Island Holiday (Brookwell Island #4)

Chapter 6

“You bought the ring.” Sonya stared down at the ring on her left hand. He had in fact, bought the ring and the matching wedding bands too. Those would be sized later—or never, since this was all a ruse. Either way, those rings were being shipped to headquarters for safekeeping.

Once the ring was sized and safely on her finger, he’d sent a text message and a big black sedan had rolled up in front of the store and whisked them back to the condo. Where she should’ve taken it off and given it back immediately.

But every time she reached for it, her lips tingled, remembering that kiss. Or she’d glance over and her heart would race. With each passing minute, it was getting more awkward.

“I don’t mind if you wear it,” he said.

That snapped her out of her reverie. “You should. We’re… I mean…”

“Coworkers?”

“Among other things.” Her gaze dropped as the diamond caught the light again. “I’ve never thought of anything like this.” She felt utterly girly for the first time in her life. This wasn’t her speed. Sure, she liked to look good, but she was basic.

This ring was so not basic.

Perched on one of the counter stools, she was still trying to wrap her head around what happened. “What would your girlfriend say?”

“Don’t have one.” He grinned. “Only a fiancée.”

“Stop messing around.” She wiggled the ring off her finger and handed it over. “It’s weird.”

He hesitated, making her wonder if the awkwardness was getting to him too. For a minute, he just held the ring in his big fingers and she hooked her hands in her back pockets to keep from grabbing for it like some spellbound creature.

When he looked up, he was Connor again. Steady and patient. Everything should be fine, back on track. Except she knew how he kissed. She might suck at reading people, but there was no mistaking the fire that arced between them in the jewelry store.

“Thanks for the fabulous acting job back there,” he said. “I would’ve blown it.”

“You bought the rings. No one would’ve cared.”

He shrugged.

“Just tell me. Are you some kind of trust fund baby?” How else would he have money to toss around? Then a terrible thought popped into her head. “Or is it just going on the expense report?”

“Hardly.” He snorted. “I’ll return it or sell it, I guess.”

Her heart pinched at the idea of someone else wearing that ring. Then she scolded herself for the silly reaction. “Yeah, sure. He was all about the enduring value.” She moved back to her spot on the couch. Best if she got back to work.

“Who?”

“The salesman.”

“Guess I wasn’t listening.”

“You were busy saving our butts,” she said. Her attention had been split between chattering enough that they didn’t get kicked out and what a kiss that intense could mean between virtual strangers.

“About that.” She twisted around on the couch, much happier keeping the conversation focused on business. “Any idea who those guys were?”

“I assume they’re on Zimmer’s payroll. Unless you have enemies here who found you.”

She swallowed. “I have enemies in Charlotte, yes. But none that would’ve found me hours after my arrival in this swanky neighborhood.”

“Want to talk about it?” He held out two plates, both loaded with thick sandwiches and chips. He tipped his head to invite her to the table. “Can you grab the drinks?”

“On it.” She took the seat across from him. “Thanks for this.”

“It’s a sandwich. And my pleasure.”

Her stomach growled and she dug into the food. The man made an excellent sandwich. He seemed to excel at everything he put his mind to.

Like kissing.

Stop. She couldn’t keep torturing herself over something that could never be. They were too different. He was an office guy and she was forever on the move.

“So, about your enemies,” he prompted after a time. “No chance those two were connected to your past?”

She shook her head. “Has to be Zimmer.”

“All right.”

He didn’t press, just picked up the second half of his sandwich. She could tell he wanted to ask more questions, but he respected her limits. Maybe that’s all she needed. “I move around because I’m scared. At least that’s how it started.” She took a long drink of her water. For a moment she considered something stronger. “Now, it’s as much a habit as anything else.” Under the table she twisted the napkin in her lap. “I’m not a trust fund baby either,” she began. “I was born to a family of con artists and thieves, but I didn’t like it. I loved school. Hated lying. They had the gene that allowed them to work a mark, but I never could see people the way they did.”

He gave a low whistle. “No wonder you went into finance.”

“What’s that mean?”

He plucked a potato chip off his plate. “Only that it’s hard to develop any people skills when those closest to you aren’t who they claim to be. You couldn’t know who to trust or when. Math doesn’t lie.”

It startled her to hear it distilled so simply. As the shock of his correct and swift assessment faded, a strange sense of peace settled over her. Not even her therapists had managed that so well. Something about Connor—so far nearly everything—put her at ease. Yes, she was wildly attracted to him, the kiss only emphasized that particular issue. But she genuinely liked him as a person and partner. A working partner.

“Nailed it,” she said. “Impressive.”

She ate a bit more, feeling her energy returning.

“Why are you afraid they’ll find you?” he asked.

She winced. “My boss wasn’t the first time I blew the whistle. I tattled as a kid, got an uncle sent to jail. My mom kept me around, but only as a tool to maintain her innocence in the matter.”

