It Had to Be You

Ali’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?” she asked in a tone that would have had Luke changing course pronto.

But Zach apparently wasn’t versed in the Don’t Go There Department. “You know,” he said. “When you say someone has a great personality, it means that they’re…not hot.”

“Wow.” Ali shook her head. “And here I thought you were better than the rest of your gender.” She shrugged. “Your loss, because Leah’s totally hot.”

“Yeah? How hot?”

“Forget it, you’ve ruined it.”

“Aw, man.” Zach wasn’t in a suit today. Instead he wore skinny-cut, black jeans, an equally tight-to-his-scrawny-chest black button down, and a bright pink tie that matched a few pink streaks in his dark, spiked hair. He still looked twelve. He eyed the omelet Ali was cooking, licking his lips like he was starving.

Ali flipped it onto a plate, pushed it to Zach, and then turned to the door as Luke let himself in.

“Hey,” she said. “Yours is next.”

Zach stuffed a big bite into his mouth as he eyed Luke. “You don’t knock, you just walk in?”

Luke looked at Ali, letting her field this one.

Ali sighed, and she flipped the next omelet. “Luke’s living here too, Zach.”

“Your mom didn’t mention that. She just said he’d given you a place to stay.”

“It’s not what you think,” Ali said.

“No?” Zach asked. “Because what I think is that you’re too kind for your own good, and someone”—he glanced at Luke so as to leave no doubt who the “someone” was—“could take advantage of you.”

“First of all, I’m not all that kind,” Ali corrected. “And second, Luke is the kind one, letting me stay.”

Not feeling particularly kind, Luke strode across the kitchen. He’d intended to shower. Instead, he parked himself on a barstool, sprawling his long legs out, making himself at home in his own place.

Ali gave him a look that he wasn’t quite sure how to interpret. Annoyance, definitely. Maybe even some affection too.

He could match her on both. But he found himself oddly out-of-sorts at the vibe between her and Zach—which made no f**king sense. They were obviously very fond of each other. And just as obviously, they were old friends with the same level of comfort that he and Jack and Ben had. He didn’t read any sexual tension between them.

Not that it mattered. Because it didn’t.

What did matter was Zach’s ability to defend Ali, if it came to that. And Luke wasn’t at all sure the kid—who, granted, seemed sharp and eager to get this right—could handle the case.

Zach was scrolling through the notes he’d made on his iPad the day before. “So is there anything else you can think of that I need to know?”

“Yes,” Ali said. “I talked to Edward this morning. He gets up early because once a week he enjoys driving the seniors to the early morning buffet at a casino in Tacoma.”

More like he enjoyed the early morning Texas hold ’em table, Luke thought.

“The ground-breaking ceremony for the new rec center is scheduled for next weekend,” she said. “The mayor himself donated fifty grand to make up for the missing funds.”

“Wow,” Zach said with a low whistle, “I’d like to run the mayor’s financials to see where that money came from.”

“It came out of his retirement account and is supposedly legit,” Ali said. “Edward had some other interesting news too. He said that Mr. Wykowski was also in Teddy’s office the night of the auction. Mr. Wykowski didn’t say anything, because he was hiding from Lucille and her posse, who were chasing him. Mr. Wykowski says that it’s rough being eighty-two and single, because the women that go to the center outnumber the men two to one.”

Zach snorted orange juice out his nose. “Dammit.”

“And Mr. Lyons was in the hallway too, using that bathroom,” Ali said. “Because the main bathroom…um, smelled like something died in there.” She flipped Luke’s omelet. “And then later, Mrs. Burland ended up in the office too. Says she got lost trying to find the coat room. She needs cataract surgery, but hasn’t saved up the eight grand yet, which takes her off the suspect list because she can’t see past her own nose. Plus she threw out her back last week trying to keep up with Lucille and can’t even carry a purse. So it’s unlikely she stole anything, except possibly someone’s coat that she mistook for hers.”

“None of that came out in the police report,” Luke said.

Ali shrugged. “Probably no one thought to ask your grandpa.”

“I spent summers here,” Luke said with a shake of his head. “And I’m still blown away at how he knows everyone else’s business.”

“Oh, he knows yours too,” Ali said.

This gave him pause. “What did he say about me?”

“That I shouldn’t trust the man who once blew up all the Town Hall toilets.”

“Hey, I was just a kid,” Luke said, in his defense, over Zach’s choked laugh. “And anyway, that was all Jack and Ben’s doing. Mostly Ben’s to be honest. He was good at blowing shit up.”

Ali smiled. “He said you’d say that.”

Luke shook his head. “What else?” he asked, as she transferred the omelet from pan to plate and handed it to him. He dug in, and flavor exploded in his mouth in a harmony of deliciousness. He hadn’t realized how starved he was, and he closed his eyes to enjoy it. When he opened them again, Ali was looking at him.

“You know something else?” she asked.

“No.” He stuffed another big bite in his mouth rather than tell her that, yes, he knew something else—her ex was a serious dick.

“If you know something that will help,” Zach said, “you need to tell us.”

Luke set down his fork and gave Zach a look that had the lawyer pulling back just a little bit. Brave but not stupid. Good to know. “The only thing I’ve got is what we all already know—there are more women in Marshall’s life. I think whoever else was in his office the night of the auction is the key to this whole thing.”

“We’ll find her,” Zach said, sounding far more sure of himself than Luke would have thought possible, considering the guy looked like he’d walked off an ’80s punk rock poster. “Ali, did you see anything interesting in his office the next day?”

“No. I was only there for a minute both times. The first visit, I just grabbed the pencil pot. The second time, I…” She broke off and nibbled on her lower lip.

