Deadly Intentions (Hardy Brothers Security Book 1) (7 page)

The next morning came too soon for Mandy. Her sleep had been restless, dreams of James and speeding cars invading her subconscious. Finally, once the sun edged over the horizon, lighting her bedroom haven, she was done. She wasn’t going to pretend to sleep anymore.

She was careful to open her bedroom door as quietly as possible. The hollow wood had simply served as a weak barrier between her desires and the man in the other room for six mind-numbing hours. She kind of hated that door now.

Mandy edged into the living room, pressing her body against the wall as she did, focusing on the sleeping man on the couch.

The first thing she saw was his jeans on the floor. She sucked in a breath.
Did he wear underwear? Did he wear boxers or briefs? Was he naked?
Mandy pushed the thoughts out of her mind.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, forcing herself further into the room. Once she adjusted to the sunshine streaming in through the partially-opened blinds, her mind was jumbled with sex thoughts again.

Shit.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt.
Of course he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Why would he wear a shirt? God obviously hated her.
Mandy’s eyes wandered down his naked torso, fighting the desire pooling inside of her. She knew he was built. That knowledge was woefully lacking under the harsh light of a new day. His arms were stacked with more muscles than should be allowed by law. His chest was as cut as a Greek statue – eight abs poking out near the edge of his boxers.
Yep, he wore boxers.
His eyes were closed, his face peaceful. He looked like an angel.
A really, really hot angel.

Mandy swallowed hard, mentally urging herself to move forward. She found the kitchen, making sure to keep her noise level minimal as she padded onto the cold linoleum.
She was just going to make coffee. She made coffee every day. There was nothing special about today.

James was aware of her movements from his place on the couch. He kept his eyes closed, but his senses were fully awake. He’d slept some during the night, but the spurts were short and the frequency between them long. He had no idea why he was feigning sleep; he just knew it was necessary to his current emotional survival.

Mandy snapped the drawer of the coffee machine closed, sucking in a breath when she heard the accompanying “snick.” Waking James up didn’t seem like a wise move. If he woke up, she would have to acknowledge his presence in her home.
Maybe she could just hide in the pantry until he woke up and left?

James argued with himself behind his closed eyelids. He should get up. If he got up, he would see what she looked like in the morning and he wouldn’t be able to resist taking her right back to her bed. He just knew it. He should continue pretending he was asleep, he internally countered. If he pretended he was sleeping, he would eventually have to wake up.
How long could he pretend? What the hell was she wearing anyway? Was she wearing underwear?

Once the smell of fresh coffee hit his olfactory senses James gave in. He needed to wake up and face the day. It wasn’t like they’d done anything. Okay, it wasn’t like he’d done anything that she could possibly know about.

James’ eyes snapped open and he took in the bland ceiling above him.
It was time.
He quietly got to his feet, forcing his eyes to meet Mandy’s across the kitchen island. His heart was hammering as he took her in. Her hair was tousled, her face free of makeup. If it was possible, she looked sexier than she ever had.
Crap.

“Good morning,” he choked out.

It should be illegal for anyone to look that good in the morning, Mandy thought, running her hand through her snaggled hair. She should have brushed it before leaving the relative safety of her bedroom, she realized.
Well, shit, it was too late now.
“Good morning.”

James felt lost. “How did you sleep?”

The dark circles under her eyes were a giveaway, but she lied anyway. “Good. You?”

James was certain his heaving chest was an overt hint, but he couldn’t do anything but lie. “Great. You?”

Mandy frowned, her pouty lips forming a perfect heart. “Um, fine.”

“Oh, right,” James said, realizing he’d already asked her that question, mentally smacking himself with a brick as penance.

Mandy found herself caught in an emotional whirlpool. “How did you sleep?”

James couldn’t hide the smile this time.
She was as nervous as he was.
“Good.”

“Right.” Mandy mentally chastised her stupidity.
Could she be more of a dork?
She didn’t think it was possible. “Right.”

Thankfully for both of them, the uncomfortable silence jumping from one apartment wall to the other was interrupted by a knock at the front door of the apartment. James was instantly alert, reaching for the gun on the table. Mandy froze.
No one would come here, would they?

“Stay there,” he cautioned, crouching down and moving toward the front door of the apartment. He glanced through the peephole, forcing out a sigh of relief when he saw two familiar faces standing on the other side. Then, one glance down at his boxer shorts brought him back to reality. “Crap.”

James sucked in a breath and opened the door. He knew what Grady and Finn were thinking the minute they saw him, but he refused to acknowledge it. “You got my text?” He needed to take control of this situation before they did.

“We got it,” Grady said, his eyes running over James curiously. “How was your night?”

James puffed out his chest. “I slept on the couch.”

“Sure you did.”

When James didn’t open the door further, Grady tapped on it impatiently. “Are you going to let us in? Or is she not decent yet?”

James moved his eyes from Grady and found Finn. “I slept on the couch.”

Finn was just as doubtful as Grady. “So you told us.”

“I slept on the couch,” James repeated lamely, opening the door to let his brothers inside, despite his reticence. “Nothing happened.”

“Uh-huh.”

Finn stopped in the hallway long enough to glance in the direction of Mandy’s bedroom. The covers were twisted, a clear sign that no one had slept well between those four walls the night before. Sadly, Finn knew his brother well enough to realize that the evidence might be misleading.

A few more steps and he entered the living room to find a blanket and pillow still resting on the couch. James’ jeans were on the floor beside it and, even though he was shirtless, Finn had no doubt his brother had played the role of martyr the night before.

“Seriously?”