“The cops had to know.”

She shrugged. “It’s over. My family pretty much ignored me as much as possible until I left for college. And as I’m sure you know, I never went back home. Once I discovered real friends in Hannah and Harper, my family felt too sticky and ugly to even bother with.”

He was watching her with those changeable hazel eyes. “When did they push you for access to Harper?”

She felt her mouth fall open. “How the—” Wait, he’d been asking, which meant it wasn’t in some official record he’d discovered.

“Sonya.” He reached over and covered her hand with his. “It was an assumption. Common sense. I’m not trying to piss you off or offend you. I’m sure your family—”

“Sucks,” she finished. “There’s no way around it. Just a fact. They’re still running scams, in and out of prison. I check up on them.” She took a long, slow breath. “I guess we have that in common.”

“An urge to protect you? Absolutely.”

Not what she expected to hear. The butterflies in her belly were swooping with glee. He’d just said he cared. And he looked completely sincere. Why was it easier for her to read him than anyone else? Best not to dwell on that quirk. Any lasting connection was a sweet fantasy. Relationships came with ties and expectations and a whole host of other things that would give her relatives an opening.

She shivered, thinking about what her criminally minded siblings would do if they discovered she’d settled down, fallen in love, found the stability she’d always craved. It would be harder than keeping them away from Harper. At least Harper was sheltered by Bruce and the Ellington security teams. Any family Sonya chose to build would be on their own.

Unless…

Her gaze slid to Connor and away. They both worked for an elite protection service. Would the agency help her keep her conniving family away?

Well, yes. If she’d learned anything in recent years, it was that Gamble and Swann protected their own. Now who was conniving? She couldn’t pursue Connor romantically simply because he was hot, kissed like a fantasy, and was conveniently employed. That wasn’t fair to either of them. She’d come to terms with being too far out of step with the world to expect a happy ever after. Friends and the occasional fling could be enough.

That kiss leapt right back to the front of her mind. Connor hadn’t been acting any more than she had. They had serious chemistry and a fascinating sizzle. Maybe she should just ask him if he was up for a fling while they were tossed together on this case.

Then again, how awkward would it be if he turned her down?

“You’re right,” she said. “They’ve come at me. More than once. The first time I saw my cousin on campus, I nearly had a panic attack.”

“The first time?” Connor’s voice was low and mean.

“Yes. I talked to Harper’s uncle about it. Made sure she and Hannah couldn’t be manipulated.”

“Bruce?”

She nodded. “He was way too nice to me, considering the family baggage I brought into Harper’s world. But they’re protected.” It had felt terrible having to go to them, to make those admissions about where she came from. She frequently reminded herself that if her friends had ever been conned by her family it would feel a thousand times worse.

“But what about you?”

She picked up her plate and went to the kitchen. What about her? She’d built a good life, on her terms. Twice, actually. Because she’d landed that job at the financial firm right out of college on her own merit. No connections or favors required. She’d had an apartment in an excellent neighborhood, a fun sports car, and a good social life too.

Then she’d tripped over the problems and blown the whistle. Sonya Inman, forever the tattletale. Recognizing the pattern of her life, she’d tried to solve things on her own. And though it was rough, she was glad Hannah had raised the alarm and involved the Guardian Agency.

“I’m fine.”

He looked as if he might argue, then caught himself. “Okay.” Joining her in the kitchen, he started to help clean up.

She shooed him away. “You cooked.”

“Sandwiches and chips.”

“Still counts,” she insisted. “I’ve got this. Then we’ll both get back to work.” They needed to find a lead on those young women. Well, that was his area of expertise. She needed to find some kind of gap in the finances. No one could keep perfect accounting records. Somewhere there had to be a weakness in the chain of shell companies. Something she could pry open to get to the bottom of this. She just had to think.

“We definitely have more to do.” His gaze drifted around the condo. “And more to talk about.”

When she glanced up from the dishwasher, she found him studying her. “More?”

“That kiss blew my mind.” He lifted his hand, pulling back before he could touch her. “Was it all an act?”

The smart path was clear. She could say yes. Tell him it was all in fun. Suggest a fling.

“No,” she whispered. Heat flashed through her system and all her senses were locked onto him. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to leap into his arms. Waiting, she expected him to make a move.

A smile slowly moved across his face. “Good to know.” He stroked the curve of her cheek. “Will you let me kiss you again?”

Again, the smart path lit up in her mind like runway lights. And she diverted, following desire or her heart—her mind was too muddled to be certain which. “Yes.” Anytime, anywhere. She couldn’t wait.

“Lucky me.” He gave her a soft peck on the cheek and then backed away, going straight for his laptop.

Because they had a case to work. Three young women to find.

It took a minute for her knees to stop trembling. Who knew how long it would take for her typical logic to kick in again?