Chapter Two
LILY
“Idon’t want grilled cheese again.”
“That's funny, when I asked a half an hour ago you said you had to have grilled cheese for lunch. Not peanut butter and jelly, not chicken noodle soup. Only grilled cheese.”
Adam's lower lip pooched out as he scowled down at the perfectly-toasted grilled cheese sandwich. “That was before I knew you were going to use the yellow cheese.”
I stifled a sigh of exasperation. Breathe, I told myself. He’s five. He’s not being a pain in the ass on purpose.
Except, he kind of was.
A five-year-old has three basic jobs: explore the world, give good snuggles, and drive his parents crazy. Adam was excelling at all three.
“Adam, I already told you, the grocery store was out of the white cheese. It’s yellow cheese or no cheese at all.”
My stomach growled as the scent of melting cheese and toasted bread drifted across the table. I’d made Adam lunch, but I hadn’t gotten to mine.
Slowly, I reached across the table saying lightly, “Well, if you don't want it, I might as well eat it for you. I haven't had lunch either and—”
“No!” Adam snatched up a triangle of sandwich and shoved half of it into his mouth, chewing furiously as he glared at me.
Bingo. The fake-out didn't always work. It was just as likely he would have crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to eat until I came up with whatever it was he wanted.
I gave an internal sigh as I watched him chomp through the sandwich. White bread and cheese toasted in butter would go straight to my rear end, but it smelled so good. I hadn't realized I’d wanted one until I'd reached across the table and my mouth had begun to water.
Pushing my chair back from the table, I set about making my own sandwich. I'd worry about the size of my rear end later.
I was spreading butter on a thick slice of bread when three heavy knocks sounded on the door. Thump, thump, thump. I jumped, muscles jerking tight, the knife clattering as it fell from my hand to hit the counter.
Adam's eyes shot up from his sandwich and fixed on me, narrowed with worry. “Mom?”
“Oops,” I said, picking up the knife, stalling Adam as my mind raced.
It's just someone at the door.
It's fine.
People knock on doors. It doesn't mean anything.
I was trying to forget the night before. Trying to forget the open door, the yawning dark of the woods beyond. The dragging sound and my frantic phone call.
In the light of day, it all seemed overblown and dramatic.
Maybe I hadn't shut the door properly.
Maybe I'd forgotten to set the alarm.
Maybe I was overreacting.
The logical part of me objected to this train of thought. I knew what I saw, and I knew I didn't forget to set the alarm.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Three more heavy knocks landed on the front door. I tried not to imagine the size of the fist that made the deep, full sounds echoing through the house.
“Aren't you going to answer it?” Adam asked around a mouthful of grilled cheese sandwich.
Straightening, I wiped my hands on a dishtowel and turned to smile at Adam. “Of course. It was just so quiet the knock startled me. Finish your lunch, and if you eat it all, you can have a cookie.”
“I'd rather have an apple,” Adam grumbled under his breath.
What kid didn't like cookies? My kid, that's who. It was the cookies, not the kid. I was hit or miss in the kitchen. My grilled cheese sandwiches? Divine. My cookies? Not so much.
Wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, I strode down the hall, stopping at the security panel to turn on the screen. The camera clicked on, showing a man at the door.
He was tall, the tips of his short-cropped dark hair cut off by the top of the screen. His shoulders were broad enough that only one was visible, and what I could see of his arms were corded with muscle. A black shirt with a familiar lion's head logo stretched across his chest.
It couldn't be. I'd only called the night before.
Unlocking the door, I swung it open and looked up. And up. I'm on the short side, slight except for my hips and butt. My visitor loomed over me, his face a wall, eyes flat.
My voice more hesitant than I'd like, I said, “Can I help you?”
“Knox Sinclair. Sinclair Security. You called, said you needed help.”
I cleared my throat. “That was fast. I only called a few hours ago.”
“Good timing. My schedule was free. So was the plane.”
“I thought you'd call. I—”
I'd made the phone call but hadn't expected someone to turn up this quickly. That was weird, right? Who flies most of the way up the east coast without calling first?
Trey had left me Sinclair Security's card. What if they were mixed up in whatever Trey had been into? What if Knox Sinclair was at my door only hours after I'd called because he was already in Maine? Because he'd been at my open door last night?
Knox's dark eyes leveled on mine. I couldn't get a read on him. I needed help. I needed someone to trust. That didn't mean Knox was my answer.
