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Beauregard “Beau” Harden. This was the nice young man Fiona had mentioned? The one who’d just returned to town?
Wow! The shy boy had grown into a gorgeous man. He was taller than she remembered, but he possessed the same thick pale waves and green eyes. Once warm, those stunning irises now appeared ice cold. A scar bisected one of his brows.
“Hello Jane,” he said, a little gruff. Not quite the soft, eager voice she recalled from school.
He remembered her. How wonderful. “Hello, Beau. It’s so nice to see you again.”
“You called about security.” He rocked back on his heels. “I thought I’d visit rather than call.”
“I’m so glad you did.” Beau had joined the navy right after commencement, leaving Aurelian Hills in his rear-view, but she’d never forgotten him. As children, the tow-headed kid had always offered her encouragement. He’d eaten every lunch at her side, and he’d never abandoned her on the playground, even when other kids teased him about being buried alive by the Cemetery Girl.
When no one had asked her to dance during their senior graduation party, he’d taken her in his arms and swayed. Jane had never forgotten his kindness.
He lifted a brow. “You going to invite me in?”
“Oh! Yes, yes, of course. Please, come in, Beau,” she said, stepping aside.
He wiped his boots on the welcome mat and entered the cottage far too small for his broad shoulders.
“Have a seat anywhere you’d like.” Wait. “Where are my manners? Are you thirsty?” She hurried to the kitchen before he could respond and poured two sweet teas. Rolex watched from the table. By the time she returned to the living room, Beau had chosen the recliner next to the couch.
Rolex followed her and jumped on his lap, gazing with adoration, as if he wanted Beau to pet him. A total psych-out. As soon as her childhood friend reached, Rolex hissed, scratched and darted off. His signature move. Two round punctures topped two bleeding lines on Beau’s hand, set in a zigzag pattern.
He winced but didn’t complain or even tense, making Jane beam as she handed over his drink, then settled across from him.
He eyed her with unwavering focus. “Tell me what you need from me.”
No more pleasantries? No catching up? No warmth? Forget the Mack Truck; he was an iceberg.
Was he married? Did he have children? So many of their classmates did. Or was he single?
Good gracious. Fiona was the one who’d given Jane the card. Which meant she had set this up as a re-meet cute. Meet cute on repeat?
Reeling, she placed her glass on the coffee table and patted her lap twice. Rolex jumped up and glared at Beau. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but there was a disturbance out here a few nights ago. A murder. When the agent from the GBH realized I didn’t have any security cameras, or any form of security at all, he suggested I contact a professional immediately.”
“You have no security whatsoever?” Beau scanned the room, as if cataloging millions of access points available to every criminal in town. And out. Concern etched his harsh features. “He was right.”
He? He who? “Here’s the thing. My budget is very limited.” Understatement of the year. She lived on the cemetery’s trust.
He didn’t miss a beat. He simply nodded, as if her lack of funds were no big deal. “I’m sure we can work something out. I’ll feel better knowing you have protection out here.”
Similar to what Conrad had said. Er, Special Agent Ryan. Or better yet, Agent Spice. Had anyone ever smelled so good? “What do you suggest I get?”
Leaning toward her, he braced his elbows on his knees. The scent of pine and soap wafted to her nose. And something else. A softer note she couldn’t quite place. She frowned. A flower of some sort? So different from Conrad but just as pleasant.
“You need a better lock on the front door,” he said. “Also, a motion detector near every window. To start.”
The air seeped from her lungs. “Anything else?” she squeaked. He might as well have listed the moon. No way she could afford that stuff, even if they “worked something out.” Whatever that meant.
“I’ll need to inspect the grounds to get a better idea.”
Of course, he would. “Let me grab a hat, and I’ll show you around.”
Finally, his expression softened, a hint of his old smile teasing his mouth. “You still collect hats?”
“Everyone needs a hobby,” she said, standing with Rolex in her arms.
“Did you ever find the perfect fit?”
“Not yet. But it’s only a matter of time.” She winked and strolled off with a lighter step than before. “Rolex, my love,” she muttered, setting him down inside her bedroom. “My friend is back in town, and he’s here to help us. Things are looking up. Surely!”
Chapter Four
Samuel Lee
