Chapter 11
Sophie nearly collapsed. Marc ran around the house and took her inside. Nick understood the no drama thing clearly wasn’t working. He knew the driver was also an enforcer, even wore the military shades and even with the little he watched him move he knew the man had some serious training. Probably ex-military.
“I’m not happy with this turn of events,” he mumbled under his breath. He scanned the area to his right, looking to see if he could locate a black vehicle making its way to the property next door, but he saw nothing.
“Sophie never told me much about her neighbor, except that there were some disputes. The guy used to run his tractor over part of her property and had the gall to keep moving the fence inside her property line every time he went back to “repair” his mistake.”
“I know fighting him cost her money,” Devon continued. “Surveyors and engineers aren’t cheap. And she doesn’t trust real estate attorneys.
“So that’s one of the first thing we’re going to do, make sure the fences are on the property line. Think we can hire an engineer to get this done fast?”
“Our office uses one who seems pretty good. I’ll call him and ask. Cost is an issue, Nick.”
“Not really. Sophie’s not paying for this. I am.”
“Let me share in the cost, Nick. I can afford it.”
Her offer bothered him. His hands immediately went into fists as he realized she probably made more money than he did. He’d always told himself that was no problem. Wasn’t what he did his job for, but today it kind of sucked.
He had to work on himself to soften his tone, but it came out a little bitter anyway. “No, Devon. When I say I’ll pay for it, that’s what I mean. Don’t question me about something like this.”
He finally looked at her face and, yes, he could see she was grappling with what he said. She took several deep breaths and crossed her arms, but remained a bit out of arm’s reach.
“Sorry, Dev—on. Didn’t mean to offend you. It was a nice offer.” Inside, he was wincing. This being nice thing, while it was the right thing to do, was eating at him a bit.
Maybe it was because he cared about what she was feeling right now.
In a moment that he knew would feel like some kind of bridge crossed, she said the perfect thing.
“Then, Mr. Tough Guy, I pay for dinner tonight. And I’m not backing down on that one, sailor.”
While Devon was checking on Sophie, Nick had a private talk with Marc.
“This is all f*cked up, Nick.”
“Sorry, wished I’d known about all this sooner. I apologize for getting you involved in this mess.”
“Like always, the messes you get in are my messes too. Not sayin’ I don’t tend to aggravate it a bit.” Marc’s smile was the thing that got him all the attention. That, and his stunning physical condition. He knew Marc had formed some sort of attachment with Sophie, which would have been a no-no at any other time. Most Team guys guarded their sisters around their friends like guarding Fort Knox. But this was different.
“That aggravation happen to have hair falling out and sleeps a lot?”
“You got it. She’s an incredible woman. And I know the rules. No problem there.”
“Not sure in this situation, if there are any rules anymore. Except I don’t want her heart broken.”
“I got you. No worries. We’ve snuggled and fooled around a bit. The woman wants to feel like a woman and not some piece of—sorry, Nick. I just—”
Nick punched him in the arm. His eyes had teared up. “Hey, I’m just glad you’re here. Gives me a little alone time with Dev.”
“She’s off the charts, Nick. And she has the hots for you something fierce. Better slow down or that complication could come at the wrong time, get my drift?”
“Can’t. I don’t think I can stop it now.”
Marc returned a slow glance. Yeah, his buddy knew what was going on inside him. Men don’t talk about their feelings, but the look they shared was completely understood. When a man starts to feel territorial over a woman, it means he’s beginning to think of sacrifice and willing to become something he wasn’t before. That’s a big step, especially for an elite warrior. Nick knew he had all the symptoms of falling in love.
Marc punched his shoulder. “Well, good luck with that, Nick.”
They went outside to organize last minute details so the team could get it all done tomorrow.
Their attention was sidetracked to a noisy old Toyota driving up the road. The light green dented and faded paint reminded Nick of Gunny’s old beater 4-door ex-Parks Department truck back in Coronado. Fredo had one just like it.
A very rotund woman barely five feet tall and nearly that wide extricated herself with difficulty from the car. Nick ran over to be of assistance, but got hit in the chest with her Playmate lunch pail, and it smarted.
“I’m Emma. I’m your hostage nurse,” she said in broken English. Her dark skin and face identified her as a Pacific Islander. Marc was smirking with the misspoken word.
“Hostage? You take hostages here?” Marc said.
“Hossss-piss!” she corrected herself.
“Welcome, Emma. I’ll take you inside and introduce you to Sophie.”
Nick gripped her lunch pail as he watched the old Toyota barrel back down the driveway. Opening Sophie’s door, he found Devon curled up next to his sister, both of them sound asleep. Sophie had her arm around Devon like she was the healer and Devon was the patient.
“Sophie,” Nick whispered as he came over to the side of the bed. “Emma is here,” he said to her dull eyes. Then recognition flooded her face and she stirred, waking Devon.
Nick studied Devon as she sat up, tried to put her hair into a clip and rose to stretch. Her soft gaze fell on his waist and traveled lazily up his chest to meet his eyes. He felt all the spark and excitement he’d felt as a boy going to Disneyland. He’d never wanted anyone so much in his entire life.
“I’m your hossss-pisss nurse, Sophie. My name is Emma,” the woman barked.
Sophie struggled to sit up further on the bed. Marc was at her side to pull out the pillows and reset them behind her back.
“Nice to meet you, Emma.” She turned to the three of them. “You guys get out of here now. I’d like to take a shower, if you don’t mind, and I don’t want any curious onlookers.” She raised and lowered her eyebrows, finishing on Marc.
