A Good Kind of Trouble (A Trouble in Twin Rivers Novel Book 1) (28 page)

"Oh my God," Lindsey hissed.
 

"I'm okay," he said. If he was going to keep running into her, he should invest in a helmet.
 

"What? Oh, sorry. Look at that!" She wasn't even looking at him. He followed her gaze, his hand still over his nose.
 

She was staring rapt at the picture windows where Gregory Stanton was kissing the pretty city attorney. Their embrace was a study in conflicts. Her classic good looks and Stanton's... Well, description failed Ben. Stanton kissed Teri Schulman deeply, with lots of tongue that Ben could see even at a distance.
 

"Didn't need to see that," Ben said.
 

"That is
not
her husband," Lindsey whispered.
 

Well, that was interesting. He knew nothing about Stanton's personal life, except that he was, not surprisingly, unmarried. Ben grimaced as he watched the couple's embrace turn into groping and moaning. He could do without the show. "Who's her husband?"

"Frank Derry, that jerk who tried to get me thrown in jail," she said.

"The lawyer for ValCorp?" Stanton was having an affair with Bear's lawyer's wife? This was beyond complicated.
 

"Who is that man?" Lindsey asked, her voice a mix of shock and disgust.
 

"That is Gregory Stanton," he said. "My boss."
 

Lindsey's head snapped around and she gasped. "Your boss? Is sleeping with Teri Schulman?"
 

Ben nodded. "It would appear so."
 

She stared at the window, shuddered, and then turned back to Ben.
 

"Well, that changes everything."
 

"Why?"
 

Lindsey glanced back at him again and hesitated before answering. "I thought... Well, I don't know what I thought, but I didn't expect
this
."
 

"Yeah, neither did I." Ben said.
 

They sat in the dark, staring at each other. Ben wanted to tell her everything, wanted to learn what she knew. Between them, they probably had all the puzzle pieces. But he couldn't. If he told her what he learned about Stanton he would be directly implicating a client in a criminal conspiracy. Even if she weren't a newspaper reporter, he couldn't tell her. But as a reporter—Christ, he couldn't say a damn word.
 

"Were you following Ms. Schulman?" he asked.

She paused, then shook her head. "No. I was surprised to see her here."
 

He needed a new strategy. He was trained to cross-examine witnesses, after all.
 

"So, you came to this house specifically?"

Lindsey raised her eyes to his and he found himself holding her gaze for a long moment, a moment in which he recalled every other time they'd been this close and closer. He had a connection with her he'd never had with anyone else. She licked her lips and he swallowed, holding himself back from kissing her again.
 

She nodded and he scrambled to remember what he'd just asked her. All his training on asking questions of witnesses was blown to smithereens when he was this close to her. Lindsey glanced back at the house and Ben followed her gaze to the picture window where Stanton was groping the lovely city attorney.
 

"Ugh," he said, turning away, sorry he'd seen that. "Why this house?"
 

Lindsey shifted and wouldn't look at him. Instead, she kept her eyes on the scene in the window. Ben couldn't help it; he looked back at the house. The couple was still locked in an increasingly torrid embrace.
 

"Does this seem... I don't know—odd to you?" she asked.
 

"That someone would be attracted to Gregory Stanton? Hell yes," Ben said. "That it would be someone like her? Even more so."
 

Ben shuddered as, blessedly, Teri Schulman broke off the embrace and smiled at Stanton. She led him to the kitchen and poured two glasses of champagne. They toasted and laughed and then she began chopping something on the cutting board. Stanton sat at the kitchen table.

Ben focused his attention back on Lindsey. "You didn't answer my question," he said, keeping his voice low. "Why did you come to this house?"
 

"I wanted to see if I could find the owner."
 

"Who is the owner?"

She paused a long moment before answering. "Look, I know you can't tell me anything about your work. Just tell me you aren't involved in this mess, Ben."
 

"If I were to tell you anything about what I know, I'd lose my job, Lindsey, and probably my license to practice law. I'm sure you can't tell me certain things that you know, correct?" His stomach turned as he thought about everything at stake. Everything he wanted to sacrifice for her. He wanted to tell her everything.
 

She nodded and licked her lips. His body tensed at the unconscious but sensual motion. Hell, he wanted
her
. And he wanted to give in to every temptation and close the few inches between them and kiss her.

"I can tell you that if you were planning to write that Bear O'Bannion bought up those properties around the arena before the site was chosen, you would not be completely correct. Bear would sue the newspaper back to the days of stone tablets."
 

She stiffened. He'd guessed correctly what she was looking into. He might not be able to tell her anything, but maybe there was a way to keep her from committing career suicide.
 

"I'm not talking to you about my work. You said it wasn't a good idea for us to see each other anymore."
 

He was scant inches away from her lips, his hand at the back of her neck, intertwined in her soft hair.
 

"Things are pretty complicated right now," he said. "Maybe later..."
 

She tensed beneath his fingers. Had he said the wrong thing?

"Your job is important to you. I can understand that," Lindsey said, pulling away.
 

He shook his head. "No, my job is not important to me. It's just a job. But I like being a lawyer. It cost me a bundle and took a lot of hard work. I don't want to be disbarred."
 

She sighed. "Fine. The bottom line is that I interfere with your work."
 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Just give me some time to get some things sorted out," he said. "I have plans for the future. Plans that require me to be employed, or at least employable."
 

She started to move away, but he held her fast. His hand stroked the soft skin on her bare arm. This was never going to work. They were constantly at odds. Yet, he found himself staring at her mouth, marveling at the curve of her bottom lip, feeling the rest of her curves pressed against his body. Logically, his mind cataloged the many conflicts. But physically, his body told a different story.
 

