Chapter Twelve
Charlie
Iwas distracted when I got home. I didn't like having a secret. It made me feel like I was lying to everyone I saw.
Evers could tell something was off, but he probably thought it had to do with the attack the night before and didn't push. He walked me through the security system, which seemed overly complicated. I was one woman, not Fort Knox.
If anything moved in my yard, lights would go on and the system would send an alert to my phone and Sinclair Security. If I hit the panic button, the police, the Sinclair team, and Lucas would know in an instant. And all the time, the cameras would be recording.
If anyone touched the windows or tried to break open the door, the wrath of hell would descend upon them in the form of a screeching alarm that rendered me temporarily deaf when Evers tested it.
I didn't like the idea that there were cameras inside my house, even though I trusted the team at Sinclair Security not to spy on me without reason. It just made me uneasy to know people could be watching anything I did.
After I'd convinced him I understood how to work the system, Evers left with a hug, a kiss on my cheek, and a warning to be careful.
He'd been relieved to find out that Aiden knew about the attack, but I was absolutely positive he'd be calling my brother anyway.
Oh well. I was used to it. Aiden had probably called one of them the second I left the house, demanding to know all about the security system.
And as soon as he pried Detective Brennan's name out of Evers, Brennan would get a call of his own.
I threw the clothes from the storage bin in the washing machine in the mudroom and tried to figure out what to do next. We'd finished with the mantle that morning, and I wasn't ready to tackle the paint on the rest of the trim until Lucas showed me the easier way to strip it.
I'd pulled all the rotten boards off the porch, and it was ready for the contractors to show up the next day to start putting it back together.
I was about to go upstairs to make notes for my meeting with the contractor in the morning when there was a knock on the kitchen door. I tried to ignore the giddy feeling in my chest at the thought of seeing Lucas.
It's just Lucas, I told myself. Nothing to get giddy over.
Ha.
If there were ever a man worth getting giddy over, Lucas Jackson was at the top of the list. But giddy was an emotion reserved for the heart. What we had going on was focused a little lower than that.
I unlocked the door and turned the handle before I remembered the alarm. Holding up one finger to tell him I'd be right back, I went to the keypad in the hallway off the kitchen and stared at it for a second before punching the buttons to disarm the system.
The screen flashed green, indicating the alarm was off. Sweet. I was sure I'd eventually manage to set the thing off by accident, but not yet. I went back and finished opening the door, letting Lucas into the kitchen.
"You remembered to turn on the alarm," he said with approval. "A lot of people only turn them on when they're out, but you need to use it all the time."
"I know, I know," I said, interrupting him. "Evers gave me the lecture. Seriously, I don't want anyone getting in here and coming after me. I won't forget to use the alarm."
"What about the work on the house?" Lucas asked. "You're exposed while workmen are going in and out. Even if we vet everyone, they're not going to set the alarm every time they open and close the door."
"Then I'm just going to have to take a risk," I said, "because I'm not stopping work on the house."
Lucas crossed his arms over his chest, preparing to argue, and I rushed on.
"Lucas, I can't. My contractor has me on his schedule.
If I pause the job, he'll move his crews on to his next client and who knows when I'll get them back.
I like this guy. He doesn't talk down to me and he does good work.
He shows up when he says he's going to show up, and so far, every project has been completed almost on time.
We don't even know that whoever came after me last night is going to come back. "
"Is there any point in arguing with you about this?" Lucas asked.
He uncrossed his arms, letting them fall to his sides, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his army green cargo pants. His T-shirt had been washed so many times it was a mottled gray, the fabric stretched tight over his biceps and across his chest.
Lucas was used to using his size to intimidate. I'll admit, with his eyes narrowed and all those muscles showing in stark relief, he was intimidating, even a little scary.
I wasn't afraid of Lucas. No, when he towered over me, looking pissed off and dangerous, all I wanted to do was touch him, to peel up that tight T-shirt and lick my way across the ridges of his abs. To unsnap his cargoes and shove them down over his lean hips and tight ass.
I shook my head, chasing off my lustful thoughts. It was the middle of the day, for God's sake.
