His To Keep (3 page)

“When I pulled away, he looked like I’d shot him. He just sat there for what felt like forever. Then he said, ‘Stick to boys your own age, little girl. You don’t know what you’re asking for.’ Then he got up and walked out.”

She felt the blush burn under her skin. “He made sure we were never alone after that. But since Janey and I were practically inseparable, it wasn’t like I could avoid him. I was so humiliated. I couldn’t look him in the eyes for months.”

Colin whistled low and soft. “Sounds like you had it bad for the guy.”

“I did. But that kiss brought me to my senses.”

Of course it had.

She hated when she couldn’t even fool herself. She still felt such an overwhelming sense of loss when she thought about that day.

Trying to shake it off, she sipped the rest of her water. “He didn’t want me. So I gave up. Now, he deliberately rubs me the wrong way any time he can. The only thing I feel for him now is indifference.”

She forced herself to look Colin straight in the eyes but he wasn’t having any of it.

He snorted. “Yeah, right. Tell me you wouldn’t jump him if he gave you the chance.”

In a heartbeat.

She shook her head, unsure if she was trying to convince herself or Colin. “Absolutely not. Anyway, he’s been untouchable since he left the army. The man lives for work. He never dates, at least not that Janey knows about. Besides, I’m seeing Brad.” She frowned when Colin rolled his eyes. “What? Don’t you like Brad?”

“Honey, if the man played for my team, I’d like him a hell of a lot. And I’m not so sure he doesn’t. But just the fact that you think he’s The One worries me.”

“Why? Brad’s a great guy. He’s considerate, thoughtful and he treats me like a queen. He’s got a great job and a great body—”

“And you would know this from first-hand experience?” Colin’s voice dripped with undisguised doubt.

She roasted him with a look. “Hey, just because I don’t jump into bed with every—”

“Honey, you don’t jump into bed with any of them. None of them even come close to that sanctified fortress you call a home, do they? None of them measure up to your rigid—” He broke off, eyes widening in understanding. “Ah.”

“‘Ah’ what?”

“They don’t measure up to him.”

No, absolutely not. That definitely was not it. “You’re wrong. Nic has nothing to do with why I don’t sleep around.” A shudder rippled through her at the crude words. “I have to trust a man to sleep with them and those are few and far between.”

Colin shook his head. “Do you think maybe you’re looking in the wrong places?”

She nodded. “Every time another one breaks my heart. I guess I just never learn, huh?”

Colin’s smile was bittersweet. “Honey, I think you’re one of the smartest people I know.” He took a deep breath then stood. “Come on. We’ve only got a few weeks until this competition. Let’s not waste the time we have talking about things we can’t change.”

* * * * *

Nic hunched in the front seat of his Audi, baseball cap pulled low on his brow. His gaze focused on the windows of her townhouse from his parking space halfway down Bainbridge Street.

It was nearly midnight. Where the hell was she? Would she even come home tonight?

With a rough sigh, he reached for the travel mug that only left his car to be refilled and, occasionally, to be washed. Tonight it held hot coffee from the diner on South Street, sweetened with five packs of sugar. Just the way he liked it.

Annie could do with a little sweetening. Maybe he’d suggest she add some sugar to the one cup of black coffee she had at the office every morning. She’d probably tell him to stick his head in his ass. In the most socially acceptable terms.

Sighing, he checked the rearview for what had to be the thousandth time. If she didn’t get home soon, he’d knock on his sister Janey’s door, across the street from Annie’s. He didn’t want to disturb her, but he couldn’t trust his instincts where Annie was concerned.

Where the hell was she this late? Had something happened to her?

That damn call had made him paranoid.

But he couldn’t take a chance. Not with Annie. He didn’t take chances with his family.

After she’d left the office tonight, dressed in her tight little leotard, he’d ripped Bill and Bert new assholes.

They hadn’t deserved it. He’d called them, asked them to stop by because he’d wanted to ask them a few questions about some mutual acquaintances.

But whenever Annie was around, his brain short-circuited somewhere between reality and fantasy. Having her so close these past six weeks had made him crazy. He needed to get a grip before he made a fool of himself.

“Like you haven’t already,” he muttered.

He’d barely been able to resist grabbing her and kissing her until he couldn’t breathe anymore. Or, more likely, she’d pushed him away.

Shit. It was still early. He should head down to the waterfront, hit a club, find a willing woman. Maybe ease some of this frustration.

He was thirty-six. He shouldn’t be out picking up women. He should be looking for a good woman to marry. Settle down. Have kids.

Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.

He had work, he had his family, and he had Toni and Mags to look after like he’d promised Nino. That would be enough.

But here he sat, waiting to make sure Annie got home safe. He was one pathetic son-of-a-b–

A taxi flashed by and stopped in front of her house. Annie emerged. Alone.

He watched her open and close the front door, watched lights flash on then off in the first floor. Then another light appeared on the second.

He stared at the glow until if blinked off, a good forty-five minutes later. Then he left.

Chapter Two

“Annie, I need three copies of this report, and I need one sent to the Pentagon.”

