A Simple Twist of Fate (8 page)

Chapter Eight

Sophie got all the way to three o’clock the next afternoon without having a run-in with Beck. He stayed in his homemade office in the library all day with the door closed. Didn’t even come out to eat, which bordered on an apocalyptic event. Despite the sleek muscles and lack of body fat, the guy ate every two seconds. All the Hanover men did.

Kind of made her hate them. She ate a hamburger twice in the same week and the waistband of her pants dug into her stomach when she sat down. Stupid slow metabolism.

The lack of a Beck sighting had her wondering if he’d passed out in there or something. Also made cleaning tougher than usual. She thought about him, looked for him. The man had her spinning around in circles and acting like a pre-teen girl with her first crush.

That had to end.

She stood at the top of the stairs and glanced at her watch. Three-o-one. A sprint down the stairs and out the door and she could maintain the sort-of adult high ground and avoid Beck all day. That was a smart plan. One she had no intention of following.

The whole hiding/ducking/running thing she’d been doing since she came to Sweetwater was exhausting and not how she usually operated. Though her experience in the male department might be limited, she enjoyed men. Loved to look at them, smell them, watch them walk and hear them laugh. Her desire to dive into a relationship and have the freedom to explore everything she wanted in bed grew stronger every day.

And Beck, with the way his T-shirt hung loose on his trim waist and grazed the top of his faded jeans. He bent or twisted and that tiny slip of skin would show.

Sexiest thing ever.

Well, it was time for a showdown with the brooding hottie. The place was all wrong. The circumstances were a big heaping mess. But after a restless night and wild dreams she’d had enough waiting. Even with writing a lopsided pro and con list a mile long and mostly loaded on the negative half, she intended to ignore caution and go for it.

For once, she wanted what she wanted. This wasn’t about what she should do or what her aunt needed from her. This moment would only be about Sophie.

Before her brain cells fired up and banded together to tell her to stop, she walked to the closed door. A brief knock and she opened it, hoping surprise might play in her favor.

Beck glanced up from his position behind the long table. Hands on the sides of his head with fingers speared through his hair and papers thrown everywhere as if a mini-cyclone had blown through.

The intense gaze pinned her, even though his bent-over study position didn’t change. “What’s wrong?”

The lack of communication, her state of mind since seeing him naked . . . and those were only the start of the confused list that scrolled every time she closed her eyes. “We need to talk.”

Almost as if in slow motion, he sat back, resting one elbow on the arm of his chair. “Rarely is that a positive phrase coming from a woman.”

“You have that conversation a lot with women?” Boy did she hate that idea. He never talked about girlfriends. Leah’s questions to him one night, an interrogation Sophie hovered in the hallway and strained to hear, confirmed he hadn’t seen anyone since arriving in town. But still.

“Often enough to know something bad is coming.”

“That’s up to you.”

His head dipped to one side as he studied her. “This visit seems to be going downhill.”

“Your facial expression isn’t exactly a flashing welcome sign either.” It straddled the line between frown and glare. She wasn’t fond of either look.

Glancing around the table, his gaze hesitated over piles stacked on the floor. “Well, I am working and the door was closed.”

Blow landed
. She felt the slice right through her middle.

Fine, if he wanted to play the tough-guy role, she’d give him something to be pissy about. “You’re hiding.”

“Excuse me?”

She wondered if he had any idea how much like Callen he sounded when he used that phrase. The deadly flat tone and bruising frown. No question the act intended to telegraph anger and tell her to back off.

Not going to happen
.

Time to say what she came to say. The other stuff, about wanting him and everything of the kissing/sex/naked variety was off-limits. He didn’t seem open and she didn’t have some whacked-out internal need to make an ass of herself. “You came to my house last night.”

“Yeah.”

Clearly he was not going to make one syllable of this conversation easy. “Why?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

He shrugged at her. That’s it, an annoying lift of his impressive shoulders, giving new meaning to the term “pulling teeth.”

