No Turning Back (5 page)

He stared at the top of her head. She tested his patience while she fascinated him. Looking away was proving harder than he wanted to admit. “You don’t have any clue about what I am.”

“A Hanover.” She balled up a piece of paper and shoved it in her pocket.

A second ago he wanted to shoo her off the property before Beck stumbled off the couch and ordered her to leave. Now all Declan wanted was to see what was on that note. Something about this woman had him jumping and spinning, and he didn’t like it.

He thrived on control. It kept him alive when he didn’t have any right to be and when others weren’t so lucky. The best move, the smart one, was to push her away and get some breathing room.

“Two million dollars.”
That should do it
.

“What?”

He shrugged. “You asked for a number. I’m giving you one.”

Her hands balled into fists at her side. The fighting stance matched her stiff shoulders and locked jaw. “Be serious.”

“I don’t know why you think I’m kidding.” That was the number that would make him walk away. He’d split it with his brothers and take off. And he’d forget her. Face, body, flashing in her eyes. It would all disappear from his memory . . . eventually.

Her hand swept across the dark landscape. The back porch was barely visible under a dim, flickering lightbulb but the flat line of her mouth was. “This place isn’t worth that.”

“But that’s not the real question, is it?”

“Meaning?”

“What is it worth to you?” Something scurried through the brush off to his right and he decided to shut this conversation down before whatever was crawling around in there came out and said hello. If Leah screamed at seeing him, he didn’t want to know what sound she’d make if she came face-to-face with something furry and fanged.

“I’m trying to come up with a solution that works for everyone.” She held up her hands as if surrendering. “No threats. No snarkiness. I’m already tired of this fight.”

He could see the exhaustion tugging at the corner of her eyes and in the dark cloud over them. Sympathy rushed up on him and he tried to block it out. “I just got to town.”

“I’ve been fighting it my whole life.”

Well, shit
. She managed to hit on the one thing guaranteed to back him off. To make him feel something for her. He understood a lifetime battle against events that happened before he was born. “Look, Leah. I know there’s history here.”

“Your dad stole the place from mine.”

She just never stopped with this argument. He glanced into the woods and wondered if he could convince whatever was in there to scurry on out and eat him so he could get out of this conversation. He was willing to try anything at this point.

He gave repetition one last shot. “Charlie never owned this property or lived here. Hell, I’m not sure he even stayed overnight.” Good ‘ole Dad wasn’t exactly the staying type whether you were talking about houses, families or the right side of the law.

She waved the comment off. “Irrelevant.”

And like that his fury burst into a fireball again. His back teeth slammed together. “Gotta tell you it’s not easy to argue with a person who refuses to listen to reason.”

She folded her arms over her stomach. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

“Goodnight, Leah.” He turned to head across the lawn, skipping the zigzagging covert moves this time. No, he wanted her to watch him walk away. Maybe take a hint.

Her voice stopped him.

“Give me a real number and we’ll talk.” A shaky rush of words now replaced her rough tone.

He looked at her, ready to fire back . . . then he saw her wild eyes and arms wrapped so hard across her middle that he worried she’d hurt herself. Whatever had her poking and fighting went deeper than a simple dislike of Charlie.

Instead of cutting her off, a different comment rushed up his throat. “I’ll think about it.”

He wanted to call back the words as soon as they were out. Letting her think there was an opening made him a total ass. She needed to understand where his head was, but he wasn’t sure she could hear him now anyway. Or that’s the excuse he used when his gaze bounced off hers and the hope he saw there.

“Really?”

“I’ll meet you at the diner tomorrow morning at eight.” He’d figure out the right words by then and put them in the right order to end this. He owed it to his brothers to bring any real sales offers to them. No matter what he wanted, they were in this together. Their grandmother’s surprise will saw to that.

Leah’s mouth dropped open as the grip of her arms loosened and her hands fell to her sides. “Good grief, why? We don’t need food to work this out. Two people and a calculator should do it.”

“Again, a brushup on your negotiation skills wouldn’t be a waste of time. Cut out the screaming or threatening and skipping the trespassing would be a good start.”

“Answer the question.”

“I’ll sleep on it and we’ll talk then.” When he tried to walk away a second time, she grabbed onto his arm. Her cold fingers touched against his skin and he had to fight the urge to wrap an arm around her for warmth.

