“I snuck in before sunrise,” Troy informed her. He’d changed the leather for denim himself, and it made him a little less edgy and intimidating, but not much. “So we’re not worried about a daytime attack, I assume? I should consider myself safe and without the need of bodyguards?”
“You should consider yourself safe because you have bodyguards,” Aiden replied.
Her gaze met his, and she wished she hadn’t. Her stomach somersaulted like she was some sort of shy teenager, and he was the Captain of the Football team. It was ridiculous. Men didn’t make her feel like this. But then, she didn’t spread her legs and pant, on top of her kitchen counter for most men either.
“And,” Troy added, holding up some sort of remote control looking devise, “because I have state-of-the-art surveillance equipment set up, complete with silent alarms.” He set the gadget on the table. “Anyone steps on a piece of grass too close to the house, we’ll know it.” He held up the cereal. “Breakfast?”
“I’ll settle for coffee and you two telling me what I’m supposed to do now.” She didn’t move. Somehow, the idea of walking around in her t-shirt, felt very, very wrong now that Troy was here.
Aiden pushed to his feet and walked to the counter, grabbing a mug from her cabinet. “You do what you normally do.” He filled the mug, and then removed her favorite creamer from the fridge. Suddenly, he was in front of her, blocking her from Troy’s view and handing her the coffee. He opened the creamer and started to pour. “Say when.”
“When,” she said after a long pour. “And there is nothing normal about any of this.”
“All that matters is the bad guys think it is. What would you be doing right now if we weren’t here?”
“Lunch with my neighbor after the Yoga she tortures me into going to,” she said, trying not to think about sitting on that counter, her legs spread wide—with him, for him. “But I cancelled last night before going to the bar.”
“What else?”
“The same things everyone does on the weekends—groceries, movies, work.”
“Work?”
“Yes work. I usually go to my office a few hours on Saturday afternoon.”
Aiden stepped back from Kelly to eye Troy. “Wright will know that,” he said to his brother.
“Damn straight he will,” Troy agreed.
“Right,” she said, nerves curling in her stomach. “Time to head to the office, where I can draw a bull’s-eye on my chest.”
“The sooner this is over,” Aiden said, “the better.”
Her gaze met his when she’d really planned on avoiding a deep, penetrating stare. It was done now though, and she searched his face, wondering if he was more anxious to be done with her, or done with the bad guys.
***
Four hours later, Kelly stood in the lab of her office. Aiden and Troy had assured her they were a blink away if she needed them. Since that had proven more than true the night before, Kelly believed them, but she still felt antsy about the unlocked lab door. But the idea was to get attacked, not to stay safe as she wanted to, no matter how much her previous night’s poor judgment said different.
Exactly why she’d buried herself in her work since arriving, occupying her mind by testing residue samples of the substance the six dead women had all carried, looking for a reaction—something that identified it or deleted it. Mostly, that kept her from thinking of the unlocked door. It didn’t, however, prove effective in finding answers about the drug, she’d hoped for, or a reason why it would leave the users both dead, and depleted of blood.
She sighed and walked to her office, thinking she’d go home if this were a different day. But home included two big, hot, masculine men, one of which she had made a fool of herself with. She drew up short to find Aiden sitting in the corner chair of her office, a laptop in his lap.
She blinked. “How did you get in here?” There were no windows, no entrances.
“You were thinking pretty deeply, leaning over that microscope.”
“How long ago?”
He glanced at the Texas Longhorn clock on her wall. “About four hours ago.”
Her eyes went wide. “You’ve been here the entire time?”
“Pretty much,” he said. The phone on her desk began to ring and he set his laptop on the credenza next to him. “I’m placing odds on that being the Detective. It’s being recorded. Get him to say as much as you can.”
She inhaled and walked toward the desk, snatching up the receiver and wondering how she was going to speak with her heart lodged in her throat. “Hello,” she croaked.
“Kelly. Thank God. I hit some rough spots last night and I was afraid you didn’t make it out of the club safely.” It was the Detective and her gaze went to Aiden’s, a small nod confirming what he’d suspected.
“I’m fine, Detective, though I’m not sure I can thank you for that. Was all of that really necessary?”
“Yeah,” he said. “And I can’t explain why now, but it was, and it kept you alive.” He hesitated. “Look. I’ll explain when I can, but right now, I just needed to know you were safe. I’ll make last night up to you. I’ll get you your sample of the killer’s cocktail. I just need a few days. I’ll be in touch.” The line went dead.
Kelly stared at it and then shook her head. “He hung up.” She returned the receiver to the cradle. “He said he wanted to make sure I was okay and that he was getting me a sample and that was it.”
“He’s making sure you don’t go into hiding,” he said. “Planning to watch you a few days and make sure you aren’t being used as a setup.”
“Days,” she repeated flatly, staring at her desk so he wouldn’t see the moment of panic she felt. She liked control, she needed control, and she had none right now.
“Kelly,” he started and she knew instinctively he was about to talk about the kitchen, about her on that counter, acting like a wanton fool.
Her gaze rocketed to his. “I’m starving,” she said, walking to her drawer and grabbing her purse from inside. “I’m going to the store and then home. You coming?” She cringed at the choice of words and then somehow, without planning it, she blurted. “No. I forgot. That’s too dangerous.” She whirled on her heels and rushed away. Her mother had always told her that her mouth would get her in trouble, and she’d been pretty much right. However, at this point, she was already in trouble up to her neck. It couldn’t get much worse.
Then again, maybe it could. She could end up dead.
CHAPTER NINE
Kelly had changed into her favorite pink sweats and a t-shirt when she’d arrived home thirty-minutes before. Somehow it was seven o’ clock and she didn’t know how that had happened. Aiden had texted her as she pulled up to the house, telling her it was clear. She pretty much gathered that he was avoiding her. She hated that, but she knew she should be relieved. No more hot man breathing down her neck, reminding her how much she enjoyed said hot man breathing down her neck. And other places.