Braving the Heat Page 6

  Onstage Grant was taking a turn on the drum set while the band’s real drummer stood back, grinning and working the crowd. Kenzie laughed, enjoying the sight of her boss having a blast as she weaved through the crowded dance floor to call out her orders at the bar. Mitch was on duty at the firehouse tonight, a fact she did her best to push to the back of her mind as she waited for Jason to fill her tray with longneck beers and two fancy cosmopolitans.

  The PFD was a typically tight-knit community and Kenzie had first met Jason when he was teaching at the academy. He couldn’t be much older than her, and she’d never heard what had led him to the academy so early in his career. Now, he was a full-time assistant to Grant. As much fun as she had with most of her shifts here at the Escape, she couldn’t imagine choosing this over the real challenge and sense of accomplishment that came with fighting fires.

  “Any word from your lawyer today?” he asked, as he added curls of lemon peel to the pale pink cosmopolitans.

  She shook her head. “The last email claimed no news is good news. I just have to be patient.”

  “Easy for him to be patient—he’s doing his job while you’re stalled out on the sidelines. Not that we aren’t happy to have you here,” he added with a friendly wink.

  Kenzie hefted her tray to her shoulder and gave him a warm smile. “Thanks. Not many people understand that.”

  She moved through the crowd, delivering drinks and taking more orders in her section. The summer concert series was a huge success, padding the bottom line for the Escape Club as well as the rest of the businesses along the river. It helped that Grant made a habit of pairing local bands on the rise with established regional groups vying to get onto this stage in front of music lovers.

  When she approached the bar again several minutes later, Grant and Stephen were talking near the doorway that led to the kitchen. She felt that sizzle at the sight of the oldest Galway brother. The sensation was quickly followed by curiosity when she realized the men were embroiled in an intense conversation. Pressure simmered through the air as Grant crowded Stephen.

  She called out her drink orders and told herself the two men had better things to discuss than her. Besides, she was stable now that Stephen had insisted she stick around, and had given her time to fix her own car. Though it couldn’t possibly be any of her business, she kept sneaking glances at them.

  Stephen turned slightly, blocking her view of Grant’s face. A moment later, Grant was all but hauling Stephen back to his office. Kenzie stared after them for a long moment.

  “What’s all that?” she asked Jason.

  “Don’t know. I get the impression Stephen has a few issues,” he replied. “Grant’s been in his face for a few months now.”

  She swallowed the urge to ask why. If Stephen wanted her to know something about him, he would share. She wouldn’t abuse his hospitality by snooping around for details like a high school gossip girl with a crush on the star quarterback.

  Crush? Her mind locked on the word and wouldn’t let go as she kept up her circuit between her customers and the bar. Sure, he was attractive and he added plenty of sex appeal to that intense broody look. Huh. She hadn’t realized she was into that. Maybe it was just his proximity to that soon-to-be-stunning Camaro.

  By the time her break rolled around, she was more than ready for a breather from the crowd and noise in the club. She grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen and a power bar from her backpack and went outside for some fresh air.

  The muted sounds on the river always fell over her like a silk curtain. Though she was only a few paces from the club, with businesses thriving up and down the waterway, the immediate peace and dark enveloped her, tempting her to linger well past her allotted fifteen minutes.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  The gruff demand startled her as she sipped the water and she choked. Sputtering, she turned to face Stephen. Oh, the man had broody and sexy in spades. Kenzie made a mental note to use some of this unexpected free time to find a date. This was a big city. She could find some neutral and friendly guy to hang out with, someone who didn’t dare her hormones to rise up and take control of her common sense.

  “I’m on my break,” she said, when her throat finally cooperated.

  “Alone.” Stephen glared at the dark river behind her. “Out here.”

  “Not alone anymore,” she said, with as much patience as she could muster. Until this particular moment, the man had shown her remarkable kindness. She supposed it was his turn to be rude.

  “It isn’t safe out here,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

  “For who?” she asked carefully.

  “For you.” He glared across the river as if New Jersey was on the verge of launching a fleet to invade Pennsylvania and take her captive.

  “You’ll notice I’m fine,” she replied, deliberately taking a step closer to the river, distancing herself. Something was troubling him and she felt compelled to draw out an explanation if possible. She watched him lingering at the blurry edge of the shadows near the building. “You and Grant were intense. Everything okay?”

  “You’ll notice I’m fine,” he replied.

  Normally having her words tossed back in that bored tone would irritate her. Stephen made her laugh. “So we both have things we don’t want to talk about.” She turned her back on the river, preferring the view he offered. That stoic, immovable stance dialed up the fizz factor in her system whenever he was near and she reveled in it. “That’s fair. I’m surprised to see you here two nights in a row.”

  “I’d rather be at the garage.”

  She understood that perfectly. She worked to hide her grin. “I bet. Please don’t tell me you’re here to keep an eye on me.” Grant had a tendency to call in favors or hand out orders as needed, with the idea of protecting people he cared about. Still, a pleasant, happy warmth slid through her to be a person Grant wanted to keep safe. He was one of the world’s good guys.

