Justice cleared his throat. “You look nice with your hair down.”
“That’s what I told her,” Brand said. Then bold as you please, he walked over and gave her a kiss. “I’ll put on more coffee. Why don’t you guys come into the kitchen so Sahara can finish up?”
“Wait,” Sahara said. “They’re here for a reason, right?”
“I don’t know.” Brand looked at them. “Something up?”
Leese shook off the stupor. “Yeah, actually. We have something to share.”
“Should have waited until she made it to the office, though,” Miles said. “I told them that, but did they listen?”
“Apparently not.” Sahara strode around the living room snatching up articles of clothing—including her bra and panties, which, thankfully, were with her dress over the back of a chair rather than on the floor. She planned to wear the same shoes, so she stepped into them. “Give me thirty seconds before anyone says anything. And, Justice, would you let Enoch know I’m going to be a few minutes late?”
“Sure thing.”
“You’re the best.” She hustled down the hall to the bedroom, dumping the clothes inside. Going into the bathroom and bending at the waist, she flipped her hair forward, secured it with a band, and then twisted it around to form a casual chignon. She slipped in earrings, gave her makeup one last look and joined the men.
Brand was looking at something on Leese’s laptop and she gasped. “You started without me!”
Brand pulled out a chair for her and handed her coffee. “It’s photos from the security cam at your house.”
“It dawned on me,” Justice said, “that I might find some footage of those landscapers.”
“Did you?” She hurriedly gazed at the laptop. All she saw was the back of a head.
“That’s the thing.” Leese crowded in next to Brand and rolled several photos past the screen.
Sahara frowned. The back of a head, back of a head, arm up blocking the face, head down and turned away and another back of the head. “It’s almost as if they knew where the cameras were and avoided them.”
“Exactly.” Miles helped himself to coffee. “Every shot’s like that.”
“The big question, then, is do you know them?”
She shook her head at Justice. “It’s hard to judge body size, but I don’t think it’s the men who took me. None of them are big enough to be the main guy, and the others just seem wrong.”
Brand said, “You transferred those photos to her?”
“Yeah. They’ll be in her files, waiting for her.” Leese closed the laptop. “I sent them to you, too, Brand. The two of you can maybe enhance them, blow them up a little, whatever.”
Justice finished his coffee. “You coming to the office now?”
She glanced at Brand. “I’m ready.” But what would he be doing for the day? “What about you?”
“I have some errands to run. I’ll be back in time for lunch if you’re free.”
Just that easily, he brightened her morning. Amazing that the idea of lunch with a man—a man she’d slept with last night and again this morning—could make her so happy. “Come with me to the office and we’ll ask Enoch.”
At the office, the other men splintered off, Miles and Leese with assignments, Justice with time to hit the range and work out. After Enoch told her she had time for lunch at noon, Brand still followed her into her office, waiting until Enoch finished going over the day’s appointments for her.
Once they were alone, Brand said, “About that party this Saturday.”
“You’ve changed your mind? You don’t want to go now?”
“You leap to the oddest assumptions.”
It didn’t seem all that odd to her. Brand had been furious about her making arrangements with Becky—and he didn’t even know the whole of it. “Sorry. What about it?”
“How fancy will it be?”
A new thought occurred to her. “If you need me to buy you a suit—”
His finger pressed to her lips. “One, I own several suits. Two, even if I didn’t, I sure as hell wouldn’t let you buy one for me. Three, I just need to know if we’re talking dress casual, a suit or a tux.”
Sahara stared up at him, waiting for him to remove his finger so she could reply.
Instead, he traced her lips, then bent to kiss her. It was a brief, gentle touch, and it stole her breath away.
“What’s it to be?” he asked.
“Do you own a tux?”
He grinned. “No, but I know how to rent one.”
She smoothed her hands over his shirt. He looked very handsome in the black shirt, a brown cargo jacket over it. He still hadn’t shaved, but she liked the rugged look on him. “I’ll certainly dress up, as I suspect most of the women will.” She loved dressing in her finest clothes. “But you’ll be fine in either dress casual or a suit. Up to you. Douglas Grant wears suits every day as the DA, so for parties he’s usually pretty casual. When it comes to the men, I wouldn’t be surprised to see some of them in jeans.”
“I’ll find some middle ground, then.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “You’re going to be here all day?”
“Yes. But eventually I’ll need to get back to my house to pick out my clothes and shoes and jewelry.”
“I’ll go with you for that.”
“It should be fine now—”
He cupped her face. “I’ll go with you.”
“All right. I’d like that.”
After one more touch of his mouth to hers, Brand stepped away. “See you for lunch.”
Oh, how she loved the progress with her relationship.
She watched Brand leave, then moved to her desk and called for Enoch. He’d be able to locate a stylist willing to do a house call for Becky.
After she got that done, she’d fit in some online shopping. If she couldn’t take Becky to the stores, she’d have to bring the stores to Becky.
One way or another, she was determined to help Brand.
And to do that, she had to help his mother to get on with her life.
*
THE LAST FEW days of the week went by in a happy blur. Brand had lunch with her twice, and each night they enjoyed dinner together. Between them they came up with meal plans that were both delicious and semihealthy. Brand hadn’t yet committed to a fight, but neither had he committed to Body Armor.
She was a little afraid to press him, which was totally unlike her. Her true nature was full-steam ahead, but for the first time in her life, she felt...tentative.
Her time with Brand was so good she didn’t want to rock the boat.
Of course, when he saw his mother, the boat might not only rock, it could capsize.
The stylist had visited Becky and done an amazing job. Her hair had stunning highlights and a new cut that better suited the shape of her face. Her new makeup showcased all her best features, features she shared with her son, like her dark eyes, long lashes and high cheekbones.
In the middle of an important meeting Sahara had gotten first one text, then another and another, all of them selfies from a very pleased Becky. The clothes had arrived, too. Becky was disappointed that they couldn’t go out to shop, but still overjoyed with what Sahara had chosen for her. In one of the photos, Sahara could see that Becky wore a new outfit.
Sahara knew she had good taste, and she was a decent judge of character, so she’d pegged Becky as someone who would react positively to gifts that showed off her figure and made her feel more like a desirable woman.
Not that she’d discuss it with Brand. No, a son wouldn’t want to think that way about his mother—especially a mostly estranged mother.
She was determined that she’d visit with Becky again, but first she wanted to enjoy her hectic weekend.
She’d just closed out her computer when Brand stuck his head in the door.
“Enoch said you were done for the day.”
“Enoch is always correct,” she replied, already coming out from behind her desk. She paused to stretch her aching shoulders. “I’ve finally gone through every contact I could find associated with my brother.”
“And?” Brand turned her and began gently kneading the tensed muscles in her neck and shoulders.
Sahara tipped her head back, eyes closed. “Nothing. I couldn’t find a single man who even resembled my kidnapper.”