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“You missed this. At least a little, didn’t you? Admit it, David,” his sister Frannie said, leaning back in her husband Austin’s arms and gesturing to the crowded porch where all the people he loved best were now gathered.
David drank in the scene and noted how relaxed his sister seemed. At last. She clearly loved her husband. Marriage suited her. “I missed you, squirt,” he told her. “Missed all the torment of having you chase after me.”
“Humph,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “You and Cleo and Summer used to torment and tease Jasmine and me. Wasn’t it true, Cleo?”
“Mmm, absolutely,” her cousin said, linking her hand in her husband Ethan’s as she nodded her agreement at Frannie. “And wasn’t it tons of fun?”
Her chuckle floated out on the night and his cousin Jasmine joined in. “It was great fun.”
“The best,” Summer agreed. “Remember when David wrote a play for us and we insisted he play all the male parts?” she asked. She smiled up at her husband, Gavin. “David spent his life practically surrounded by women,” she told him. “Must have been a bit harrowing at times.”
“Or…maybe not,” Gavin said, staring around at the quartet of beauties gracing the porch.
“It did have its moments,” David admitted. “I got to meet any number of young ladies I might otherwise not have had access to. And you were all very understanding about being forced to share your space with a mere male.”
“Was it a pain having to deal with all our feminine foibles?” Jasmine asked, prodding her cousin. “Be honest, David, now that we’re all grown up.”
He turned and smiled at her and marveled at what a lucky man he had been. “The truth, Jasmine? It was pretty great. We were all very close, and no, I didn’t mind at all being the only guy other than Dad most of the time. You all spoiled me shamefully, you know.”
“Like you didn’t spoil us,” Cleo drawled. “You did. You and Uncle Edward.” She sat silent for a full five seconds. Then she raised her brows speculatively. “So which of our friends did you want to meet that you didn’t tell us about?”
David ran one hand over his jaw, not bothering to hide his grin. “Well, let’s see. I would have killed to have Edith Darrowby run her fingers through my hair when I was twelve.”
Cleo crowed. “I seem to recall her doing that very thing on this front porch one summer when you were home on spring break.”
David raised one brow and smiled. “My, what a good memory you have, Cleo, love.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “Considering how many women you’ve kissed, it’s amazing I remember one specific lady. We’ve missed you, David. You kept us from getting too serious.”
“And you were always ready to defend any of us even when we didn’t deserve it,” Frannie added. “We’ve all missed you, big brother. Don’t stay away this long again,” she said, rising to give David a hug.
He gently kissed her cheek, then took a quick step to open the door that his aunt was struggling through with cups and saucers. “Aunt Celeste, why didn’t you tell me you were carrying that? I would have done it for you. Now come on, turn those things over to me.”
Celeste gave him a long, patient look. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. I wanted you to have time to visit with the children. Besides, you know I’m as strong as they come, and your parents are helping me out in the kitchen. Edward is carting out the coffee and Yvette has the cookies. Now you just settle back this one night and let us all look at you and talk to you. Don’t fuss over us, David,” she said, gently slapping his hands away as she set down her burden.
“Yes, dear, don’t fuss. Indulge tonight. You and Edward can go back to being the big, predatory protective males in the morning. You know we eat that stuff up,” his mother said, offering her cheek for his kiss as she followed Celeste through the door.
“What’s a guy to do?” David asked his father as Edward moved out into the night.
“Simple enough, son. Just enjoy being surrounded by the women who love him,” Edward advised, setting down the urn he was carrying and wrapping his arms around his wife. “Just enjoy.”
And he did, David thought later that night as he lay in bed. Now, as an adult, he could take pleasure in his family so much more than he’d been able to as a boy. Growing up, he’d been loved, he’d appreciated, but his illness had set him apart from the world in many ways. He’d wanted to be accepted the way other boys his age were, but he hadn’t been able to do the things other boys had done. And so he’d retreated into solitude in public. He’d made himself a world within walls and only come out within the heart of his family. He’d even come to enjoy being a loner; he’d thrived on the solitude and the barriers he’d erected. But now?
“That’s gone, that’s done,” he whispered. He didn’t ever want to build those kinds of immovable walls again. He loved the world and being a part of it. He wanted all the joys of companionship and joining and belonging. Still, he knew there were flaws to parts of the plan. Years of holding himself aloof had taken their toll. He never dated a woman for long; he always had the urge to move on soon after the start of a relationship.
Secretly he might want to try for the kind of closeness and marriage his parents had, but he knew it was just the kid inside him still wanting something he couldn’t have. The truth was that he would never allow himself to offer love or marriage to a woman. Not when he couldn’t sustain the feelings a relationship needed to survive. Promising a woman his heart and then asking for it back just wouldn’t be fair or right.