Jimmy DeMarco stuck his head through her office doorway Friday morning and grinned at her, waving a sheaf of papers.

She couldn’t help but return his easy smile.

“Sure, just put it here.” She patted a corner of her desk. “I’ll get right to it.”

“Thanks, hon.” He laid the papers on her desk then leaned a hip against the edge. “I appreciate it. You’ve been a real help around here. You stepped right in and took charge. Gotta love that in a woman.”

She smiled up at him. Jimmy was pure charm. He might resemble a slacker, with his worn jeans and geeky t-shirts but the guy had an I.Q. near 200.

While his dark hair came from his Italian father, the rest was pure Irish from his mother. His face was composed of sharply tilted angles in his cheekbones and nose, and a full mouth that almost always held a smile.

Why couldn’t she have fallen for this DeMarco all those years ago?

“You’re a flirt, Jimmy,” she scolded lightly, giving the papers a quick look. Whatever the report was, it was in numerical code. She’d gotten real good at using her numbered keypad in the past six weeks.

“Yeah, but I’m good at it.” He wiggled his up-tilted brows at her. “So, how do you like working for this bunch of weirdos?”

“You’re not weird. You’re just a little…eccentric.”

Expect for Nic, of course. He was simply rude and pedestrian.

“Yeah, that’s a good word. Eccentric.” Jimmy flopped into one of the two chairs in front of her desk. “I like that. So do you like it here?”

Nodding, she leaned back in her chair. “I love it here.” Then she couldn’t help herself. “Except for your brother, of course.”

Jimmy’s smile returned. “You two still at it, huh? If he’s giving you a hard time, I could take him out for you. He’s not the only one in this family who learned how to fight, you know.”

“Yeah, but you can’t land a punch to save your life, little brother.”

Annie stiffened as her gaze flew to the doorway, where Nic leaned against the jamb, completely at ease. How the man managed to simply appear was a mystery to her.

“No, but I got some neat toys in the basement that would take care of you in about five seconds flat,” Jimmy said. “How ’bout a little needle, big brother?”

Nic’s expression never changed. “You’d have to catch me first, Jimmy, and believe me, you wouldn’t.”

A needle, huh? Something the great Nic DeMarco was afraid of. She knew he didn’t like small spaces after he’d been trapped in an elevator during an earthquake. But that seemed so logical, given the circumstances. This was purely illogical. And she pounced on it with all the glee of a cat on a mouse.

“I didn’t think you had any weaknesses.” She sniffed. “Except, of course, that huge ego you carry around all the time. That must get really tiresome.”

Jimmy choked on a laugh, but Nic didn’t flinch, his midnight blue gaze landing on her with the weight of a bulldozer. She refused to give him the satisfaction of blinking first and dug out a smile to throw at him.

When he looked away, dismissing her with no more effort than swatting a fly, her lungs contracted as if she’d been sucker-punched.

Damn him.

“Jimmy, I need to go over something with you. Can we talk downstairs?”

Jimmy hesitated before answering, his gaze narrowing as he looked between her and Nic. “Sure. Give me a minute. I’ll be right there.”

Nic’s mouth tightened slightly before he nodded and disappeared. He didn’t look at her again.

She released the breath she’d been holding.

Jimmy gave her a wry smile. “You know, I’ve been wondering about something, but I think I got the answer to my question without having to ask. Talk to you later, hon.”

When Jimmy left, she grabbed the stapler off her desk and threw it across the room, where it bounced harmlessly off the couch.

* * * * *

Jimmy sat in a high-backed steel chair amid the controlled chaos of his basement domain, looking at Nic expectantly.

“So, you gonna tell me what’s got you all dark and menacing-looking, bro? I haven’t seen you like this since someone tried to blow up your plane. You were pretty pissed after that. You look worse today.”

Nic’s brows lifted before he could hide his response. He shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d always had to work harder to hide his emotions around his siblings, especially Jimmy.

He took a deep breath and cut to the chase. “Got a phone call earlier today. I need you to trace it. I don’t want Mom and Dad involved.”

Jimmy chuckled at that. “What, you think the ’rents couldn’t handle your nasty past coming back to bite you?”

Nic didn’t bother to hide his bitter smile. “Yeah, something like that.”

Ignoring Jimmy’s narrowed gaze, he pulled his cell from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. Late April in Philadelphia was bitter this year. Matched his mood. Reluctantly, he called up the call log and held it out to his brother, handling it as gently as he would a live grenade. And maybe it was, in a figurative sense.

Fear tasted like acid in the back of his throat. He hadn’t wanted to involve Jimmy in this, but he knew his brother would keep this secret.

It’d only been six months since their father had had angioplasty to open two arteries. And, though Frank had tried to keep it a secret, Nic had discovered what his father had kept from his brother and sister—that he may need open-heart surgery to treat another artery. The doctor had told Frank to take it easy, cut back on the stress. Dad wasn’t taking new cases, and Mom was cutting back on hers, which was why they’d hired Mal Laughlin. It looked as if his parents finally were going to ease into retirement.