Chapter 3
The click of the deadbolt sliding into place sounded so final in the quiet kitchen. Veronica pulled the curtain across the glass and retreated to the other side of the island, her hands trembling. Her heart hammered against her ribs, wild and frantic, a rhythm that echoed in her ears.
Lock the door behind me, Veronica. Do it now.
Brayden’s command had been absolute, delivered with a cold, sharp authority bearing little resemblance to the easygoing childhood friend she knew.
In that split second, the man who had gently cupped her cheek, sending her pulse into a tailspin, had vanished, replaced by a lethal stranger. An intense, focused protector.
Why didn’t that scare her?
Because in any form, Brayden was her friend. She’d seen him sharp and edgy, ready for competition. When she thought about it, his protector face wasn’t all that different. The stakes though? Those were way more significant than any sports title.
She stared at their unfinished meal and began to clean up.
Goose bumps rippled across her skin as she thought about the heat in his gaze and in his touch when he’d cradled her face.
Of course he was familiar with her. Over the years, he’d touched her frequently during workouts, while watching a game, or just hanging out.
But not like that.
That touch had been familiar, laced with something entirely new. Something her body recognized, despite her effort to tamp it down: desire.
The last time she’d allowed herself to feel anything other than friendship for Brayden had been early in their senior year of high school.
It had been weeks since they’d seen each other at a track and field training camp.
Somehow, he’d returned to school a few weeks later with more confidence and swagger she’d found magnetic.
During that brief window, she’d struggled to think of anything other than kissing him.
Her focus was trash, her workouts uneven.
It was crazy and consuming and nearly undermined the most stable friendship of her life.
Should she tell him? Why didn’t he notice?
Was it only because she felt left out of the teenage dating scene?
All those weeks, she’d yearned and waffled over what to do, how to say anything. Until she’d seen him kissing another girl. A girl he’d never mentioned to her.
That had been an effective cure for what she’d labeled as infatuation and tucked away as a silly phase. At the time she’d blamed it on Natalie rubbing off on her with her non-stop chatter about homecoming, teen romance movies, and first kisses.
She couldn’t blame her current daze on her little sister. Wishing Brayden had been her first kiss all those years ago was only making today worse. Why was part of her still longing to kiss him?
Well, some reasons were obvious. He was the sexiest man in her immediate circle.
Strong and fit with a hefty dose of bravery thrown in for good measure.
She adored the spark of humor in his dark eyes and though he kept his thick hair cut short, he’d let it grow out of military regulation into a more casual style.
She liked his hair both ways, but the longer version made him look younger, a bit more accessible. Which was not what she needed.
That quiet, intensely intimate moment had come and gone.
The near miss was probably for the best. Definitely.
She didn’t need or want another chance to let her lust off the leash.
Best to not fan the flames of all her pent-up longing.
Especially not while Brayden was out in the dark, chasing a potential threat.
Veronica forced herself to breathe, deep and slow.
She was a physical therapist and personal trainer.
She spent her days helping people find their balance, helping them heal, rebuild, or reshape their bodies.
She’d never been a damsel in distress. This foreign helplessness clawed at her insides, prodding her to do something.
The dishes were done, food stored, and she searched for another way to be proactive.
Taking her phone with her, she went to the suite. With the lights out, she stared out into the night, hoping for a glimpse of Brayden. The lights on the deck illuminated a thin, misty fog drifting near the edge of the trees, wrapping the live oaks in ghostly, shifting shrouds.
“Please be okay,” she murmured.
Yes, she wanted the Indigo Reef mess behind them, but not at the expense of Brayden. She’d felt similarly during his years with the military, though not as personally responsible.
Suddenly, a brilliant, staccato burst of light shattered the darkness in a blinding, rhythmic strobe that sliced through the mist like a blade. Brayden bellowed out a command to stop, aimed at someone she couldn’t see.
The flashlight went out and Veronica covered her mouth, smothering a gasp as she strained to hear more.
The silence grew heavy, the darkness pressing in on her. “Please, Brayden,” she whispered. “Be careful out there.”
She checked the time on her cell phone. The minutes stretched like salt-water taffy. Ten. Fifteen.