“All right. Let’s do what the lady says,” said Marc.
They closed the door behind them as they walked out. Standing in the middle of the living room with Devon, Nick was sure Marc could feel the intense attraction between the two of them, and Marc confirmed it by excusing himself to go outside. Just before he got through the door, Nick called to him.
“You okay if Devon and I go for some dinner?”
“No. Knock yourselves out.” Marc saluted, winked and was gone.
“I’d like to freshen up,” Devon said to him, her eyes moist and searching.
“I’d like to help you do it, Dev—on.”
“You have to wait. You can use the shower after me.”
“What about Sophie?” Nick asked.
“There’s another shower in the office. I’m going to go use that one.” She stepped to him and let her hands travel up his chest. “You’ll have to wait until I’m finished. Then you can shower. We’ll have dinner, and then let’s see what happens.”
He bent down and kissed her, clutching her hair in his fingers as he held the back of her head. Holding her face between his palms he whispered hoarsely, “Can’t wait.”
It was awkward driving in the Hummer with the center console between them, but Nick figured it also heightened the anticipation. They held hands like they’d been doing it for years, he thought. He liked her relaxed style, when she revealed it. But he also liked her strong side. That was what was new for him. He almost liked her strong side better.
He’d nearly begged her to cancel the dinner plans and go off with him someplace where they had a roaring fireplace and a big bed. She’d stepped outside, ready to go. She had on little dangle earrings, a low-cut simple black dress that fit all her curves and showed off her flat tummy. The dress came just above the knee, so her long legs tempted his soul. She wore more makeup. She smelled great.
Best of all, she’d dressed up for him.
The bumpy ride made the tops of her breasts bounce and he managed to steal a few peeks. He’d adjusted his position several times but his little brain was doing cartwheels and poking him in the gut with pitchforks. Her bright red lips smiled one time when she caught him.
She directed him to the garage next to her choice of restaurant, a new Tuscan/American bistro. After parking, he got to her door just before she managed to finish her exit.
“This is my job,” he whispered as he lifted her down, conveniently forgetting the plastic step he didn’t take out so he could hold her tiny waist and let her slide down his body. She didn’t weigh anything at all so he drew it out as long as he could and she didn’t squirm to be released any sooner. Her face was flushed when he set her on her feet.
So far so good.
Devon obviously wasn’t used to being waited on, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why no one was around her to do it. She tucked under his arm easily as they walked to the restaurant in silence. It was beginning to feel like it would be the longest meal of his life.
Inside the place, a gentle samba was playing. With the tall ceilings and bright artwork everywhere, it felt like an upscale gallery, except for the smell of food and the hickory from the wood-fired pizza oven. They were ushered to a table for two in front of a raised fireplace hearth. The waiter removed the “reserved” sign and scurried off.
“Nice,” he said as he held out his hands and she placed hers inside. He rubbed them with his thumbs and fingers as he watched the fire dance in her eyes. Her breathing was erratic and she swallowed a lot. She was nervous too.
“So, you help me order. What’s good here, Devon?”
They opened their menus.
“Anything. It’s all good. I usually have the Mediterranean chicken. Comes with garlic mashed potatoes.”
The waiter stepped up and reminded them of a couple of appetizer specials. “We have Hog Island oysters tonight, very lightly salted and sprinkled with mango salsa.”
Devon looked up at him and blushed.
“You want some?” he asked, returning a smile.
“Whatever you like. Remember, I’m buying.”
“Sort of feel like a kept man.” He meant it as a joke, but her eyes turned to lead and her smile evaporated. She lowered the menu and leaned back in her chair.
“A few minutes please,” she said to the waiter. She gulped some water and leaned forward on her forearms. “So, just to clear the air here, you are not a kept man, and I resent any inferences to that effect. I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for Sophie.”
Of course, she hadn’t said she was doing it for her either. And that weighed on him.
The old fear came back. God, I’ve blown it.
She was gulping her water, chewing ice. Yup, she was still nervous. Angry? He tilted his head and examined her. He wondered if it was smart, but he needed to stand up to her or he’d never forgive himself. If there was anything but three more dates and a funeral scene in their future, he’d have to take this opportunity to tell her the truth.
“Devon, some day you’re going to have to trust someone. I just hope you make the right choice, because your radar is all bass-ackwards.”
She started a reflexive glare and then stopped herself.
“I’d never do anything to belittle you, hurt you or want to cause you any kind of pain. But you’re going to have to give me the benefit of the doubt and quit judging me like I’m some ogre with malfeasance on his brain. You’re a lovely lady, but no honorable man appreciates having his intentions questioned, his words dissected or his mannerisms criticized.”
He wasn’t sure she’d gotten the message. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he’d delivered it clearly enough. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to get across, actually.
The silence between them was killing him. He wasn’t going to tone down his statements, though. She’d have to take the whole enchilada or—Or what? He could tell she was struggling with something internal. After a big sigh, she answered him.
“I apologize,” she said curtly. Almost too neat. Those red lips were calling him in the worst way. Maybe she was a little more fun when she was angry, but f*ck, it wasn’t the way he was supposed to act around a lady. Wasn’t fair to her. It wasn’t what he wanted.
In her occasionally miraculous way, she broke the ice, and he was grateful for it.
“So you won’t misinterpret my intentions then?” He could see she was trying to be very proper. No smile on that flawless face. Did he see something devilish lurking there? Or was he seeing what he wanted to see? Her dark eyes and lush lashes glistened in the dimly lighted room.
He decided to play along. “What intentions?”
“I want you to start with the oysters.”