Everything Changes Read online

  Colin found her eyes. She knew she flashed a huge warning for him to shut up, but he was ignoring her.

  “So, this is the stalker?”

  Her eyes rolled back and she turned to Dameon. “I didn’t call you that. Erin did.”

  Dameon looked at her, his lips holding the slightest grin. “Who’s Erin?”

  “A friend,” she told him.

  “Our brother’s girlfriend. Who has had her share of stalkers and is pretty good at identifying the like,” Colin said.

  Grace swiveled so hard she nearly lost her balance. Two strides and she was in her brother’s face. “This macho big brother trip was cute when I was sixteen. Now knock it off! Dameon and I are here going over plans for his project. I’m doing my job.”

  “That’s not what it looked—”

  She lifted her foot and slammed it on her brother’s toes.

  “Oh, damn, Gracie, that hurt.” Colin limped back a step.

  “Be happy it wasn’t your balls.” She stood as tall as she could. Which wasn’t much, in light of the fact she was wearing tennis shoes and not heels. “Now . . . thank you for your concern, but kindly shut the hell up.”

  Colin grunted and put one more dagger in his look at Dameon.

  “Next time keep your phone with you,” he told her.

  She really couldn’t hold that against him. “Next time, knock.”

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Dameon spoke from behind her. “I’m sorry we met under these circumstances.”

  She wanted to melt into a puddle and seep into the carpet just to escape the awkwardness of the moment.

  “I’m glad to have a face with the name,” Colin said.

  Grace lifted a fist in Colin’s direction and he retreated. “Goodbye, Colin.”

  She watched as he walked through the rain and climbed into his truck. After he backed out of the driveway, she released a sigh.

  “That was, hands down, the most entertaining encounter I’ve had in at least a decade,” Dameon said, laughing.

  Thank God he was laughing. She wanted to crawl into a corner and die. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Is your family Italian?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No, I’m not. But no one has claimed it.” She finally dared a look in his direction. Even with the fading light, she saw his grin.

  “So, you told Erin about me.”

  “You’re going to make this more awkward, aren’t you.”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m going to hold on to that fact and let it settle for a while.”

  “Good.”

  “You wanna tell me what Colin was talking about when he mentioned this last year?”

  “It’s really not my story to tell and edges on gossip.” Not to mention it was still raw for her.

  “Considering your brother wanted to yank my hand out of my arm, I’d like to know the context of his concern.”

  She reminded herself that Dameon was first and foremost a client. And aside from the fact that he had nearly kissed her . . . and she’d nearly let him, he did have some right to know a few things.

  “Erin was getting a divorce from her abusive ex. Went so far as to change her name and identity to get away from him.” Grace glanced up and saw Dameon’s smile fade. “He did in fact stalk her, found her, and nearly killed her.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Erin was living in the guesthouse on Parker’s property. Parker and Colin are the ones who just got married. Colin was home then, but by the time they knew what was happening it was too dangerous for him to go in.”

  “What happened?”

  “Erin managed to get ahold of the gun he used against her. She survived. He didn’t.”

  And before Grace even knew of the drama, Erin’s ex had manipulated his way into Grace’s life. It still made her sick every time she pictured the man. He’d kissed her. In fact, he was the last man who had kissed her.

  “Are you okay?” Dameon stepped forward.

  “It wasn’t that long ago. We’re all still raw. Colin’s a good guy. He’s just protective.”

  Dameon walked back toward the kitchen. “Rightfully so.”

  He tugged his coat on and retrieved the plans. “You sure I can’t talk you into dinner?”

  “Dameon . . .”

  “Next time.”

  “Dameon . . . this isn’t . . . we shouldn’t—”

  He opened the door and placed a hand on her back. “But we both know we almost did,” he said close to her ear.

  Traffic leaving the Santa Clarita Valley wasn’t nearly as bad as the cars moving in the other direction. It still it took him over an hour to get to his condo and drop his wallet and keys on his kitchen counter.

  Dameon could not stop thinking about Grace. She was a hundred percent different from the women he usually pursued.

  She was so damn smart and witty. The need to laugh when in her presence was constant. The scene between her and her brother played like a boomerang video in his head.

  And she’d told her friend about him.

  When women told their friends about a man, that man was being thought about. Which was exactly what he wanted when it came to Grace.

  He crossed to his liquor cabinet and decided he wasn’t in the mood to drink alone.

  It was past time he had a night with the guys.

  Omar picked up on the second ring. “Please don’t tell me you’re calling because we have problems.”

  Dameon laughed. “I need that night at the bar. You in?”

  “You buying?”

  “O’Doul’s in thirty minutes?”

  “Be there in twenty.” Omar hung up and Dameon jumped in the shower.

  Twenty-five minutes later he waved at Omar from the doorway of the busy Irish pub. Christmas lights twinkled above the bar, and Irish music drifted in between the noise of the people. With dark wood and salty patrons, O’Doul’s was the kind of place no one who wanted to be seen went to. It was a simple place with decent beer on tap and lots of Irish whiskey.

  He greeted the bartender by name and moved to the empty stool next to Omar. “I see you started without me.”