So, no, he didn’t want to be a loner anymore, and yet in some ways he still was one and probably always would be. Maybe—just maybe—he and Gretchen Neal had something in common, after all.
“Whoa, hang on there. Gretchen, you’re not going to tell me that this little scrap of fluff is actually your dog?” David asked the next day. He lifted his lips in a half smile as he followed Gretchen into the door of the small white cottage and was immediately assailed by a bit of white fur, big brown eyes and frantically wagging tail dancing around his feet. “I’m surprised. A tough lady like you. This little guy is not exactly standard-issue watchdog,” he said, raising one brow.
Gretchen rolled her eyes. “I told you that you didn’t have to come with me. I explained that I was perfectly capable of carrying in a bag of groceries on my own.”
“In other words, uninvited guests have no right to insult your pet?” David asked with a grin, depositing the bag on the kitchen table and bending to scratch beneath the little dog’s upturned chin.
“Exactly,” Gretchen agreed, watching his easy way with her pet. “Goliath is a very intelligent creature. He knows when he’s been insulted.”
David looked down at the obviously eager wriggling of the pink-tongued little animal.
“Of course. I can see that. Looks really put out to me,” he said with a wink at his new canine pal. David rose to his feet and looked at Gretchen, whose mouth was twitching in an obvious bid to hold back a smile.
“Well, he usually gets offended very easily,” she insisted. “He doesn’t ordinarily get this exuberant over some mere man walking through my door,” she said, as if men were swinging through her door every darn hour of the day. The thought sent a small arrow of irritation spiraling through David. He thrust it aside. Gretchen was, after all, a splendidly lovely lady, and she was a woman working in a world filled with testosterone-laced males. It only stood to reason that she’d slayed her share of his own sex, and anyway, he had no business butting into that part of her life. He’d told her that he wouldn’t.
“I’m sure you’re right about your little friend here,” David said with a nod. “I can see he’s probably chewed up his share of male ankles. Probably only spared me because of the groceries I was carrying,” he said. “But, Gretchen?”
“Hmm?”
“’Goliath’? You really call this little pretend puppy Goliath?” He looked pointedly downward and down farther still to the floor far below where the tiny white tail swished against his shoestrings.
She shrugged. “I thought he needed a little help. Everyone can’t have the advantage of being tall and strong,” she reasoned, looking pointedly at David.
“You thought he needed a little assist,” he said, wondering if the lady knew just how much her words revealed about her. “Where’d you find him?”
Gretchen blew out a breath as she reached into the first bag of groceries and pulled out a head of radicchio. “The humane society. I was looking for a Lab,” she explained. “Or a Shepherd. Maybe a St. Bernard.”
“Tough-guy dogs,” he surmised.
“Well, yes. Why not?”
“Absolutely. Smart dogs to keep around.”
“I know, but then—”
“Goliath looked at you with those big caramel-brown puppy-dog eyes that said ‘I need help.’”
Gretchen glanced back over her shoulder and leveled a long cool green-eyed stare at him. “Believe me, I’m not such a pushover as that, Hannon. You don’t work the streets of Miami and survive if you fall for every pair of big beautiful eyes that look at you beseechingly.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” he said, moving up behind her. He wondered just what all she’d seen in those years in the city. He was pretty sure much of it had been ugly. There was a telling tiny scar on her wrist and one just beneath that firm little chin of hers. Maybe from falling off a bike as a kid—or maybe from having a knife held a bit too close for comfort. Any way he looked at it, he was positive that she’d learned the survival skills every cop in that sort of situation had to learn. Emotional retreat. Develop a tough patina. Never get too involved. She had those eyes that looked right through a man to read secrets he didn’t want read. She had that closed-off look she could turn on whenever she needed to. And yet… He looked back down to the tiny dog worrying a rubber bone as if the chew toy were a criminal Goliath was trying to cuff.
“They were going to put him down. He was too frantic, too untrainable for most people,” she explained apologetically. “It was probably foolish for me to take him, but—” She lifted a shoulder in a helpless gesture.
“You did what you felt you had to do,” David said, holding out a box of rice to Gretchen, trying to ease her out of her discomfort by returning to the mundane task at hand. She took the box from him, her fingers brushing against his. Cool satin licking against his skin. At the stroke of her bare flesh against his, he felt a slight tremble go through her—and felt his own answering tremors deep inside. Unusual for him, he thought for about the fiftieth time since he’d met the woman. He always kept things light, easy. It was the way he liked things, the way things suited him, but he was relatively sure that nothing was going to be easy with Gretchen—on any level. She had too much to prove where he was concerned, too many barriers. One of those sprang up now. He knew when she made the effort to control that trembling his unexpected touch had brought on. She was right. It wouldn’t do for the two of them to mix up the personal and the professional. They’d already discussed that issue.
