The Heart of Christmas (14 page)

“When I left, I thought you weren’t going to stay much longer. Isn’t Sunday your day off?”

It usually was, but she wasn’t in any hurry to go home. She was afraid she’d just mope around, thinking of Brent, and she refused to be
this
disappointed over a guy she’d met only a few days ago. With Ted she’d had a long history and a commitment of sorts, so there’d been something substantial to mourn.

Anyway, she’d decided to finish the December menus Cheyenne had begun, check the pantry for supplies and place an online order for anything they might need. Why not get an early start instead of leaving the inn vulnerable to delayed deliveries caused by the typical Christmas congestion?

“You know what owning a business is like,” she said. “Yours is a different kind of business than mine, but it still takes a lot of time, effort and energy. It’s more than just writing the books.”

“You’ve put your heart and soul into that B and B,” he said, ignoring what she’d said about him and his business. “Are you still thinking of leaving it behind?”

“No.” At least, not if she was pregnant. If she was going to have a baby, she’d want to stay right here and provide a wonderful life for that child. Being a mother wasn’t all she wanted; she preferred to be a wife, too. But she’d done everything she could to find a husband and—no luck.

“Glad to hear it,” he said.

He arrived at the B and B fifteen minutes later, while she was still reorganizing that box. Pamela, who split all the nightshifts and the days Eve was off with Cecelia, walked him back to her office.

“I didn’t even realize she was here,” Eve heard Pam exclaim.

“Considering how much she works, it can’t surprise you.”

“No,” she responded with a laugh. “Maybe that’s why I didn’t notice her come in.”

Pam hadn’t been anywhere in sight, but Eve didn’t comment. She merely glanced up as Ted entered the room.

“There you are,” he said.

“And here’s what you’re looking for.” With a smile of appreciation for her employee, she shoved the box in Ted’s direction. “I hope it helps. I’ve read through most of what’s in there and didn’t find anything new, but you’ll be able to document certain facts. There are deeds, legal descriptions, death certificates, birth certificates, copies of journals, newspaper articles and old photographs they somehow collected. So...it’s all yours until you’re done and don’t need it anymore. Then I’d like to get everything back so I can go over it with the historical society, like I said.”

“Of course. But before I go, I have a little something for you.” He put an envelope on her desk.

“What’s this?” she asked as she picked it up.

“I had Chief Bennett do me a favor.”

“The police chief? What sort of favor?”

“I had him run the plates on your new friend’s Land Rover.”

“Without probable cause? Isn’t that illegal?”

“It’s not like we searched his room, Eve. Chief Bennett doesn’t need probable cause to run a license plate. He does it routinely while he’s driving behind people. Most cops do.”

“But Brent hasn’t done anything wrong. Why would Chief Bennett agree to do such a thing?”

“Because I wouldn’t ask unless I had some sincere concerns.”

Eve glared at him. “How do you even know Brent drives a Land Rover? When you mentioned him earlier, you acted as if you’d seen him just that once, when he came in while we were talking in the parlor.”

“That
is
the only time I’ve seen him. But the discrepancy in what he told you and what he told Noelle had me worried, so I called Cheyenne to see what she thought of the situation.”

“
What
situation?”

“A strange man in town possibly taking advantage of someone we both care about. If it was another woman, another member of our group, wouldn’t you expect us to look out for her? Why wouldn’t we do the same for you? Anyway, Dylan got on the phone and said he wished we could do some sort of background check. He’d made a note of Brent’s license plate number. But he didn’t have the relationship with Bennett to ask him to access the DMV records, so I offered.”

“I see.” Eve came to her feet. “And how do
you
have a relationship with Bennett? He hasn’t been in Whiskey Creek that long himself. What’s it been—a year?”

“He’s from Jackson, which isn’t far, so he’s got a similar background.” He grinned. “He’s also a big fan of my books.”

“Isn’t
that
flattering,” she said. “You must be very proud of yourself. But did it never occur to you or Dylan that you were meddling in something that’s none of your business?”

He scowled, but she could tell by the stubborn set of his mouth that he felt he was well within his rights. Of course Ted, being Ted, would have thought it all out. “It did,” he said. “Neither of us
wanted
to do this. But...the guy could be a serial killer for all we know. There’s nothing wrong with making sure he’s a legit character, is there? We don’t want to let him victimize you or anyone else in town.”

That actually wasn’t so unusual. These days lots of women ordered background checks on the men they dated. Being cautious was considered wise. But checking up on Brent without Brent’s knowledge, especially when it involved contacting the police, felt...intrusive. Disloyal. It also made her fear for him, worry that it might cause him to be arrested, which was crazy. If he was what he said he was, there’d be nothing for either of them to fear.