  “Not exactly.” Stephen crossed his arms and then uncrossed them, shoving his hands into his pockets again. He took a deep breath and met her gaze. “I came by tonight to let you know my mother would like you to join us for Sunday dinner tomorrow.”

  Wow. The darkness hid the scowl on his face, but she heard it in his voice. Through Mitch, she knew Mrs. Galway expected her children to gather once a week unless they were on shift or out of town.

  “Thought it would be better to do it now, rather than after your shift,” he added under his breath.

  He would have waited up for her two nights in a row? No one other than family had done that for her. She wanted to assign some significance to it, though she really didn’t know him well enough. She studied him as closely as the dim light allowed. What did he want her to say?

  He shuffled his feet. “You can think about it and let me know in the morning.”

  “Your mother’s worried about me feeling left out?” A trademark Mrs. Galway move. She’d always been one of Kenzie’s favorite parent volunteers when she and Mitch were in school. The woman had a way of making everyone she met feel as if they mattered.

  “That’s my guess,” he said.

  “Thanks.” The idea of sharing a meal with the Galways sounded like fun. “The invitation is a thoughtful gesture.”

  “Is that a yes?” he asked.

  “Would you like me to refuse?” Thanks to Mitch, Kenzie was aware that when the Galway kids brought a guest to Sunday dinner, it was assumed that person was significant. That wasn’t the case for her and Stephen and she didn’t want to make the situation difficult for him. “It wouldn’t bother me at all to have Sunday to myself.”

  “Do you have something else to do tomorrow afternoon?”

  “No,” she answered. “I’m off tomorrow. I was going to work on my car.”

  He stepped back, as if he found that news distasteful. “Then
I’ll tell her you’ll join us.”

  “Only if that’s okay with you,” she insisted.

  “It’s fine.” He pulled out his cell phone.

  She didn’t quite believe him, but she didn’t want to argue the point and make this conversation any more difficult than it was. “Great. Thanks.”

  Family dinner hadn’t been a regular occurrence with Hughes women, even before her mother and little sister had moved to Maryland. In recent years, the three of them tended to do more family bonding over spa days, shopping trips and the occasional beach weekend.

  Stephen slipped his phone back into his pocket and stood there. As awkward moments went, this had to rank in the all-time top ten. “I should get back to work,” she said. “Did you enjoy the band?” she added.

  “They’re a local favorite.”

  She was about to call him on the evasion when he reached to open the door for her and grimaced. She recognized pain when she saw it. “What’s wrong?” She shifted, taking the weight of the door off him.

  “Nothing,” he said, following her into the club.

  “Liar.” She looked him over, head to toe, not seeing any obvious injury. “Something’s hurting you,” she pressed.

  His eyebrows shot up. “It’s not a big deal. I slipped on a step.”

  “Landing on your side?” On reflex, she reached for his rib cage, then pulled back, curling her fingers into her palms.

  “Pretty much,” he replied. “Nothing’s broken,” he added before she could ask.

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “I’ve had a broken rib before,” he told her, without elaborating on how it had happened.

  “All right.” Pain would explain the general discomfort he projected, though she sensed there was still something more lurking under the surface. “If you’re sticking around, have Jason pour you a beer. My treat.”

  “I’ll just get going. Unless you have another break coming.”

  She grinned. He seemed determined to keep an eye on her. “I’ll be safe,” she said, backing toward the club noise spilling into the hallway.

  “Have someone walk you out tonight,” he called after her.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Kenzie decided Grant must have asked Stephen to keep an eye on her, after all. No other reason for Stephen to make that request. Rather than getting bent out of shape about it, she welcomed the sweet sensation that life was giving her a little upswing, a boost to help her over the other muck she was trying to navigate.

  Hours later, as she closed out the shift and waited for Jason to walk her out to the car, Grant offered to take on the role of safety escort.

  “I need a favor,” he said, as soon as they were away from the club.

  “Of course. You’ve certainly done plenty of them for me.” She appreciated that the Escape Club had been an option for her, bridging the gap and keeping her busy while she waited to get back on shift at the PFD.

  “Can you keep an eye on Stephen?”

  “What?” She couldn’t have heard him correctly. Grant made no secret of the fact that he helped people tangled up in difficult situations, but Stephen seemed capable of handling himself.

  “You are staying at his place, right?” Grant asked.

  “I am.” She didn’t add that Stephen had practically insisted on it. “On top of the loaner car, he’s letting me stay in his camper until I can get back into my apartment.”

  Grant snorted. “He told me he’s lending you space and tools to fix your car, so that will give you more reason to stick close. Try not to fix it too fast.”

  “What is this about? Stephen doesn’t strike me as the type to enjoy having people looking over his shoulder.”

  “You’re right, but someone has to do something and you’re already in.” Grant’s bushy, salt-and-pepper eyebrows dipped low over his dark brown eyes. “Can you please try?”

  She had a sudden image of Stephen’s face twisted with pain. “He didn’t fall down the stairs, did he?”

  “Not without help,” Grant muttered. “Since his fiancée was murdered and the killer acquitted, Stephen has struggled to stay on track.”

