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Close Contact
Close Contact
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Close Contact

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It would be nice to know what he was thinking, but instead she asked, “Should we make a list of what we need?”

“I already did.”

“When?”

“While you were in the shower. I found a pen and paper in your study.”

He hadn’t left her. He’d stayed right there, very close, as promised.

It was ridiculous to react, given nothing had happened; she’d finished her shower without a single disturbance.

But knowing that she could trust him not to budge mattered. A lot. “It’s too bad we couldn’t find what we needed in the little town closer by.”

“I had to come this way for my stuff anyway. We’ll go to my apartment last, then head back to your house. I should still have time to get a few things set up.”

“How extensive is our list? I know you mentioned locks and a security camera.”

“I’m thinking several, actually. Someone is sneaking onto your property. I want to know who.”

“How do you think they’re getting in?”

“No idea. But that reminds me. I called my friend Leese.”

“Who?”

“Leese Phelps. He used to be a fighter, too, but he was the first one to move to Body Armor. It seems to be a good fit for him.”

“You called him while I was in the shower?”

“Yeah. I explained your situation. Thought it couldn’t hurt to get an unbiased perspective on things.”

Meaning he considered his own perspective biased—because they’d slept together?

Embarrassment disturbed her peaceful moment. His friend probably thought she was crazy or, like Miles, assumed she’d been drunk and imagined it all. “Aren’t you the busy beaver.”

After putting the last fry in his mouth, Miles said, “You were only a few feet away, buck naked and wet. It seemed like a good idea to keep busy.”

Maxi blinked at him, the embarrassment forgotten. He kept saying things that she didn’t know how to take. Was he mad at her or not? Did he want her as much as she wanted him?

Or were comments like that supposed to be jokes?

Since she didn’t have any answers, she steered the topic back to his friend. “What did Leese have to say?”

“He took it seriously, if that’s what you’re asking. You’d have to know Leese. He was made for this shit. Being analytical about danger suits him way better than professional fighting ever did.”

“So he made suggestions?”

Miles nodded. “I’ll get security lights put up today, enough to light up the barn and down to the pond. Anyone sneaking around will be easily seen. I’ll add extra locks to the windows and doors—anywhere someone might be able to get in. Oh, and we’ll throw out all your food, especially your wine.”

“Throw out all my food?”

“Well, I’m not eating it. Think about it. If what you told me was accurate—”

Accurate? At least he hadn’t outright accused her of lying.

“—then someone might’ve drugged whatever you ate or drank. I assume you don’t want to chance it?”

“Of course not.” Now she couldn’t even trust her food? “How would someone have—”

“No idea how it works. Leese is looking into it for me. By the way, he and Justice might come out tomorrow.”

She was just about to take her last bite of hamburger when he said that. “Tomorrow?” She lowered the burger. “To my farmhouse?”

“Yeah. Leese trained me for Body Armor, and Justice is great with security systems. Assuming you can afford a decent one, he’ll help with that. I know what to buy, and how to set it up, but again, it’s good to have fresh eyes looking over things.”

“So I’m going to be paying for three of you?”

Miles snorted. “No, they’re friends. I’m the only one on the clock, and only because you went to Sahara.”

“Well, I wanted to be fair.” Done eating, Maxi put the trash into the bag. “Your Ms. Silver is an impressive lady.”

“Yeah, she is, and she knows it. If you looked up confidence in the dictionary, you’d find Sahara smiling back at you.”

Maxi laughed. “She did give that impression.”

“You made an impression on her, too.”

“A lousy one.” It made her shudder to remember the horrid reflection looking back at her in the mirror right before her shower. And Miles’s boss, that classy lady, had seen her.

“Not so. Sahara had only nice things to say about you.”

Deciding to test the waters a little, Maxi asked, “Does that mean she, at least, didn’t think I was making it up?”

Unfazed, Miles shrugged. “Neither of us is quite sure what to think, to be honest. But I’m telling you right now, this will be easier if you tell me about any guys you’ve been involved with.”

Even though she’d suspected he didn’t believe her, his blasé confession still annoyed her. “Sure.”