“Not the diner and Sunday instead of tomorrow,” she said.

“You have a date?” And why did the possibility kind of piss him off?

“We need an alternative meeting place.”

Now she had his attention. So did the raccoon the size of a small car that was ambling toward them. “Something wrong with the food at the diner?”

“You still have my number?”

“Somewhere. Why?” He gave the critter the side eye then stomped his foot to send it running. It probably would have worked if the raccoon knew he was supposed to be afraid and run. Instead, it found a log and sat down. Looked like Leah wasn’t the only bossy trespasser around here.

“Text me and I’ll send you my address.”

She didn’t look like she was joking. At this point, he wasn’t convinced she knew how. “Excuse me?”

“We’ll meet at my place.”

His mind went blank for a second. When his brain rebooted, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. “I never know where your mind is going to go or what you’re going to say.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She added to her point with a men-are-so-dumb eye roll. “You come over, have coffee, we reach a deal and no one from town has to see us together.”

“So, this is about not being seen with me.”

“Of course.”

Of course
. “I’m not sure how to respond to that. Once my ego recovers, I’ll let you know.”

“Just don’t be late.”

This time he was walking away. He had to before this conversation veered off in a new direction. And it was his turn to have the last word. Had to be by now. “You’re still on my property.”

He’d made it about five steps before he heard her amused voice. “I was here first.”

A smart man knew when to keep walking, so he did.

Chapter Five

It was as if the man had a magnet in his ass.

If Declan ventured from the house, she seemed to find him and stumble over him. This time at the gas station. Leah had been singing off-key to a song on the radio and generally trying not to think about her meeting with him tomorrow night and she conjured him up. She’d postponed the meeting to Sunday to have a day away from him and to put her argument together. So much for planning.

She had seriously considered riding around on an empty gas tank over pulling in next to him. But Bob, the owner of the mini-mart stepped out and her cover was blown. She turned off the ignition and stared out the front window. It was either that or glance over and see those faded jeans and that impressive butt, the same one on full view as Declan bent over the hood of his truck. Clearly the Hanover gene pool excelled in the looks department.

She opened the door, keeping her eye on him the entire time. The goal was to sneak along the side of the car, play it cool and get the hell out of there. She got to the tank and whipped the cap off.

He cleared his throat. “I can see you, you know.”

Well, damn
. “I know how this looks.”

He walked over and lifted the gas nozzle for her and started pumping her gas. “Like you have a significant stalker issue? Lucky for you I’m not the litigious type. I’m also not convinced I want you to go away.”

The move was so natural and non-threatening that she stepped back and let him do it. She tried to remember if any man had ever offered to pump her gas or just done it to be helpful. If this was part of some elaborate con to prove he was decent, she understood why men like Charlie were so successful. The moves worked. The charm reeled you in and you got hooked.

His words finally registered. “Wait . . . what?”

“Nothing.”

She reached for the hose. “I can get that.”

He set the lock and let the meter click as the tank filled. “It’s under control.”

“Are you going to pay for it, too?”

“If you need me to.”

Oh, lord, that smile. With the body and the face it amounted to a triple punch to a woman’s control. Smashed her common sense into a million pieces.

Much more of this and she’d be making him dinner. “Should I be worried?”

“About?” He put his hands in his front pockets. The move lifted his tee and showed off that sexy tattoo again.

Why couldn’t he have a duck or a naked woman or something totally unappealing? “You being nice to me.”

“Maybe I’m a nice guy.”

That was starting to be her concern. If he was who he appeared to be, then all those years of running around and investigating were a waste of time. Worse, her father would never accept news of a good-guy Hanover and she’d get stuck between the men and infuriate her father when she refused to ruin Declan. Not a battle she relished.

“Don’t sound so impressed with yourself,” she said, her voice more gruff than intended because of the thoughts running through her head.

He gave his eyes and neck an exaggerated roll. “We’re not going to fight, are we? Because I haven’t had my coffee yet and think I may need caffeine to do battle with you.”

“I told you I was done with fighting.” And she truly wanted to be. This went beyond his looks to a piece inside her that had snapped. She just didn’t crave justice, or what she’d been taught equaled justice, with the same intensity as she did before.

“I want to believe you, Leah.”

