Graham had to admit she had a point. “Probably,” he sighed. “I know Doogan. He’d break Zoey. Hell, he’d break any woman with a heart.”
“And I wouldn’t want you in a position where you felt you had to look out for her emotional safety,” she sighed. “Besides. Eve, Piper, Zoey, and I swore to each other, unless it was life or death, we’d never tell anyone, even Momma, certain things. So if Zoey is seeing someone, no matter who it is, I can’t tell you. She’s my sister, Graham, and I swore. She kept my interest in you a secret even when Dawg all but interrogated her. If she hadn’t, Dawg would have tried to stand in my way every time Kyleene invited me here to the house.”
And if he had, Graham knew, then Dawg might have kept them apart far longer than Graham’s own ignorance had.
“They just wanted your safety,” he sighed. “Each of you has been at risk for one reason or another. It would kill them if anything happened to any of you.”
The mocking smile she shot him had his brows lifting curiously.
“Rowdy once said if we wanted to have a relationship without interference, then choose a nice, safe man to have a relationship with,” she revealed. “When I told Zoey that last year, she tried them on it. Stanley Kelly, the accountant in town? Remember him?”
Graham grimaced. Stanley was a boring little man but definitely a safe one.
Lyrica laughed at his expression. “Stanley left town for nearly a month when Rowdy informed him he wasn’t good enough for Zoey. When she protested, he laughed and told her to find a man he couldn’t frighten away. Then told her Stanley peed himself that day. Zoey felt horrible. She and Stanley were actually friends. He won’t even speak to her now.” Humor filled her eyes. “Kyleene thinks Dawg and the cousins do all this crap to ensure that the men we’re with love us and will protect us. But Zoey, of all of us, will not tolerate it, Graham. Better yet, she’ll make damned sure they don’t find out until she’s been married a year and ready to have that first child.” Lyrica laughed, then sobered. “That or she’ll just leave us and go far enough away that they can’t interfere, period. And that would break all our hearts.”
He didn’t know about what Zoey would do, but he did know that the Mackays, Timothy Cranston, and several of their friends were definitely involved in manipulating the sisters into the arms of the men they’d chosen for them. And he knew the candidate they had in mind for Zoey didn’t have a hope of keeping up with her.
“Do you think Zoey would actually keep a relationship hidden that long?” She’d be smart to do just that, he thought, amused.
“I hope she doesn’t,” Lyrica revealed with a heavy sigh. “We’ve been keeping the wedding gown Piper finished for her a secret for years. Eve and I both agreed Zoey deserved the only gown Piper would have time to dedicate herself to. And it is a fairy-tale dream. A fairy tale Zoey painted years ago. I’d cry if she didn’t get to wear it.”
The Mackay sisters were hopeless romantics, Graham knew. He just hoped the man Zoey eventually fell in love with would be just as romantic.
Maybe he should have a talk with Billy Ray and his stepbrother, which would effectively keep Eli from Zoey’s vengeance. Billy and Jack Clay were Zoey’s co-conspirators. They gave her a chance to hit that adrenaline high and kept her from getting hurt while she did it. Not that she’d hurt Eli if he told, but she was damned picky about loyalty; Lyrica wasn’t lying about that. Zoey would expect Graham to poke his nose in, though.
“Don’t do it, Graham.” His wife watched him with a knowing, somber gaze. “Don’t put that between me and my sister. If you find out anything and she learns you told anyone but me, then that will always be there between us. If Dawg destroys a relationship that means something to her, she will never forgive her brother. Please, let it go.”
Please.
He let out a hard breath and gave her a slow, accepting nod.
“But.” She grinned. “If you find out who it is by accident before I do, you can tell me. I’ll keep your secrets, hot stuff. You can trust me.”
That was his wife.
God, he loved her . . .
SEVEN
Zoey was in the front garage when Lyrica drove up to the open bay doors. Stepping from her pickup, her sister shot her a chiding smile.
“I want to grow up and be you,” Lyrica laughed as they headed for the steps leading to the second floor of the converted warehouse. “Especially after seeing how totally scared you have Eli of you. I swear, he’s like a grumpy rattler.”
