SEALed With Love (DiCarlo Brides book 2) (The DiCarlo Brides) (13 page)

Sage read between the lines. “You were on your own a lot?”

“Mostly.” His face had gone unreadable, but that was common for him. It was impossible to get more than the vaguest impressions off of him, which irked her to no end.

She rolled her eyes at his general comments. “Your verbosity is overwhelming.”

“You don’t talk like a normal person, you know that?”

“I do. Most of the time.” But she wasn’t going to let him take her off track. “So you hung with friends a lot when you weren’t in school, right? Are you in touch with any of them still?”

“No.” He played with the water bottle, twisting it on the countertop, his movements methodical. “Most of them are dead or in jail now.”

She was a little taken aback by his bald statement. “And how come you aren’t?” Sage brushed her fingers along his arm, trying to offer the only comfort he would accept from her. “You never get caught?” He was super stealthy, but she couldn’t see him as a thief or con man. He was straight as an arrow.

He laughed at that—a real laugh that actually reached his eyes. “No, I did get caught. It was probably the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“You have to explain that.” She scooped some hummus into a chip and ate it, barely taking her eyes off of him.

He tossed the wrapper for his snack in the nearby garbage can. “I got caught on a minor offense and spent some time in juvie. My parole officer had a talk with me when I was released, told me the road I was headed down would kill me. He suggested I join the military—get out, find new friends, make a future for myself. I decided he was right and joined up. That’s how I became a SEAL. I made a clean break for a new start. My friends didn’t get that nudge in the right direction.”

Sage could tell he was uncomfortable revealing even those few stark details, but they were more than she’d been able to wheedle out of him over the previous five months. She had to push for one more answer before letting him off the hook for the night. “And what did your grandma think about that?”

Joel stood and picked up the dish rag, wiping at the counter—the only thing that could conceivably need cleaning in his immaculate, stark house. “She died before I got caught.”

“I’m sorry.” She put a hand on his arm, unable to stop herself from offering him compassion and understanding.

He froze, then turned to look at her, sadness in his eyes. “Thanks.”

Sage had never wanted to slide into someone’s arms as much as she did at that moment. Their shared gaze lingered, and she thought the emotion in his turn into something else, something more like the want that filled her chest. She leaned toward him and thought his head lowered toward hers. Her lips tingled at the anticipation of his touch.

And then he moved away, dropping the dish rag in the sink. “You about ready to go? I’ll walk you home.”

She swallowed as she looked at the back of his head. “Yeah. I probably should go.” Though she treasured every minute she spent with him, Sage wondered if their proximity would drive her crazy before the threat ended. At the same time, she wished he didn’t live next door—the walk would be over far too fast.

Joel checked his watch deliberately when Jonquil let him into their house the next morning and he found Sage still sitting at the kitchen bar. She was reading the newspaper aloud to Cami. “You’re not ready to leave yet?” he asked.

Sage held up a finger and continued reading. “Plans will fall apart today, but if you hold it together, you’ll find it all comes out in the end. Tonight will be a good one to get together with your significant other.”

“Good vibes for my date anyway.” Cami didn’t appear to put much stock in the astrological forecast, but she smiled and took it all in stride anyway.

“Hey,” Sage greeted Joel with a smile and appreciative gaze. “How are things this morning?”

“Fine. We ought to head out.”

“First she has to read mine to me,” Rosemary said around a slice of dry whole-grain toast. She was also a patent unbeliever, but she was kind enough to humor Sage.

Joel managed to hold back an eye roll. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and poured himself some of the orange juice on the counter instead.

“Beware of seafood,” Sage intoned after taking a moment to find the paragraph on the page. “It will bring you much grief. The gods of love are not smiling on you today; stay away from romance.”

Rosemary snorted. “That shouldn’t be hard. I’m surrounded by idiot men.” She popped the last bite of toast in her mouth and washed it down with espresso. Then she noticed Joel and swallowed. “Present company excluded, of course. But I couldn’t handle the way you wear all of your emotions on your sleeve. You’re such an emo. Too bad for me.” She heaved a fake sigh and patted his shoulder as she walked by.

Joel held in a laugh. Of all the ladies, he identified with Rosemary the most—her raised-in-the-hood attitude wasn’t all a put on, regardless of what the others thought, and he could take her teasing. “All right, Sage. Are you ready now?” He snatched up the newspaper and caught the line about staying away from romance in Rosemary’s horoscope. It didn’t say a word about seafood, though. Weird.