And so he withdrew his hand, ended the contact that sent sensation in a warm arc through his body. He resisted the impulse to move closer, to step right into her space and drag her body up against his in a long, slow slide. He turned away and helped her finish shelving the groceries.
For long, languid seconds there was only the sound of cans clicking against cans, the whoosh of boxes being slid into place on the wooden shelves.
“David?” she finally asked.
He looked up and met the question in her eyes.
“Do you really think you can remain objective when this case is so tied into your own family?”
His brows drew together. He knew she had the right to ask although she’d already asked the question once before. It was a question that bore repeating given the gravity and the sensitive nature of the situation. Indeed, she had the obligation to demand the truth from him considering her responsibilities. But he knew her question was intended to raise a personal barrier as well as a professional one. She was letting him know that while he affected her breathing, she wasn’t going to let it matter.
“I’m a firm believer that the truth frees people,” he said. “I may not like the answers we discover, but I’ll do my best to make sure that we do, indeed, discover the whole truth. You’ll have my full cooperation no matter what. You can trust me, Gretchen.”
But he could see that there was still uncertainty in her eyes. There would probably always be uncertainty there until he could prove—if he could—that he meant what he said. She was wishing she had been sent any other man than him. Still, she took a deep breath and looked away.
“Down, Goliath. Sit,” she said softly but firmly when the little dog hopped around David, hoping for another chin scratching.
The dog immediately whimpered, but he did as he was told.
“I thought you said he was untrainable,” David said.
She shook her head. “I said that he was considered untrainable. I happen to believe that anything is possible if a person is determined enough.”
He smiled. “And yet you’re working with me when that really wasn’t what you wanted. You think you’re going to be rid of me?”
She smiled sweetly. “You don’t live in White horn anymore, David, do you? Don’t you think that if I really want to be rid of you, all I have to do is wait?”
David felt the impact of her smile—of her words—like a ball peen hammer to the chest. He forced a mock-sweet smile to his lips. “Ah, Gretchen, my dearest detective, what a wonderful, ripping way you have with words. Tears at a man’s heart just to hear you speak.”
She smiled back ever so innocently. “Oh, partner, I’m so glad we understand each other so well. Your candor is refreshing. Still, it’s late and we have lots of miles to cover in the morning, so go home now. I wouldn’t want to have to sic my attack dog on you.”
David looked down at Goliath, who was still obediently sitting.
“She’s pretty bossy, isn’t she, buddy? Guess I’d better get out of here before she starts ordering me to sit, too.” The little dog whimpered and wiggled slightly, obviously wanting a goodbye pat but not willing to leave his post.
Gretchen looked at the two doleful males in front of her and let out the grin she’d been holding back.
“All right, Goliath. Go ahead,” she said with a small shake of her head.
The little dog bounded over for a touch from David and received what he was looking for.
“You need some male companionship, buddy, you let me know,” David said. “Or maybe some tips on how to worm your way past some bigger dog into a lady’s heart.”
“David,” Gretchen drawled as the maddening man raised his brows and gave her that warm seductive smile she was beginning to know too well. Really, this man was just way too smooth for her to ever feel restful in his presence. He’d obviously been born to reel women in with just a look.
“Gretchen,” he drawled, imitating her tone. “Tomorrow I want to see the construction sites where the bodies were found. We’ll go right after morning coffee at the Hip Hop Café.”
She nodded before she realized he was calling the shots again. Automatically she opened her mouth to protest.
He tilted his head slightly and gave her a serious, questioning look with those deep emerald eyes of his that sent a spark zipping through her entire body.
“Yes?” he asked, his voice low and sexy.
He was playing a game with her. She knew that. She could either fall into the trap by arguing with him or she could refuse to play. Gretchen was absolutely positive that David was a master at the game of winning a woman’s attention. She was good at what she did, but so was he. And she was in way over her head right now in this cozy space with David Hannon’s broad shoulders filling up her kitchen and her vision.
Shaking her head, she dismissed the subject. “Thank you,” she said instead. “For carrying in my groceries.”
“Thank you,” he whispered back.
Confusion had her opening her eyes wider.
“For taking in a sickly little runt even though I know darn well he wasn’t what you really wanted. Even though you were probably kicking yourself all the way home, and he’s probably caused and will continue to cause you no end of trouble.”