“Eli’s having issues,” Zoey snorted. “And he better keep his mouth shut.”
“Oh, he’ll keep it shut,” Lyrica promised without turning back. “But it’s killing him.” The second Lyrica actually got a look straight at her, Zoey knew there would be no evading her sister’s questions. The bite mark she was sporting at the base of her neck was rivaled only by the one she’d left on Doogan’s neck.
She’d glimpsed the one she left on Doogan before exhaustion dragged her into sleep the night before. The one he’d left on her was just as bad.
Reaching the door, Lyrica stepped through ahead of Zoey, then came to a hard, shocked stop, nearly causing Zoey to plow into her back.
Not that she blamed her sister; Zoey was suddenly rather speechless herself.
Doogan stood in the middle of her kitchen with nothing but a towel secured at his lean hips and the hickey from hell marring the right side of his neck, incredibly close to his jugular vein. He was obviously headed back to her bedroom with a cup of coffee.
His dark hair was damp; sunlight gleamed across the dark strands, picking up lighter highlights that she hadn’t noticed the night before. Tight, taut abs tightened above the towel while the light mat of hair on his chest looked far too inviting.
“Well, hell.” He frowned, his brown eyes cool as his gaze slid from Lyrica to Zoey, regret flickering in his gaze. “I thought you were alone, Zoey. I’m sorry.”
“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Lyrica whispered, waving her hands in front of her face as she stared at him, eyes wide. “Dawg’s gonna have pups when he finds out about this. Doogan, you can’t . . .”
“Lyrica,” Zoey said softly, warningly.
“I’ll just get dressed.” Doogan gave his head a little shake and strode to her bedroom. “Sorry, Zoey.”
They watched him disappear, the door closing quietly behind him.
Zoey bit her lips and lifted her gaze to the skylights above them. No way Lyrica missed that hickey on his neck.
“Oh God. You slept with him . . .” her sister wheezed.
Zoey cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Well, we didn’t sleep much.”
Lyrica’s smothered squeal had Zoey’s gaze jerking to her in shock at the sound. Her sister was staring at her, hands pressed against her flushed cheeks, her green eyes dancing with sheer disbelief.
“Oh my God,” she choked.
“You said that already, Lyrica.” Zoey glared back at her. “What’s wrong with him?” Hell, Zoey thought, she hadn’t found a damned thing wrong with him.
“Oh my God, that look on your face,” Lyrica exclaimed.
“What look?” Ducking her head, Zoey stalked away from her sister and headed for the kitchen. “I need coffee.”
“Oh, Zoey, please don’t let Dawg find out,” Lyrica whispered. “That so wasn’t his pick for you.”
They’d seen enough, heard enough to know that Dawg, Rowdy, and Natches, as well as Timothy and several of their closest friends, had been playing matchmakers in the oddest ways where Dawg’s sisters were concerned.
“Yeah, well, his choices sucked anyway,” Zoey snapped. “And if I wanted one of the men he’s lined up I could have had them at any time since the day we arrived in Somerset. Stop worrying, Lyrica. I have a handle on it.”
“Oh, Zoey,” Lyrica sighed pityingly. “Haven’t we warned you about lying to yourself? I was so certain we had—”
“Shut up!” Zoey demanded. “And stop worrying. Now, where’s the babies? With Momma?”
>
“Zoey, listen to me,” Lyrica demanded, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Honey, you don’t understand. If anyone asks, Graham, or Brogan, who the one man was that would send them straight to Dawg if he’s seen with you, the answer is him.” She pointed to the bedroom door. “He gets people shot at. Hell, even Brogan wants to shoot him. But, Zoey . . .”
“Well, I just want to do him, and I’d prefer to do him in peace if you don’t mind,” she snapped back, watching Lyrica’s eyes widen a second before her lips parted, closed, and then she shook her head with a groan.
“God, Lyrica, shouldn’t I be able to choose who my first lover is . . .”
“But Zoey, honey, he’ll break your heart,” Lyrica whispered.
“I know.” And she did. “But he’s my choice, Lyrica. Isn’t that what counts?”
“You love him,” Lyrica said softly, surprised. “Zoey.”
