Stealing Home

chapter 11



MARK GLANCED AGAIN across the center console to where Lorelei sat silently. Her words echoed hauntingly in his head. You just killed a girl.

What the hell had she meant by that?

He had no idea and it ate at him, made him second-guess himself. Had she actually had a good reason for stealing from him? Uncomfortable with the idea that he might have been wrong about the situation, Mark had agreed to drive her to her place. Not that he was leaving her there. He wasn’t letting his lucky charm out of his sight . . . again.

He’d agreed to it for the simple reason that he was curious about her. About her life, her home—who she really was.

Early that morning he’d had her Honda Civic brought to his building and had spent half an hour going through it looking for his lucky charm. He hadn’t been the least bit surprised the car was littered with empty to-go coffee cups. He’d also found wadded-up receipts, junk mail, and a few candy bars stashed in the glove box.

But nothing good, no lucky cross. A few pens, a small bottle of perfume that smelled terrific, and some CDs. Just enough to whet his curiosity.

He wanted to know more.

Mark knew better than most people that first impressions could be misleading. And he’d be the first to admit he was wrong—if he was, in fact, wrong.

Past experience with the fairer sex had taught him one important thing: There was always a secret motive. His joke of a marriage had taught him that. No woman had come close to touching his heart since he’d handed it over to Dina like an idiot and watched her spit on it. He’d been young and stupid then.

He wasn’t stupid anymore. He had his own secrets to keep. Being damn near illiterate from dyslexia wasn’t exactly something he went around bragging about.

Lorelei moved in the gray leather seat and turned her head to face him. She’d showered and changed before they’d left and was wearing a sexy black camisole. It dipped low across her chest, and the deep groove of her cleavage was visible.

He knew how that exposed skin felt. How soft and smooth it was. And he knew how it tasted.

Feeling himself grow hard, Mark frowned and cleared his throat. He needed a distraction. “So, we’re going to Loveland. Did you grow up there?”

He glanced over at her. She’d done something with makeup and her eyes were smoky and soft. The expression in them wasn’t. Lorelei was still mad at him. “I’ve never lived anywhere else. In fact, I’m still in the same house I grew up in. Only without my parents.”

Mark smiled and flicked on his blinker to switch lanes. He was tired of poking behind Grandpa Jones on the interstate. “Where are they now?”

“Dead.”

Shit. That was awkward. “I’m sorry, hon.”

She just shrugged and looked out the window. “They died almost ten years ago in a barn fire. I lost my sister, Lucy, too. She died when I was twelve.”

Oh God. So much loss. What could he say to that? Were there any words good enough?

There was nothing. So he said instead, though he gave her hand a quick, reassuring squeeze, “That must be nice, being in the same house. Lots of great childhood memories.”

“It has its moments.” She speared him with a glance. “Your sister’s accent is much stronger than yours. Have you worked at losing it?”

So she’d noticed he had an accent. Huh. It didn’t even register with him anymore. “Nah, I’m proud of the little town I grew up in. It’s just that I got drafted to the major leagues straight out of high school and have been moving all over ever since.”

Lorelei turned until she was sideways in the seat facing him, one leg tucked under the other. “How small a town was it?”

“Three thousand people or so.”

“Is Leslie your only sibling?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you really have a girlfriend?”

Caught off guard, Mark let out a surprised laugh. He knew she’d ask sooner or later. It’d probably been bugging the hell out of her. He liked that she wanted to know. And it irritated him that he liked her wanting to know.

She nudged his shoulder. “So, do you?”

He could tease her, string out the suspense, drive her nuts. He found himself answering instead, “Do you really think I’d try to get down your pants if I had a woman?”

She didn’t even hesitate. “Absolutely.”

Ouch. Though he supposed he deserved that, it still ticked him off that she believed those things. It just showed how little Lorelei knew him.

“You forget I’ve heard about your reputation, Mark. I know that fidelity is not your strong suit,” she said.

Bullshit. Irritation welled inside him and he shot out, “Did my ex-wife tell you that?” He swore when she nodded. “For your information, sweetheart, I wasn’t the one who had problems with monogamy.”

“She cheated on you?”

A tic started below his right eye. It always happened when he thought too much about his marriage to Dina.

That’s why he didn’t think about it.

Until Lorelei Littleton had crashed into his life, he’d managed to avoid thinking about the unfaithful, two-faced money-grubber altogether. Now even the presence of Lorelei was directly related to Dina, and so was his missing cross. It was a hard pill to swallow. He didn’t like that those two were connected, didn’t like the taint it put on things. The history he shared with his ex held lots of ugly emotions and was full of manipulation and greed. All on her part. He didn’t want that brushing up against Lorelei. Though he wasn’t sure why, he just knew it didn’t sit right and he wanted her untangled from Dina’s web soon.

A memory came to him suddenly of a fight they’d had shortly before their divorce. He’d been getting ready to head out for a game and was in the bedroom getting dressed. Just as he’d finished and was grabbing his bag, she’d strutted through the door, fresh from the spa. He could tell where she’d been by the makeup job and new blond hair color.

There’d been no greeting or affection. No kiss or hug hello. Just an accusatory “You didn’t put enough money in my account. You did that on purpose, didn’t you? I want to go shopping. Nordstrom’s is having a sale and I want new boots.”

He’d glanced at her across the room, noted that she looked one step away from eating-disorder thin again. It’d been a line she’d struggled not to cross ever since he’d known her. “I just put five grand in there two days ago, D.”

She’d turned to him, her hands bunched in fists at her side. “It wasn’t enough, okay? God, why do you always scrutinize me? Don’t you want me to look good? Be happy?” She’d crossed her arms and glared, her blue eyes frigid. “You always belittle me. You’re such an a*shole.”