When he continued to sit there, all quiet and looking prepared to stay that way for weeks, she made a mental pivot. “Tom really is my landlord.”

Beck talked right over her. “That’s not my business.”

So a verbal battle it would be
. “You asked.”

“Yesterday.”

“But today you don’t care. If I sleep with him, date him. All of that is fine with you?”

Beck’s long fingers wrapped around the edge of the chair arm. “The guy’s a bit old for you, isn’t he?”

The comment, delivered in the cold and emotionless tone, landed like a shot. The air rushed out of her and words collided in her brain. “That’s all you have to say?”

“I figure that observation was stepping over the line already since your private life is none of my business.”

“If you say so.”

The serious way he handled house matters didn’t surprise her, but gone were the sly glimpses, the way he followed her with his gaze. The banter and slick heat of sexual tension disappeared under the withering tone of disapproval.

“Sophie, look.” He wiped a hand over his forehead. “Maybe the signals are getting crossed here, but our relationship is employer-employee only.”

Maybe for him. She didn’t want to believe it, but it was possible she’d mixed up the anxiety over her search with attraction.

She almost doubled over at the thought, but the strength in her voice didn’t waver. “I work for Declan.”

“You work for all of us.”

“And you’re saying my private life doesn’t matter to you.” It actually ached a little to give voice to the words. She’s spent a lot of time insisting Beck was nothing more than fodder for a series of sensual fantasies, but having him sit there and stare her down like some misbehaving employee, to deny she meant anything, blasted through with a force that shook her.

“Exactly.”

She grabbed on to a chair to keep from falling down. The one-word response, so punishing and immediate, made her see this was about more than meaningless sex for her. He actually had the power to hurt her.

She cleared her throat. “Happy we settled that.”

Better to know now and cut out than invite pain. She had her aunt’s stark life as a lesson. Despite being a confident, married businesswoman, she’d wandered right into Charlie’s line of fire and her world imploded. Sophie wanted more for herself.

“I agree.” Beck’s fist tightened and he swallowed hard enough for her to see it.

Ah, there it was. So much for the sharp words. He felt something.

The lying weasel.

“Good to know.” She turned and headed for the door.

Her vision blurred at the edges but she kept her head down and her feet moving. The idea of a conversation punctuated by curt responses made the blood pound in her temples. Losing it in front of him was an extreme she dreaded.

Her hand hit the doorknob. Her fingers slid and her grip failed. It took two tries and more than a little rattling for her to turn it.

Just when the door opened a crack, his body pressed against hers and the door slammed shut again. His front skimmed her back. The outline of his thighs and stirring of his erection were right there. So much for thinking he didn’t feel anything. Her being in his private place, in that room, affected him. Maybe even tempted him.

Deep-drawing breaths and the harsh puffs of air against her hair sent a tremor racing through her. She leaned into the door with her hands trapped against her chest. He was around her, touching her, his scent swirling over her.

“This can’t happen.” There was nothing flat about his tone now. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled. Those hands flexed against the door as he held her trapped between his arms.

“Why not?”

The sun streamed in the window, warming the floor and lighting the room but her vision darkened. She saw shadows. Him and him only. All other sounds and the tick of time stopped.

“I’m trying to stay away from you,” he said.

“Don’t.” She had meant to mouth the word but it came out as a breathless whisper.

“Only if you to tell me the truth.”

“Only this matters.”

He brought his arms in tighter against her sides and ran his lips across her shoulder. “So many secrets. They poison everything.” His words ground out and vibrated against her. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. “We could have this. Just this.”

One of his hands stayed on the door but the other roamed down her back. Every spot his fingertips seared, his mouth followed to soothe. “You are so tempting.”

She turned, edging her body around until her back hit the solid surface and her gaze fell on his face. Heat pulsed off him and burned in his eyes. “Kiss me,” she said. “I’m telling you to.”

He picked up her hand and placed a soft kiss in her palm. “I won’t stop if I start.”