The wind was kicking up, typical in the summer season. Heat lightning streaked across the sky. Every creak of the house bracing against the gusts made her jump as she imagined someone sneaking around to the front door or testing the slider.
She forced down the rising panic. The security system was armed with updated codes for her and Brayden.
She wouldn’t be any help if she let fear paralyze her.
Indigo Reef wanted her scared and intimidated.
The best defense was to trust the team assigned to help.
The team led by Brayden. She trusted him always. With this. With everything.
She heard the alarm system buzz with an incorrect code. The app on her phone lit up with an alert as well, showing the attempt was made at the sliding door. Another incorrect attempt.
No one tested the handle and she let out the breath she was holding. The dull steady thud of footsteps on the deck outside the suite made her freeze.
Soft, rhythmic thudding on the deck right outside the manager’s suite made her freeze. Footsteps. A shadow blotted the light for a moment. Muscles locked, she had no idea what to do. Hide? Run? No. She’d hold her ground against whatever was coming.
It was dark in the suite and she wouldn’t be easily visible to whoever was outside.
She retreated to the kitchen, tucking her phone into her pocket.
Picking up a cast iron skillet, she gripped it with both hands and pressed her back to the wall, out of view from anyone who might come in through the suite.
Four distinct taps rattled the glass pane of the door. One-two. Three-four.
Brayden. It was the knock he’d always used, at her door, her car window, or to get her attention during a workout. On shaking legs, she dashed to the door and opened it for him.
Brayden stepped inside, locked the door again, and hit the lights.
“Are you okay?” She guided him toward the bathroom. His face was smudged and scratched, forearms too. He was breathing heavily, his broad chest rising and falling beneath his damp t-shirt and his cargo pants were damp and smeared with mud from the woods. “Tell me the other guy looks worse.”
“I wish. The jerk got away,” Brayden groused. “This is just from the chase.”
She set aside the heavy skillet and pulled a first aid kit from the cabinet under the sink. “Then you look amazing for a guy who’s been running through the trees in the dark.”
“It could’ve been worse,” he agreed, voice low and rough from the exertion. “Sorry about the wrong code. I was all thumbs in my rush. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He let out a long breath, his gaze softening as he watched her washing the scratches on his arms. “I can do this.”
“Of course you can.” She shook her head. “You can also let me.” He’d been out there to protect her, cleaning his wounds was the least she could do. “What happened out there?”
“Some light sabotage,” he said. “I didn’t get much for a description and he disappeared into the construction site.
I didn’t follow, in case he had support over there.
Not sure catching him would’ve changed much.
The important thing is this.” He shifted out of her reach and pulled his phone from one of the pockets on his thigh.
Swiping the screen, he turned it to show her a photo. “Caught red-handed.”
“What is that?”
“A water utility main valve shut-off key,” Brayden explained. “I wanted proof of where I found it and when, so I texted this incident to Jess.” He set the phone aside so Roni could continue. “The water main is out front. I figured he’d head for the street.”
“Uh-huh.” She reached up to wash the scratches on his face, then nudged him to sit down on the edge of the bathtub. Tilting up his jaw, she swallowed a sympathetic sound. The cut wasn’t too deep, but the bleeding hadn’t stopped yet. She moistened a cloth with wound cleaner. “Hold this here.”
“It stings.”
“It’s supposed to.” She moved as quickly as possible, applying ointment and covering the deeper wounds on his jaw and cheek with bandages. “Why shut off the water at the main?”
“More inconvenience. More reasons for guest complaints,” Brayden said, his eyes dark with cold anger. “The other option is uglier.”
She leaned back against the counter. “Meaning what?”
“He might’ve been trying to cause a break. Would’ve created a big mess as well as a big expense on your side of the line.”
She swore, he laughed, and she flicked his shoulder lightly. “Stop. I’m mad.”
“Me too.” He stood up. “I stopped the plan tonight, but it makes me wonder how low they’ll go to grab the Hideaway from your family.”
Veronica felt the room tilt. She reached out, her hand finding the edge of the counter to steady herself. The sheer, persistent malice of the plan was staggering. This wasn’t just neighborly friction or aggressive development; it was a targeted, corporate assassination of her family history.