“Then do. What’s wrong with the truck?” When his eyes narrowed, she laughed. “Really, no games. I saw you looking under the hood.”

“Do you know something about engines?”

“Not a thing, but I do know mechanics and thought I could direct you.”

The gas clicked off and he put it away and closed her tank again. “No trouble. I was adding oil.”

“Good.”

“Is it?”

“You don’t trust me.” She didn’t ask it as a question because she knew the answer.

“I want to.”

For some reason she expected a smart-ass reply, not a serious one. “You do?”

A car horn honked and a man rolled down his window. “You two almost done?”

Declan nodded. “Sorry about that.”

The guy waved him off. “No trouble.”

“Looks like we are done.” Declan smiled down at her. “For now.”

***

Beck dropped in the chair across from Declan at the dinner table. He shifted papers and files around. “Tell me what we’re doing again.”

Declan snatched back the notepad he’d been using before Beck read through the notes and started dissecting them. Last thing he needed was a heavy dose of lawyer-ese. “Having the worst Saturday night in history.”

“That much is obvious, but what’s with all the documents?”

That’s the part Declan wasn’t quite ready to share. Being in the house with Beck for a few days felt right. They fixed the immediate problems and did a few woodworking projects. Well, Declan did, while Beck supervised. But launching into the offer for a buyout from Leah and their upcoming meeting struck Declan as premature. He wanted to see what she had to say first.

He also didn’t need twenty-four hours of brotherly advice about women, and that’s exactly what Beck would give him. The two times Leah’s name came up, Beck offered his thoughts on how best to handle her, and he wasn’t talking about the house.

Declan put his hands on top of the two files on either side of his notepad. “I’m trying to piece the house ownership records together.”

“Why?” Beck opened a beer then opened a second and passed it to Declan.

“I figure you’re not the only one who should know what’s going on.” And that was almost the truth. Up until now, before meeting Leah, Declan had blocked most of the details. He knew they owned Shadow Hill together and that it was in big financial trouble. End of story.

Now that he wanted to keep the house, he had to educate himself on every piece of paper. Mostly, he had to be ready for whatever argument Leah threw at him tomorrow.

Beck leaned on the back two legs of his chair. “I kind of like being the one in the know.”

“Of course you do.”

“Look, the house ownership is pretty simple.”

Declan learned long ago not to say that. It didn’t apply to any part of his life. “I’ve found that nothing about Charlie or his past is simple.”

“Well, this is really about Marc Baron and our grandmother.” The front legs of the chair hit the ground and Beck started sifting through the documents. He pulled out what looked like an old deed and put it in front of Declan. “Leah’s parents owned the house but lost it when they lost all of their money in Dad’s con.”

That much sounded familiar. “When he took the town’s finances.”

“He did more than that. He pocketed insurance funds, retirement funds and a special fund that was supposed to be used to market the town for tourists.” More shuffling, then Beck added other documents to the stack in front of Declan. “A big hotel chain was working with the town leadership at the time about building. The state was involved. All that stopped and the hotel pulled out when Charlie disappeared with the money.”

The question raced up his throat. Declan bit it back, thinking family harmony outweighed knowing the answer, but then he thought about Leah and the sadness that moved into her eyes when she talked about the house. Maybe hiding and avoiding weren’t the answer after all.

Declan tried to soften the blow of his words. “You realize this is the guy you defend all the time.”

His baby brother finally looked up. “Who?”

“Charlie…our father.”

“What I’ve said is he’s never been found guilty in court.”

That kind of parsing always led to trouble. Declan had heard it in the military when guys tried to justify bad decisions. He’d heard it when he was nineteen and Charlie popped up to talk about “the old days” and insisted he’d been the wronged party. “Beck, come on.”

“Guilt versus innocence is a big deal in my job,” Beck pointed out.

“But you just laid out—”

Beck held up a finger. “The allegations.”

This was a wall Declan couldn’t climb over. Not now. Being a smart guy, Beck knew the facts. He just added everything up and got a different result from most people. “Whatever. Keep going.”

There was a beat of tense silence. Some staring. Beck’s mouth tightened, but then he went back to the paper compiling. “The house went on the market. A series of families owned it and one wanted to break it into rooms as a bed and breakfast or something, but they couldn’t get the zoning changed.”

“I’m sure Marc Baron was at the bottom of that.” Declan could almost envision the man manipulating the rules to suit him.

