A Reason to Believe (27 page)

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Authors: Diana Copland

BOOK: A Reason to Believe
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wonderful, and he took a bite. Instantly, he closed

his eyes in bliss.

“Good?”

“Mmm-hmm. Really good.”

Kiernan seemed very pleased with himself as

they ate their meal. Matt finished a sandwich and

watched in amusement as Kiernan ate two, three

pickle spears and drank two cups of coffee.

“You’ll never sleep tonight,” he said as Kiernan

drained his second cup.

“Caffeine doesn’t affect me at all.” He wiped

his lips with a paper towel.

“Do calories?” Matt drawled. “Because you eat

more than just about anyone I’ve ever seen.”

Kiernan

grinned.

“I

have

this

weird

metabolism,” he said, taking the dishes to the sink.

“Aidan says I can eat like this because I’m as

hyperactive as a ferret.” Matt smirked at the apt

description. “I’ve always been able to eat pretty

much whatever I want without a problem.”

Matt eyed the trim body with appreciation.

“Yeah, we’ll see if that lasts past thirty.” He

leaned back in his chair, bemused, as Kiernan

loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the

counters. “You’re well trained,” he finally

commented when Kiernan hung the dishrag over

the faucet.

“Aidan made sure of it. Said she might be stuck

being a mother figure, but she wasn’t going to

clean up after me like one.” He nodded toward the

living room purposefully. “So, now we’re rested

and fed, we need to go over the guest list, right?

Focus on the men, pinpointing the ones who can

afford a collectible Rolex.”

Matt nodded. “I just don’t know enough about

the upper crust to tell you. I’m a cop. Not exactly

in the same income bracket. I don’t pay attention to

the society pages.” He paused, his lips pursed

thoughtfully. “But I do know someone who does.”

He stood and crossed to the telephone and punched

in a number, his eyes on Kiernan’s avid face.

It rang three times before it was answered.

“What?” the woman said, sounding irritated.

“Nice,” Matt teased. “Very pleasant. Kyle try to

set the cat on fire again?” Kiernan laughed.

“No. Your brother is being an ass.”

“Same old, same old, then.”

Sheila made an amused sound. “Precisely. What

did you want?”

“I was wondering if you were busy, or if you

could maybe come over for a while.” He continued

to hold Kiernan’s bright-eyed gaze. “There’s some

stuff Kiernan and I would like to run by you.”

“Twist my arm, why don’t you. Spend the

afternoon with two adorable gay men or your

brother the idiot. Gee, let me think…”

He heard Bill holler something unintelligible

about beer and a game in the background.

“Oh, that’s certainly going to persuade me to

stay here,” she yelled back. “Give me a few

minutes to change and run a brush through my hair,

and then I’ll be over. All right?”

“Perfect.”

Matt hung up. “She’s coming. In the meantime,

let me show you the paper Abby pitched at my

head.”

Chapter Twelve

“I’ll go over this again later, see if anything jumps

out at me.” Sheila put an edited copy of the

Reynolds’ guest list into her purse. “And I might

run it by Toni, if it’s all right with you?”

Matt stood in his entryway, looking at her

hesitantly. “Toni’s okay, but you can’t tell her—”

“Matthew.” She lowered her chin and looked at

him through her lashes. “Do you really think you

have to remind me?”

He pushed his hands into the back pockets of his

jeans. “There’s more going on than you know,” he

said softly. Her eyes sharpened and she opened her

mouth to speak. He beat her to it. “I can’t discuss it

yet. When I can, I will. But until then, this is very

confidential stuff, not just gossip. Having it get out

you’re discussing the guest list could actually be

dangerous.”

She frowned. “You know, of course, by saying

that you only make me want to know everything.”

“Yeah. But honestly, you shouldn’t be involved

in this. The less you know, the better. If you want

to take the chance Toni can keep her mouth shut

about something connected with one of the highest-

profile murders in this town in decades—”

“If I tell her not to talk to anyone else about it,

she won’t,” Sheila said emphatically. “Next to

you, she’s my closest friend. I’d trust her with

Kyle’s life. But Toni is a hairdresser. And

hairdressers, especially in a salon like Henri’s,

hear everything. They know who’s doing who and

where all the bodies are buried. Her help could be

invaluable, especially when you’re talking about

net worth.” She gave him a pointed look and he

nodded grudgingly.

“Thanks for coming over.”

“I’d do anything for you.” Her hazel eyes were

shining softly. “And you’re good together, the two

of you.” She nodded toward the living room, her

ash-blond hair brushing her shoulder. “He’s sort of

like an oversized puppy, isn’t he?”

Matt chuckled. It was an apt description.

“He’s so adorable,” she went on, eyes

calculating. “Fuck him yet?”

Matt’s mouth dropped open. “Sheila!” he

scolded, glancing over his shoulder toward the

living room. He lowered his voice. “Could you

keep it down? He might hear you. Christ.”

She laughed. “My, my, aren’t we defensive?

Answer’s no, then. You must be losing your touch.

But you have been out of circulation for a while,

so I suppose I should cut you some slack.”

Matt stared at her stonily, unamused.

“Nice work on his neck, though. I haven’t seen a

hickey that colorful since—”

“Go home,” he interrupted sourly, feeling his

face heat.

She reached up to touch his cheek. He ducked

away defensively, batting at her hand and sending

her an irritated look.

“Don’t be cross, I was teasing.” She paused, her

hand falling away. “He wouldn’t expect you to live

like a monk. He’d want you to be happy, you

know. Not lock yourself away like you have been.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said pointedly.

