The Sex On Beach Book Club (3 page)

Certainly not a dining room, she guessed it was Wes's reading room or library. She walked to the massive bookcase. Right away she could see that he liked mysteries and autobiographies on sports stars.

She whirled around at the sound of footsteps. Wes filled the doorway, holding the puppy and a plastic bowl. He lifted the bowl and said, “Dog food from a neighbor.”

She tried to look casual. “I wondered where you went.”

He bent over and set the puppy on the floor with the bowl of food. Once the puppy stuck his face into the bowl and started chowing down, Wes stood up to his full height of at least six feet. He dropped his gaze over her, slow and measured, then said, “You look hot in my T-shirt.”

To keep her mind off the heat in his green eyes, she glanced over her shoulder at the bookshelf behind her. “Uh, you really do like to read.”

“Ever since I can remember.” Wes walked into the room and went to the table to scoop up the baseball. He tossed it back and forth in his hands with a practiced ease, even while looking at her. “Do you like to read?”

“I like movies better, but sure, I read.” It was mesmerizing to watch him toss the ball back and forth. “Play much?”

“What's that?”

She realized he wasn't really aware of what he was doing with the ball. “Baseball,” she said dryly.

He looked down at his hands, then tossed the ball into one of the chairs and walked toward her. “I played a bit when I was a kid.”

Her mystery man was back, and standing too close, making her restless. Time to find out what she needed to know and leave. Holding her spine straight, she said, “You never answered me. Was that Cullen's boat he and Tanya got on tonight?”

His full mouth tilted in a sexy, rueful grin. “Real estate, huh?”

“What?” She frowned and tried to follow him. After a second, she said, “Oh, my job? Yeah. Why?”

He put one hand on the bookcase just over her head. “Because you're after something, Hillbay.”

The challenge crackled in the tiny space between them. She could not have looked away from him if the house were on fire. He returned her stare with a similar concentration. He couldn't know she was a private investigator or he'd lord it over her. Press his advantage. So what was up? Did Wes Brockman have something to hide? She met his challenge with, “And you aren't the average bookstore owner, Brockman.”

His green eyes grew secretive and, yet, even sexier. “I love books. Look at my library.”

She couldn't look at his library because she was looking at him. “Nope. You only opened the bookstore three years ago. This has to be your second career. What was your first?” The one she guessed he'd made a lot of money at. He looked like money, and she didn't need to be a real estate agent to know that this beach house wasn't cheap.

The silence stretched out. She could hear the puppy pushing the bowl on the wood floor as he ate. She could hear the waves from the ocean outside. She could hear the thump of her heart beating.

Finally Wes said, “It's Cullen's boat.” Then he slid his hand down the side of the bookcase, over her shoulder, and wrapped it around the back of her neck. “Truce for tonight? No more questions?”

He had the most incredible eyes. But she had work to do. “I need to go.”

“Stay.” It came out a rough whisper.

His fingers on her neck were warm and solid. Needy little tremors started again deep in her belly. Beneath his shirt her nipples hardened. His mouth was two inches from hers. She could see the shadow on his jaw, knew if she rubbed her face against him, she'd feel the rough beginnings of a beard. What made her so powerfully attracted to him? She had never felt anything like it. Was it his secrets, or his sex appeal? “I need to—”

He lowered his mouth another inch. His rubbed his hand over the bare skin just below her hairline on the back of her neck. “Tell me what you need, Holly.”

Hot sex, now.
Her heartbeat ramped up, pumping her blood into a painful throb. “You're trying to seduce me.” Had it been that long since a man had seduced her? Yeah, it had.

“Trying, my ass. I'm succeeding.” Using his hand on the back of her neck, he pulled her a half inch closer and brushed his mouth over hers. Then he made a thick sound in his throat and wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her hard into a deep, wet kiss.

She felt his strength and felt herself surrendering to it. His body heat sank deep into her skin. He shifted his mouth and teased her tongue with his. Everything heated, and Holly met his tongue play. She ran her hands under his shirt, feeling his hot skin, pulled smooth and tight over hard muscles.

She wanted to lose herself in Wes.

