For the Right Reasons Read online

Page 12


  “He might change his mind if there’s new information,” Bree argued. “Anyway, the only reason Daniel said no was because of you.”

  Eric groaned. “Let’s not go there again.”

  But now Bree was on the warpath. “You have a personal grudge against Kelly, and I totally understand why. What I don’t understand is why you’re still involved in this mess.”

  “‘This mess’ is finding Philomene. That’s a separate issue from getting your friend out of prison.”

  “Someone’s missing?” Elena asked.

  “Yes.” Bree, perhaps sensing a sympathetic audience, appealed to Elena. “An eyewitness who was going to change her story. She’s missing, and there was blood found in her car—”

  “Elena doesn’t have to hear the whole story,” Eric objected.

  “Yes, I do. I’m interested. Eric, you could at least offer your guest something to eat.” She went to the fridge and pulled out some hummus, pairing it with crackers she poured into a bowl.

  “Thanks, that’s really nice.” Bree nibbled a cracker politely, swallowing quickly. “I’ll make it fast. It’s possible the local sheriff is involved, which means I can’t trust him to find Philomene. I think the timing of Philomene’s disappearance is fishy, and I think Mr. Logan might want to reconsider his decision in light of new information.”

  Elena pulled out a chair and sat down, lazily spreading some hummus on a cracker. “And he turned you down the first time because...?”

  “Because Eric told him to. Because he knows my friend Kelly—”

  “Boyfriend—”

  “Ex-boyfriend, not that it’s relevant. Eric knew Kelly in prison and they...didn’t get along.”

  “Do I have to take my shirt off again?”

  Elena dropped the cracker and held out both of her palms toward them. “Whoa. Both of you. Eric, obviously you have a bias against the potential client.”

  “A fair bias. The guy tried to kill me.”

  “But I think Bree has a point. If there’s a dirty cop involved in all this, you should at least talk to Daniel again and see what he recommends. He may not want Project Justice to take on the case—Eric is right in that he usually does stand by his decisions.”

  “Thank you,” Eric said with a nod for the crumb.

  “But maybe he knows a good private investigator or a state senator or a reporter—he knows a lot of powerful people.”

  “There, you see?” Bree said.

  The door from the garage opened and closed. “Anybody home?”

  “In the kitchen, Trav,” Elena called back.

  Great. All Eric needed to make this day complete was for Travis to weigh in on this whole Ralston-Philomene-DeVille mess. Travis might be a big rough, tough construction worker, but he had a soft heart and he would no doubt side with the angelic-looking Bree.

  Travis appeared in the doorway from the garage with eyes only for Elena. “Oh, good, you’re home. I need to go pick up that radial arm saw tonight, and it’s a good two hours away.”

  “You’re going to miss dinner again?” Elena said with a pout.

  “I thought you’d want to come with me. I’ll take you out to dinner. Eric has a date.”

  “Not exactly. We’ll have to put off PizzaMania. MacKenzie has a tummy bug. But you two do what you need to do. Radial arm saw, huh?” Anything he could do to get his brother and sister-in-law out of the house would at least even the odds.

  Elena looked at Eric uncertainly. “I’d love to, Trav, but MacKenzie is home sick and I hate to leave Eric—”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Eric said. “I can look after her.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. She’s my daughter. And I’ve got a doctor right here.”

  Travis looked at Bree for the first time. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even see you there.”

  Eric introduced them without making any explanations. Thankfully, his brother was too distracted thinking about his new saw to question what Bree was doing there.

  Elena scribbled something down on a piece of paper and handed it to Bree. “Daniel’s private number. Tell him I said you should call him. And whatever you do, don’t ever give it to anyone else.”

  “Thank you, Elena.”

  Elena grabbed her purse, making a hasty, apologetic departure with her husband, leaving Eric and Bree blessedly alone again.

  Bree wasted no time taking out her phone.

  “You’re really going to call him? Right now?”

  “Of course. I don’t see the point in wasting time.”

  “What would it take to get you to not involve my boss?” Eric fished for an argument she might accept. “You can see where this is going, right? The fact I’ve gotten involved in your...your problems, despite recommending that Project Justice reject your case—it doesn’t look good. I’ve been working there only a few days. I need this job. MacKenzie sees a very expensive therapist.”

  Bree set the phone on the table, frowning, and ate another cracker. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.” Her smooth forehead developed a little crease between her brows as she thought about it. “Okay. If you want me to stay away from your boss, here’s what you have to do. You have to talk to Kelly. Face-to-face.”

  “What?” Just the idea of seeing that monster again made Eric’s stomach queasy. “You are out of your mind.”

  Bree shrugged. “You might see another side of him.”

  “And he might punch my face in.” Eric was hoping Kelly would forget all about Eric Riggs—out of sight, out of mind. Surely he had plenty of fellow inmates onto which he could inflict his brand of pain.

  “I guess I can understand why you wouldn’t want to go back there. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like to lose your freedom. Now that you have it back... Yeah, I’d be afraid to go back. Afraid they might clang the doors shut on me and not let me—”

  “I’m not afraid!” The words came out as a knee-jerk reaction. No guy wanted a beautiful woman to think he was a coward.