“What?” Zach pressed.

“I guess I was still pissed about what I’d heard the night before and—”

“Tell me again,” Zach said, “what you heard.”

She shuddered. “Teddy in the throes.”

Zach grimaced. “Other than that.”

Luke took in Ali’s expression. She wasn’t sad, she was pissed, and he was glad. Marshall didn’t deserve a piece of her heart.

Neither do you…

“Anyway,” Ali said. “I set his things on his desk.”

“I read the police report, Ali, that’s not all you did,” Zach said.

She winced. “So I left him a sticky note telling him what he could do with his text breakup, where to stick it, how to stick it…that sort of thing. Big deal.”

Luke already knew this, but he felt the pride fill his chest again. “Nicely done, by the way.”

She shifted, looking embarrassed. “I threatened him. The police frown on that.”

“You could plead temporary insanity,” Luke said, wanting to lighten the mood.

Ali rolled her eyes, but looked far less vulnerable, and Luke nearly smiled because damn, she didn’t need her ceramic lion or the owl. She had guts and brains in spades.

It’d been a long time since he’d ached to be with a woman for more than what they could give each other in bed. This was the problem with Ali, she made him ache. There was just something about her that drew him in, leaving him defenseless against her.

Not good.

“How bad is that note?” Ali asked Zach. “Bad? Or bad bad?”

“Bad isn’t the right word,” Zach said. “Let’s go with…a little difficult.”

She just looked at him. “You don’t want me to freak out about writing that I was going to do something to him, and then something happened.”

“I don’t want you to worry,” Zach said, and once again Luke felt his reluctant respect for the guy increase.

Zach glanced at the time and rose. “Gotta get to work.” He turned to Luke. “If you learn anything else…” He pushed his business card toward him. “I’m all ears.” He gave Ali a kiss on the cheek and sent Luke a long, unmistakable look that said I’m watching you as he moved to the door. “Stay in touch, Al.”

Luke walked him outside.

At the end of the driveway, Zach faced him, eyes cool, smile gone. “Not that I have to defend myself to you, but I can handle whatever happens here.”

“You sure?” Luke asked. “Because you need to be f**king sure. She trusts you.”

“She should trust me. I’ve known her since grade school. And you’ve known her for what, five minutes?”

Luke had to give the puppy props. He had sharp teeth.

“Are you sleeping with her?” Zach asked.

“None of your business.”

“She’s my friend and my client. She’s very much my business. And she’s watching us right now, so try to look like you don’t necessarily plan on kicking my ass.”

Luke turned and glanced at the window, indeed finding Ali watching them. He lifted a hand in greeting.

She narrowed her eyes.

Zach smiled and waved at her, then turned his back to the house to slide Luke a measuring look. “Don’t even think about climbing into her bed,” he said. “She’s way too vulnerable for the likes of you right now.”

Having been told the same thing by Jack, Edward, and his own conscience, Luke felt himself getting pissed off. “I’ll worry about me. You worry about the case.”

“Fine. But I’ll be watching you,” Zach said.

“Yeah? Right back at ya.”

Chapter 13

Luke waited until Zach drove off before turning to the house.

Ali was gone from the window.

The place stood as it always had, a little bit quirky, a lot worn, but steady as his grandma had been.

His home away from home for just about all his life.

His grandma had worked hard for many years, but in that last year, she’d finally retired. Her hobby had been painting, and she’d used the garage as a studio. Luke had loved it there, the scents of the oil paint and his grandma’s candles, the huge beanbag chair that had been his to crawl into and watch her work. The cookies she’d always had out…

Shaking his head at the memories, he punched in the code for the garage door and watched it open, blinking in surprise.

Because there was Ali, paintbrush in hand.

Clearly seeing something in his expression, she put down the brush. There was a table between them, a work table. She made no move to go around it, leaving him to assume she needed the barrier.

He got that. He needed a barrier from her too. He just didn’t know what the hell kind of barrier could possibly stand between her and his damn heart, since she was making dust of the walls he’d had in place by just breathing. It was her sweet courage, and the capacity she had for caring about everyone and everything. It was the way she kissed him, as if she was desperately clinging to the fleeting pleasure before it vanished. It was the fierceness with which she protected his privacy. It was her smile.

It was everything about her.

“It’s going to be okay, you know,” she said.

“Your life, you mean?” he asked.

“And yours.”

For months, he’d been operating deep in negativity and bad shit. There’d been no light at the end of the tunnel. His glass was half empty. No silver lining…

Not Ali. Her world had fallen apart too, and yet she looked at things completely differently. It wasn’t that she wore rose-colored glasses. No one who’d grown up as tough and fast as she had could wear rose-colored glasses. She simply chose not to live in the dark.

He admired and respected the hell out of that. He looked at the table and saw that she’d been painting a small ceramic bowl shaped like a canoe.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, gesturing to the table and her work. “We need a new key bowl.” Since she’d chucked the other one at his head…He smiled at the memory.

“My grandma painted in here too.” He looked to the other side of the garage, where Fay’s shelves still stood. He could almost see her, standing in front of her easel, the sun slanting in the window, casting her in a glow as she created magic out of a blank canvas. “I used to sit at her feet and watch.” He pointed to the sheet-covered beanbag chair. “I even gave it a shot myself when she bugged me about it.”

“Were you any good?”

“Not even a little bit.” He lifted a shoulder, surprised to feel warm at the memories, not regretful.

She came around the table. “So you lived here with her?”

“During the summers,” he said. “All my life, until she died.”

Her smile faded. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.” He stared at the garage wall. “She shouldn’t have died like she did.”