The realization shocked her. Holly pulled back.

Wes let her go. Dropping his arms to his side, he looked down. “Afraid?”

More like pissed. Pissed that he could overwhelm her like that. Make her forget herself. “Get over yourself, Brockman. I told you I don't sleep with men on the first date.”
Date. Too personal.
She hurried around him, putting distance between them. “And this wasn't a date.” She went into the kitchen, grabbed her purse, damp shirt, and bra off the table.

The puppy woke up from his nap and jumped up to dash around her feet, barking and whining.

Behind her, Wes said, “He wants you to pick him up.”

She looked down. The little guy was wiggling his entire body, making funny little whiny noises, then jumping up on his back legs.

She longed to pick him up. She longed to stay and get naked with Wes. But she had a job to do. Her work was her life, not a silly puppy and an overwhelming man. She took a breath. “Thanks for dinner. 'Bye, Wes.” She moved around the puppy and walked to the front door.

Wes caught her arm before she reached the door. “Hey.”

She turned around, ready to smack him. Or maybe shoot him. Anything to get free. “What?”

He grinned. “It was a date. You know where to find me when you're ready for date number two.”

H
olly was just pouring her first cup of morning coffee, and trying to think of anything but Wes Brockman, when someone knocked on her front door.

“Damn.” She had spent a couple hours working last night after leaving Wes's house, had gotten to bed after midnight, and dragged her tired ass out of bed for a run this morning. She hoped whoever it was would go away, but then she heard the key in the lock.

Figured. She knew who it was. Her two brothers, fraternal twins and the bane of her childhood, let themselves into her house. They both hovered around the six-foot mark, had sandy brown hair and blue eyes. Joe was a little taller and thinner, and tended to actually think things out once in a while. Seth had more bulk, charisma to spare, and a hair-trigger temper that he'd learned to control. Nearly ten years as sheriff's deputies had smoothed out some of their rough edges.

Joe came into the kitchen first, carrying a pink box that smelled like heaven. “Better be coffee. I brought donuts.”

That made her suspicious. “What do you want?”

Seth came into the kitchen with a smirk. Reaching over her head to get a couple of mugs down from the cupboard, he said, “We're here to check up on you, AP.”

Holly worked hard not to react to the nickname. AP stood for Anti-Princess. She was the youngest of the three of them. Her mom had wanted a little princess, but she'd gotten Holly instead. By the time Holly was seven, her mom figured out she wasn't cut out for parenting two rough and tumble boys and a girl who was more hellion than princess. They'd only seen their mom a handful of times since then. She turned her attention to figuring out why both her brothers had paid her a morning visit with donuts. “You two looking for some extra work?” Sometimes her brothers moonlighted for her when she had the work for them. She added, “I don't have any work for you right now.”

Joe dumped the box of donuts on Holly's table at the end of the kitchen overlooking her small patio. He walked back to pour his coffee. Looking down at her, he said, “Maybe we wanted to hang out with our little sister.”

Holly snorted and went to the table. Lucky for her brothers, she found a chocolate donut. “You don't bring me chocolate donuts unless you want something.” She looked at Joe and Seth. “Which one of you is in trouble?”

Seth went to the table and fished out a donut with sprinkles. “We're not in trouble, are you?”

She had spent nearly three years working her ass off to build her private investigation agency,
Hillbay Investigations
. For the most part, Holly was a one-woman show and liked it that way. But her brothers were damn good cops and they heard things in the community. They'd probably heard she lost a client. “Nope. No trouble I can't handle.”

Joe leaned back against the counter by the coffeemaker. “You know, Seth, sometimes I think Holly believes we're stupid.”

“Duh,” Holly said.

Seth managed to swallow the better part of his donut, then sighed. “Now that's not nice, AP. Joe and me are here to help you.”

Argh.
She lifted her gaze to Seth's matching blue stare.

“I lose one client and you two suddenly think I need the cavalry?” That was just insulting. “I signed a new client yesterday that will help offset the loss. Now go catch some bad guys and leave me alone.”

Seth frowned. “What client? You lost a client?”