  A chill of unease trickled down her spine. “Meaning what, exactly?” What sort of situation was she signing on for? Grant had to know she didn’t need more life complications that Murtagh’s legal team could use against her. Though Stephen didn’t give off the vibe of a man using drugs or alcohol, he was so reserved she couldn’t be sure.

  “A buddy of mine in Narcotics tells me Stephen sends in pictures, tips, and occasionally names of drug dealers near the community center where his fiancée worked,” Grant said. “Tonight, they got another tip and the undercover officer in the area caught a few pictures of Stephen in the community center lot before and after the tip came in. I think he’s hurting from a fight.”

  Stephen didn’t have a substance abuse kind of habit; he had vigilante tendencies. Great. “Is he trying to get himself killed?”

  “Can’t answer that one,” Grant said. “I do know if he doesn’t lay off he runs the risk of blowing a major drug bust in the area.”

  At the car, she shoved her rolled-up apron into her backpack and pulled her keys out of the smaller pocket. “And here I thought you’d told him to keep an eye on me.”

  “I did.” Grant’s unrepentant grin flashed across his face. “He wasn’t excited about it, but I’m hoping such an impossible and unnecessary task will distract him from the troubles near the community center.”

  She rolled her eyes. His flattery amused her and blended with his fatherly concern into a comforting warmth that soothed her tired mind and body. “It’s a tall order, but I’ll do my best,” she said, unlocking the car. “Does Mitch know anything about this?” She didn’t want to stick her foot in her mouth at Sunday dinner.

  “If he does, he didn’t hear it from me,” Grant said. “I’ve been trying to guide Stephen away from this habit quietly.”

  “All right.” If Grant hadn’t enlisted any of the Galway family’s help on this issue, she wouldn’t, either. It was always better to know where she stood. She opened the door and pushed her backpack into the space behind the driver’s seat.

  “And Kenzie?”

  She glanced up. Grant was still leaning on the passenger side of the car. “Don’t let Stephen run you off.”

  “Not a chance,” she assured him. “His camper is the most affordable place in town.” Keeping it light, she gave her boss a confident wink and settled behind the wheel of the loaner car.

  Though Stephen valued his privacy and solitude, working at his garage was no hardship for her. She enjoyed getting her hands dirty and had already planned to help him out as much as he’d allow just as payback for letting her stay. Now she had to rethink how to dig in deeper, and keep him closer to the garage without driving either of them crazy.

  * * *

  Just past noon the next afternoon, Stephen waited by Megan’s minivan, wondering if he should go check on Kenzie. They had plenty of time to get to the house, but he hadn’t seen her since her break last night.

  When he’d returned from the club, he couldn’t recall if he’d told her what time to be ready today. Frustrated and sore from the scuffle at the community center, he’d taped a note to the camper door for her. Though he’d waited up until she returned from her shift, he didn’t go outside when she arrived. The note hadn’t been there when he checked this morning and he had to assume she’d seen it. Or he could just go knock on the door and make sure she was up.

  No. He wouldn’t nag her. She might have changed her mind or decided she’d rather sleep after her crazy-late hours.

  Running on fumes from lack of sleep, he might have downed too much coffee while he dealt with invoices and paperwork as the clock on the wall crept closer to Sunday dinner time. Maybe they should just take two cars over, though he didn’t want
her to think he would leave without her. Exasperated with himself, he tried to sigh and only managed to swear at the pain in his ribs when he inhaled.

  He couldn’t get past how wrong this felt to be taking someone other than Annabeth to the Galway weekly ritual. Sure, his mother considered Kenzie a family friend, but she would be arriving with him.

  His palms went damp and guilt fogged his mind as memories slammed into him from every angle. The last time he’d brought a woman to Sunday dinner he and Annabeth were in the thick of wedding plans. His mom had surprised everyone at dessert, bringing out samples from three bakeries vying for the wedding cake and reception contract. The family voted in favor of a rich berry cake, insisting it was the best choice for a summer wedding.

  If he closed his eyes, he could almost see Annabeth’s delighted face as she savored a bite of fluffy, light lemon cake. He hadn’t had a preference between the samples until that moment. As soon as her favorite was obvious, he wanted her to have whatever made her happiest. Wouldn’t settle for anything else.

  It had been his job to make her life better in every way possible. Epic fail, he thought. And it was only getting worse. No matter what he did at the community center during or after hours, Annabeth’s memory kept drifting further into the back of his mind.

  He tugged at the open collar of his button-down shirt. The humidity was already unspeakable. What had they been thinking? Summer was too hot for formal occasions. Except with Annabeth, getting married in July, the anniversary month of their first date, had seemed perfect.

  They’d had big plans for that summer and all the ones that would follow as husband and wife. Four days after that cake tasting, his life and all their plans were shattered when the phone rang and the cops told him she was dead.

  Carefully, he took a slow, deep breath, mindful of the bruised ribs this time. He wasn’t going to get out of this dinner and he needed to pull himself together or he’d be on the receiving end of pitying glances and smothering concern all afternoon.