Page 33 of Capturing You
“She is, very. Her family owns Webb’s Harborside, but she got tired of working for her brother.” Brooklynn was beyond grateful that she’d finally hired someone to help her with the gallery.
Still, she didn’t feel comfortable going very far away, even if someone could take her in. “I could go to a hotel.”
Ford’s lips pressed together. He wasn’t scowling or smirking. He wasn’t smiling, either. After a minute, he shook his head. “They’ll see you leave. Those smugglers searched the house and the property and didn’t find you. As far as I can tell, they’ve moved on. Lenny gave up the search, but he could be staking out the driveway. You’re safe here. If you leave, you’ll put yourself in danger. I see no reason for you to do that. This house is big enough for both of us.”
She was almost ready to agree, then remembered the conversation she’d overheard earlier. “You told Lenny that you’re not allowed to let anyone inside.”
Ah, there was that smirk. “Who’s going to tell on me?”
“I don’t want to get you into trouble.”
“It’s not…Nobody’s trying to killme.”
Kill?
Did he really think those people had wanted to kill her?
Her reaction must’ve been displayed on her face because his eyes flashed, more frustration than sympathy. “Whatever. I’m just saying, you’re safe here. Stay or don’t stay. I don’t care.” He focused on the paperwork on the desk.
Leaving her to sit there, stymied.
If she stayed, it might get him in trouble, and it was obvious that she was the last thing he wanted to deal with. Even so, he was sacrificing his own preferences to keep her safe.
“That’s so sweet of you.”
He didn’t even bother to shoot her a glare.
“You’re really quite wonderful, aren’t you, under all that anger.”
“Do you mind? I’m trying to work.” But she was pretty sure she caught the tiniest smile fighting to break through his facade.
It seemed her grouchy friend was a lot like this old mansion. A little rough on the outside, but filled with beauty. And secrets.
The thought of staying, of ferreting out some of the house’s mysteries—and the man’s—had her fingers tingling with anticipation.
Not that she had time for that.
She needed to get back to work. Between the gallery, the contest, and the Shadow Cove Old Home Days festival, she had a million things to do.
But as long as she was stuck in the Ballentine Mansion, she might as well enjoy herself.
She swiveled and left the office, taking his phone with her. She just needed to make arrangements, and then this could work.
As long as nobody figured out where she was staying—not those scary smugglers and not Lenny—then she’d be safe.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Forbes didn’t protest when Brooklynn left him alone in the office, even after he realized she’d taken his phone.
He didn’t need it. He was elbow-deep in his father’s old files, desperately looking for some clue as to what Dad had been up to before that terrible night.
It was evening by the time he heard a soft knock. His stomach was growling, his eyes crossing, thanks to all the dull real estate information he’d been perusing.
He looked up to see his unwanted guest standing in the doorway. She still wore his joggers and Patriots T-shirt, looking very comfortable—and far too attractive—in the oversized clothes. She’d braided her hair, which hung over one shoulder. And she was smiling as though all were right with the world.
Maybe she was, as Grandmother would say,touched.
Crazy. Nuttier than a Payday.