What had we been talking about?
The side of Lucas's mouth quirked up in a half-smile and he said, "Are we going to fight or do you want me to fuck you?"
Well, if those were my only choices . . . no contest.
Lucas's smile grew into a full-blown grin. "I brought the equipment to start stripping the paint off that trim in the front hall, but if you'd rather fuck, we can do that instead."
I bit my lip in indecision. I really, really wanted to have sex with Lucas again. I couldn't imagine ever not wanting to have sex with Lucas.
I also wanted to get that paint off the trim, especially without using that smelly paint stripper. He laughed at the look on my face and said, "Or, we could work on the house for an hour, and then I'll fuck you."
He walked past me to the back door, pausing to drop a kiss on my lips before he disappeared onto the porch, reappearing a few seconds later with a cardboard box in his arms, a power cord spilling over the edge.
"Do you want to start in the front hall or the living room?"
I thought about it. It would be nice to have the front hall finished so when I walked in the door, I could see a clear sign of progress. On the other hand, we'd already started the mantle in the living room, so it felt like we should finish the rest.
"The living room," I said, making my choice.
Lucas led the way and set his box down in front of the mantle. Taking out the equipment, he lay it on the floor in a neat row.
"We're going to use this," he said, pointing to a rectangular metal box with a handle and a power cord, "to heat up the paint.
Just hot enough so it bubbles up off the wood.
Then we'll scrape it off and move on to the next section.
It's still a pain in the ass, but it's much easier than using that paint stripper. "
It didn't take long to work out a system, Lucas heating the paint and me coming behind him to scrape it off. The sight of raw wood emerging from beneath the paint scraper, inch after inch, thrilled me.
The house was shedding its past like an old skin, and I was making it happen. Well, I was part of making it happen. The first time I'd seen it, I'd known this place could be beautiful.
It could be a home, filled with warmth and love, despite its state of disrepair and neglect. A few feet of baseboard weren’t much, but it was one more step to bringing the home back to itself.
Maybe, in the process, I was bringing me back to myself, too. I must have been more quiet than I realized as we worked because Lucas sensed something was off.
"Did you have a fight with your brother when you went home?" he asked.
"No," I said slowly.
"Worried about what happened last night?"
I could take the easy way out and just say yes, but I wasn't really worried about the attack. If I hadn't had so much else on my mind, I probably would've been freaking out, but Lucas was right to sense my distraction.
I hadn't known him very long, but I got the sense he wouldn't bother to ask what I was thinking if he didn't really want to know. And if he really wanted to know, he wasn't going to take a vague answer.
"Can I trust you?" I asked.
Typically, Lucas's answer was honest, if not reassuring. "That depends. What do you want to trust me with?"
"A secret."
"About you? Or about someone else?"
"Both," I said. "I found something when I was at home. Aiden asked me not to tell anyone, but it's making me a little crazy. You're in the same line of work as Evers, right? You know how to keep your mouth shut."
Lucas laughed. "Yeah, I know how to keep my mouth shut. And I'll keep your secret. What's going on?"
I told him about the records I'd found, the adoption papers, the possibility that I had a cousin out there somewhere who didn't know he had a family.
When I was done, Lucas said, "You know, whoever he is, this guy might not want to be found. Or, he could already know who he is. He could already know who you are."
"What are you saying?" I asked, afraid I knew exactly what he was getting at.
"The pictures? Someone jumping you in your front yard?
I know you want to swoop in and find this guy and bring him into the fold.
You're imagining a joyous reunion, and maybe that's what's going to happen, but just because the lot of you Winters are nice people doesn't mean this guy is.
You don't know who raised him or what his life has been like. "
"But that's why we have to find him," I said. "What if he needs a family and he doesn't know we're here?"
Lucas shook his head at me and put down the heater, flicking it off.
He sat back on his heels and said gently, "Princess, you lost a big chunk of your family at a young age.
It's natural to want to fill in the gaps.
Maybe this guy is a good guy. I hope to hell he is when you find him. I'm just saying, be careful."