Chapter 7
Maren stared into Arthur’s eyes as the reality of the situation sank in. “She’s really home.”
“Shit.” He jumped out of bed so quickly he tripped over the tangled bedspread and fell to the floor.
She covered her mouth to stifle the fit of laughter that erupted from her lips.
“Not funny,” he mumbled as he hiked up his pants and looked around the room. “Where’s my shirt?”
“You took it off me downstairs, remember?”
“Right.”
“Just get down there before my mother gets to the porch. I’ll be down shortly.”
“What do I say about where you are?” He glanced between her and the window, his eyes wide with a confused glow.
“That I’m changing out of my dirty clothes.”
“That works.” He turned, heading for the door, but paused. “I’m sorry that ended as abruptly as it did. I’m usually the kind of guy who enjoys a good cuddle afterward. Maybe next time.”
She swallowed as he disappeared, the sound of his feet hitting the floorboards beat with her pounding heart.
What the hell had she just let happen?
One minute she’s arguing with a control freak, the next she’s got her mouth where it doesn’t belong.
Her ex had been a power-driven prick in business, and he turned out to be that way in their relationship, though she rarely put up with it. She’d been a free spirit most of her life, doing what she wanted, when she wanted, and not worrying too much about what others thought. That strong personality was what helped her get the hell out of this sleepy little seaside town.
But that drive and determination that went with it facilitated the demise of a career she ended up resenting and a boyfriend she didn’t like, bringing her back home and into the arms of a stranger who gave her the most incredible burning desire to take a chance on him.
And her hometown.
No!
The idea that Arthur thought there could be a next time sent a heat wave across her skin.
This had to go down as the dumbest, most reckless thing she’d ever done next to the day she and a few friends climbed onto one of the customers’ million-dollar yachts and partied like rock stars her senior year of high school.
That didn’t end well, and she suspected whatever this thing with Arthur was wouldn’t end well either.
Besides, he was still pining after a dead girl.
Hearing the front door slam shut, she slinked out of bed. Her thigh and foot throbbed, while her body, drenched in the aftereffects of sex, tingled with unadulterated passion.
“Maren, honey?” her mother’s voice bellowed up the stairs.
“I’m coming.” Maren sucked in a deep breath as she ran her fingers through her hair, making sure it was smooth and didn’t look like she’d just gotten out of bed. She took tentative steps, telling herself it was because her wounds hurt, but the reality was she didn’t want to face the man downstairs.
Her mother greeted her at the bottom of the steps with open arms. “Come here, little one.”
Maren rolled her eyes. God, sometimes she hated when her mother called her that, and the last thing she needed was her mother hugging her so tight it took her breath away. As she eased into her mother’s arms, she stole a glance at Arthur, who leaned against the kitchen counter next to an older gentleman whom she recognized as Jefferson.
Arthur’s lips were drawn into a tight, tense line until he caught her gaze, then he cracked a slight smile.
She couldn’t help it, she smiled back.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her mother cupped her face, staring deep into her eyes.
“I’m fine. Really.”
“Thank God Arthur and his friends were still here.”
She nodded as her mother took her by the hand and led her through the open family room into the kitchen. “We owe him a world of gratitude again.”
“We sure do,” her mother said. “You remember Jefferson, don’t you, dear?”
Jefferson had aged a little with a few extra pounds around the middle and salt-and-pepper hair, but he was still a handsome man.
“Good to see you again, though I’m sorry about the circumstances.” Jefferson extended his hand.
“It’s been a crazy few days,” she admitted, taking a seat on the bar stool next to Arthur, trying not to make it obvious that her knee was touching his thigh.
“I don’t like the idea of you two girls here alone,” Jefferson said, scratching the back of his head. “But my mother is eighty-nine, and I can’t leave her alone too long.”
“They won’t be alone.” Arthur rested his arm on the counter behind her back and while he didn’t touch her, her skin bristled with the heat he generated. “I will be staying here.” His voice had that same commanding tone he’d had on the docks earlier.
On the one hand, she couldn’t stand it. She knew he came from a place of caring, but it didn’t change the fact she didn’t respond well to it.
“That won’t be necessary.” She jerked her knee away and that didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“I think it’s a good idea. It would make me feel better,” Jefferson said.
“I hate to put you out like that, Arthur,” her mother said.
“It’s not a problem. Even when I’m at the station, one of my team members can be here.” Arthur slid his hand across the countertop, his thumb gently touching her back.
She shifted.