“Are you going to let me in?” he asked in a deep voice.
I stepped back and waved a hand, welcoming him into the house. Pacing past me, Knox's eyes swept the entry hall and what he could see of the living room, cataloging every detail, his expression unreadable. If he was annoyed at having his day interrupted by a flight to Maine, it didn't show.
“Would you, uh, like some coffee? Lunch? I don't know how we do this.” I spread my hands out in front of me palms up, at a loss.
“I'll take the coffee, no lunch. I ate on the plane. Is there somewhere we can sit down? I need to know what you're dealing with before I know how I can help you.”
“Oh, of course. Yes. I'll get you some coffee and we can sit in the living room. Just let me get my son settled first. I don't want him to—” I gestured towards the kitchen.
Knox seemed to understand. He nodded, then raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in question. I stared at him, taking in his thick, dark hair, eyes so deep a brown they were almost black, sharp cheekbones, straight nose, and a full lower lip that was a lush contrast in that strong face.
His voice rumbled, “Living room?”
I dropped my eyes, a flush heating my cheeks. One second I'm not sure I can trust the guy and the next I'm staring at his lips. I needed to get it together. “Yes, sorry, I'll show you.”
Knox followed as I led him deeper into the house, shutting and locking the door behind him. The living room opened in front of us and I gestured vaguely. “Anywhere you want to sit is fine. I'll be right back.”
Leaving Knox Sinclair to get himself settled, I found Adam finishing the last of his sandwich. He opened his mouth to speak. I stopped him with a raised palm. “Not with your mouth full.”
For a second, I was afraid he'd choke as he swallowed the giant bite of sandwich, washing it down with a generous swig of lemonade.
“Who was it?”
I busied myself making a fresh pot of coffee, thinking about what to say. I tried not to lie to Adam. He was only five, but kids have great bullshit detectors.
I wasn't going to tell him that I was afraid someone had tried to break into the house. No way. I settled for part of the truth.
“Now that it's only the two of us here, I feel like we need to upgrade the alarm system. I called the company who installed it, and they sent someone up. I need to sit down with him so he can help us figure out what we should do.”
“Upgrade the alarm? You mean like laser beams so no one can walk on the floor?” Adam's eyes lit with glee. My kid was watching too many cartoons.
I shook my head. “I'm pretty sure no laser beams. This isn't a museum, baby doll, it's just a house. Even if it does have the most precious thing in the world inside.”
He flashed his pure child's grin and my heart squeezed. He was the most precious thing in the house. In the world. I'd do anything to keep him safe.
“I have a feeling it's going to be a pretty boring grown-up meeting. How about you go into the family room and watch some cartoons?”
“TV? During the day?”
Adam didn't wait for me to say yes. He shoved back his chair and took off down the hall, not sparing Knox Sinclair a glance as he flew past the living room.
Unless Knox Sinclair had brought a lightsaber or a team of ninjas to defend the house, there was no way Adam would pry himself away from the television to investigate our grown-up meeting.
I arranged squares of freshly baked coffee cake on a plate and carried it in on a tray with two cups of coffee, a small pitcher of cream, and a bowl of sugar. Knox sat beside the coffee table, a few file folders spread before him.
He'd shifted the chair to give a view of the front door, the hallway, and the tall windows looking out over the lake. I wasn't the only one who was paranoid.
His dark eyes lifted from the paper in his hand. “These windows are a security nightmare.”
I set the tray down on the coffee table and sat on the couch beside Knox's armchair.
“Are they? I didn't know. I don't really know anything about security. Trey had the system put in when we built the house, but—”
“Trey was your husband?”
I took a sip of coffee, uneasy. I was always uneasy these days when Trey's name came up.
I shouldn't be uneasy.
I should be grief stricken. I should be mourning.
I wasn't.
I was uneasy, and I was scared.
I wasn't going to tell Knox Sinclair any of that. I settled for a nod.
“Yes, Trey was my husband. He designed the house and took care of the alarm. I know how to use it, mostly, but I don't know all the details.”
“I've got them right here,” Knox said, gesturing at a manila folder on the coffee table in front of him. “It looks like my father oversaw the installation personally. Shouldn't be hard to expand it if that's what we need.”
Knox helped himself to a cup of coffee, ignoring the cream and sugar. He took a sip and leveled his dark eyes on me. “You called last night in a panic. Mentioned break-ins. Did someone break in last night?”
“Yes.” The word was out of my mouth before I thought better of it.