Chapter 3
THREE
A grunt escaped Cormac’s lips as the couch he carried slipped in his grasp. Halfway up the stairs in Leo and Amelia’s new home, he called out for Marlon to stop.
“I think we need to rotate it to get it over the corner of the banister,” Marlon said when they’d set the sofa down and surveyed their progress. He glanced down at Cormac, who was wiping sweat from his temple. “You good?”
“Yeah.” Cormac fixed his grip on the corner of the couch and hefted it up, and the two men made it to the upper-story living area without any further issues.
Amelia appeared in the bedroom doorway, a wide smile on her face. “Thank you! This is going to look so good!”
The whole gang had been enlisted to help Amelia and Leo move into their new home. It was Saturday, one week after the wedding. Marlon would be leaving for his honeymoon on Monday, and the past week had been a scramble to get organized for his absence. Cormac had wanted to spend today at the office finishing up a detailed plan for the next three weeks, but he’d been coerced into unpaid grunt work for one of his closest friends. At least Leo had promised pizza and beer at the end of it.
Leo and his wife Amelia had been living in Amelia’s apartment for a couple of years, and they had finally closed on their forever home. Cormac didn’t voice his opinions on the concept of “forever homes” out loud, but in the private space between his ears, he rolled his metaphorical eyes.
There was nothing magical about moving into a new place. Even looking around at the upstairs area, he could see half a dozen security risks. For example, the neighbor’s fence gave access to the upstairs balcony, which had a laughably bad lock. It was worse than his mother’s house, and his mother’s house had been a nightmare to secure.
“There’s a bit more room in this place than your old apartment, isn’t there?” Marlon glanced around the second living room. He didn’t seem worried about security risks. Cormac followed his friend’s gaze to a small balcony overlooking their yard. Marlon grinned at Amelia. “Good place to let kids run around.”
Cormac suppressed a shudder. Who was this man, and what had they done with Marlon? Apparently, falling in love and getting married melted a man’s brain.
“We’ll see,” Amelia replied with a wry smile. “We’re in no hurry. We have to renovate this place before any of that.”
Setting aside the fact that it was a security nightmare, Leo and Amelia’s new place was a beautiful home on the outskirts of Stirling, a two-story, four-bedroom house that had started as a two-bed bungalow from the 1950s and eventually had a second story and an addition cobbled onto it. It was a strange layout, but Amelia insisted that with a few simple tweaks, it would be a highly efficient floorplan. She had diagrams and budgets already detailed in an appropriately labeled folder on her laptop.
“The apartment served us well, but I’m happy to be out of there,” Amelia continued with a smile. “After what happened with my neighbor, it never felt the same.”
Her neighbor, Mrs. Gordon, whose real name was Ethel Brown, hadn’t been the sweet old lady she’d pretended to be. She and her sister Meredith had been part of a complex thievery operation that had gone undetected for decades. Even after Meredith had been arrested, a young man had tried to steal a precious cake topper from one of Elite Security’s clients. Marlon had caught him, but the whole thing had been a cluster.
No one had ever found Ethel. Cormac hoped she’d taken her loot and run far away. They had enough crap to deal with in Stirling without geriatric larceny.
It was simply more evidence that you couldn’t trust anyone, as far as Cormac was concerned. The best thing to do was have a strong security system and a healthy dose of caution where other people were involved.
“Here’s good?” Marlon asked, nodding to the location where they’d dropped the couch.
“Can you move it to face this way?” Amelia gestured for them to rotate the couch 180 degrees.
They got it done, and Amelia beamed at them before turning toward the steps. “What do you think, ladies?”
Cormac followed her gaze to the four women trundling up the steps. Scarlett, Lucy, Camilla, and Amelia’s sister Maggie all carried various boxes and bags as they made their way into the space.
“Your wedding photos would look amazing as a gallery wall behind the couch,” Camilla said, wrapping an arm around Amelia’s shoulders, beaming.
Behind her, Lucy climbed the last step while clutching a big plastic container of what looked like winter clothing. Her foot caught on the lip of the last step and she tipped forward, and Cormac was there in an instant. With one hand on her lower back and the other steadying the container, he frowned at the slight, dark-haired woman. “You okay?”
