“Don’t forget to let that kid of yours know who got sent home from my show,” Lynn said at the door.
“You let her watch it?” Kelli asked, ready to admonish her. Lynn kept walking away with a wave.
“Just tell her it was the guy with the silly shirt. She’ll know what I’m talking about.”
Kelli laughed and shut the door after Lynn was safe in her car. She bumped her hip against the door to make sure it was shut all the way, threw the deadbolt and turned off the porch light. The cold of the hardwood floor made her pause. Moving across town to be closer to Lynn—and in a more affordable place—was definitely a move she needed to make, but...
She placed her hand on the door. It was polished and perfect. It reminded her of Victor picking her up and walking her over the threshold when they first got back from their honeymoon. He had insisted, even though they’d been living together for months.
Memories like that made her heart heavy as she walked through the house.
Heavy with love.
Heavy with loss.
She dropped her hand from the door and let out a long breath. Just because she was leaving didn’t mean she was leaving the memories, too. With a weird ache tearing through her emotions, Kelli decided to go to the one place that often helped soothe the rising grief.
Since Grace’s bedroom was mostly boxed up, the toddler had been sharing the king-size bed with her mom. Though the bed never seemed big enough if Grace got into a good dream. Kelli stood in the doorway and watched as the fair-haired child slept peacefully, unaware of her mother’s tumultuous thoughts. The ache within her began to dissipate.
Without undressing, she climbed into bed next to the girl, wrapping her arms around her. Grace—a snuggler—burrowed closer to her.
You’re okay, Kel. You’ve got all you need right here.
But even as she drifted to sleep, letting go of the hectic night’s worries, Kelli couldn’t help but pinpoint the one fact that felt off about her night’s bad luck.
Why hadn’t the mugger taken anything?
In the haze between wakefulness and sleep, her thoughts went to Victor’s journal, hidden in a box in the kitchen.
Maybe he’d been looking for something more specific.
Guilt hung heavy within Mark’s chest. Lying in bed, he couldn’t get the image of Kelli’s scraped cheek out of his head. What was it about the Cranes that nulled his ability to keep them safe? It was a question that had pushed itself to the front of his mind during his cab ride home the night before...and it had still been there when he awoke.
“Get it together, Tranton,” he scolded himself. “The past is the past.” But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. The past had called him back to his favorite bar, asking him to avenge a man who died because of him.
The weather forecast was clear for today, but a storm was in the distance. He could smell the rain as he walked to his small balcony. Drought for months and then nothing but rain. Dallas was consistent with its weather inconsistency.
He moved through his apartment, trying to focus on anything other than last night. It wasn’t working.
“Have you ever had a gut feeling, Mr. Tranton?”
Yes.
That Darwin McGregor wasn’t behind the fire.
But he wasn’t in the business of trusting his gut. Not anymore. Not when it hadn’t even twinged at the cabin that night.
Mark skipped his morning gym session and went straight for the shower. He managed to wipe his mind of any thoughts of the past. So much so that when he got out and looked at himself in the mirror, he took a moment to shave. Jonathan Carmichael would have been proud. Every time they had worked together during their time at Redstone Solutions or the Orion Security Group, he had always commented on Mark’s five-o’clock shadow and lack of neatness. Facial hair hadn’t been a point of fixation for the ex-bodyguard, and that had driven Jonathan a little crazy.
“You look like you’re the one we’re protecting our client from.”
The memory made him snort.
And now I don’t protect anyone.
His hand paused midmotion.
Once he had shaved, he decided Jonathan would’ve approved—he did have to admit it made him look better. He was heading to the bedroom when a knock sounded at the apartment door.
Eyeing the buzzer on the kitchen wall, he quickly went through a list of people already in the building who would want to pay him a visit. He wasn’t pals with any of the tenants, but on occasion he would get asked to watch the game or go out drinking with Craig from the gym. As he walked to the door, towel around his waist, chest still bare, he marveled at the fact that he couldn’t even recall Craig’s last name.
Which was fine, since it was Kelli waiting at the door for him.
“Oh,” he said, opening the door wide from its original cracked position.
“Oh,” she repeated. Her eyes darted up and down his body. He pictured the pair of shorts and shirt on his bed that he probably should have put on before answering the door. “Sorry. Is this a bad time?” she asked, recovering. A slow pink had risen in her cheeks.
“No. I just got out of the shower.” He motioned to the towel that hung low on his hips, just in case the droplets of water across his bare skin and his wet hair weren’t enough proof to make his claim believable.
“Right. Um, could I maybe talk to you for a minute? I promise it won’t take long.”
Mark stepped back and waved her inside, cautious of how loose the towel felt as he moved. After everything they’d been through, he didn’t think flashing Kelli Crane was the best way to start a conversation.
“Make yourself comfortable. Let me go get dressed.”
Kelli nodded and took a seat on the couch, but only on the edge of it. She was uncomfortable, but why? Mark dressed in record time and sat in a chair across from the intriguing young woman, ready to find out.
“Sorry if coming by was too intrusive,” she started. “I may have Googled your number the other night, trying to find your address.” The blush from earlier came back, but not as strong. “I was in the neighborhood, meeting my realtor for some papers, when I realized how close your apartment is. So I decided dropping by might be better than leaving another voice mail.” She gave a little laugh. “Now I see that maybe it was just creepier.”
Mark still wasn’t sure he could sum up how he felt at seeing Kelli again—especially in his apartment, wearing a pair of tight jeans and a form-fitting blouse—but he didn’t feel creeped out in the least. He hadn’t even thought to ask her yet how she’d gotten into the building.
“It’s not creepy,” he admitted. “But I am curious how you got in without buzzing up.”
“A man asked me who I was here to see and waved me in.” Her smile was small. “Said he was worried you hadn’t shown up for the gym that morning.”
He laughed. He really needed to learn Craig’s last name.
“So what’s up?” Mark asked when it was clear she needed a bit of prodding. “Did they catch the mugger?”
Kelli shook her head. “They told me they’d call if they did, but so far, no call. That’s partly why I wanted to talk.” She readjusted in her seat and seemed to take a breath before looking him in the eye. “I wanted to sincerely apologize for everything.