“I’ve never snuck around and checked up on anyone before,” she grumbled.

He tilted his head as if she was being difficult for no reason. “Neither have I. Because it hasn’t been necessary until now. Here in Whiskey Creek, we know everyone’s background. But he’s new, and he’s not exactly an open book.”

She sighed as she turned the envelope over in her hands. “Shit.”

“What? Are you really mad at us?”

“No. I understand that you have my best interests at heart.” She also knew they had a valid reason to worry. “I just feel terrible—slimy—looking at what’s inside this envelope.”

“Don’t feel slimy,” he said. “It doesn’t tell you much. Except that he’s been lying.”

Her blood ran cold even though she’d suspected, almost from the beginning, that Brent hadn’t been telling the truth. “About?”

“Dylan said he told everyone at your parents’ house yesterday that he owns a landscaping business in Bakersfield.”

“You’re saying he doesn’t?”

“He might, I guess. But that Land Rover is registered to a company called All About Security, Inc., which has a P.O. box in the Bay Area.”

Her mind reverted to those numbers Brent had jotted down on the pad by his computer. They all had Bay Area prefixes....

But a few phone numbers didn’t amount to a smoking gun.

“That doesn’t tell us anything,” she said stubbornly.

“Check out the webpage for All About Security, Eve. It tells us he’s more likely a bodyguard than a landscaper.”

Then he picked up the box of papers and walked out.

15

A
fter Ted left, Eve pulled up the All About Security, Inc., website and combed through every page. Sure enough, it was a bodyguard service. But what she read didn’t tell her a whole lot. There were no names mentioned, not even the owner’s. There was some generic contact information, the range of services offered, the prices for standard jobs, plus a link a visitor could use to get a quote for full-time protection. She also read a blurb about the dependability of the AAS bodyguards and some endorsements from business leaders and city officials who had hired this company to provide security at certain events.

“So why wouldn’t you just say you were a bodyguard?” she asked despite the fact that Brent wasn’t around to answer. She wasn’t sure if he’d be coming back, or if watching him drive out of town had been the end of it. She’d been trying to wait and see, didn’t want to let her obsession with him leave her any more disappointed, any sadder, than she already was. But her curiosity wouldn’t let her rest. So she got Mrs. Higgins’s number from her mother and called.

“This is Eve, over at Little Mary’s,” she said when the older woman answered.

“Oh, yes. Adele’s daughter. What can I do for you?”

“Mr. Taylor left something behind when he was staying at the B and B, and...he’s your new renter, isn’t he?”

“You mean Brent. Yes. What a nice young man.”

Eve could only hope so. “Is he around?”

“No, dear. I’m afraid he went out earlier and said he wouldn’t be back until late.”

“But his things are there?”

“His what?” she said.

Eve spoke louder. “His belongings. Are they still in his room?”

“I suppose so. He wasn’t carrying anything, but...just a sec.”

There was a long pause before Mrs. Higgins came back on the phone. “Yes. His suitcase is in the corner, where he keeps it. Did he say he was leaving for good?”

“Not that I know of, I...saw him drive out of town and thought he might be going back wherever he came from.”

“Not yet. Not until after Christmas.”

“Right.”

“Would you like me to tell him you called?”

Eve
didn’t
want that, but she knew it would seem strange for her to say he’d left something behind and then not give her number, so he could retrieve it. She had no choice. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

Fortunately, Mrs. Higgins didn’t seem to have heard the rumors that were floating around. Maybe she wouldn’t. But it was always possible. She got her hair done at the same place most people did, shopped at the same grocery store and went to the same gas station. So maybe she just hadn’t made the connection between Brent and the stranger Eve had taken home from Sexy Sadie’s.

“Thanks,” she said, and hung up.

Eve was on the internet, looking for what else might pop up in a search for Brent’s name, his brother’s name and All About Security, when her cell phone rang.

She was tempted to ignore it. She was engrossed in what she was doing. But then she saw that it was Cheyenne and was perturbed enough by what Dylan and Ted had done to answer.

“Did you know your husband and our dear friend Ted had Chief Bennett run Brent’s license plates?” she asked.

“I did,” Cheyenne replied. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure how I felt about going that far, but...Dylan and Ted convinced me we should.”

“Is this payback?”

“Payback?” Cheyenne echoed.

“For when I was worried about you getting involved with Dylan?”