“Yes.” Her cheeks flushed a soft shade of red. “Thank you.” She turned to face Amelia. “Where do you want this?”
“In the closet is good!”
The house smelled musty, but Lucy had some sort of sweet, floral perfume on. When she disappeared into the bedroom, her scent lingered for a second or two. Cormac inhaled, a knot loosening in his gut. Then he huffed and headed back downstairs to keep unpacking the moving truck Amelia and Leo had rented.
Cormac noticed the number of times he passed Lucy on his way back and forth between the truck and the house. It was more than anyone else, which meant she was hauling boxes like a machine. He saw her scrubbing and sweeping, sweat dripping down the side of her face as the girls worked on getting the kitchen spruced up. He noticed her attention to detail as she took down the extractor fan in the range hood and cleaned the filter. She seemed like the type of person who wasn’t afraid of hard work, and he’d seen the resolve in her gaze when she’d been sitting across from him in the conference room. She was determined and industrious, just like Cormac was when he set his mind to something.
He respected that about her. He was glad he’d be able to provide her some backup at the Expo. She was the type of client he enjoyed helping.
A few hours later, with all the boxes inside and the truck returned to the rental company, Cormac and the rest of the crew gathered around Leo’s dining room table and shared a few pizzas to celebrate the end of the move.
“How are you handling all the changes in your life, Leo?” Camilla asked as she took a piece of pizza from a box on the table. “Big year, between the job and the move.”
Leo had taken a new position at his company, which required way less travel. He now organized local events for Goodhew, the luxury event planning company where he worked. No more jet-setting around the world, but Leo didn’t seem to mind.
“I love it,” Leo said, one hand resting on Amelia’s thigh beside him. “Today, I just confirmed the final details for a company retreat for a greeting card company. There’s a lot going on in Stirling.”
Beside Cormac, Lucy straightened. “What company is that?”
When everyone turned to look at her, she shrank slightly. Cormac frowned.
“Juniper and Sage. They’re pretty big, apparently.”
Judging by Lucy’s intake of breath, there was no “apparently” about it.
“Pass the vegetarian pizza over here,” Camilla called out from the other side of the table, and the conversation moved on. Lucy didn’t say anything else, and Cormac wondered why she’d been so impressed by the greeting card company name.
“Are you not hungry?” Cormac asked when Lucy nibbled on the single piece of pizza she’d grabbed. The rest of the group conversed around them, cheerful and loud. Something about Lucy’s calm, her quietness, called to Cormac. He liked that she was happy to observe; that’s how he felt in group gatherings too.
She blinked at him owlishly. “What?”
“You’re not eating.” He nodded to the half-finished slice.
“Oh,” she said, looking down at her plate. She huffed and picked up the piece of pizza, shaking her head. “I started thinking about the Wedding Expo,” she admitted, then took a bite. His gaze slid to her nearly full glass of water. She needed to hydrate too. She hadn’t stopped working all day.
“The Expo will be fine,” he told her. “I promise.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. He didn’t want to promise anything, because she was a client like any other. He didn’t make promises; he executed the tasks laid out in his contracts. That was the deal. That was how things worked in his life, how he liked them to remain.
But Lucy sat beside him quietly, worried, amidst the laughter and conversation of their friends, and Cormac found that he did want to promise her she’d be safe. He wanted her to believe him. He wanted to see that resolve filling her eyes again, wanted her shoulders to straighten and her chin to lift.
Which was…odd. Why should he care?
She swallowed her bite and smiled gratefully. “Thank you. I appreciate it. It’s just a big deal, you know? And I get nervous about that kind of thing. Crowds and networking and sales.” She picked a piece of pepperoni off her slice and popped it in her mouth before continuing. “It’s silly, really. I’ve already printed most of the samples I’ll bring, looked up the other vendors, and practiced my pitch a million times. I’m ready to go with a week left before the event. So I know, logically, that everything will be fine.” She met Cormac’s gaze, her lips curling slightly. “And it’ll help to have Sam and Luke there to back me up. They were really nice when you introduced me on Monday, and they seem competent. You’re right; everything will be okay.”
“It’ll be me,” Cormac blurted before he realized what he was saying. But then it was out there and he couldn’t take it back. Worse, he didn’t want to take it back. So he cleared his throat and said, “Me and Sam.”
