Relinquish

Chapter Thirteen

Cade

She pulls her hair into a lopsided bun, grabs a ponytail holder from the table by the door, and quickly twists it in place. How in the hell did I find the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and she’s interested in me? A man who’d practically grown up on the streets, lost both his parents before his voice changed, and ended up living in a foster home until entering the military.

Of course, she doesn’t know those things, but for some reason, I don’t think she’ll care. I shove my hands into my pockets. Stella will love her.

Ding. Dong.“I’m coming. Stop the doorbell already.” She swings the door open.

“About time you open the damned door up. Why have you not been answering your phone?” The man grinds out between clenched teeth. He’s a large, hulking figure that blocks the view of the sunlight coming into the room.

For several seconds, I study him. Then the realization hits. Same dark hair. Striking blue eyes. High cheekbones. Shit. It’s one of her brothers. I yank my hands out of my pockets and widen my stance. One of her FBI brothers. Which one is this?

She smirks and lets him encircle her into his arms. “What took you so long? With all the FBI resources at your fingertips, I didn’t think it would take you this long to get to Kansas City.”

“Humph.” He steps back and lets her go while shutting the door forcefully behind him. “Funny. I knew where you were the day after you left, but I couldn’t get away until my investigation was complete. You know Dad is worried sick about you.”

“I’m sure he is. He thinks I’ve lost my mind.” She turns and mouths, ‘I’m sorry.’

Her brother turns his attention to me. Not that he hadn’t registered my presence the second he’d walked through the door, but he’s just now acknowledging I exist in his space. He stares without moving a muscle.

Dude, I’m not that easy. I’ve spent years defending myself from punks that considered me easy prey–they were wrong. Eventually, I’d spent years serving my country as a Navy SEAL. Overprotective brothers don’t scare me, even if they are FBI agents.

I swallow. However, his arrival is a blessing in disguise. What I feel for Lola is dangerous. She makes me want to throw all my chips onto the table and go all in. But I can’t. I don’t have anything to give her and losing her would destroy me.

And I would lose her. I have no blood relatives. No money, at least money like she has. No concept of how to have a family. I’m the last person she needs to be with.

“Eddie, this is Cade.” She motions to me and continues, “Cade, this is my older brother, Eddie.”

Eddie steps to Lola and places an arm around her shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you.”

That’s a big fuck you. There’s no way Eddie thinks it’s nice to meet me. “Nice to meet you, as well. I’d better be going. I don’t want to intrude on family time.” I glance at Lola. “I’d better get to work. Do you want me to tell Truman you won’t be in today?”

Her hurt expression almost has me dropping to my knees and begging her to let me stay, but I’m not a fool or a dreamer. I’m a realist and thankful for the interruption before we ended up doing something that she’d regret.

“I guess it’s late enough that there isn’t much point in going in today. Let Mr. Truman know I’ll be in tomorrow.”

I nod and open the door for a speedy exit. “I will. Have a good chat.”

Shit.My stomach clenches. The only reason she’s going to come into the office is to clean her desk and leave. Even though it feels like a punch in the balls, it’s better if she leaves now. There’ll be no awkward break-up when she finds out I’m not what she’s looking for in a long-term relationship.

***

Lola

My heart stings as I wait for Cade to shut the door. It isn’t the first time a potential suitor has seen one of my brothers and sprinted for the exit. Unfortunately, I was foolish enough to think he’d be one who stood his ground and supported me instead of running for the exit.

Damn it, I was wrong. It’s better to find out now he’s no better than the rest before I fall head over heels in love with anything more than his dimples. And his hair. And his lips. Stop.

“Who was that man, and what was he doing here in the middle of the day?”

“Eddie, cut out the dramatics. Would you prefer he was here in the middle of the night?” I sigh. Damn it. I still want him, and it doesn’t matter what time of day it is.

“No,” he sputters and falls onto the sofa. The cushions whoosh under his weight. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“He’s one of my co-workers. My car is broken down, and he took me to a pet shelter and brought me home so I could change.” I walk into the kitchen. I need something to drink.

For the first time, I wish I had something stronger than tea. I grab a glass, fill it with ice, and pour the golden liquid into the glass. Maybe I should do the dishes. Yeah, I’m avoiding my brother. Sue me.

When I glance into the mirror, I cringe. Lipstick is smeared at the corner of my lips, and my shirt is half untucked. I grab a napkin and wipe the smudge off, and shove my shirt into the waistband of my skirt. No wonder Eddie is putting on one of his classic displays of barbaric, macho, he-man routines. It’s a small miracle he didn’t beat his fists on his chest or challenge Cade to a duel.

“Do you want anything to drink?” I speak loud enough for my voice to carry into the adjoining room.

“Sure. What’s up with the shelter?” Some of the anger has dissipated, so I contemplate giving him a little more time to cool off. I could go for a jog or get a facial. Nah, just get it over with. It’s not like he’s going to toss you over his shoulder and drag you home. It’s illegal, and he works for the FBI. He’s not going to risk his job to do something stupid.