“Fine, be that way. But you know I’m right.

Brad wouldn’t want you to miss out on something,

or someone, that might be perfect for you.”

“I had perfect. I don’t think you get more than

one in a lifetime.”

“You can’t know that,” she argued. “He really

likes you. I can tell.”

“I like him, too.”

Sheila’s answering smile was hopeful. “Then

maybe it’s enough for now.” She rubbed her hand

up and down his arm. He wasn’t sure whether it

was an attempt to soothe him or herself. “I know

you. Just don’t close yourself off to the

possibilities, okay?” She squeezed his bicep. “And

for God’s sakes, fuck him already. He’s clearly

more than willing, and you need to get laid.”

Matt scowled. “You’re the only person alive I’d

let get away with that.”

“And don’t I know it!” She winked at him

before she turned and opened the front door. It had

begun to snow again. “Wonderful. I wonder if your

brother managed to get his ass off of the couch to

shovel the drive.”

She pulled her coat collar up around her chin

and left. Matt watched until she was safely in her

car and backing out of the drive before he closed

the door and locked it. He stood with his hand on

the cool wood for a few moments, her words

running through his mind, before he returned to the

living room.

Kiernan was sprawled on the floor on his

stomach, the list of names and the newspaper under

his elbows. His chin was propped on one hand,

and he was reading through the article.

“You know,” he said without looking up.

“There’s something about this article.” He shook

his head. “I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“I thought it was pretty straightforward.”

Kiernan looked up from beneath the dark curls.

“Oh, it’s not the writing. It’s…” He blew a noisy

breath out through his mouth and sat up. “I don’t

know. Something about it. Just a feeling I get, like

I’m missing something Abby was trying to tell

us…” He ran one hand through his hair absently as

he stacked the papers. “At least we’ve got the

guest list started.”

“Sheila’s got a friend she wants to run it by, a

gal who cuts hair at an upscale salon. I told her to

be very careful what she says.”

“It’s a good idea, though. Those people hear

everything that goes on in a town.”

“That’s what Sheila said.”

“She’s great, you know?” Kiernan said, sitting

up.

“She is,” he agreed. “Occasionally she needs to

butt the hell out, but she’s great.”

“It’s part of the sister clause. They reserve the

right to tell us how to live our lives and be a first-

class pain in the ass.”

“She’s not my sister.”

“Sure, she is. She’s your best friend, and she’s

married to your brother. If that doesn’t make her

your sister, I don’t know what does.” He stretched

lavishly, his arms going up over his head, and his

back arched. The wide strip of pale skin that

appeared between his shirt and his flannel pants

caught and held Matt’s attention. His heartbeat was

solid and heavy in his chest, a pleasant reminder of

what desire felt like surging through his veins.

Kiernan dropped his arms and caught Matt’s eye.

And held it.

Matt didn’t look away. He figured it must be

obvious what he was thinking when a slow,

knowing smile moved over Kiernan’s features. He

held up his hand, and Matt grabbed it and pulled

him easily to his feet. They ended up standing chest

to chest, separated only by their joined hands.

Matt’s face lowered and Kiernan’s lifted.

The feel of Kiernan’s solid chest against the

back of his hand, and the look on his face as his

eyes went half-lidded and his lips parted slightly

made Matt’s breath quicken. He tightened his grip

around Kiernan’s hand. The expressive eyes

darkened.

“Hello, there,” Kiernan murmured.

“Hey,” Matt replied, his voice deepening. It was

the closest they’d been in hours. Matt reached out

with his free hand and brushed his fingers gently

over the purple bruise just above Kiernan’s collar.

“She noticed this, by the way.”

“Did she? What did she say?”

“She complimented me on a job well done.”

Kiernan laughed.

“I don’t know, though. Not sure it’s really

colorful enough for a character like you.”

Kiernan’s eyes were shining when he angled his

head to the side, baring his throat. “Well, feel

free,” he offered, and Matt smiled.

“Tired?”

Kiernan shook his head slowly. “Nope. You?”

“I had a nap, remember?”

They were so close Matt could feel Kiernan

breathe, feel the steady rhythm of his heart beating

against the back of his hand.

“Hungry?”

Kiernan’s lips curled slowly. “Maybe later.”

His eyes dropped to Matt’s mouth. “After.” Going

up onto his toes, he opened his mouth slightly, as if

he might kiss Matt—and waited.

Matt could feel Kiernan’s breath against his

lips, catch the scent of coffee, almost taste it as he

parted his own lips in anticipation. But Kiernan

didn’t kiss him. He just remained there, hovering

as he held Matt’s gaze.

“So,” he whispered finally. “Are you going to

kiss me, or what?”

There seemed little left to talk about. Matt

lowered his head and took Kiernan’s lips in a

searching, demanding kiss.

It wasn’t long before the angle became

awkward. Matt finally released the grip on

Kiernan’s hand, circled the slender body with his

arm and lifted. His open mouth widened, and his

tongue slipped between Kiernan’s teeth. Kiernan

made a soft sound of welcome and his hand slid up

to the back of Matt’s head, his fingers spearing into

Matt’s hair.

“Want you,” Kiernan said when their lips

parted, opening his mouth against Matt’s throat.

Matt cocked his head. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” Kiernan’s free hand slid sinuously

south over Matt’s stomach, his palm covering the

thick bulge in Matt’s jeans. “Want to kiss you.”

Matt sighed, his eyes drifting closed as Kiernan

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