James ignored him. “Did you find anything out?”

Mandy wasn’t surprised to see Finn and Grady in her apartment. Disappointed? Sure. Surprised? No. The Hardy brothers were inseparable.
Some things never change.

“Hey,” she greeted them. Suddenly, she felt overtly naked. She was wearing pink, cotton sleep pants and a knit tank top – bra included, just to be on the safe side. Still, she was mostly bare. “You guys want coffee?”

Grady’s eyes roamed over Mandy’s body. She was dressed – but just barely. He couldn’t help but be intrigued. One glance at James, and the hard look on his face changed Grady’s mindset almost immediately. “Coffee sounds great.”

Mandy pulled four mugs down from the cupboard above the sink and filled each one. She delivered three mugs to the Hardy brothers, all of whom had seated themselves around her small dining room table, and then she made her way back into the kitchen. She could hear what they were saying over the island – but the particle wood that made up the cheap cupboards made her feel emotionally safe.

Without even considering what she was doing, Mandy turned and reached into the refrigerator – pulling out fresh mushrooms, tomatoes, onions, cheese and eggs. She combined the ingredients in a bowl, added a little milk, and then started whisking it briskly. For some reason, she needed to do something with her hands.

From his spot at the table, James watched her. She was breathtaking in her morning simplicity. If his brothers weren’t present he would’ve given in to his baser needs five minutes ago and those stupid eggs she was stirring would still be in the refrigerator. Grady and Finn were like an immovable chastity belt, and he was thankful for it. Kind of.

“So, what did you find out?” He repeated the question.

“There are no cameras in the parking lot,” Finn offered. “The only witnesses are the two of you, and you only came up with one number and one letter from the license plate. We’re running it, but you know that could take forever.”

“What about police reports?” James pressed, his eyes traveling to his jeans on the floor. He desperately wanted to put them on, to minimize his exposure. He just didn’t want his brothers to accumulate more ammunition to attack him with later. Instead, he pretended being naked – except for his boxer shorts – was a normal, everyday occurrence.

“The sheriff’s department isn’t taking this very seriously,” Grady admitted.

James blew out a frustrated sigh. “That doesn’t surprise me. The deputy on the scene last night was less than helpful.”

“Did you see anything helpful?” Finn asked.

“No,” James gritted out. “I was more focused on getting her out of the path of the car than trying to memorize anything about the car.”

“Totally understandable,” Finn said, glancing over to Mandy. “Totally understandable.”

Mandy’s back was to the three brothers. She focused on the omelet in the pan in front of her, refusing to turn around and meet James’ intense gaze. She could feel it on her back. She just wasn’t ready to acknowledge it.

“What do you think?” Grady asked finally, attempting to break the uncomfortable silence enveloping the room.

“It’s got to be someone watching the courthouse,” James said. “Otherwise, how would they know when she was leaving? She was three hours past quitting time. Someone had to be waiting.”

“Why were you there so late?” Finn asked, turning his attention to Mandy. She seemed uncomfortable, and Finn had a hard time believing it was simply because of the events in the parking lot last night. He knew there was definitely something else going on here.

Mandy didn’t turn around. She answered the question, proving that she was hanging on every word. “I had work to finish.”

“Did you see anyone inside before you left?” Finn asked.

“Just Clint.”

“Who is Clint?”

“He’s the security guard I told you about,” James replied. “What was he doing there?”

“He picked up a night shift,” Mandy answered, focusing on the pan as she slid the omelet onto the wooden cutting board on the counter. “He said he liked the extra money.”

James frowned, but the expression was lost on Mandy as she focused on the omelet. “Does he usually work nights?”

“Not that I know of.”

“You don’t find that suspicious?”

Mandy cut the omelet into four parts, divvying it up onto different plates. She balanced the plates on her arm, grabbing forks from the drawer as she moved around the island and stepped into the dining room. “No.”

“Why not?” James asked, glancing down at the omelet as she slid the plate in front of him. He fought the urge to start eating it with his hands. He had to fill the gaping hole in his stomach with something. And, if he couldn’t get what he really wanted, food was going to have to do.

“This looks great,” Finn enthused, taking a fork from Mandy and digging in immediately.

“It sure does,” Grady agreed.

Mandy took the open spot at the far end of the table, pulling her own plate to a centered position in front of her. “Thanks.”

James frowned as his stomach rumbled. She was being purposely obstinate. He just knew it. He couldn’t fight his hunger, so he tilted the fork to its side and cut into the food. He forked a bite into his mouth, surprised at how good it tasted.
Where did she learn to cook? Hot women did not cook.

After two bites, James returned to the topic at hand. “What makes you so sure Clint couldn’t be responsible?”

“Because he would have to be Superman to get from the lobby out to the parking lot before me,” Mandy replied, meeting James’ challenging gaze evenly. “He’s not exactly an athlete.”

James couldn’t argue with her logic – but he had to argue with something, so he did. “You can’t be sure of that.”

“How can you be sure he’s guilty?”

“I’m not sure,” James replied after swallowing another bite. “I’m just not naïve enough to think he’s harmless.”

Mandy’s face colored – with rage instead of embarrassment, for the first time this morning. “I’m not an idiot,” she countered. “I just don’t think Clint is a killer.”

James’ jaw tightened. “Okay, let’s say for the sake of saying that you’re right. Just who do you think is trying to kill you?”

Mandy frowned, searching her mind for a name – any name – to throw back in James’ face. Unfortunately, she was coming up with a big, fat blank. “I don’t know.”

“Well, great,” James replied. “Why don’t you just sit there then and let the professionals do their work?”