Well, crap. She was tired, she hadn't been able to take a breath without thinking about Wes since last night, and now she'd just told her brothers information she'd intended to keep to herself. “And got a new client,” she snapped.

Joe set down his coffee cup and locked his gaze on her. “What happened, Holly?”

She shrugged. “A client I did routine new-hire backgrounds for went with another PI. No big deal.” Except that she thought that Brad the Cad was behind it, but that was her problem, not her brothers'. She didn't dare let her brothers know her suspicions.

Seth's voice dropped to pissy. “See, Joe, she thinks we're dumb.”

Joe kept his slow and steady gaze on her. “Holly, been on any dates lately?”

Startled at the change of subject, she knew her eyes went wide. “What's that?”

“Dates?” Joe said with a smirk. “With a guy. You know, go out, have drinks, make out. That kind of thing?”

What?
Immediately her evening with Wes the night before swam up in her brain. Had they been spying on her? Holly pulled herself together. She was being ridiculous. “No. Are you two so hard up for dates that you have to live vicariously through my social life?”

Seth grinned. “Checked your e-mail lately?”

She shot back, “Why? Are you out of Viagra?”

Joe roared out laughing. “She got you with that one.”

Seth leaned down toward Holly. “Do you like the taste of soap, baby sister?”

She sipped some coffee and made a quick decision. Whatever mysterious thing that had brought her brothers to her house must have something to do with e-mail. She shoved her elbow into Seth's rib cage to push him away from her, then walked through the kitchen and turned left into the living room. Left of that was her dining room, which she used as a home office. Her computer was already booted up. She sat in her chair and signed onto her Internet server.

Joe and Seth followed her into the room.

She scanned her inbox and her gaze caught on an e-mail from The O'Man. He had a blog—the correct term was Web log—which was a Web site where people could keep sort of a public diary. Holly opened the blog and looked around, quickly discovering that the O'Man was some kind of sexist Neanderthal. He had a special feature where if a person signed up with their e-mail address, he would send the day's blog to that e-mail address. Holly hadn't signed up. Obviously her brothers had signed her up. Her soon-to-be-bleeding brothers.

On the blog, she read the latest entry:
The ball-buster. You know the type. The kind of anti-princess type of woman who carries a gun, maybe even a badge, and thinks she can take down a man. Maybe, deep down, she wants to be a man.

Penis Envy, some doc had said.

But I'm The O'Man, and I can make these ball-buster women heel. And beg. And cry out, “O'Man!”

Holly lifted her gaze, first looking at Joe, then Seth. Growing up, her brothers had teased her about being a tomboy. These days, they harped on her recent lack of boyfriends while building her PI business. But this didn't seem like their style. She leaned back in her chair and studied them. “Why did you send this to me?”

Joe slapped his coffee cup on her desk. Even with her desk between them, she could feel his anger. His blue eyes were cold as steel. “Do you know who this guy is, Hol?”

She realized that she had misjudged the situation. Her brothers weren't there to harass her or pick up some extra work. They were pissed. “No. Why, what's up?”

Seth glanced at Joe, then at Holly. “Don't act dense. That's you he's talking about, Holly. I recognized you when I read his blog last night, which is why I sent it to you. Do you think it's Brad?”

It finally slammed into her. Oh God, they thought her ex-boyfriend was behind this blog. Holly had dated Bradley Knoll a few years ago; in fact, she'd been engaged to him. It had ended badly. Brad did his best to badmouth Holly and her family whenever he could. “Brad the Cad didn't do this Web site. He's too intent on being a defender of women and children to risk it.” Brad used his law degree to sue everyone he could for any perceived offense against women and children. Truth and justice were flexible ideals in Brad's world. What mattered to him were money, prestige, and face time on TV.

Seth stood up from where he'd parked his butt on the side of her desk, his handsome face hardening to pure cop. “Anti-Princess. Where'd this guy on the Web site get that? Only Joe and I ever call you that and Brad knew it.”

Joe leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, and zeroed his stern gaze in on her. “Is it someone else? Some guy you dated?”