  “I wasn’t sure if this was a beer night or shots.”

  He pulled his jacket from his shoulders and placed it with Omar’s. “Let’s start with beer.”

  Omar signaled the bartender, asking for another.

  “So, what prompted this impromptu night out?”

  Dameon took his seat. “There’s a woman.”

  “And two shots of Jameson, Tommy,” Omar added.

  Dameon had to laugh.

  “I knew there had to be a girl involved. Who is she and why haven’t I heard of her before now?” Omar cut right to the chase.

  “Her name is Grace and she’s an engineer with the city of Santa Clarita.”

  Omar stopped his beer midway to his lips. “That’s why you’re going out there all the time. I knew there had to be a better reason than you micromanaging the team.”

  Tommy gave Dameon his beer and brought over two shot glasses and filled them. “Throw some fish and chips in for me, will ya, Tommy?” Dameon asked.

  “Make it two,” Omar added.

  “Settling in for a long haul, are ya?”

  “There’s a girl,” Omar said.

  Tommy O’Doul was somewhere in his sixties and had owned the pub since it opened thirty years past. “Is this a celebration shot, or am I leaving the bottle so you can forget her?” he asked.

  “Celebration shot,” Dameon told him.

  Omar’s hand darted out and stopped Tommy from taking the bottle. “But you can leave the bottle since Dameon is buying.”

  “What do you think this is, a date?”

  “You did call and ask me out,” Omar said with a laugh.

  Tommy waved them off, left the bottle, and walked away to put in their food order.

  “Okay, keep talking. Yo
u obviously have things to say.”

  “Have you ever met someone you just can’t stop thinking about?” Dameon asked before taking the first drink of his beer.

  “Yeah. Then I sleep with them and forget their name.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Which is why you are the first person I thought of when I wanted to come here tonight. I knew you weren’t busy.”

  “I’m busy when I want to be,” Omar defended himself.

  “Grace is different. She’s like this tight ball of confidence and humor. She’s trying so hard to deny our attraction.”

  “Wait, what? Someone is denying the great Dameon Locke?”

  “Yes . . . no, not really. She thinks it’s wrong since I’m working with the city right now. Conflict of interest.”

  Omar rested an elbow on the bar and tipped his glass Dameon’s way. “She has a point. A conflict for her, not you. You said she was an engineer?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Not to sound sexist, but that’s odd, isn’t it? Most of the engineers we’ve dealt with are men. Stoic, humorless men.”

  When Dameon took a second to think on it, Omar was right. “Analytical personalities. Comes with the job, I guess.”

  “But not your Grace?”

  “No . . . I mean, yes . . . analytical when she’s talking about her job and the project. Her mind is going a mile a minute. Like a ticker tape rolling constantly.” Dameon tipped his beer back. “But funny.”

  “And hot, I’m guessing.”

  The memory of tilting her head back, and the heat in her eyes. “Yeah. Not like Lena.” He’d dated Lena off and on for about a year. “Petite, curvy . . . has a girl-next-door thing going.”

  “That doesn’t sound like your type at all.”

  “Yeah,” he huffed. “She has a job.”

  They both laughed, and Tommy stopped by and dropped off silverware.

  “I have two problems, though,” Dameon said.

  “Other than the fact that her boss might hold it against her if she’s seen messing with a client?”

  “Okay, three problems.”

  Omar pushed the shot glass Dameon’s way. “Problems require whiskey.”

  How could he argue with that? They saluted each other and knocked the liquor back. The back of his throat warmed all the way to his stomach.

  “The first is her brother.” Dameon reenacted the scene at the house from the door barging open to the big brother’s handshake and unmistakable instant dislike. “The other issue is her friend thinks I’m a stalker.”

  “How did that happen?” Omar asked.

  “I’ve been trying to figure that out. I saw Grace at the hotel. But we didn’t talk then. The next morning, she walks into the coffee shop, hungover, and I approach her. Monday morning, she walks into the city office and . . .” He stopped. “I did call her from her Facebook page.”

  Omar nearly spit out his beer. “You what?”

  Now that Dameon said it aloud, he realized how the facts stacked up against him. “Holy shit, no wonder her friend thinks I’m stalking her.”

  Tommy pushed a hot plate in front of both of them and looked at the bottle of whiskey. “You boys nursing this, or are you drinkin’?”

  Omar put a finger in the air, signaling another round.

  Tommy winked, poured, and walked off.

  “First . . . stop using Facebook.”

  “I figured that out.” It had felt genius at the time.

  “You need to make good with the brother. And in my experience, if the girlfriends don’t like you, you’re running uphill the whole time.” Omar popped a fry in his mouth, picked up another.

  “The girlfriend is dating her other brother.”

  Omar picked up the second shot. “The whole fam damily is hating on you. You’ve got some ass kissing to do if you want in with this lady.”

  Dameon reached for the shot. “Do you know how long it’s been since I needed to have anyone approve?” He was pretty sure it was high school and a sixteen-year-old’s father was involved.

  “. . . or you can call Lena.”

  Just thinking of that put a bad taste in his mouth that a bite of his dinner didn’t repel. “I’ll start with the brother.”