“Oh. Was there a problem with Luke?”
“Scheduling conflict,” he lied, reaching for another piece of pizza. “I’ll be filling in.”
The words landed between them, and Cormac nodded. This was correct. This was how things should go. Yes. He would do the Expo. Lucy wouldn’t have to worry about everything, because he’d make sure she was okay. A knot unraveled in Cormac’s chest. She was a client, but she was also a friend of his friends’ wives. She was important. It was only right that he make sure the event went off without a hitch.
Feeling someone’s gaze on his back, he turned to see Marlon watching him with an arched brow. He glanced back at Lucy and said, “Drink some water. It was warm today and you did a lot of work.” Then he stood up and headed in his business partner’s direction.
When he stood next to Marlon, the other man arched a brow. “You taking over the Wedding Expo job?” Marlon asked quietly.
Cormac grunted. “She’s important to Camilla, which means she’s important to you. Since you’ll be away on your honeymoon, it should be me working the job. I’ll shuffle things around.”
Marlon’s hand landed on Cormac’s shoulder, and he squeezed. “Camilla will be happy to hear it. She’s worried about the event. Apparently this Phillips guy has been threatening Lucy for years.”
Cormac’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“She’s had packages stolen out of her car and spam reviews on her business page. A couple of years ago, someone let the air out of her tires when she was meant to deliver invitations to a local client for a rush order. Slowed down some after the Winter Festival, but Phillips hasn’t gone away.”
Glancing at Lucy, who had moved to talk to Scarlett in the corner of the room, Cormac let one of his hands curl into a fist. “She didn’t tell me that.”
“I wouldn’t have known either, except Camilla told me. Something smells off about this, Cormac. This can’t just be about wedding invitations.”
“I’ll find out,” Cormac vowed, tearing his gaze away from Lucy to meet his business partner’s gaze. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to her.”
Monday was spent reshuffling the schedule so Cormac could attend the Expo and completing the myriad of tasks needed to prepare for Marlon’s three-week absence. Marlon and Camilla were going to eat their way through Italy and France for their honeymoon. The last thing Cormac wanted was to bother his friend when he was taking some well-deserved time off.
When Cormac finally got home in the evening, he punched the code in to disarm his alarm, locked the door behind himself, and pressed the button that opened the shutters on his penthouse apartment windows. Calling it a penthouse was generous, since Stirling didn’t exactly have skyscrapers, but his residence did occupy the top level of one of the taller buildings in town—all of twelve stories. He’d customized the apartment over the years, turning it into a veritable fortress. It was an instinct he couldn’t resist, something written in his DNA in his childhood. Security was paramount, always.
As his home came to life around him, wrapping itself around him with all its safety precautions and fail-safes, Cormac found himself thinking about Lucy. Again. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of her since Saturday.
He thought of the delicate floral scent that lifted from her hair whenever he got close enough to get a hint of it, and the way she smiled at him. He thought of her laugh, and the cute little snort she made when Scarlett had said something he didn’t catch the day of the move. She was pretty when she laughed. She was also pretty when she didn’t laugh, and when she frowned, and when she set her jaw, and when she scrubbed extractor fans…
He thought of all that beauty and light being snuffed out by a worm of a man like Aaron Phillips, and he gritted his teeth.
Placing his shoes in the precise location where they belonged in the foyer closet, Cormac padded on sock-clad feet down the hardwood floors and turned into the kitchen. The shutters on his windows whirred as they lifted, finally rattling to a stop once they reached the top.
Lucy didn’t have this kind of protection in her life. She didn’t have theft-proof shutters on an apartment on the twelfth floor of a building. She probably didn’t even have an alarm system on her home.
That…bothered him.
A meow tore his thoughts away from Lucy to another woman who now demanded his attention, the black cat complaining by her empty food bowl. She batted at the metal container, making it bang like a gong against the floor.
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled affectionately, leaning down to scratch her ears. “I know. I’m ten minutes late. You’ll die of starvation.”