  “No? Then why won’t you do it? A pleasant drive, a fifteen-minute conversation...”

  “And my job is safe. Yeah, I get it.” She was outmanipulating him. Again.

  Bree’s face softened. “I wouldn’t deliberately get you in trouble with your boss. It’s just—”

  “I’ll do it. I’ll confront the son of a bitch. And then maybe you’ll see another side of him.” This could work. He could provoke Ralston. Get him to lose his temper. Then maybe Bree would see the real Ralston, the man who thought threatening to dismember a little girl was some sort of joke.

  “Really? You’ll talk to Kelly?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Oh, Eric, thank you!” Before Eric knew what was happening, he had a warm, vibrant female pressed against him. Without meaning to, he let his arms slip around her. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve her enthusiastic gratitude, but he couldn’t seem to turn it down.

  Talking to Ralston wouldn’t bring Philomene back, that was for sure.

  “When can we arrange it?” she asked.

  “As soon as possible. I don’t want this thing dragging on.”

  “Sunday? That’s the regular family visiting day.” She had pulled back enough that she could look him in the eye, but they were still in an embrace, and she made no move to end it.

  “Sunday it is.”

  “Thank you,” she said again. “I’m just a major pain in your ass, aren’t I?” Then she kissed him. Her lips were soft and warm and filled with...invitation? She showed no restraint, pressing her body against his, letting her hands roam, her fingers muss his short hair.

  Eric knew this was wrong on so many levels. But he was unable to push her away or object. Yes, she’d been a major pain ever since she
’d appeared in his life, looking deceptively like an angel. But she had also haunted his dreams, day and night, unlike any woman he’d ever known.

  He didn’t want a woman in his life. He and MacKenzie were just getting started repairing their father-daughter relationship. He had a new job. He needed to find a new place to live.

  Even if he wanted a girlfriend, what kind of sucker would he be if he fell for Bree? She was using him. He’d been one woman’s patsy, and he wasn’t going to do that again.

  He needed to end this, to push Bree away and tell her he wasn’t interested. But how could he do that when his mind was so full of her, the feel of her hair, the scent of her skin, the intriguing pressure of her mouth as he pressed his own against it. She seemed to open up like a flower in the sun.

  “Bree,” he said on a groan. “We can’t...”

  “I know,” she said, sounding a little desperate. “Not with MacKenzie right upstairs.”

  That was only part of the reason. “Bree...it’s not that I don’t want you—I do. But I’m not in any position to...” How could he make her understand?

  “You don’t have to explain anything. It’s not like I’m any prize when it comes to relationship material. I just thought— You’re the first man I’ve met in so long who actually listens to me, who doesn’t just dismiss me. You may not agree with me all the time—”

  “I almost never agree with you,” he corrected her.

  “I know. But you listen. You want to help.” She looked down and licked her lips. Eric’s knees went soft. “Maybe that’s no basis on which to form a relationship, or liaison, or whatever the hell I think I’m doing here.”

  “Relationships have been forged with far less.” What the hell was he doing? He needed to shut up.

  “If it helps,” she said, “I’m not looking for anything long-term. I don’t have a lot to contribute. I work all the time, and when I’m not working, I tend to get wrapped up in causes. Well, one cause. Freeing Kelly has consumed my life the last few years. I can’t cook. I don’t keep house. I make lousy small talk on a date.”

  “I bet you do some things well.” Jeez, why would he say something so suggestive?

  “Truth be told, it’s been so long I’m not sure I do that well, either. I think I’ve forgotten how. Certainly this approach lacks finesse.” She laughed to herself as she loosened her hold on him.

  She was giving him an escape route, but he didn’t take it. “Nothing wrong with your approach. There’s a distinct...straightforwardness about it.”

  “So subtlety is not my strong suit.”

  “Subtlety is overrated. Actually, I like to know what a woman’s thinking. I don’t like having to guess what she wants. My wife... She played games and I didn’t even know it.”

  “But you still love her,” Bree concluded.

  “Let’s just say I’m still processing. I have a lot going on. You really don’t want to saddle yourself with my problems.” Not that she had suggested anything of the sort.

  “Okay, so it’s settled. Neither one of us is a candidate for a relationship. Neither of us would be lucky to have the other. So why are we still standing here in your kitchen holding each other?”

  Good question. “Because I’m having a hard time letting you go. I may disagree with you most of the time. But I admire your passion and your loyalty. Frankly, I find it an incredible turn-on.” That one kiss had aroused him to the point where he didn’t think he could walk.

  “So does your bedroom door have a lock?”

  Oh, God. Somehow he had failed to discourage her. Had he really been trying to? Basically, she was offering herself to him, no strings attached. Just two consenting adults who found each other desirable letting off a little steam.

  It had been a long time.

  When he didn’t immediately say no, she flashed an impish smile and took his hand, leading him toward the stairs. If he didn’t stop it, this was going to happen. He knew there were condoms in this house somewhere.