Cheyenne laughed. “No. Not at all. The truth is that none of us wants to see you get hurt. And if that means being extra...vigilant, well, I figured it was better to err on that side. It’s not like we owe Brent anything if he isn’t going to be honest with us.”

There
was
that. Why was he lying? Was there something in his past he felt he had to hide? Even if there was, it didn’t seem as though he was trying to take advantage of her, not when he kept warning her about his limitations. He’d also handed over five thousand dollars just in case she was pregnant.

“He might be honest in the areas that really count,” she said, speaking her thoughts aloud.

“Telling you he’s a landscaper from Bakersfield when it looks like he’s a bodyguard from the Bay Area
doesn’t
count?”

She’d been talking about
emotional
honesty. “Not if he doesn’t intend to hurt me.”

“How can you base any kind of relationship on that?” she asked.

Cheyenne had a point. But what Cheyenne, Dylan and Ted didn’t understand was that Brent hadn’t shown any interest in the things a life-wrecker or con artist might be hoping to gain. He wasn’t after her money. He hadn’t tried to ingratiate himself that way, wasn’t trying to latch on so he could live off her. He’d told her repeatedly not to expect a relationship. He wasn’t after sex, or not exclusively. He could easily get that from other women without the obligations—like having dinner with her parents—that came with seeing the same woman over and over.

So what
did
he want?

From what she could tell, he was hoping for a little human kindness, a chance to lose himself in someone he enjoyed and wanted to be with, someone who was at peace and could offer him a brief respite from whatever he was going through. He’d described his life as empty. She got the impression he was trying to fill it—even if the relief he sought was short-lived.

“I’m not sure,” she told Cheyenne. She didn’t believe he was dangerous in the same way they did. But that didn’t mean she could trust him with her heart.

* * *

By the time he returned to Whiskey Creek, Rex was exhausted. He didn’t want to disturb Mrs. Higgins by letting himself in so late. Like him, she struggled to sleep at night; he knew that because he’d seen the Ambien on the counter. That wasn’t something people generally kept in full view unless it was a daily necessity.

Going back to the house also meant he’d probably spend hours pacing the floor, being tempted by that sleep aid, which he couldn’t take, not after his addiction to OxyContin. He was afraid even one pill would start him down the wrong road again.

But he had no other place to go. He didn’t dare show up at Eve’s. Although he wanted to be with her, more tonight than ever, since they hadn’t parted well, he couldn’t justify continuing to intrude on her life. He couldn’t give her what she wanted, and there was no getting around that. So he entered as quietly as he could and sat in Mrs. Higgins’s living room, watching the lights twinkle on her tree and thinking about last night, particularly the hour following his call to Scarlet. Making love to Eve that time had been especially tender. He liked remembering it, the slow, soft way she’d kissed him and how they’d slept tangled up with each other afterward. The coziness of that memory made him sleepy, and yet he had so much nervous energy running through his body.

That was usually the problem. The damn nervous energy. The unpleasant memories that assaulted him. The blood of the past...

He unplugged the tree, then went into his room and fired up his laptop to check on his house. After what had happened to Scarlet, he half expected to find evidence that his own place had been trashed. But the cameras he’d installed showed every room as he’d left it, all the sensors on the doors and windows green.

So what the hell was he doing out here in this small town where he didn’t belong? Had he let Mona spook him into stepping out of his regular life for nothing?

He’d been coping so well. Better than ever.

And then this.

Clicking away from his house, he checked his email and voice mail and responded to everything. Then there was nothing to do but try to get some sleep. That was when he saw the note, written in Mrs. Higgins’s shaky handwriting, on his nightstand. “Eve Harmon called at 8:33 p.m.”

He stared at those words for several seconds. What did they mean? Did she want to see him?

He could call her to ask. Mrs. Higgins had jotted down her number.

Rex scratched his head as he tried to talk himself out of waking Eve. It was nearly two in the morning.

But he lost that internal argument. With only so many days in Whiskey Creek, he wasn’t willing to waste any more of them.

“Hello?” she said when she picked up after several rings, her voice huskier than usual—proof that she hadn’t been sitting by the phone, waiting for his call.

“Eve, it’s me.”

“Brent?”

He grimaced at the name but had to answer to it. “Yeah.”

“Where are you?”

“Home.”

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

“It’s the middle of the night, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid it is.”

“Why are you returning my call so late?”

He tightened his grip on the phone. “I want to see you,” he admitted. “We don’t have to make love. I just...I’d like to hold you if that’s okay. I...I need some sleep.” He hadn’t meant that last part to slip out, but it was true; he’d discovered that he rested better with her next to him. There was a long pause—long enough to make him realize he was asking for more than he deserved.

