Echo Lake. Carla Neggers

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СКАЧАТЬ meant the tree was about to fall on his house. In working with him, Heather had discovered it wasn’t that he was dramatic, and certainly not that he was demanding, so much as he simply didn’t know. He lacked experience and erred on the side of caution.

      When the waitress, one of Heather’s classmates from high school, withdrew, Justin picked up his coffee mug and leaned back in his chair. “How’s work at Vic’s place going?”

      “Great.” An honest answer, she thought, grateful when her own coffee arrived. “He wants to see loads of lumber and guys with saws and hammers, but we’re not there yet. He’s decided to add a wine cellar. I’ve been working on that. Adrienne Portale is advising me. She’s toured some of the best wine cellars in the world. Have you met her?”

      “Not yet,” Justin said.

      Eric shook his head. “Me, either. You’ve been spending a lot of time up there, haven’t you?”

      Heather shrugged. “I guess. It’s a complicated job.”

      “We have nothing against Vic, but I wouldn’t describe us as fans, either,” Justin said. “He might have been a stellar diplomat, but he’s also an old womanizer with no family to speak of.”

      “What’s that got to do with me?” She dumped cream into her coffee. “Trust me, Vic has no designs on me. He’s lived in a different world from us but not that different.”

      “I was thinking more on the lines he could have regrets,” Eric said.

      Her brothers’ breakfasts arrived. Justin picked up a triangle of buttered whole-grain toast. “Vic won’t take to retirement easily. He’s not the type. He’s used to a lot of adventure, adrenaline and attention. When he was working, Knights Bridge was a break from that.”

      “Maybe it’s all he wants now,” Heather said.

      “Peace and quiet and a nice house in the country?” Eric shook his head. “I doubt it.”

      Justin added fresh-ground pepper to his eggs. “People often take some time when they retire to look back at their lives. Vic’s never married. He’s never had kids. He’s never cultivated friendships in Knights Bridge, which he now wants to call home after living all over the world. Is he keeping his apartment in New York?”

      “I don’t think he’s decided yet,” Heather said.

      “He’s in transition.” Justin handed her the pepper grinder, but there was nothing casual about him this morning. “Your work up there puts you in the middle of that transition.”

      “He says he’s committed to the renovations. I’ve no reason to doubt him.” Heather’s own breakfast arrived, and she grabbed her fork and stabbed a bit of onion in the home fries. “Vic doesn’t strike me as a man with many regrets.”

      “You never know,” Eric said. “You get older and start thinking about what you missed, what you gave up for reasons good and bad—what you screwed up. He’s had an all-consuming career, and he’s calling it quits on the young side for a diplomat. What’s he going to do with himself?”

      “I don’t know. Read books and drink wine. He’ll figure it out.” Heather drank some of her coffee, aware of her brothers’ scrutiny. Nothing new, but best to resist any hint of defensiveness. “Anyway, I’m overseeing renovations. I’m not his retirement consultant.”

      Eric studied her in that big-brother way she sometimes found reassuring and other times found annoying. He wasn’t a police officer for no reason. “Heather,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”

      “I’m hungry. I woke up forgetting I don’t have any food in the house.”

      Eric shook his head. “That’s not it.”

      “Come on,” Justin said. “Out with it.”

      She reached for the little dish of homemade strawberry jam. “I had to walk over here. My truck wouldn’t start last night, and I ended up leaving it at Vic’s. Dead battery.”

      “How did you get home?” Justin asked.

      “I got a ride.”

      “Vic? This house sitter, Adrienne Portale?”

      “No.” Heather set the dish in front of her. “Not Vic or Adrienne.”

      Justin sighed. “Then who?”

      She spread jam on a triangle of her toast.

      Eric snatched up his coffee. “Hell, Heather, why are you stonewalling? If you’ve got some secret boyfriend, just tell us to mind our own damn business—”

      “Brody Hancock gave me a ride home.”

      “Brody Hancock? Are you serious?” Justin groaned, looking as if he were about to jump up out of his chair. “Damn, Heather. You could have called me for a ride. You didn’t have to rely on Brody. What’s he doing here?”

      “I don’t know. He says Vic invited him. I had no idea until I ran into him yesterday. He got in late the night before. He’s a Diplomatic Security Service agent now.”

      She deliberately left out finding Rohan in the brook and her reaction to Brody. She didn’t need to get into those particular details. There were some things her brothers didn’t need to know, and she had a good feel for what they were. In any case, she’d chalked up her intense, immediate physical attraction to him to the adrenaline of her puppy rescue. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t used to being around buff guys.

      Eric held on to his coffee mug without picking it up. “Brody’s a DSS agent now? You’re sure nothing is going on out there?”

      “Vic took in a golden retriever puppy who’s causing him fits. Other than that, no, nothing.” Heather ignored both brothers’ scrutiny and tried her toast. “Strawberry jam reminds me of summer. Look, if you guys have any questions about what’s going on, ask Vic. Ask Brody.”

      “You’re just minding your own business,” Justin said.

      “Do I hear a trace of sarcasm, Justin? Yes, as a matter of fact, I am minding my own business. I didn’t even recognize Brody at first.”

      Eric pushed his mug away from him. “He drove you home last night.”

      “Why wouldn’t he?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “He didn’t interrogate me about anything, if that’s what you’re wondering. It’s not like there are any secrets in Knights Bridge, anyway.”

      “There are a million secrets in Knights Bridge,” Eric said.

      “And not one of them is mine. My life is under constant scrutiny.”

      Justin rolled his eyes. “Relax. We haven’t searched Phoebe’s house yet now that you’re staying there.”

      “I know. I can tell. I leave a thread in a door to detect intruders.”

      It wasn’t true, and she was only half-serious, but bringing up her position in their family had become her refrain whenever she was feeling the heat. Sometimes it even worked. СКАЧАТЬ