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“What’s he doing now?” Cora had no idea Rob was bothering Suzette. When she got back to the station, she was going to hunt him down, and they were going to have words.
“He texts me every day to saygood morning,” Suzette said, wrinkling her nose. “And he sent flowers to my work. Three times.” She leaned forward like she was about to impart something outrageous. “Just. Because.”
Cora blinked in surprise. “That’s...bad?”
“Of course it is!” Suzette looked at Cora like she was crazy. “Think about it. We’ve known him for years. Rob Hopper is a total player. He flits from one relationship to the next without blinking. Common knowledge, right?”
Cora nodded, because it was kind of true. Rob went through women like they were delectable morsels of chocolate in a box of Godiva. He plucked them up, savored them for a short time, then moved on to choose another.
“So, if Rob was texting me every night to ask what I was wearing,” Suzette continued, “that would be typical. If he sent me red roses with sexy notes, or those flowers made from lace panties you can buy at the Gas n’ Go cash register? That would all make sense. I’d expect something like that from him, and I could easily ignore it. He’s always been over the top, laying on the charm and the innuendos. No subterfuge with that one.” She glared into her diet soda, stabbing the ice cubes with her straw. “But instead, he sends me these cheerful bouquets of peonies and lilies—very tasteful and sweet, like something I’d choose for myself—with notes saying he hopes I’m having a good day. I mean, what the hell?”
Cora opened her mouth to speak, but Suzette cut her off, adding, “Oh, and last Thursday, I ran into him at the grocery store. It started pouring down rain outside, and he walked me all the way to my car with his umbrella so I wouldn’t get wet. It’s like he’s been body snatched, and some well-mannered gentleman alien took his place.”
Cora began to smile. “It sounds like he’s actually trying to be friends.”
“Well, it’s weirding me out,” Suzette said grumpily. “The flowers. The kind messages. And then he pulls that umbrella stunt? I’m telling you, Cora, it’s not normal. Rob Hopper does not do ‘sweet and thoughtful.’” She poked at her half-eaten turkey burger, then pushed the plate away. “All I can figure is he’s trying to play the long con. But it won’t work. I’m not falling for any of his shenanigans. Fool me once, and all that.”
“What if he’s not playing?” Cora asked. “He seemed pretty remorseful when he talked to me at the station after your failed date. I think he might really like you, Suze. That’s a first for Rob. I’ve never seen him so worked up about someone.”
Suzette looked surprised and a little vulnerable, but she quickly shrugged it off. “The important thing here is, these men are acting shifty. We need to arm ourselves, so we don’t get played.” She opened her purse and began digging around until she pulled out a compact mirror and lipstick. She expertly applied her signature shade of Candy Apple Red to her lips, before blotting with a napkin. After checking the results, she dropped the items back in her purse with a satisfied nod. “There. Now I’m ready for anything.”
“That’s your armor?” Cora grinned around her milkshake straw. “Makeup?”
“Flawless war paint is a woman’s first line of defense,” Suzette said, batting her sooty lashes. “Same goes for a killer outfit and accessories. It’s like our secret ammunition. That’s not to say there’s anything wrong with a bare-faced girl who can kick back with a beer in jeans and a T-shirt. That’s all fine and good, and guys love that natural vibe. But when a woman really needs toslay? It helps to bring out the big guns.” She gave her best megawatt smile and held her palms out like a showgirl.
Cora chuckled, suddenly regretting her hastily applied lip balm and mascara this morning. Maybe Suzette had a point. “So, what should I do about Liam?”
“Absolutely nothing. Last night was a fluke. You and Liam will be spending almost all your waking hours together, and he’s a hot-blooded male who looks at you like he’s starving and you’re a triple deluxe cheeseburger with all the fixings. I’ve seen it. He can say whatever he wants, but it’s clear he wants you.”
“I wouldn’t go that—”
“Trust me,” Suzette insisted. “I’m not sure what’s going on in his head right now, but it doesn’t matter. He’s a guy, and you, my dearest friend, are a complete goddess. You’re brilliant, beautiful, kind. The whole package—No, don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m totally serious. He won’t be able to resist you for long. I’d give him another week—ten days, tops—before he caves. Just you watch.”