Declan had never met the older man but he’d seen the letters and the lawsuit. Marc Baron spewed hate. Declan tried to chalk it up to the guy being betrayed by a friend and a person he trusted, but it went deeper. After all these years Leah’s dad hadn’t shown any signs of moving on. He still wrote hate mail to “the heirs of Charlie Hanover.” Declan hoped Leah hadn’t inherited those traits.

Beck’s beer bottle hit the table with a clank. “So, years later our Nanette steps in, uses the insurance money from our grandfather’s estate, and buys the house.”

“And Marc Baron has been imploding ever since.”

Beck sat back in his chair. “Something like that.”

As far as Declan could see, the situation was the exact opposite of simple. It was a complex mess.

He put his elbows on the table and dropped his forehead into his hands. “No wonder Leah is trying to get us to leave.”

“Well, there are rumors about her family and ours.”

Declan glanced up and stared at Beck. “That our dad ran off with her mother? Yeah, I don’t think that’s a rumor.”

In what was the most annoying sound on the planet, Beck tapped his pen against his front teeth. “Tell me how we got on the subject of Leah.”

Probably had something to do with her being in his thoughts all the time . . . but Declan wasn’t ready to share that little gem either. “I ran into her today.”

“Interesting.”

Beck’s smile begged to be punched off his face. Declan thought about doing just that. “Is it?”

“Well, were you wearing pants when you ran into her?”

And this came from one brother. Declan was starting to worry about the double whammy when Cal arrived. “It’s not like that.”

“But, again, or maybe I should say still, you want it to be.”

No kidding
. “She’s pretty.”

“I’m thinking there might be some other pretty women in this town.”

So why couldn’t he stop wanting this one? “She’s connected to the house, to us. For whatever reason that makes her more compelling.”

Beck shook his head and laughed.

“What?”

“If you think that’s what makes her compelling then I think you spent too much time on military bases in countries with limited access to women.”

Declan refused to analyze that comment. Still, running the idea by someone wasn’t a terrible idea. “Going out with her would be a mistake. I mean, it’s a bad idea, right?”

“Is that what’s happening? Are you two going out?”

In Declan’s mind, yes. In hers? He doubted it. “Not yet.”

His baby brother grew all serious. Even sat up straight in his chair and put the beer down. “Just be smart.”

Okay, that was too much
. “Are you giving me the condom talk, because Mom delivered that one years ago.”

“Go slow, make sure this is about whatever you’re feeling for her and not guilt or something similar.”

“I don’t even know if I’m going to make a move yet.” But he was. Hell, he’d already started. Every minute with her was laying the groundwork to something bigger. Just knowing she lived across town and was this close made him twitchy. He didn’t have Beck’s brains but Declan got that much. “Hell, she might not want me to make a move.”

“From the fire I saw snapping between you two, I’m thinking you doing something and her reciprocating is inevitable.”

That’s what Declan was starting to believe, too.

***

Leah stared at the huge, freestanding whiteboard. She had pictures and notes on each of the Hanover men taped to it, along with comments she’d written to make the necessary connections between them and the victims she’d interviewed or had her investigator talk to back when she had one of those.

Every inch of the board held a piece of information, and still she couldn’t put references to even twenty percent of Charlie’s known cons up there. But she could see it all. The wives. The children. The lies.

Setting it out like this made Charlie’s actions so clear. But it just muddied everything about the sons. Nothing tied them to their father’s crimes. It had been that way in the files and was confirmed when she tried this method. So much destruction and sadness, but it all linked to Charlie.

She’d hoped to find something. Maybe that one piece of information that triggered a memory or flicked on a light. At the very least, she needed a single nibble to use in her meeting with Declan. A fact she could wave around and convince him to leave and take his brothers with him. She needed that not just to get the house back, but to remove Declan from the county before she lost her mind.

She’d spent hours last night thinking about kissing him. Remembering the ease with which he stepped in and pumped her gas. It was something so unimportant yet it stuck in her head. Not controlling, not jerky, just kind of . . . sweet.

She let out a long groan. Man, he could not be sweet. The combination of sweet and sexy would crack the last of her control. She needed to be strong and professional. To set ground rules and then follow them.

Mostly, she needed to win this round or she risked losing everything.