Her heart flipped over but she didn’t say anything. She’d only be begging. After last night’s reaction and the initial chill when she walked in, he had to make the final move. She pushed open the door and walked in. She gave permission with her words and her body. The rest was for him to choose.

He leaned in, nuzzling; his nose slipped over hers as a hand pressed against her stomach. Cheek rubbed cheek. Skin touched skin. His breath brushed over her as his need fell around them.

There was nothing carefree or disinterested in his reaction. The attraction thumped and thrashed. A living, breathing thing.

His mouth hovered over hers. His lips tickling as they swept across hers with the barest of touches. “Tell me what you’re hiding.”

The words, so soft and pleading, washed over her. The temptation to spill her aunt’s sordid story clawed at Sophie. But the time wasn’t right. The secrets weren’t hers. “Can’t this just be about us?”

He lowered his head until he blocked out the world behind him. His mouth crashed over hers. There was nothing light and searching. This was bruising and hot and tethered by the harsh whip of desire. Lips crossed over lips and her hands slipped around his neck and her fingers dove into his hair. Their clothes rustled as they fought to get closer. Their mouths met and melded until she wondered how she had ever waited this long.

She could smell him, feel him . . . taste him.

Then he pulled back. Ragged breaths forced his chest up and down. With a hand on her bare skin just below her collarbone and the other slapped against the wall, his gaze searched her face. Her pulse sped up as his fingertips traced a circle against her bare skin.

“Do you still think we can separate our lives into pieces and shut out the parts you’re not ready to talk about?” His face stayed blank, but there was a twinge of sadness in his voice.

Until that moment she’d never realized she wanted anything like that. But the underlying question behind his words hinted at something bigger. Something she secretly craved. At age ten, her world changed from safe and bright to punishing darkness. Alone in her room reading under the covers about brave young girls solving crimes while her own world unspooled. Sophie knew the crippling power of devastating loss.

Her aunt and uncle, the warm home they’d built, eased some of the pain, but the fear lingered. Still, she owed them, especially her aunt, who had given up so much. Loyalty called and Sophie’s emotions warred inside her.

She tried to funnel all her will into making him understand. “We could try this way. Just see and go from there.”

His thumb traveled over her chin and across her swollen bottom lip. “I’m the wrong guy for that.”

She had no idea what he was saying but she felt the chill breeze as he stepped back. “Beck?”

“I have to get back to work.”

Thoughts and excuses bombarded her brain. Disappointment and a touch of anger played at the edge of her mind. She wanted to set aside the fear and call him back. She wanted to promise him something to restore his touch. Instead, she spun around and grabbed for the doorknob. Her muscles shook with unspent adrenaline but this time she yanked it open.

She got out and down the stairs before she realized she’d found the one guy on the planet who actually wanted some sort of honest commitment.

***

Two hours later Beck paced the kitchen, still trying to figure out the most inventive and painful way to kick his own ass. There were only a few more hours of sunlight so he had to step it up. Even now, dark clouds rolled in, warning of a storm to come. A poetic omen for today.

He was an absolute jackass. When a woman offered you uncomplicated, no-strings mattress time,
you fucking took it
.

Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he turned a willing woman away. Never one who looked like Sophie. Not one who kissed like that or made him so hard his balls burned.

Damn, his head still spun at the memory of that blinding kiss. She tasted and smelled and felt as amazing as he knew she would. There was no need to play fill-in-the-blanks on his fantasies tonight. Surviving the intensity could be the bigger issue. Many more scenes like the one in the library and he’d be confined to an ice bath for months.

Women
. Strike that. One woman. One sexy, dark-haired woman who made his dick get hard and his mind go blank.

Now Beck understood what Declan had been saying about Leah. She stormed into his life and changed everything. Beck fought off that possibility with Sophie. He liked his job and the house was growing on him. It would give him a place to come back to when the work was done.

He’d travel and relax . . . and there was no room for Sophie no matter how great she kissed. At least not so long as she kept lying.