I rabbit back a little more, then trip and tumble down. Another step closer. I kick out with one foot.
“Stay back!” I shriek, flopping back on my butt, trying to get my feet under me. I hear a car coming up the drive, I realize.
Oh, thank God. Landon.
He's home just in time. I manage to grapple upright again and put a few more feet of distance between myself and this silent, staring man.
“Wh-what do you want?” I try to draw myself up, finding courage in the approaching engine grumble. “I’m not afraid of you!”
Ugh. Clearly a lie, and I also sound like I'm twelve.
Then the man stiffens, looking sharply over my shoulder as a car door slams, ready to take off.
I smile triumphantly, lifting my chin. Yeah, jerk-face, you'd better run.
“Really now,” a strange voice says. “Is this appropriate behavior toward a lady?”
It belongs to another stranger. Not Landon.
All right.
I admit it.
I scream again. This time, bloody glass-breaking murder.
And it’s like the sound repels the man in the hoodie. He's gone like a leaping gunshot; he turns and bolts, while I’m almost on his heels.
I’ve had enough of strange men sneaking up on me for one day. Something boils up in me, and I still don't know if I'm chasing him or just fleeing in the same direction.
I tumble against the side of the house, skittering away from the new voice, and catch a glimpse of a tall blond man in a perfectly pressed suit before I collapse against the wall and lean over my knees, practically hyperventilating.
“Oh God. Oh, God.”
Threat number one disappears.
I need a minute before I can assess if this new man is threat two, or just the lucky break I needed today.
My chest hurts, my heart is racing so fast. I take several gulping breaths, trying to calm myself. The blond man leans in, trying to catch my eye.
He’s tall, handsome, clean-cut, with a neatly trimmed beard and hazel eyes that darken with worry, his movements polite and restrained.
Not going to lie, he makes me feel a lot safer than that freak in a hoodie.
“Are you all right?” he asks gently. “I take it you didn’t know that man.”
“N-no, no idea, I...” Breathe.
Breathe, McKenna. I press my face against my palms, inhale, exhale, try again.
“He was skulking around in the bushes outside the kitchen window.” I’m trying to get my scattered thoughts together, to think logically. “I should call the police.”
“You should sit down and catch your breath, first. Here.” He opens the kitchen door like he has some odd familiarity with this house. As if he’s been here before, often enough to seem casual and easy. “This way.”
I balk, eyeing him. “Who are you?”
“Dallas Reese, an old friend of Landon's. Miss...?”
The familiar name instantly shocks me from my wary tension. I stare. “Wait. You’re Dallas Reese?”
It's like a hammer hits me between the eyes.
Sweet Jesus. If there was anything Landon and I talked about more than the stars and my brother and high school, it was Dallas. The kid he grew up hating, before I probably took his place. All the dirty tricks the boys would play on each other when they were working with their fathers at the firm. Micah Strauss and Dallas' father, Reg, were business partners.
Dallas, in the flesh, blinks mildly. “You’ve heard of me?” There's a crinkle of amusement in his tone.
I'm not sure it's warranted just yet.
“I’m Kenna Burke,” I venture, wondering if he’s heard of me.
His expression clears. He smiles. It’s warm, reassuring. He has the air of a quiet, sincere man, and I can’t help thinking he and Dallas have both grown up in very different ways.
“Reb,” he says, and that’s how I know he’s legit. No one who didn’t know Landon would know that nickname. He laughs. “Landon would go on about you, yes.”
“Oh. He did?” For some reason, my heart keeps pounding.
“I dare say the boy was smitten.” He chuckles wryly. “Doubt he said such kind things about me.”
I rub the back of my neck, wincing. “Um. Let’s just say you weren’t his favorite person growing up. Hopefully it's better now.”
“Boyhood rivalries,” he says, his princely nose tilting up in the air with fond nostalgia. “With our fathers working together, we both wanted to be the crown prince of Crown Security. Pardon the pun. We were always striving to outdo each other for our fathers’ approval.” His amusement fades, regret coloring his eyes and darkening his brow. “Terrible shame, what happened to Micah.”
“Yeah.” I bite my lip, glancing at the door he’s holding for me, then step inside and turn to walk backwards so I can watch him as he steps inside. I hate to say it, but I feel safer having someone Landon knows here, someone who’s familiar at least by proxy, even if he’s a stranger to me.
“Listen, Dallas, Landon’s not back from Sonoma. Not yet. I'm just house-sitting for him.” And doing a crappy job of it, I add to myself, without saying it.
“It’s perfectly fine. No worries, Miss Burke.” Dallas closes and securely locks the kitchen door, then taps the alarm code on the panel next to it – Christ, Landon let him have the alarm code? “He’s expecting me, if you don’t mind me waiting. Rather important business.”
“Oh, um...no, of course that’s fine.” This isn’t my house, I shouldn’t be inviting people in...but right now, I don’t want to be alone. I step deeper into the kitchen, and pull open the fridge. “Make yourself at home, and I'll grab you a drink. Any favorites?”
*
Landon’s late, and I feel weird.
Maybe it was sharing a drink with Dallas like I have any right to play hostess here.
Maybe it was leaving him alone downstairs after he shooed me off and told me I didn’t have to treat him like a guest, acting like it’s okay for me to leave random people to fend for themselves in Landon’s home. But I didn’t know what to say to him, either, and he seemed totally happy snagging a book off the shelf and settling in.
Or, you know, maybe it’s the whole creeper in a hood incident.
Yeah. Definitely the creeper in a hood.
Even if I almost feel a little silly for how much I freaked out. He hadn’t tried to attack me, after all. Just stood there in broad daylight.
If I’d run at him, he’d probably have taken off. Just some asshole playing a prank, I'm sure, after Landon no doubt chased so many people off his property. I smile, my mind flashing back to our reunion, the pent up, turbo-sexy flash of fists and violent ink I saw on my doorstep that morning we met like strangers.
Except no stranger ever showed up to greet me with his haunting blue eyes, his muscles, his scowl, and that unwavering, mad thing between us we still don't say out loud.
Still. Back to tonight. I panicked and cut off my only avenue of safety, didn't I?
I let a freaking stranger into the house.
That could’ve been serious. Even if he's someone Landon knows.
He'll find out about Reese, sure, but maybe I won’t tell Landon about Mr. Hoodie. Not unless Reese blabs first.
After calming myself down, washing off, changing, and settling my nerves, I’m upstairs on the deck, Velvet and Mews nestled against my hip on the long patio swing, when I hear the grumbling roar of Landon’s car coming down the lane.
I won’t lie. I’m relieved.
Even with Dallas downstairs, entertaining himself in the living room, I don’t quite feel safe until I know Landon’s familiar presence will be here.
I can’t believe he still has the old Impala. He used to be such a Jensen Ackles fanboy, even if you’ll never get him to admit it out loud.
For a moment I can’t help smiling with a fond pang of memory. The growl of the Impala suits the beast he is now, but it’s the fact that he’s kept it all this time that makes me think he’s still got something of the old Landon in him.
The old Landon who used to talk to me about the stars, a long time ago.
While he hung out with Steve, I’d be sprawled out on the back porch writing fan fiction.