And she’d had enough. Turning from her sister, she all but stomped to the coffeepot. “You want coffee or you want to get all weepy and maudlin on me? Really? You’d think I could have what I want, just once, without worrying about big brother.”
Just this once, let her have something for herself, just in case life as she knew it, was over soon.
“Oh my God, Zoey. If big brother finds out, he’ll hurt Doogan. Of any man on the face of this earth, Doogan is the one he’ll lose his mind over,” her sister warned her.
“That’s when I’ll leave, Lyrica.” Turning back to her, Zoey knew if Dawg did one thing to ruin this for her before Doogan left on his own, then she’d leave herself. And she’d never come back.
“Oh, Zoey.” Lyrica knew what Zoey had already accepted.
Dawg would find out and he would, as she said, have pups. But if he interfered, she’d make sure he never interfered in any other choice she ever made again.
—
Doogan lowered his head as he heard Zoey’s promise to her sister.
Listening to them through the small earbud he was testing the listening devices with, Doogan shook his head wearily. Zoey admitted she knew he was going to break her heart, and still she wanted him. He was her choice, she stated. He wasn’t her brother’s pick but hers alone. As though Eli could handle her. The other suspected pick was Shane Mayes, the former sheriff, Ezekiel Mayes’s son. And though Shane was a fine man, one Doogan wouldn’t have minded having as an agent, he was still a far cry from a match for Zoey.
He gave a mocking sneer at the thought of the men Dawg chose before disconnecting the earbud as Zoey and Lyrica’s conversation turned to babies and Lyrica’s marital bliss. What kind of husband Graham Brock was didn’t concern him in the least.
He was a little perturbed with himself, though, for not making certain Zoey was actually alone when he heard the door open. The bright spot in that was the comment Lyrica made indicating that the sisters refrained from sharing each other’s secrets with anyone else. Which explained why they managed to actually get so many things past their brother and cousins. Finishing his coffee Doogan dressed in jeans and a narrow, white striped gray shirt. Sitting at the edge of the bed he pulled on well-worn leather ankle boots, laced them, then rose to his feet and left the bedroom. Where he once again faced Zoey’s wide-eyed sister.
“I’ll be in the garage, Zoey.” Damn Lyrica; he’d waited to get back, shower, and have another taste of Zoey. He hadn’t expected her sister to show up.
“You don’t have to leave, Doogan,” she said softly, a hint of concern flashing in her pale green eyes. “Trust me, Lyrica won’t even tell Graham about seeing you here. Though Eli will probably tell him about seeing you at the race.”
“Not this morning he didn’t,” Lyrica revealed. “I talked to Graham just after Eli left and he had no clue.”
“Eli and I talked last night,” Doogan assured them. “He won’t say anything.”
Lyrica still watched him intently, a small frown at her forehead as her gaze raked over him again before pausing at the mark on his neck. Zoey’s mark.
“I’ll be in the garage, then.” He nodded to Zoey and her sister before moving past them to the hall leading to the end of the second level of the building and the metal staircase they’d used the night before.
He wanted to make certain the bike was at peak performance, while also ensuring it provided the best balance to weight for Zoey before that next race. She was small and delicate without the strength to manhandle the machine as the male racers did. He had a few ideas to fix that. There were also items he needed to purchase for her riding gear to ensure her safety. A new helmet for sure. The one she had wouldn’t protect her hard head effectively, and he didn’t want her risking more than a few bruises.
Bruises were a necessary part of life, he thought; anything more serious wouldn’t be tolerated, though.
“What’s with all the funny looks?” Zoey demanded as Doogan could be heard moving quickly down the metal staircase.
“Hell, Zoey, he walked out dressed like a normal person.” Lyrica blinked back at her as she leaned her elbows on the counter, where they were sitting across from each other. “If I hadn’t known who he was, I wouldn’t have recognized him.”
She liked the way he looked, Zoey decided. She’d seen him all GQ proper two weeks before, and though he’d looked damned good, he looked even better in jeans.
“Maybe Dawg will have the same problem if he sees him, then.” Zoey could only hope.