Gretchen was pretty sure they weren’t really talking about Goliath anymore.
“I can handle trouble, David. I welcome trouble.”
He grinned again, then moved out the door and pulled it almost shut behind him. “That’s good, Gretchen,” she could swear she heard him say just before the door clicked shut.
She couldn’t help smiling. She couldn’t help wondering why her skin felt alive and tingling even though the only touch she and David had shared had been slight and over too quickly. But there was something about the lazy way the man looked at her, that made her feel that he had touched her time and time again. There was something about the quiet, deep tone in his voice when he said her name, that made her feel he’d been thinking about what it would be like to slide his naked skin over hers.
“The man is definitely right,” she whispered to no one in particular. “It’s a good thing you know how to handle trouble, because top-notch agent though he may be, David Hannon is going to be a major source of very deep trouble.”
And as she climbed into bed that night, another thought traipsed through her consciousness. It was a good thing she’d never taken a man like David to one of her friend’s or relative’s weddings. He was just the kind of man that would make people start urging her to think seriously about getting married lest she fall prey to some dangerous man with hot eyes and hot lips and deliciously seeking hands.
Maybe someday, she thought, she’d find the right man to haul off to one of those weddings. For now, though, she had to think about taking David off to examine those construction sites.
They had two bodies on their hands—and no answers to their questions.
They had barely gotten their coffee at the Hip Hop the next morning when Lily Mae Wheeler called across to their table.
“David, how are your parents? And your aunt? Your sister and your cousins? And those nice young men Cleo and Frannie married? I haven’t been out to the Big Sky in a billion years.”
David did his best not to laugh as the elderly lady leaned forward more and more with each question. The long bright dangling beads that dripped from her ears shook with each movement, but even more amusing was the fact that his mother had just been complaining that Lily Mae had been out to the Big Sky way too much lately. Her excuse was that she was checking up on the family and the newlyweds, but Yvette was sure that Lily Mae just wanted the latest dirt on what had happened between Jeremiah Kincaid and Raven Hunter thirty years ago.
“Everyone is doing great, Lily Mae,” he said gently, all too aware that half of the lady’s nosiness stemmed from the fact that she was alone after being widowed and then divorced twice after that. She could be a wicked gossip and cruel, but at the heart of all of that was a kind of pathetic need to be the center of attention. He knew that, but it didn’t mean he was sharing any information the lady didn’t need to know. Such as the fact that his aunt was so worried about this case that lately she could be heard quietly pacing the floor on certain dark and lonely nights. “The Big Sky has its usual complement of summer customers out to view the beautiful Montana scenery.”
“You obviously love the view, too,” Lily Mae said, shaking her head. Her glow-in-the-dark temporarily red hair, unlike her earrings, was wrapped around her head and there fore immobile. “How can you stand to live in the city after growing up out here?”
“I miss it every single day, Lily Mae,” David said quietly, and he was surprised to realize how much he meant that. Not that it mattered. His work was important to him, and his work was elsewhere, but there was something about home…
“The city’s not so bad, Lily Mae.” Gretchen’s soft voice brought him out of his reverie. He turned to look into her determined green eyes over her coffee cup. He wondered if she meant what she said, or if she was trying to defend him from Lily Mae. A touching thought. Probably not true, however. More likely Gretchen Neal was simply trying to convince him that he’d be better off scurrying back to Atlanta as soon as possible.
“Well, you grew up in the city and yet here you are,” Lily Mae argued. “Although I hear you’re taking a trip to Helena soon.”
Gretchen froze. A small, almost imperceptible groan slipped through her lips, and she had an undeniable urge to reach across to Lily Mae’s table and shove the words back into her mouth. How had the woman found out? And why did she care that Lily Mae knew?
“A bridesmaid again?” the woman was saying, shaking her head sadly. “How many times does that make now?”
Gretchen looked into the eyes of her friend Emma who was waiting on the next table. “I’m sorry,” Emma mouthed, and was instantly forgiven. Gretchen knew all too well how good Lily Mae was at worming secrets out of people.
She somehow managed to smile at Emma and shrug her shoulders. But it was difficult. She knew Lily Mae’s condescending tone too well. She’d heard it from any number of people lately. As if everyone thought she couldn’t get a man of her own. As if they didn’t understand that she just didn’t want to get married. Ever.
“I’ve rather lost count of how many weddings I’ve stood up at, Lily Mae,” she said, telling the truth. “I guess I’m just lucky, though, to have so many friends who love me enough to want me to be a part of their weddings.”