A little more alert, Miles waited.

“Let’s see. There was...” She met his gaze. “None.”

His slight tension eased into frustration. “Seriously? No one?”

“I can only say it so many ways.”

“Okay, forget involvement.” He slashed a hand through the air. “Whether you were sleeping with anyone or not—”

“I wasn’t.”

“—there has to have been a guy. A casual date? Someone you only talked to?”

“Why won’t you believe me?”

He leveled a look on her. “Because I can’t bend my brain around the idea of you being alone. With the way you look, you must’ve had a dozen men after you.”

Warmed by the compliment, she pretended to think about it again. “Now that you mention it, I have talked to Woody a few times.”

His back went straight. “Woody?”

“Woody Barstow. Nice guy. Very laid-back, friendly. Kind to the cats.”

Brows coming down, Miles said, “Maybe I need to check up on Woody.”

“Sure. He’s my nearest neighbor at about eight miles away.”

“Why didn’t you mention him before?”

“Because I’m not involved with him.” She took a final sip of her cola, then added, “Plus, he’s almost eighty.”

The most comical look came over Miles’s face, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m trying to be serious.” When she continued to snicker, he muttered, “It’s not that funny.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” A different expression entered his eyes. “You really haven’t been with anyone?”

That sobered her real quick. “I need to explain, don’t I?”

“Wouldn’t hurt.”

That was what he thought. So, where to start? “I sort of have to go...well, way back. Be patient, okay?”

“I’m all ears.”

“When I was eighteen, I thought I was in love.”

Expression arrested, he repeated, “Eighteen?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Seven years ago, but it matters.”

“Okay.”

“Anyway, I was dating this older guy and I thought I was in love. My family didn’t like him. They thought he was trouble.”

Miles waited.

“And he was. Big trouble. It’s a long, hideous story, but the shortened version is that one night, while we were all on vacation, he and his friends came in uninvited. They robbed us, did a lot of damage to irreplaceable heirlooms, destroyed and vandalized just for the fun of it.” She looked down at her hands, now clasped together. Shame closed her throat, but she forced herself to finish. “He’d gotten the entry code from me.”

Without censure, Miles asked, “You gave it to him?”

“No. But he watched when I punched it in.”

“How do you know it was him?”

“Security cameras. They...did disgusting things on my sister’s bed. Even on my mother’s bed.”

“On your bed?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.” But as her family had said, she’d brought that on herself. They, however, hadn’t. “You can imagine how my family reacted. They’d told me not to see him, told me he was no good, and I didn’t listen. I argued, dramatically claimed we were in love, and then he proved them right and I was so ashamed, I didn’t even know what to say.”

Miles reached over one long arm to tweak her braid. “You were eighteen, Maxi. No one listens at eighteen. Sometimes we have to learn things the hard way.”

“Well, I thought I had learned. I went a long time avoiding guys after that. Romance and guilt didn’t mix so great.” She drew a deep breath. “And then I met another guy a year ago.”

“Wait.” Miles shifted. “You went how long without getting serious?”

“Five years.”

“So only casual dating—”

“You don’t understand. My first boyfriend destroyed an antique my mother had inherited from her great-grandmother. My sister, who is fanatical about everything, wouldn’t even go back in her room because of what he did in there. She moved out.”

“Your dad?”

“He died when I was younger. It was just my mom, sister and me. My brother, who’s eight years older, had already gone out on his own.”

“Well, maybe your sis was just ready to move on, too.”

“No, she rightly blamed me.”

“Bullshit. There’s nothing right about that.”

“They would disagree.”

“You were a victim, same as them.”

“No, I’d set that fire. Getting burned was my own fault. Unfortunately, they got burned, too, and that’s unforgivable.”

Miles shook his head. “Let’s get back to this new guy you’re involved with.”

“Used to be involved with,” she corrected. “It fell apart when I caught him cheating.” She gave him a stern frown. “I despise cheaters.”

“Any intelligent, moral person would.”

Mollified, she explained, “He didn’t want it to end and continually made a pest of himself.”

“If he didn’t want it to end, he should have kept it in his pants.”