insomnia had returned full force. Without him to cuddle up to, the darkness summoned all sorts of demons to torture her awake. And when he finally stumbled in—exhausted—each night, he barely managed to undress and shower before falling into a near coma.

She’d offered to play his assistant. He’d refused, probably since she’d upheld her end of the stupid bargain by fronting cash and drafting a work agreement. Or maybe because he regretted their momentary lapse of decorum between Ben’s flannel shirts.

All she knew for sure was that from her window she had a world-class view of him going to town on his great-uncle’s kitchen—sans shirt of course. An unseasonable heat wave had crept up on the heels of their mild winter, spiking the temperature into the lower nineties several days in a row. The hot spell coincided with the demolition phase of the project, providing ample opportunity to showcase Logan’s sweaty muscles, which glistened as they flexed beneath the strain of his efforts.

Fancy molding around the window dug into Kyana’s hip as she leaned against the casing. With the lights off, she’d moved aside the lace curtains for a clear view of her obsession. How healthy could this be? Next she’d be sharing the hedge with Daryl for a better perspective.

Hopefully Logan would smile instead of cringing when she took them down memory lane. At this point she’d rather know where they stood than hanging around wondering any longer. Making a clean break would be tough the more time she spent near him. This was what she wanted, and she wasn’t about to wait for him this go around.

Hoping her initiative went over as well tonight as it had the other day, she grasped the metal cylinder tighter between her shaking fingers. With her thumb, she slid the switch. A dull red glow emanated from the end of the flashlight, mostly covered by her hand.

She grinned despite the stuttering of her heartbeat as she remembered all the nights they’d sent messages across the canyon between their great-aunt and uncle’s houses. Kids who texted on cell phones or messaged on iStuff or posted on Facebook wouldn’t know what they were missing.