Play It Again (2 page)

Vance’s eyes follow me the entire time.

My stomach flutters once more as I hand Vance
his water, though this time, it’s not a pleasant feeling. There’s
an odd expression on his face that takes me a moment to place.
Annoyance.

“The place looks good,” he grumbles after a
beat. “No goddamn security, but it’s
nice
.”

Nice.
My eyes narrow and my shoulders
straighten. What a crappy word. It’s an open concept bungalow with
floor to ceiling windows and French doors overlooking the backyard.
Fourteen-foot ceilings, and stainless steel appliances. Everything
is modern, and decorated perfectly.

My place isn’t
nice,
it’s
incredible.

Before I can tell him exactly what I think of
his assessment, Wes says, “Gonna need to replace the lock on the
French doors. Wouldn’t take much to pick it, or snap it with the
right tools.”

“The door from the garage into the house
needs a new lock, too,” Jase adds, turning to look at me, his lips
drawn tight.

“There’s locks on the windows,” I say with
slight offence, even though I know they are right. The security
here sucks. “And a deadbolt and chain lock on the door.”

“Jesus, Piper,” Vance grinds out, glaring at
me. “Kim said you needed an update, not a full-blown overhaul.
You’ve been here six months now. You should have called. I would
have put in a goddamn system when you moved in.”

I open my mouth, and then close it when
nothing comes out. They’ve only just gotten their drinks, and they
already look as though they want to throttle me.

Crapsicles. This isn’t going well.

Vance

Piper folds her arms over her breasts,
shifting from foot to foot. She blinks at me, and her mouth keeps
opening and closing, as though she wants to say something, but she
can’t find the right words.

It’s been almost six months since I’ve seen
her last and I swear the woman is more beautiful now than she ever
was. I scan her instinctively, exhaling slowly, keeping my
expression blank. Her skin is smooth, the color of cream, and her
nose and cheeks are dotted with freckles. Her long, naturally red
hair is pulled back into a braid that hangs down her back. She’s
wearing a black ribbed tank top and the skinniest jeans I’ve ever
seen, making her look curvy as hell, and with the way her arms are
folded over her breasts, I can see the edges of her bra at her
sides. I can’t stop myself from wondering if her underwear is made
of the same hot pink lace.

The thought momentarily distracts me.

Her eyes dart around the room, looking
anywhere but at me. She’s always been a little shy around me, and
has never been very talkative, but she looks even more anxious than
normal, which I guess makes sense since I’m clearly angry, but it’s
only because she’s being careless.

I should have come over here when she first
moved in. I thought about it. I almost offered, too. But she’s
always so goddamn nervous around me that I figured she’d just blow
me off.

She always blows me off.

Always has an excuse.

But Christ, I thought she had more sense than
this. If I wanted to get into this house, I figure I could do it in
about two minutes flat.

And that would be taking my time.

Silence ensues as I wait for some kind of
response from her. For the first time in probably forever, Wes and
Jase keep their mouths shut, seemingly content to just watch us.
I’m pretty sure they’re just as pissed off as I am, seeing the crap
locks on her house, and the lack of any kind of security. She
didn’t even put in window alarms, and you can find those at the
goddamn dollar store.

Seconds tick by. Five, maybe ten, before
Piper looks at me. She unconsciously hugs her arms tighter over her
breasts, pushing them together and making her cleavage pop further.
“Um ... I don’t really know you, Vance,” she says, scrunching her
freckle dotted nose. “I’m not entirely sure why you’d think I’d
call you to put in a security system.”

I snort, arching a brow. What a bullshit
excuse. She might have avoided me. She might have even gone as far
to run the other way every time she saw me coming, but she knows
me. “You’ve got my number on your phone listed as badass hottie and
it’s been there since that first day you moved in with Kim. I’m
gonna guess that you haven’t deleted it.”

Timidly, Piper ducks her head, refusing to
meet my eyes as pink creeps up her neck, settling into her
cheeks.

It’s a gorgeous shade.