"I heard that Stanton & Lowe may have handled the site selection work for the arena," she said. "I thought..."
 

This time, it was Ben who pulled back as the words penetrated the haze of lust in his brain.
 

"You thought what? That I might be the one who leaked the confidential site information? Or that I lied to you about not being involved with the bond sales?" he asked. His pulse pounded as his blood pressure rose. "You really think that little of me, Lindsey?"

"No! Of course not!" she gasped. "Well, maybe I had some doubts that you weren't telling me the full story. And now I know you weren't. And still aren't."
 

He would have beat his head against the nearest tree and shouted his rage, but that would only alert Stanton to his presence. The thought that she jumped to that conclusion about him felt worse than a punch to the gut. Worse than when she pepper-sprayed him.
 

"I swore an oath," he managed to hiss. "Hell, I've jeopardized my job, my career, for you."
 

She scrambled away and he caught a glimpse of remorse in her eyes. But then she was too far to see her expression in the dark. The branches and twigs on the ground rustled and Ben glanced up at the window to make sure they hadn't been heard. Stanton and his paramour had moved to the kitchen and away from the large open windows, but if Ben and Lindsey spoke above a whisper, their voices would carry into the house. He grabbed Lindsey to stop her from rustling the shrubs and they both sat in silence, watching the odd couple in the cabin raise their champagne flutes again.
 

The faint hoot of an owl filtered through the woods, followed by buzzing cicada. Ben seethed and kept his jaw clenched shut. Lindsey glanced his way a couple times, but she didn't offer an apology and he didn't ask for one. He didn't know what her reasons were for mistrusting him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. All he knew was he wanted to get the hell out of there. A pain throbbed in his temple and he reached up to rub his forehead.
 

"Come on," he whispered to Lindsey, getting to his feet slowly to avoid making too much noise. He started toward the lake, pulling Lindsey by the hand. She gripped his hand as they walked along the uneven ground and he fought the urge to squeeze her hand to reassure her. He'd get her back to civilization and get Lindsey out of his life for good this time. Clearly, the chemistry they'd shared wasn't enough to sustain a relationship that lasted more than a few intense and passionate encounters. All the signs were there from the beginning, starting with the pepper-spray incident. The universe was sending him the largest, loudest neon signs that this was not meant to be. When was he going to pay attention?
 

They stayed in the woods lining the driveway, dodging low branches and stepping carefully over the fallen limbs and tree roots that the weak flashlight barely illuminated. He kept her hand in his and she didn't fight him, gripping his hand tight. They were closer to Stanton and Teri here, only thirty feet from where the oblivious couple stood sipping champagne and beaming at each other.
 

"Shh," he cautioned Lindsey, nodding toward the open windows. She stood still, finally listening to him.
 

The yard was dark, a nearly full moon just starting to crest over the mountains in the east. To get to the beach, they'd have to cross the back lawn of the cabin, but the large windows were open and they'd be just feet from Stanton and his lover. He'd made his way up to Lindsey by threading his way through the trees and had barely missed falling into a dry creek bed, but there had been more light then. Now he couldn't see much more than a few feet in the shadowy copse. Using Lindsey's flashlight, he pointed the weak beam at the corner of the house. No motion lights on this side of the house.
 

He took Lindsey's arm, then leaned close to her ear.
 

"We're going to have to get over to that path, on the other side of the cabin. Can you see it?"
 

Lindsey peered out at the faint outline and then nodded. If they could get to the path ahead, they could walk up the road, pretending to be just another couple out on a moonlit stroll.
 

"You need to stay down," Ben said, turning off the flashlight and slipping it into his pocket. "And stay close to the house. And be quiet."
 

She nodded again and they crept close to the corner of the house, careful to avoid a garbage can and some gardening implements.

His heart pounding, Ben dropped to the ground and motioned for Lindsey to follow him. The bottom of the large window was only three feet from the ground—too low to creep by unless they were on their hands and knees. And there was enough light out that Stanton or his lover would notice two people walk out of the woods and across their backyard. With Stanton sitting at the dining room table next to the window, that was just too risky.
 

His knees sank into the soft soil as he started to crawl under the window, keeping as close to the wood-sided cabin as he could. He glanced back at Lindsey as she started crawling after him.
 

Just keep moving
. She gave him a quick nod as if she understood.

He continued forward, listening for any sound that their presence had been detected. Above his head, he heard footsteps on a hardwood floor, the sound of a chair being moved, and then a muted burp.
 

"That champagne made me gassy," Stanton said.
 

Ben closed his eyes and fought back the wave of disgust. Stanton was less than ten feet from where he and Lindsey were creeping below the window.
 

"I opened a bottle of red for you, sweetie," the woman said.
 

 
He heard the sound of heels clicking on the floor, then the splash of wine hitting a goblet. Keeping his head low, Ben looked up to the edge of the window, which was about a foot above his head. He froze and leaned in against the wall, flattening himself against it as much as he could. He cast a glance behind him and saw Lindsey also stopped her crawl, her head cocked toward the window.
 

"Thanks, babe," Stanton said.
 

The sound of Teri's shoes faded as she walked back to the kitchen, away from the window, and Ben started to move forward again, inching his way along the edge of the lawn. Glancing back, he realized that Lindsey hadn't moved. He was near the edge of the picture window when she finally looked at him. He motioned for her to move. She shook her head and held up a finger.
 

Just a moment.
 

He got the message and shook his head.
 

Are you kidding me? Move it!

She shook her head again and mouthed something at him.
 

Wait.

"This couldn't have gone better," Stanton said. "You are now officially a millionaire."