They drove several blocks in silence until he felt her clever hand inching up his leg. There was no reason not to take what she offered, but as soon as he thought it, a golden-eyed angel invaded his thoughts. “Is this your father’s proposition or yours?”
Her hand moved higher. “Which one are you saying yes to?”
“Neither. I’m saying no to one, and maybe to the other.”
Bold as usual, she rubbed him through his pants.
“The maybe is to your father, Blair. The no is to you.”
Quick as a snake her hand tightened. But he was quick too, and always anticipating the next move. He covered her wrist, applied enough pressure to send a strong warning before she got any ideas about twisting his balls.
“Your loss.” Her hand retreated, but her voice was cutting. “My proposal was the better one.”
Neither spoke again until they reached her Manhattan apartment building. He started to get out, figuring he’d take a cab.
“No. Take the car,” she said. “I’ll send for it tomorrow. And I’ll make sure Daddy knows you made it home safely.”
He watched her to the door. Not the first enemy he’d made in business, surely not the last. Though a woman scorned made for a particularly dangerous one.
Chapter 17
Stephen parked his motorcycle at the recreational soccer complex. He cut the engine and hit speed dial while he unbuckled his helmet. “Hey, been trying to reach you,” he said when Dave finally answered.
“Yeah. Sorry about that. What’s up?”
He put his helmet on the back and stood. “Just wanted to let you know I’ve decided against the St. Kitts deal with Sinclair.”
“He’s not going to be happy.”
“No.” A beat of silence followed and he wondered why Dave cared about Sinclair’s happiness. “Listen, one more thing. That piece of property you were interested in out on Highway Thirty-two”—the one he’d said no to—“it’s not for sale. I’m curious as to why you thought it was.”
“I didn’t. But I had some inside information we could get the jump on.”
“What kind of jump?” And why hadn’t that info been relayed to him?
“Just the scoop on a possible eminent domain case that would likely end in a sale. Why? What did you hear about it?”
“That it wasn’t for sale. That there was still a question of ownership.”
“Mmm.” Dave made a sound like he was only mildly interested. “Where’d you get that information?”
“From the owner.”
“Ah. Camila did mention your little detour a couple of weeks ago.”
That shouldn’t surprise him.
“So you’re that hot for her, huh? That why you were against the deal?”
Stephen heard the sneer, and the muscles in his jaw ticked. “She’s a nice woman. Does something with kids and horses. It’s a good thing. I’d hate to see her lose it. And my answer was no before I knew it was hers.”
“Right. Well, I’m sure if she can produce some certified documents, a copy of the will, there won’t be any trouble.”
“That’s the thing. She doesn’t think there is a will. Just a handwritten letter.”
“Really? Huh. That’s interesting.”
“But I plan to help her any way I can. It’s not high value, I haven’t found any reason they’d be going after it. Doesn’t make sense.”
“Nope. Doesn’t seem to.”
Stephen stuck the keys in his pocket and started walking. “Let me know if you hear anything else about the sale, will you?”
“Sure thing. And listen. I wanted to say I’m sorry if I’ve been distracted lately. My mom’s not doing well. Cancer.”
“Shit. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It was only tests at first. Guess I didn’t want to say it out loud, you know. Made it too real.”
“That’s tough, man. You need time, you take it. No problem.”
“Thanks, man.”
Shit. He ended the call and made his way between the fields. High-pitched whistles mixed with the squeals of kids and exuberant screams from parents. The entire expanse seemed to ripple in a mix of colors, running in chaotic packs. Matt had texted him the time and place of Annie’s soccer game, as he’d done several times recently. Matt’s kids were really the only ones Stephen had a chance to have a fresh start with. Until now, he hadn’t taken it.
Hannah’s words had echoed. They’re all you have. And here he was.
After locating the right field, it didn’t take him long to find his brother. With the McKinney height and build, Matt stood out. Especially with a tiny curly-topped toddler propped on one arm.
“Hey, man.”
Stephen didn’t miss the raised eyebrow or the surprise in his brother’s eyes. “Hey.”
His brother’s youngest, Mary, held out what might have been a soppy chunk of graham cracker.
“No, thanks.” He brushed a finger over the back of her dimpled hand. She squealed, mumbled something unintelligible, and smeared the goo across Matt’s cheek. God, she was cute. Like a mini version of Gracie. And Matt guarded all of them like a bear. Stephen almost reached out to hold her, but stuffed his hands in his pockets. “How’s the game?”
“Good. Tied.” Matt eyed the field. “Charlie, move back a bit, bud.”