“Oh my God,” she mumbles under her breath.
“I’m going to kill Kim.”

Wes laughs, but it comes out as a wheezing
choking sound, as though he’s trying to swallow it. He turns his
back to us, walking over to the French doors and bending down as
though he is inspecting the lock further. He’s not. I’m certain
he’s just trying to hide the shit-eating grin splitting his
face.

“You should have used the number,” I say.
“You shouldn’t have fuckin’ waited this long.”

“Vance … I, uh ...” She presses her lips
together and her jaw ticks as though she’s grinding her teeth. “I
don’t really know what to tell you. I didn’t think I needed
it.”

“Obviously, you were wrong,” I say. “You
wouldn’t have called Kim to get in touch with me otherwise.” I know
I’m being a dick, but I can’t help it. You’d think after everything
I did to make sure her and Kim’s apartment was safe, she’d take at
least a few simple precautions.

“You about done, Vance?” Jase asks, annoyance
thick in his voice. Whether it’s at me or at the situation I’m not
entirely sure, but he’s glaring at me; I can feel it, though I
can’t pull my eyes away from Piper to glare back at him.

I almost tell him to fuck off, but I bite it
back. “Yeah, I’m done.”

From my peripheral vision, I notice him move
toward the couch and take a seat. He sets his glass down on the
coffee table, and then leans forward, resting his forearms on his
knees and dangling his hands between them.

“Why don’t you tell us what’s been going on,
Piper,” he says, managing a gentle and encouraging tone.

She frowns, unfolding her arms and looking
around, avoiding my face. “Didn’t Kim already explain all this to
you guys?”

He nods. “She said you have a stalker, but I
wanna hear what’s been going on from you.”

“I don’t have a stalker,” she says tersely,
her jaw tightening. “Someone’s been messing with me, but it’s not a
stalker.”

“Gonna need a little more than that, babe,”
Wes says, as he crosses the room and takes a seat next to Jase. He
leans back, extending one arm along the back of the couch, crossing
his right leg over his left knee, and rests his glass on his thigh.
“What do you mean someone’s been messing with you?”

She hesitates, her eyes flickering to me
again. I can see her concern as she fidgets with her clothing. “Um,
well,” she says, her voice quiet, passive. “Ten days ago, someone
threw a brick through my front window. Nine days ago, someone keyed
my truck right in my driveway. Eight days ago, someone spray
painted the words ‘stay away’ across my garage door.” She laughs
once, shaking her head. “That one really pissed me off. The jerk
didn’t even have the courtesy to tell me what the hell I need to
stay away from.” She stalls for a tick, her jaw tightening once
more. “Each day it’s something new, a new piece of my property
vandalized.”

“So you want us to find who’s doing this?” I
say.

Piper looks at me, her expression turning
hard. “No, I don’t want you to find anyone. All I want is a
security system. Something with cameras so the police can ID the
person.”

I move in front of her, meeting her gaze
straight on. My eyes narrow, as I stare at her for a moment. It’s
peculiar to me how casually she talks about her situation, as
though having someone threaten her and destroy her property is no
big deal, but there’s something about her voice that sounds off,
and I catch the uneasy look on her face. “What’s really going on
here, Piper?”

She looks away from me, her gaze shifting
over my shoulder, and she shrugs helplessly. “If I knew that,” she
says, “I wouldn’t want video surveillance, would I?”

Piper

I’m sitting in my home office, staring at my
computer. I should be working. I have four deadlines coming up next
week and I’ve barely begun the projects. I’m a book cover designer
and I have clients counting on me, but I just can’t focus. I’m too
exhausted to really get anything done, too distracted to
concentrate.

And it really doesn’t help that I can hear
the guys moving around the house, hammering and drilling, doors
opening and closing.

Leaning back in my leather office chair, I
prop my feet up on my desk and cross my legs at the ankles. My
muscles are strained, coiled along my shoulders, stretched through
my neck and back. My mind is stuck on all the stuff Vance is
installing in my house. Door sensors, window sensors, motion
detectors, video surveillance … The alarm system they are
installing is completely over-the-top and definitely not what I
would have chosen, but I’ve got to admit I’m oddly nervous and
excited that Vance has gone to so much trouble for me.