“Yes, fine. We can go.” She swallowed the end of her juice and slid from her stool, nabbing her jacket and purse on the way to the front door. “I don’t suppose you’re interested in what your horoscope says?”

“I don’t mind if you want to tell me.” He thought her obsession was actually kind of cute most of the time—part of who she was, like her weird eating choices and dislike of guns. He didn’t have to understand any of them to like her.

“You’ll never get your reward if you don’t reach for it. Today is the day for taking chances.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, then snatched the paper before he could verify her words.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” He put his hand on her elbow.

He thought he heard her sigh as he led her to the car.

When Joel checked Sage’s account that afternoon, he immediately noticed an email from the stalker.  He clicked on the subject line: Other Men

Dearest Sage,

You know how much I love you, and that you’re the center of my world. Why are you spending time with other men? The head of security is not your friend. He wants more from you. I see it in his eyes when he thinks no one’s watching.

You better tell him to get lost. I don’t share. If any other man tries to take what is mine, no one will be happy with the consequences.

Your Future Husband

Joel felt anger burn inside him. How dare this man threaten him or Sage? What was he going to do? And was he watching at the hotel? Had he planted cameras so he could see what was going on, or had Joel been far less circumspect than he had thought?

He wanted to take her away, to stash her somewhere this man would never find her, but she would never agree. He cursed her for being so independent—she thought she wasn’t, that she was weak and useless in this situation, but she was wrong. The fact that she kept pushing on, did her job and refused to back down showed how strong she was. It drove him a little crazy, but he admired it at the same time.

He’d killed plenty of men in the line of duty. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill again if necessary to protect Sage, but he reeled himself back. Hitting the man a few times and seeing him in jail would be better in the long run. At the moment, it was hard to remember though. He touched the pistol he kept in his shoulder holster, then tugged his jacket down to cover it again. 

He deleted the email from her inbox—no way was he going to freak her out with this one, even though he would mention it to her. He grabbed the bug detector and headed back to the spa to do another sweep. And this time he wasn’t going to rely solely on the electronics to find a camera sending a signal. He’d take the place apart if he had to, but this had to stop.

“One of the maids quit yesterday,” Harrison announced at the staff meeting Monday morning. Sage watched him grimace and sneak a look in her direction.

“Already? What’s it been, two weeks since we opened?” Delphi asked.

“That’s unfortunate, but relevant how?” Cami asked. “Turnover is a reality in this business. You know that.”

“Yes, but I’ve never had anyone quit before because they thought the place they worked was haunted,” Harrison clarified. “She claims she was in room 421 and she could hear noises—an angry male swearing in Spanish.”

Sage knew now why he looked at her that way. Unlike most people—which included the rest of the group—she believed in ghosts. Every culture had the tales, so there must be some truth to them. Harrison believe in her precognition, unlike the rest of the people in the room, but he wasn’t as convinced about the other things she believed in.

“That’s probably Luis,” Rosemary suggested. “He was pretty upset about the fish that came in yesterday. He said they were substandard and took a walk to cool off. He was a bear to work with all day.” She leaned back in her seat with a huff. “Temperamental chefs.”

Sage had known there would be a problem with seafood. Rosemary didn’t pay attention, though, did she? She only heard the drivel about love that Sage had added from the newspaper.

“It takes one.” Harrison threw Rosemary a dirty look that finished the phrase,
to know one
. “But no, this was on the other side of the hotel. And she said it was coming from in front of her, like an invisible ghost spoke to her.”

“Exactly what we need; more reports of ghosts. If Ben Ullery hadn’t stirred things up when we were building, this wouldn’t be happening.” Lana pushed the hair back from her face as she talked about a local crackpot who had tried to stop the building from going up by telling everyone the property was cursed. “Fill the position. She was probably looking for an excuse to quit.”

“Agreed. I just thought you deserved a heads up that the rumors weren’t going away.” Harrison clicked his pen closed and slid it into his pocket.

“What if it’s true?” Sage asked. She knew the reception she would receive, but couldn’t let them pass on to the next order of business without pointing out the possibility. “Stories like these are steeped in tradition. It must have started somewhere.”

“Yeah, in someone’s imagination as they sat around the campfire.” Delphi gave her a withering look. “I know you believe in all that woo-woo stuff, and you’re welcome to, but that doesn’t make it true. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”

“All that woo-woo stuff? I’m sure Rosemary didn’t think twice about the one I read her until the fish delivery came in,” Sage reminded her.