“I’m going to call that friend about fixing and updating the security system,” Jefferson said, pulling out a stool for her mother. “Do the police have any leads? Any theories?”
Creating better security around the marina certainly was something Maren could get on board with, but having a personal bodyguard wasn’t part of that package.
“Probably just some stupid kids drinking too much and doing something on a dare,” Maren said, ignoring Arthur’s scowl.
“That would be one hell of a dangerous dare,” Jefferson said.
“And not what happened.” Arthur rested his forearms on the kitchen counter. “I have a buddy looking into a possible connection?—”
She kicked his shin.
His body jerked as he reached down, rubbing his leg. “Jesus, Maren, that was uncalled for.”
“I would say so,” her mother said with a stern voice. “I apologize for my daughter’s behavior.”
“I’m not a small child, so don’t go saying sorry for me.” Maren poked Arthur in the biceps. “And there is no need for you to go spewing your theories, making my mother worry even more.” She arched a brow.
“Ignorance is not bliss in this case, and it certainly won’t keep either of you safe.” He jabbed her shoulder with his index finger.
“Are you two done acting like adolescents? Because I really want to hear what Arthur has to say about the events of this evening,” Jefferson said with an exasperated sigh.
“As I was saying.” Arthur glowered at her, almost daring her to try to shut him up again. “I’m concerned that Maren’s accident is related to tonight’s fire.”
Her mother gasped, covering her mouth. “Oh my God. Someone hit her car on purpose?”
Maren wanted to point out this was exactly why she didn’t want to tell her mother, but she bit her tongue.
“The police have some evidence that points them in that direction and earlier tonight, when Nally left, I thought I recognized his associate as a man who was involved in an arson case in another state.”
“What exactly are you saying, son?” Jefferson rested his hand on her mother’s shoulder.
“I believe the men who want to invest in this place would be using it to launder money as well as run drugs out of the marina.”
“Holy shit,” her mother whispered.
“It’s a theory.” Maren knew the facts, and they told her that Arthur could be right, but he made it sound like it was the only possibility and that just pissed her off.
A phone vibrating on the counter made everyone in the room jump.
“That’s me.” Arthur took the phone and held it up. “I’ve got a text from my buddy Darius… Shit.” He turned the phone so everyone could see. “Theory, huh?” His stare narrowed. “Nally’s associate, what was his name, Santoro? Is actually Richie Hernandez, a known criminal, working for the drug cartel run by a guy by the name of Ferro.” Arthur pointed to his phone. “That is fact. Not theory and you two ladies aren’t going anywhere alone until that asshole is behind bars.”
“Oh, God.” Her mother leaned into Jefferson. “Someone tried to kill my baby?”
Maren swallowed, staring at the images on Arthur’s phone. She couldn’t deny the reality staring her in the face.
“Why would he do that?” Jefferson asked, both hands on her mother’s shoulders, massaging gently.
“I suspect right now it’s a scare tactic, to push you to let them invest or sell to them outright, but I don’t put murder past these people.” Arthur turned, holding the phone to his ear.
“Who are you calling?” Maren resented the tremble vibrating in her throat and the shaking of her hands. She’d been afraid a time or two walking in New York City alone at night, but seeing those images and knowing… no, accepting that Arthur was right disturbed her to the core.
“Rusty, to give him all this information and then a few of my buddies so they can help with security. I’m not letting anything happen to you or your mom on my watch.”
“This is just horrible,” her mother said, moving to the stool next to Maren. “I’m sorry I ever gave those men the time of day.”
“It’s not your fault.” Maren pulled her mother in for a hug, holding her a little tighter, wondering if she hadn’t come back to town, how this all would have played out. She shivered.
“I’m sorry. I hate that I have to leave,” Jefferson said, standing behind her mother. “I’ll see what I can do about getting more help with my mom.”
“Thanks, Jefferson. I really appreciate it,” her mom said.
“I’ll call you in the morning.” Jefferson leaned over and kissed her mother’s temple. “Arthur, walk me to my car?”
“Sure thing. I’ve got to get my go bag anyway.”
Maren eyed Arthur as the front door clicked closed.
“Not to change the subject or anything,” her mother said, leaning forward, clutching Maren’s hands.
“Please, if it’s a more pleasant topic than money laundering and drug cartels, do tell.”
Her mother tilted her head. “Why is your bra on the floor? And why did Arthur just try to kick it under the chair?” She pointed toward the small wingback chair between the kitchen and great room.
Heat rose to her cheeks.
Her mother smiled. “I knew you two would like each other.”