“Eli says he always manages to get himself or his agents shot whenever on a mission,” Lyrica told her, obviously worried. “He acts scared to death whenever Graham has to send him to meet with Doogan.”
“I’m not one of his agents,” Zoey pointed out.
“Why is he here with you, Zoey?” her sister asked, leaning forward worriedly. “Whatever he’s in Somerset for, it’s not to work on your bike or because he just couldn’t stand another day that he wasn’t in your bed. And if it was because of a case or an investigation, he would have met with Graham, and I would have known he was in town.”
“It’s not to get me shot at,” Zoey assured her, but she had to admit that question had bothered her throughout the day as well, despite his answer the night before. “It’s probably just spy stuff,” she finally told her sister. “No one knows he’s here, though, and he won’t be here long. Stop worrying.”
“One of us has to,” Lyrica objected, lifting her coffee cup to her lips. “It’s obvious you don’t intend to.”
“Lyrica, sometimes I’m very scared it’s too late to worry about that. I just want to live, just in case those nightmares aren’t nightmares. And I want to experience the touch of a man I can’t say no to . . .”
“That man can have you locked up, baby sister,” Lyrica warned her softly. “Those nightmares ambush you. You never know . . .”
“I know that.” Raking her fingers through her hair, Zoey turned quickly from her sister.
“Zoey, I’m scared for you,” Lyrica whispered.
“I trust him.” Zoey didn’t know why, couldn’t explain why. “He’ll break my heart, I have no doubt.” She turned back to Lyrica slowly. “If he left right now, my heart would shatter, Lyrica. But he’d try to protect me. I know he would.”
“Zoey . . .”
“It was a nightmare,” she whispered, and she had no idea why she kept telling herself that. “We know it’s a nightmare. Right?”
“Zoey.” Lyrica reached out and covered her sister’s hand gently. “It was a nightmare. You know that. He was seen that night leaving town, and you said yourself when you woke up, you were in your own bed at the inn. Come on, no one can get into those rooms without the cameras showing something. You checked the cameras, right?”
“And he hasn’t been seen since,” Zoey whispered. “Something happened that night. I don’t know what, I don’t know why I know it, but I know it did. Something bad.”
She could feel it. Everything inside her assured her there was a reason for those nightmares. Yet, as Lyrica said, Harley had been
seen leaving town late that same night. Even the woman he’d been sleeping with had seen him at the convenience store along with dozens of customers, including Samantha Bryce, a detective on the Somerset police force.
But Lyrica was right. Zoey had checked the cameras as soon as she’d had a chance. A few squirrels had slipped across the porch, moths had slapped against the porch light, but no one had slipped into her room, or out of it. The same for the hall camera. Zoey had watched a mouse her mother was unaware they had run along the baseboards, but no one had crept to her room or out of it.
There was nothing but Zoey’s certainty that something had happened.
Nothing made sense or added up. She was actually worried enough that she was somehow crazy that she’d created a bucket list. A list of adventures she wanted to experience before losing her sanity completely. Or being arrested.
“It was just a nightmare,” Lyrica objected. “If it hadn’t been, honey, you wouldn’t have woken in your own bed, in your pajamas. Remember that. You didn’t hurt anyone, Zoey. Come on, you know you didn’t hurt anyone.”
When she was awake, she knew it had to be a nightmare. She’d gone to sleep in her bed; she’d woken in her bed. But the nightmares . . . God, the nightmares were like memories, so vivid and so messed up she woke screaming, terrified.
“Zoey.” Lyrica reached out, her hand covering hers, concern filling her emerald eyes. “Please, please talk to Natches about this. If anyone knows where to find Harley . . .”
“No.” Jerking her hand back, Zoey moved quickly from the counter, panic suddenly tearing through her, the certainty of danger, of a gun sight aimed at her almost overwhelming her.
The nightmare threatened to become a delusion, a hallucination. A waking hell she couldn’t escape.
“Zoey . . . ?” It was her sister’s voice, filled with an edge of fear that had Zoey pushing those visions back, fighting to escape them.
“This has nothing to do with Natches.” She forced herself to control her breathing, to push back the fear. Natches wouldn’t hurt her. He would never hurt her. But he didn’t need to know about this.