It was the same old mantra he’d been hearing for three years. He was mean. He was unfair. He treated her bad. He didn’t love her enough to buy her all the things that made her happy.

Truth was, the only bad thing he’d done was marry her. “If I’m such an a*shole, then divorce me.” He was tired of being her whipping boy.

She hadn’t liked hearing that. In a fit of temper she’d grabbed a vase full of flowers off the dresser next to her and hurled it at him, screaming, “I hate you!”

He’d dodged the vase, and the brush, the picture frame, and the candle. It hadn’t been the first time she’d thrown shit at him. Over it, he’d grabbed his bag and strode toward the door, his face set in stone.

As he passed her on the way, she’d clamped a hand around his arm, her acrylic nails digging in like talons. He’d stared straight ahead as she’d hissed, “You stupid jock. One of these days you’re going to pay for the way you treat me. I know how to hurt you.”

He shook his head to clear the memory and felt his lips press in a tight line. She’d had a way all right.

A small, warm hand slid across his thigh and came to rest on his knee, leaving a tingling trail in its wake. His muscles jerked to attention and his hands gripped hard on the steering wheel of the Rover until the knuckles turned white.

“I didn’t know, Mark. I’m sorry. I hope you can understand why I believed her, though. You’ve got a pretty notorious reputation with the ladies.”

His gut felt sour all of a sudden. His reputation had never bothered him much before, but hearing Lorelei talk about him like that pissed him off. “I suppose you believe everything you’ve heard, too, don’t you? Did you ever stop to consider maybe it was all horse shit?”

Mark felt her eyes on him. “You’re denying it? That you’ve had sex in nearly every U.S. state, that you’re particularly fond of strippers?”

Oh, that just capped it. Frustration bit into him with vicious teeth. “Damn it, Lorelei. I’m a guy. I’ve had sex, all right? Lots of it. But I sure as hell don’t play baseball just so I can screw women in every major city. And if you believe that load of bull about me having a thing for strip joints and cheap women, then I’ve given you too much credit.”

All was quiet for a moment after his outburst, then she said, “How can you expect me to believe anything else, Mark, when you behaved exactly like your reputation said you would on the night we met?”

That deflated him. She was right. Absolutely, completely, one hundred percent right. And he didn’t like what that said about him one bit.

LORELEI STUDIED MARK as they drove up the interstate toward Loveland. She’d never seen him genuinely upset. But she was seeing it now. His brows were pulled together in a deep scowl, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his hands had a death grip on the wheel.

She had a feeling it wasn’t too often that he had to account for his actions. Gut checks were few and far between for men like him. Successful, self-absorbed, attractive men in the prime of their life who had just about everything given to them on a silver platter.

Normally she couldn’t stand people like that. And for good reason. While they were out in the world living only for themselves, people like her brother, Logan, were swimming in grief, working themselves to death just trying to take care of everyone around them. Trying to find a way to save the life of someone they loved more than themselves.

Heck, he wore her yearly salary on his wrist. No wonder she’d stolen from him.

The turnoff to her house came into view and Lorelei straightened in her seat. “You need to take this exit.”

“We’re not to town yet.”

A wave of irritation washed over her. “I don’t live in town, I live over there.” She shoved her arm in front of him and pointed out the driver side window. It would do him some good to see how real people lived.

Mark slowed and made the turn off the interstate onto the two-lane road. A smattering of snow covered the ditch on either side from a late season storm. It had melted off the road though, leaving the pavement clear and dry.

Ahead the Rocky Mountains rose, imposing and impossibly beautiful, their snowy peaks sparkling in the sun. Though they’d been driving parallel to them for almost an hour, the dramatic impact of them hadn’t been as strong. Not like it was now. Now they were simply magnificent.

The silence stretched between them as they passed small farms and ranches with pastures full of cattle and horses. Lorelei watched a man bundled in a thick flannel jacket toss hay to a line of waiting, mooing cattle from the back of his flatbed truck as it idled along. A young boy sat behind the wheel, his fresh face beaming beneath his cap as he enjoyed the thrill of driving the ranch truck for his dad. Both dad and son waved as they drove by, and her heart squeezed. With a smile she waved back.

They came to a cross in the road and Mark slowed to a stop. “Which way?”

She could see the elms that lined the long driveway just around the bend. “Take a left. You can see the driveway just past the hay field over there.”

“I see it.” He made the turn and steered the Range Rover to the driveway, slowing, and turned onto the gravel road. “I never would have guessed you grew up in the country.”

“That’s because you don’t know me.”

The old white farmhouse came into view as they meandered down the long drive, and joy leaped inside her at the sight. She glanced at Mark to gauge his reaction. How would he respond to the peeling paint on the house and barn? Would he turn up his nose at the rusted brown Dodge truck in the driveway? What about the old tire swing that hung from the towering oak over by the garden? His face didn’t reveal a thing.

As soon as he came to a stop behind her brother’s extended cab truck, Lorelei flung the door open, grabbed her laptop and duffel, and leaped from the SUV. Just as the front screen door slammed open and her brother stepped out onto the porch. Little Michelle was riding on his hip, her brown ringlets pulled into pigtails, a Dora the Explorer doll clutched to her chest. When she spotted Lorelei she smiled, let out a squeal, and kicked her legs wildly.

Logan tipped up his cowboy hat and scowled at the shiny Range Rover, his gaze traveling slowly over the luxury SUV until they settled on her. He cocked a Wrangler-clad hip and tapped his cowboy boot against the wood boards of the porch. “Where the hell have you been, Lorelei?”

Her heart soared and she felt a grin split her face.

It was good to be home.