  When they reached the top of the stairs, Eric peeked into MacKenzie’s bedroom. “Still asleep,” he whispered, softly closing her door.

  His room was across the hall from his daughter’s. He’d never paid attention before, but the door did indeed have a lock. He was awfully glad he’d chosen to make his bed that morning and that he hadn’t left any dirty laundry lying around on the floor. Since he was a guest in Travis and Elena’s home, he tried to be tidy. But he didn’t always succeed.

  Still hand in hand, Eric and Bree stopped beside the bed. He sat her down on the edge of the mattress and kissed her on the forehead. “If I step out for a minute, will you still be here?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You might change your mind.”

  She smiled wickedly and shook her head. “No way.”

  Nonetheless, Eric was quick as he crossed through the master bedroom and into the bathroom. A hasty search of cabinets and drawers finally netted him what he wanted. He stuck the packet in his pocket and headed back to his own room, his steps light. It shouldn’t feel this good, the anticipation. He was about to make love to a woman who wasn’t his wife, the first since he and Tammy had married. However long it had been for Bree, it had probably been longer for Eric.

  When he opened his bedroom door, he almost fainted. Bree was in his bed and she was naked.

  “Well.”

  “Well, indeed. I thought maybe you were the one about to change his mind.”

  “And you thought you’d make it a little harder for me to do that.”

  She nodded. The covers were drawn up just over her breasts, revealing her creamy white shoulders, a stark contrast against her black hair, which hung artfully over her flesh. His mouth went dry.

  “Are you going to join me? Or do I have to get up and undress you?”

  He let his mind linger on that mental image for a few moments—Bree’s lovely, delicate hands working the buttons on his shirt, sliding beneath the starched cotton to his heated skin. He would love for her to undress him. But maybe another time. Because appealing as that thought was, the thought of lying beneath the covers with her, both of them naked, was even better.

  He undressed in record time. Shirt, tie, shoes, pants—all of it was peeled off and ended up in a pile on the floor. All the while he undressed, Bree watched, her eyes filled with admiration. He wasn’t sure why. Although all of his life people had told him he was handsome, he hadn’t felt that way since before prison.

  When he’d first gotten out, he’d gone straight to take a shower and change clothes. He’d examined himself critically in the bathroom’s full-length mirror for the first time in years and had been shocked at what he saw. Despite working out in his cell on a regular basis, he was skinny. And pale. His face was gaunt, his hair dull and ragged. The running joke was that the prison barber had learned how to cut hair by trimming trees.

  A few weeks had passed and Eric had put on a few pounds. His hair had grown, and he’d gotten it cut by a decent barber. But he was still no one’s pinup model—especially not with that puckered scar across his chest.

  Eric pulled back the covers and slid between the sheets. At first he didn’t touch Bree; he just looked at her, and she did the same. He couldn’t believe this was happening, and she seemed a little surprised by the turn of events herself.

  Finally she raised her arm and touched his shoulder, then ran her fingertips softly across the scar tissue, from one end of it to the other. He sucked in a breath, almost expecting it to hurt. But the wound had finally healed, and her touch felt amazing.

  “This must have hurt something fierce,” she said.

  Eric didn’t remember the pain so much as the fear. His body must have been pumped with so much adrenaline that the pain had been irrelevant.

  He grasped her hand and pulled it away from the scar. �
��I don’t want to think about that right now. Someday I hope my time in prison will seem nothing more than a bad dream. But right now it’s still too fresh.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to be. I think the thing to do is to create new memories, better memories, that will push out the bad ones.”

  “I’m all for that.”

  They kissed again. This time Eric held nothing back, practically devouring her with the force of his desire. She opened her mouth greedily, welcoming the intrusion of his tongue. His hands were all over her. Her breasts— He was holding one of her breasts and if he hadn’t already been lying down, he’d have fallen. There was just nothing like the feel of a woman’s breast. Bree’s weren’t large, but they were round and firm and just about the nicest thing he’d ever put in his hand.

  Bree’s hands were busy, too, testing, exploring.

  It didn’t take her long to find the evidence of his desire. He was unapologetically hard for her—how could he not be? He would’ve been more than happy to plunge himself inside her anytime she said. But he wasn’t a caveman, never mind his eagerness. This wasn’t the sort of lovemaking session that would go on for hours—not with MacKenzie asleep across the hall. But neither did he want to rush Bree. If this was going to be their only time in bed, he wanted it to be good for her. He didn’t want her to regret what they were about to do.

  She wrapped one hand around him and he gasped with pleasure and delight over her boldness. She was certainly not shy.

  “I love that I have this effect on you,” she whispered in his ear. “You seem so...stoic. I didn’t imagine you would be this responsive.”

  “Are you kidding? How could any man not be responsive to you? You’re like...perfect. The first time I saw you, I thought you looked like an angel.”

  She laughed at that. “Oh, right. I’m so angelic.”

  “Well, maybe not your personality.”

  She swung one leg over him and climbed on top, brushing her neatly trimmed bush against his erection in a definitely purposeful way. “Not angelic, hmm?”