I pour his drink and return to the living room. “I found a dog.”

“Now, why doesn’t that surprise me.” He grabs the glass from my outstretched hand. “I don’t suppose it is a cute, tiny little thing.”

I elevate the drink to my lips. “Nope.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not even going there.” Seconds later, he tilts his head and frowns. “Just a second. What’s wrong with your car? Did you wreck the Jag? You didn’t wreck it, did you?” He shakes his head. “You drive like shit.”

I frown and sit across from him. “Thank you for the vote of confidence. No, I didn’t wreck anything, and I didn’t take the Jag. I bought a used car from a car lot here in town, and the alternator went out of it.” His fingers dig into the glass, and I’m slightly afraid he’s going to bust the glass and cut his hand. “Eddie, calm down.”

“Why didn’t you take your vehicle?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

I study my oldest brother. Will he understand? “Did you know Dad wanted me to marry Trenton?”

He shakes his head. “No, I mean, I saw the tabloids, but I thought they were full of shit.”

I chuckle as the images of my brother and Cade reading the tabloids gives me a momentary reprieve from feeling sorry for myself. “You, too?”

“What?”

“You read the tabloids.”

“I don’t read the articles. I look at the covers when I’m standing in line at the store. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head. I’m learning all kinds of things about big macho men today.

“Isn’t he in love with Lacey?”

“Yes, he’s still in love with her. Although he denies it and thinks he hates her because she took his father’s money and left, but that’s not relevant. We’re not in love, and I’m not going to marry for less than that.”

Eddie crosses his right leg to rest his ankle on his left knee. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to marry someone you aren’t in love with.” He sighs and sinks into the cushions. “It couldn’t have been easy growing up in a house full of overprotective men, but if you come home now, I’m sure I can convince Dad to give you some space.”

Who is this person sitting on my sofa, and what did they do with my brother? While we weren’t particularly close while growing up, we also never fought–which was more likely due to the gap in our ages rather than a reflection of how wonderful of kids we were. Have I misjudged him, or is this an FBI interrogation ploy?

I press my lips together and tip out my chin. “What’s in it for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you get if I go home?”

“Nothing.”

I shrug. “Fine. You win. I’ll go home.”

“Great.” He places both feet on the ground and leans forward.

“But I’m not staying.” Here’s to hoping Mr. Truman doesn’t get mad that I’m making plans to go home for the gala. It’ll be the perfect opportunity to investigate the burglary ring.

He falls back onto the sofa. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll go home for mom’s charity event, but I plan to stay here in Kansas City. I enjoy what I’m doing.”

His gaze sweeps over the living room. “You enjoy living like this? You weren’t raised in the projects. You didn’t go to college to work as a clerical. And you weren’t raised to make out with some man that looks like he grew up on the streets.”

Much better. Aliens haven’t taken over my brother’s body. I smile. With all the resources he has at his disposal, I’m still able to outsmart him. It hasn’t crossed his mind I’m doing anything but secretarial work.

My smile fades. Don’t break your arm, patting yourself on the back. He had no problem figuring out you were making out with Cade.

Not that it matters. It is not going to happen again. “Mind your own business, big brother. I plan on keeping my job. I enjoy working as an assistant, and while Cade might appear to be dangerous, he’s a respectable man. But don’t worry your pretty little head, we aren’t in a relationship and won’t be developing one.”

“Good.” He glares. “Don’t be screwing him either.” He stands up and wipes at the creases of his dark dress slacks. “Can I tell Dad you’re coming home?”

I join him, stand on my tiptoes, and kiss his cheek. “Sure. You can tell him to expect me there for the event. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” A wave of pleasant feelings passes through my mind. A part of me appreciates he cares enough to travel halfway across the country to make sure I’m okay. The other part wishes he’d mind his own business. “I love you, and thank you for stopping by.”

“I love you, too. Be good.” He walks to the door and twists the knob. “Don’t forget to lock the door after I leave.”

“Hey, before you go. How well do you know Randall Maitland?”

He frowns as the cool afternoon breeze sweeps into the room. I shiver at the rapid temperature change. This latest cool front likely signals the end of the summer. “Why do you ask?”

I run my hand over my hair, re-tucking some strands that have decided to revolt from their confines. “Trenton said something about him dating Patricia Young. You remember her, don’t you? Her parents were killed earlier this year.”

“Yes. I remember her. She would be better off if she steered clear of him. I’ve heard he has a different woman on his arm every week. I can’t imagine he’s serious about her.” He shrugs. “He’s into investments, but I haven’t heard many specifics. I’ve been too busy to pay any attention to the society scene lately.” Eddie’s words confirm the FBI isn’t investigating him. If they were, he’d have warned me to stay away–another dead-end.