My cell phone chirps and I lean forward,
picking it up from my desk to take a look. It’s a text message from
Kim.

Kim: How did it go?

I sit there for a moment, clutching my phone,
staring at the message, before I start laughing. I just laugh,
shaking my head. I bet she knows exactly how it went.

I consider how to respond, debating on
whether I should give her hell now, or wait until I see her, before
I take hold of my phone with both hands, punching in my
response.

Me: I think I might hate you.

Kim: LOL. Meeting went well, I take it.

Me: You have no idea. Oh, wait. That’s right, you do
have an idea. I can’t believe you told him!

Kim: You need more than some stupid security system.
I told him for your own good.

Me: Seriously? How is him knowing that he’s in my
phone under badass hottie for my own good?

Kim: Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. He told you? He
wasn’t supposed to tell you.

I imagine her cringing and smirk. Good, I
hope she feels bad. Serves her right.

Me: Well, he did, and he did it in front of Jase and
Wes. He also brought a ridiculously high tech alarm system with
him. They are installing it now.

Kim: I figured he would.

Me: You should have warned me.

Kim: You would have cancelled.

I tilt my head as I read the text, thinking
that she’s probably right. I would have canceled. The truth is, I
didn’t want to use Vance in the first place.

The man makes me nervous.

Beyond nervous.

He always has.

There’s just something there, something
special about him that pulls me in, yet, twists me up.

But Kim insisted, telling me he would flip if
he found out I hired someone else and that knowing him, he’d
probably end up ripping it out and installing a new one.

I let out a deep sigh, as I type out another
message.

Me: You also told him I have a stalker.

Kim: It’s for your own good, Pipes.

I roll my eyes.

Me: I don’t have a stalker.

Kim: Whatever. Just let them do their thing. It’s
what they do.

Stifling a groan, I almost point out that all
they are doing is installing an alarm system, but I don’t. I’m just
too tired to deal with it right now.

Me: We still on for tomorrow night?

Kim: Hell, yeah. I need a girl’s night.

Me: K, gotta get back to work. Later.

Kim: Later.

Sighing, and swinging my legs off my desk, I
put my phone aside and turn back to the computer, trying to get
some work done.

Vance

“Yo, Vance,” Wes calls as he comes into the
kitchen. “You seen Piper?”

“She’s working,” I say, reaching up over the
sink, and placing a sensor on the window frame. “What do you
need?”

He stares at me for a tick. “I’m ready to
start on the monitors. You know where she wants them?”

I consider the placement for a moment, even
consider going and asking her, but I don’t. I’m still too pissed
off that she didn’t call me sooner, and knowing her, she’ll
probably just tell me she doesn’t want them installed anywhere.

Grabbing the receiver, I line it up with the
sensor, before affixing it to the windowsill. “Office, bedroom, and
living room.”

He nods and begins to turn away, but
hesitates, looking back at me. “You planning on leaving this at
just a system install?”

Pausing, I turn back to him. I don’t respond
immediately, because I honestly don’t know what to say. Piper made
it clear she doesn’t want me involved, but the thought of leaving
this alone makes a knot twist in my gut. “And if I’m not?”

He grins, shrugging one shoulder. “Then I’d
ask you what you know about her.”

Stopping what I’m doing, I put the receiver
down and turn to him, leaning against the counter and folding my
arms over my chest.

What do I know about her?

A hell of a lot.

I know she’s twenty-three. She’s from
Indiana, came to Sacramento for school, and finished her degree in
graphic design six months early. She has a sister who is twenty-one
and a brother who is eighteen. Her parents died when she was
eleven, and her grandmother raised her. She has two credit cards,
which she religiously pays off every month, two days before the
bill comes in. She owns her house, no mortgage, paid for it with
her trust fund, and she’s self-employed, her business, designing
book covers.