Cora hoped her friend was right, but the thing between her and Liam was a lot more complicated than just physical attraction or casual affection. Ever since they’d met, there was an undeniable pull between them that she couldn’t deny, no matter how hard she’d tried. He was like a cyclone that came spinning into her life, stirring up all sorts of emotions, and she’d given up trying to fight against it. She’d always been levelheaded and logical, especially when it came to her dating relationships, but the way she felt about Liam was different. There was no explanation for the mysterious dreams she had about him, the strange moments of déjà vu she experienced sometimes when they were together, or the way he often spoke to her as if he’d known her forever. She felt like every path she chose from here on out was destined to lead toward him. It was almost as if the universe was trying to tell her something, and she finally wanted to listen. The question was, did he?
5
MAGNUS BLACKWELL’S HOUSE was tucked at the end of a quiet street with trees so lush and tall their branches formed cathedral-like arches overhead. In the daylight, Liam could imagine the neighborhood’s custom homes, meticulously manicured lawns, and fancy European cars sparkling like jewels in the dappled sunlight, but on a night like tonight, the place seemed shrouded in gloom. Most of the houses were modestly sized for their exorbitant prices, but according to Cora, their close proximity to fine restaurants, a bustling bar district, and high-end shopping boutiques made it a prime spot for the wealthy and “respectable” members of society.
“Except for Magnus, of course,” Cora said dryly from the driver’s seat of her car. They were parked across the street from his house, hidden beneath low-hanging branches and a burned-out streetlight. “Nothing respectable about him.”
Liam yanked a red licorice rope from the bag of snacks on the center console. “A low-life reprobate like Magnus doesn’t deserve to live in a mud pit, let alone a place like this.” But he wasn’t surprised. In his limited experience, wealth didn’t always equate to respectability and integrity. Aside from Squire McLeod, most of the wealthy men Liam had encountered were too enamored with their own sense of entitlement to bother with pesky things like that.
“He’s still not moving,” Liam said in growing aggravation. For the third time in as many minutes, he lifted the pair of binoculars Finn had acquired, peering through the large window at the front of the house. The curtains were wide open, leaving a clear view of the open floor plan. There was a dining area to the left, a kitchen beyond that, and a hallway leading toward the back of the house. The largest space was the living room, where Magnus was now stretched on his sofa, talking on the phone and occasionally flipping through TV channels. “He’s just lying there like a lazy, flea-bitten mongrel.”
“Patience.” Cora calmly snapped open a can of soda and took a sip.
“I’ve none left to spare,” Liam said with a growl. If they didn’t find some action soon, he was going to go mad. “We’ve been sitting here for almost three hours watching him do nothing.”
“Exactly,” Cora said in amusement. “Most stakeouts are long, drawn-out exercises in boredom. What did you expect, an action-packed adventure like they show on TV?”
“No, of course not.” Yes. A bit. He loved those action shows. There were always stakeouts and gunfights and important clues to be found. The best usually ended in an epic car chase, followed by someone walking away from an explosion in slow motion. While he hadn’t expected they’d be lucky enough for one of those scenarios, he’d certainly expected more than this. “Magnus could at least walk around and give ussomesort of action,” Liam grumbled. “A slow shamble toward the kitchen would be thrilling at this point.”
He lowered the binoculars and bit forcefully into his licorice stick, grinding the waxy, strawberry-flavored candy between his teeth. He’d brought two grocery bags filled with snacks, and even stocked a small cooler in the back with cans of soda. If Cora hadn’t put her foot down, he would’ve added beer, but she said they needed to stay sharp and couldn’t risk falling asleep. Not that it mattered, Liam thought in annoyance. He was about to pass out from boredom, anyway.
“Maybe Magnus is making plans to meet with his accomplice right now,” Finn offered from the back seat. “He’s been on that phone for a while.” Of course Finn would say something hopeful. Liam had been champing at the bit for the past two hours, but Finn was just sitting quietly back there, watching Magnus’s house with calm, intense focus. As much as Liam had grown to respect Finn over the past few months, sometimes the man’s unending well of patience got on his nerves. Liam was a man of action. He needed todosomething already.
“He’s moving,” Cora said suddenly.
