Page 37 of Breaking Free

As she searched, a shadow fell over her. Tristan had entered silently and now stood beside her, wearing exam gloves and holding a Ziploc bag.

“This is freaking me out,” she exclaimed needlessly, her trembling hands betraying her fear.

“I know, but try to hold it together,” he replied, not grumbling or snapping for the first time since she’d known him. He nodded at her hands, still in the drawer, and gently urged, “The other letter.”

“Right.” She resumed her sifting, finally locating it near the bottom. What it contained would explain a lot. When she was hesitant handing it to him, he slid it from her fingers.

As he scanned the page, a muscle jumped in his jaw. Then his eyes, no longer appearing black but returning to their usual hard, steely blue-gray, bored into her. The room seemed to grow smaller, the walls closing in as the tension and what she suspected was a healthy dose of anger rolled off him in waves.

“You thought I wrote this.” It was an accusation, not a question.

Averting her gaze, she nodded, her cheeks burning. “You were at the pool party and commented about my skirt being too tight only a few days before. You were the obvious suspect.”

“Look at me, Piper.” He waited to speak until her eyes met his. “I’m not the kind of man who writes anonymous letters. If I have something to say, I’ll say it to your face.”

“Yeah. I figured that,” she allowed, barely above a whisper.

He grunted noncommittally and laid the letters side by side on her counter. After he snapped a picture of each with his phone, he sealed them in the zippered plastic bag.

“Take these with you to the precinct tomorrow. If the cops follow up, they’ll want to see them.”

“And dust for prints?”

“Possibly.”

Uninvited, he moved through her place, testing windows, doors, and locks.

“What are you doing?”

“Security check.”

Despite his size, his footsteps barely sounded on the stairs as he climbed to the second floor to continue his inspection. Piper didn’t follow. Still on edge, she needed space to breathe and calm her frazzled nerves.

“The sliding door needs a security bar,” he remarked when he returned to her minutes later. “And the chain on the front door isn’t worth two cents. The dead bolt will slow a would-be intruder down but won’t stop a well-placed boot if he’s determined to get inside. You need a metal security door, like the wrought iron one on 113, and an alarm system,” he advised. “I’ll take care of both tomorrow.”

“I couldn’t ask you to—”

“You didn’t. I offered.”

Piper felt a wave of gratitude wash over her as she looked up at Tristan, his protective stance giving her a sense of safety she hadn’t felt in a long time.

He offered his hand with his calloused palm facing up. She hesitated briefly. Its size was impressive, easily double hers. Piper laid her hand on his, instantly sensing the warmth and power radiating from his grip.

“A key, Piper,” he clarified. “I’ll need one unless you plan on staying home all day.”

She quickly pulled her hand away, her cheeks burning hotter. “I have two closings and will be gone most of the day, actually,” she murmured, reaching into a different drawer for a spare key.

Avoiding skin-to-skin contact, she dropped the key into his palm, watching his strong fingers curl around it. Being in his presence brought up feelings she didn’t want to contemplate, including memories of his touch and his kiss. Also, that he was firmly against being with her in any way other than as a neighbor, and now, as a PI and her unexpected guardian.

Tristan was reserved, and decidedly grumpy, her polar opposite. And despite all that, she wanted to be so much more than neighborly or a case he needed to crack.

“I thought you were an actress.”

Startled out of her thoughts, she shook her head. “I’m a wannabe actress. To pay the bills, I’ve been doing mortgage closings as a notary.”

“Which explains the skirt and blouse.”

“Yes, although that’s about to change. I’m about to sign a contract for a six-episode TV series. It’s my first big role.” She turned to open the fridge. “I planned to celebrate with a glass of wine. Now, I need one to calm my nerves. Can I pour you some?”

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