Holly rolled her eyes. Every now and again, Seth and Joe had a rush of testosterone which sparked the asinine idea that they needed to protect her. “It's not me that guy's talking about. I don't have the slightest idea who this yahoo is. But”—she glared at both of them—“if I did know him, and he was talking about me, I wouldn't need your help setting him straight.”

Seth opened his mouth, but Joe cut him off. “That's the truth?”

Tamping down on her exasperation, she put herself in their places for a moment. What if a woman had used one of her brothers then made fun of him on a Web site? Would Holly go after her?

Damn right she would.

She kept her answer simple. “Yes.”

Seth moved around the desk, put his hand on the back of Holly's chair, and leaned down. “I know you can take care of yourself, AP. But Joe and me, we're family. You would come to us if some guy screwed you over, right?”

Only if she wanted to bail her brothers out of jail. Cops didn't do well in jail, so that wasn't an option. Besides, she didn't need her brothers to do that whole knight-in-shining-armor crap. Holly liked to do her own ass-kicking when the situation called for it. She met Seth's gaze. “Absolutely.”

Joe laughed. “She's lying. We'd have to lock her in a room with no coffee or chocolate and sweat it out of her.” He moved from the other side of her desk to pace around her living room.

Seth lowered his face closer to hers. “Don't think we wouldn't do that if you were in trouble.”

She didn't think that for a second. “Don't you guys have a job or something?”

Joe came back, carrying a shirt. “Thought you said you weren't dating anyone.”

She looked up to see Wes's shirt, which she had left on the couch. With a deadpan expression, she said, “I'm not. I just have sex with a different man every night and steal their shirts. But I don't date them.”

Joe blinked like someone had suddenly turned a strobe light on him.

Seth choked on his coffee.

Holly said, “Any other questions? Or do you think I can go to work now? I need to drop that shirt off to the man I borrowed it from and then do some surveillance.”

Joe tossed the shirt at her. “Surveillance for your new case? What's the case about?”

Holly caught the shirt and set it on the desk. “A cheater. I'm getting evidence so the man can invoke a clause in his prenuptial that will seriously reduce the wife's payout in the divorce.”

“Domestics can get ugly,” Seth reminded her as he walked back from getting a third donut.

“This one is pretty basic. Except the husband had the wrong man. But I found the right one last night.” Holly caught them up on the book club. She explained about Tanya and Cullen. “I staked out her car last night.” Glancing at her notes, she read, “Cullen dropped Tanya off at her car in the public parking lot behind the bookstore at ten-thirty
P
.
M
. The two of them played tongue hockey for fifteen minutes, then Tanya got in her car and drove away at ten-forty-five. I followed her home and watched her go inside the house. I stayed another twenty minutes, but she appeared in for the night. I'll have all the photos and reports I need on this one inside of a week or so. They aren't even hiding the affair.”

Seth said, “Standard boring stakeout stuff. Let's talk about the dinner with this bookstore owner. You ended up with his shirt how?”

Holly just shook her head at her brothers. What had she expected? They were men. “I held my gun on the bookstore owner and made him take his shirt off. It's my hobby. And if you two don't leave, I'm going to get my gun and start shooting.”

Joe picked up his coffee cup and looked at Seth. “I think we should leave before she gets in a bad mood.”

Seth laughed. “Ever seen her in a good mood?”

Joe studied her. “Now that would be scary.” Grinning, he lifted his cup. “I'm taking my coffee with me.”

Holly waved him away. “Whatever. You both still owe me a hundred bucks. Don't think I've forgotten!”

Joe looked back at her. “We said six years.”

Holly narrowed her gaze. “You said five! You said I wouldn't last five years as a cop. I lasted five and a half years!” Her brothers had predicted that Holly was too much of a rule-breaker—as she remembered them saying,
“a kick-ass rule-breaker”
—to deal with the rules and regulations that govern a police officer's actions.

Joe shook his head. “Six. But math never was your strongest subject, now was it, Holly?” He turned and strode out the door, with Seth following behind.

She waited until the door closed before she smiled. They'd had this same argument for years, ever since Holly quit the sheriff's department and started her PI agency. But her brothers knew how much her PI agency meant to her. They knew she had nothing else—and she never would. Any dreams she might have once had about a husband and family…