  Dameon was formulating a way to do just that as he took the second shot Omar was offering.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Grace was back in Dameon’s house.

  Rain fell on the roof like the march of a wartime drum. Nothing natural about it.

  His back was to her, but her belly warmed in anticipation of him turning around.

  She wanted his kiss even if she shouldn’t. And in here . . . in a dream she knew was a dream but could taste the scent of him, she could let Dameon hold her.

  Grace placed a hand to his back, and the lights flickered.

  He didn’t move.

  Cold bled through his coat.

  He turned, suddenly, and Desmond’s hand was on her throat.

  Grace woke with a start, her hands reached for her neck. “Not Dameon.”

  Desmond Brandt, better known as Erin’s ex, resurfaced in Grace’s dreams.

  She rolled out of bed and walked to the bathroom. A flick of a switch and bright light attacked her eyeballs. Grace ran a hand over her neck, still felt his fingers lingering there.

  “Stupid,” she called her reflection in the mirror. She’d been stupid to ignore his obvious lies. All because he was good-looking and worldly. Even the memory of him kissing her, something she wished she could erase from her hard drive, brought the feeling of his fingers on her neck.

  Then Miah, a beat cop she’d known since high school, and his partner showed up. They were on a routine walk at the far end of the mall. They spotted her with Desmond and everything in his demeanor had changed. He must have felt exposed or nervous. He made a hasty retreat, and the next day Grace learned who he really was. A week later, the man was dead and Erin was in the ICU.

  And it could have been her.

  She could have been the dead one.

  The investigation that followed Desmond’s death found pictures of her and Parker with the words first and second written over the images. The police had been reluctant to tell her the findings, but when they did, it was her father who’d sat down with her and explained what they meant.

  “He was a sociopath, Gracie. And if he’d gotten you alone, there’s no telling what he would have done.”

  “Why are you telling me this now?”

  Her dad squeezed her hand, and rare tears hovered in his eyes. “Because I can’t lose you. You have to be more careful. You’re too old for me to ground so you’re not seeing the juvenile-hall-bound punk in school anymore.”

  Grace ran cold water in the sink and shocked her system by saturating a washcloth and rubbing it over her face. She was being more careful all right. To the point of avoiding men in the romantic sense completely.

  Until now.

  Back in her room she noticed the time.

  Three in the morning.

  She walked the short hall to the living room and turned on a dim light in the kitchen.

  After pouring herself a glass of milk, something her mother always did when she had trouble sleeping, Grace sat on the sofa and pulled a blanket over her lap.

  Dameon and Desmond, their names almost identical, but that was where the similarities ended.

  Two weeks following the night he died, Grace starting having nightmares. More memories of what had really happened than the one that woke her up tonight.

  Having grown up with two older brothers, she’d learned to stand up for herself. Prided herself on being able to pick the bad ones out of the bunch. With Desmond, she never saw it coming. He’d casually approached her while sitting in a bar. She thought she was waiting on a Match date that never showed up. Later, when the police had finished their investigation, she’d been informed that he had created the entire setup using a fake profile. He knew where she was going to be, and knew she was never going to meet her “chosen date.”
<
br />   She’d deleted every dating app she had been on and didn’t look twice at men who tried to pick her up in a bar. She’d sworn off the gender altogether.

  Grace closed her eyes and tried to squeeze the whole memory from her brain.

  Maybe Erin was right about him. Maybe that was why she’d suddenly started having the nightmares again. Maybe Dameon wasn’t as innocent as he claimed to be.

  Or maybe her memories of Desmond were screwing with her because she was attracted to someone for the first time in nearly six months.

  It was Sunday, and Grace joined Parker, Colin, Erin, and Matt on their annual walk through Santa Clarita’s version of Santa Claus Lane. The homes were decked out in every conceivable Christmas decor, with lights streaming across the street to each other’s houses. There were Grinch themes and Disney motifs, fake snow, and trees that appeared to explode out of rooftops. The air was crisp with the scent of a recent rain that simply added to the whole experience.

  She knew the minute she walked up to the group that someone was going to mention Colin’s run-in with Dameon. If there was one thing her family was notoriously bad about, it was keeping anything to themselves.

  To everyone’s credit, it took nearly five minutes of hellos and cheek kisses before the first word was uttered. They stood in a circle while Erin pulled on a scarf from the back seat of her car.

  “What’s this I heard about a compromising position between you and a client in an abandoned house?” The question was from Matt.

  The silence that followed gave Grace everything she needed to know. Everyone had already talked about it.

  “Thanks, Colin,” she said.

  He smiled as if he’d proudly accomplished a mighty task. “I’m pretty sure it was you who told each of us to step in if we ever saw you dating someone who wasn’t right.”

  “Was I a part of that conversation?” Erin asked, closing the door of the car.

  “No. It was in the hospital waiting room when you were in the ICU,” Parker told Erin.

  Grace had said those exact words as she was deleting the dating apps on her phone. Her entire family, including her mom and dad, had been there, too.

  “First of all, Dameon and I aren’t dating. And second—”

  “I know what I saw,” Colin interrupted her.