“Please don’t tell me you’re in love with me.” She tried to make light of it. Rather than tell him outright she didn’t think she could handle that much emotion right now, even when she knew his kind of love was the temporary sort.
Maybe because his love was temporary.
He looked back at her, not a smile in sight. “Is that supposed to make me laugh?”
The depth in his green eyes, packed with flint and spark and emotion, sent a longing popping through her veins. “I’m not sure.”
Liam didn’t answer, just drove deeper into the wilds of the Everglades until scents and sounds hummed all around them. His words hung there between them, all but floating on the humidity-laden air. And as she watched Liam feed every last bite of the po’ boy to the puppy, her heart squeezed until she felt less and less like laughing too.
Chapter 11
Brandon knew when he was being watched.
He just hated that all the crap going on in his life made him question whether he was paranoid. But from the moment he’d woken up on Catriona’s couch, he’d been certain. Someone was lurking around her place. The only question? Was that individual after him or her? Either way, he needed to stake out her place until he got the answer.
Parked deep in the driveway of an empty house for sale, he could see Cat’s home, most of it anyway. Definitely the front access. His hand fell to rest on his Australian shepherd mutt, threading through the fur.
He kept the windows open on his truck so Harley stayed cool and he could listen for anything out of the ordinary at Cat’s. Reaching behind him, he tugged a gallon jug of water over and leaned down to fill the bowl on the floorboards for Harley.
If he could just get in touch with Rachel. He’d heard her cell phone messages asking where he was, warning him to be careful, then nothing more. He pulled out his phone and thought about turning it back on. But that paranoia set in again. If someone was tracking his cell, he didn’t want to draw attention to his locale. Especially this close to Cat’s.
A fierce protectiveness filled him and he couldn’t delude himself into thinking it was anything but personal. He was getting involved with her at the worst possible time for a relationship.
So here he still sat. Alone with his dog. Staked out a couple of doors down from Catriona’s house. At least he was good at his job—or had been at one time—and no one had noticed him watching her home.
Who was he supposed to tell, since Rachel had fallen off the map? He’d already tried reaching out to officials. If he ended up locked in a loony bin, he wouldn’t be of any help to Cat.
He’d been all set to go home after breakfast, but while he was forking down French toast, he’d realized a silver sedan was casing her house. The vehicle had driven by at least three times before driving away. He’d warned her to be careful here alone, and she’d simply shrugged off his concern, insisting no one would mess with her because of all the dogs.
Her lack of concern fueled his determination to keep watch.
A movement caught his attention and he straightened in the seat, the weight of his gun in the holster familiar, comforting. A truck pulled onto the street, a black, crew cab Ford with a lone male in front.
Could just be someone dropping off or picking up a pet. Except the dude got out of the truck and—no dog. Catriona met him at the gate, no dog with her either.
Someone touring the place? Maybe. But still strange he hadn’t brought his pet along.
He profiled the guy. Military haircut. Lean but fit. Wearing what looked like some kind of festival T-shirt and running shorts. The back of his truck had a huge Gatorade dispenser.
So maybe the guy was a boyfriend. Just because he’d gotten vibes from Catriona that she was attracted to him didn’t mean squat. She could still have a boyfriend, or some guy who wanted to get to know her better.
Yeah, that fit better, because if she had a guy, there would have been signs.
Harley nudged him.
“Not now, girl.”
She head-butted him harder.
“Really, in a minute. I’m busy.”
She pawed him on the leg again and again.
“Okay, okay, you need to go out. All that water. Got it.” He turned to get her leash from the back.
And saw a silver sedan cruising down the street. Straight toward Catriona’s house. The guy riding shotgun had a shotgun. He pointed it through the open window, directly at Cat’s home.
Brandon whipped the truck into drive and nailed the gas. Tires squealing, he peeled out of the driveway, the nose of his truck aimed at the sedan.