The cat meowed in agreement and batted at her bowl again. He filled it, gave her a can of wet food to appease her, and left the cat to eat, then turned to the refrigerator in search of his own sustenance. A pre-portioned meal he’d prepped earlier in the week waited for him in one of the many containers stacked in the fridge. He put it in the microwave to warm up, drumming his fingers on the counter.
Lucy was worried, but she was determined. That was admirable. She was soft and sweet and delicate, but she was strong.
She was a client. The contract had very defined limits that only included the day of the Wedding Expo.
So why did he keep wondering what kind of security precautions she’d taken on her own home? Why did he have the ridiculous urge to make sure she was safe?
Marlon would want him to look out for her. And Marlon was a good friend.
The microwave beeped. He ate, put the container in the dishwasher, and then turned in a circle in his home, feeling itchy and uncomfortable. His cat glanced at him haughtily, still miffed that he’d missed her usual feeding time by less than a quarter of an hour. The wet food hadn’t appeased her at all. She slunk away and curled up under his couch, snubbing him.
All the women in his life were nothing but trouble, a fact which was punctuated by an alert on his phone. Sighing, he called his mother.
“Mom,” he said when she answered. “You have to re-arm the alarm when you come home.”
“Oh, relax, honey. You installed this complicated system that I didn’t need and don’t want; can you blame me for not using it?”
Cormac pinched the bridge of his nose. They’d had this conversation a million times. Did she really want a repeat of what had happened all those years ago? “Please, Mom?”
“You worry too much,” she said with love in her tone. He heard the faint beeps of her alarm panel, and his phone buzzed with another notification. She’d armed the alarm and set it to instant mode, which would trip if any of the doors or windows opened.
Cormac let out a breath. “Thank you. Next time, arm it as soon as you get home.”
“But if I did that, you’d have no excuse to call me,” his mother teased.
Huffing a laugh, Cormac dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling. “No guilt trips today, please. I’m begging you.”
“I love you, honey,” she replied fondly. “Are you coming to dinner next Saturday?”
He grimaced. Saturday was the day of the Wedding Expo. “I have to work, but I’ll stop by if I have time.”
“All right. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
He slipped his phone into his pocket and watched his cat stretch on the rug. She glanced at him over her shoulder, apparently still angry, and pranced away to jump on the cat tree in the corner.
“You’ve made your point,” he groused. The cat ignored him.
He still had that gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, so he pulled out his phone and did the one thing he thought would make him feel better. He called his company’s tech wizard. “Elton,” he said when the other man answered. “What have we got on Aaron Phillips?”
“The paper guy?”
“Yeah.”
“Not much. I’ve been working on the Hampstead contract.”
The Hampstead contract was a gigantic, expensive job including the installation and commissioning of hundreds of top-of-the-line security cameras and assorted systems for all business and personal premises for the very large and very wealthy Hampstead family, who were upgrading every building their family name had ever touched. It made sense to prioritize that contract, because it was one of the biggest that Elite Security had ever won.
But the protective instinct squeezing his guts in its icy fist wouldn’t be eased by completing the Hampstead job on time. Cormac clenched his jaw. “Drop it. I want a full background check on Phillips in my inbox by tomorrow morning. I want to know everything there is to know about this guy, including why he’s so obsessed with Lucy Barlow. Something weird’s going on.”
“Okay, boss,” Elton replied. He slurped something, and Cormac could practically picture the pink mug with the glittery cat on its side. When he spoke again, his voice was angelic. “Is there a specific reason you’d like me to prioritize this particular job? Perhaps it has to do with a dark-haired lady with big doe eyes? Someone who might be special?”
The case on his phone creaked as he clenched it a little bit tighter. “Just do it, all right?”
A snigger sounded through the phone. “You got it.”
When they hung up, Cormac felt slightly better, which was ridiculous. Scowling at himself, he grabbed a towel and stalked to the fourth bedroom of his penthouse, which he’d converted into a home gym. A workout would help him get rid of this weird, unsettled feeling.
Except it didn’t.
Grimacing at himself in the bathroom mirror after he’d showered, Cormac knew that itchy feeling wouldn’t go away until he finished one last task, something that had been on his mind for ten days, since the day of Marlon’s wedding, and had only gotten worse since they’d helped Leo and Amelia move.
He dressed, grabbed his keys, and headed out into the night.