“Never mind,” he said. “I’m sorry. It was rude of me to disturb you.”

He started to hang up, but she caught him. “Brent?”

“What?”

“I’ll unlock the door.”

* * *

Brent had told her they didn’t need to make love, but that was the first thing they did. Eve instigated it. When he got into her bed wearing boxers, probably to assure her that he’d be true to his word, she pulled them off, and her eagerness to feel him and touch him somehow ignited a frenetic, desperate need. He yanked up her nightgown the second she removed his boxers and nearly ripped her panties, trying to get them down. It was almost as if the two of them had been kept apart for a long time, she thought distantly, and had just found each other again.

“That feels good,” she gasped as soon as he put on a condom and thrust inside her. He didn’t respond to her words. But his touch was instinctive and uncalculated, and that marked a change from their previous encounters. He’d always made sure she was satisfied first. While she appreciated the unselfishness, his actions now seemed more...significant. For once, he was completely lost in the moment. That took him beyond thought, beyond anything other than responding to what he was feeling. Eve loved knowing that she could push him outside his usual boundaries. She also loved that the man who kept telling her not to get attached, as if it was so easy to order one’s heart around, suddenly couldn’t hold back.

When he said her name, she couldn’t tell if he was asking for permission to go ahead and finish, or apologizing for how fast it had gone so far. There hadn’t been
any
foreplay. But Eve wasn’t complaining. She didn’t want him to back away. So she sank her nails into the rigid muscles of his back and arched up to meet him—and when he heard her groan in pleasure, it threw him into a climax powerful enough that she felt his whole body shudder.

After he slumped over her, they didn’t speak for several minutes. She could feel his chest rising and falling against her own, could hear the rasp of his breathing, since his mouth was so close to her ear, and smiled. He was beyond exhausted; she could tell. But he tried to rouse himself. “Let me...let me do you before we go to sleep,” he said.

“Tomorrow,” she told him, and kissed his temple as she eased him off to one side, so that they remained close but she wasn’t bearing as much of his weight.

“Okay, tomorrow.” He seemed relieved to be able to give in to his fatigue without feeling guilty about it. Turning his face into her neck, he pulled her even closer and fell asleep within seconds.

* * *

Brent was still asleep when Eve woke up. She was glad he seemed to be getting some rest. She’d seen how much he needed it and sensed that he was a troubled soul who couldn’t quite find peace. She just wasn’t sure what
she
was doing entertaining a man with such obvious problems.

She stared at the ceiling for several minutes, asking herself that question, but ultimately put it aside. Three weeks. They’d agreed on three weeks when they were at the restaurant yesterday. She’d allow herself to spend the Christmas season with him. Why not? It wasn’t as if they could keep their distance while he was in town. They were too attracted to each other.

But she wasn’t going to take any of it seriously. Then she wouldn’t be disappointed when he left. It was all a matter of expectations, she told herself, and he’d let her know right up front where her expectations should be.

Careful not to wake him, she slid out of bed to use the bathroom. But as soon as she’d washed her hands, she heard a knock at the front door.

“Eve! You’re never going to believe what I found.”

This time it wasn’t her parents. Thank God. But she wasn’t any happier to have Ted show up at her house right now, while Brent was in her bed. Not after he’d asked Chief Bennett to run the license number on the Land Rover. She didn’t think Brent would appreciate Ted’s involvement. And she didn’t want Ted to know she’d ignored his warning about Brent. That would only invite more doubt and speculation by her friends.

“Don’t tell me it’s your parents,” Brent mumbled as she grabbed her robe.

“No, it’s a friend. Go back to sleep.”

“Just a second,” she called to Ted. They knew each other well enough that she was worried he might retrieve the key from under the mat and let himself in before she was ready to greet him. Since he used to come here and sleep with her himself, he knew where it was. She should’ve found a new hiding place for the sake of privacy, if for no other reason. When she finally opened the door, he scowled at her. “You’re not dressed? It’s after ten!”

“Last I checked, Monday was my day off. Sunday
and
Monday, remember?”

“Oh, right. But even if you’re not going to work, you’re usually up early.”

That was when she managed to get some sleep. Recently, she’d been too busy with Brent. But Ted didn’t seem to realize she had company and, when she looked down the drive, she could understand why. His Land Rover was nowhere in sight. He probably hadn’t wanted her parents to see it, so he’d parked some distance away and walked back.