Keeping Her Close
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His mom had met Owen a couple of times when Kyle had brought him home with him on leave. But that had been years ago; she didn’t know him well. To his knowledge, she hadn’t been aware that Owen had been in a relationship. Kyle didn’t mention the association now because it would be a lot to explain without revealing Harper’s parentage. “Need to know” was ingrained in him right along with his sense of loyalty. Like a lot of habits that had kept him alive in his military career, he doubted he’d ever break that one either.
As it had too often since he’d been here in Pacific Cove, it struck him once again how little his family knew about him. Understandable to a degree, considering the circumstances of his career. The sad part was how little he knew about them. He’d been a terrible son to his mom and an even worse brother to Mia. He hadn’t even come home for Mia and Jay’s wedding. A fresh twist of regret and guilt tightened his chest.
“That’s great news! Isn’t that great news, Mia?” His mom, at least, didn’t seem to hold it against him. She tried so hard to make him feel like he belonged. Too hard, Kyle thought. He didn’t deserve to be forgiven so easily.
Kyle watched Mia in the kitchen beyond pouring a cup of coffee. Ten years in the military, eight of those in Special Forces, numerous life-and-death missions, and his big sister still made him nervous. As kids, they’d never had a great relationship or even a good one for that matter. Now, as an adult, Kyle understood why. Their dad, William Frasier, now deceased, but who they’d only recently learned was not Mia’s biological father, had always favored Kyle. Worse than that, he’d basically ignored Mia.
On an unspoken level, Kyle had known it was unfair, but he’d worshipped his navy officer father, so he’d never questioned his dad’s unequal treatment of his kids. Partially because, painful as it was to admit, he’d been the one to reap the benefits. He regretted that, and especially the wedge it had driven between him and Mia. Kyle wanted to fix it, or at least make it better; he just had no clue how to go about it. He wasn’t sure it was possible.
Mia entered the dining room and sat at the table opposite him. “That is good news,” she said in a tone that told Kyle the words didn’t equate to how she really felt. “Congratulations. But, when you start at Dahlia, you’ll be gone all the time anyway, right? So basically, it will be like you’re still in the navy.”
“Not exactly,” he said, even though his stomach pitched at the truth behind her words. He’d figure out a way to make it work.
“Dangerous assignments where you spend weeks or months overseas,” she intoned wryly. “Yeah, totally different.”
“I’ll be paid a lot more, and I’m out of uniform.” That sounded lame even to him.
“So, you’re doing it for the money?”
Kyle was grateful for the military training that kept him from reacting to his sister’s challenging stare. There didn’t seem to be much they could discuss without disagreeing. “I couldn’t make anything even close to what I’ll be making at Dahlia anywhere around here.” That was another evasion. The truth was that he didn’t really have an answer to Mia’s question, other than he and Owen had planned this for years. From the time Owen had left the military, they’d begun discussing it. They’d wanted to work together again, and maybe someday start their own business. Owen had been gearing up for it already, planning, waiting for Kyle to join him at Dahlia. Irrational as it was, he couldn’t shake the notion that if he’d started at Dahlia sooner, Owen would still be alive. The day before the accident, when he’d called, Owen had once again said how much he wished Kyle was with him. Bottom line, he felt compelled to take the job. Just like he did where Harper was concerned. The obligation, the drive to somehow make this right, was something he couldn’t explain.
He hadn’t realized how much Harper represented unfinished business until he’d seen Dr. Bellaire. The thought had only intensified when he’d met her face-to-face. Now it felt like his duty to make sure she’d be okay, to give her the tools to stay safe. To be happy. From their conversation the night before, Kyle could see she was hurting, no doubt dealing with her own regrets and grief. Fate, in the form of Dr. Bellaire, had given him an opportunity to ease his conscience by helping the love of Owen’s life, and he was going to take it. Owen would want him to. He owed it to him.
Mia was frowning, and Kyle knew she was gearing up to counter his argument. Jay saved him, strolling into the dining room with Duke, his fluffy camel-colored cat, in his arms. Kyle could hear the cat purring from several feet away. Coastie, Jay’s Brittany Spaniel, and constant companion, trotted beside him looking every bit as intelligent and vigilant as Kyle knew her to be.
Jay smiled at Kyle. “Hey, there’s our hero. Just saw the story on the news again this morning.”
Kyle gave his head a shake of bemused exasperation.
“Heard you got the job,” Jay said, and Kyle appreciated that his brother-in-law understood that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Not that he ever had. “Welcome to the civilian life of the gainfully employed.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Sucks for me though—no more free labor.”
“Not exactly free.” Kyle had been filling most of his days by working with Jay on construction jobs. Ironically, he now knew his brother-in-law, whom he’d only met a month ago, better than he did his sister. “I appreciate you guys letting me bunk here.”
Jay waved off the thanks. “I have an old Coast Guard buddy who works for Dahlia. I’ve heard the pay is outstanding.”
Mia let out a quiet sigh.
Kyle nodded at Jay. “It is.”
“What’s outstanding pay?” Lanie, Jay’s sixteen-year-old sister, strolled into the room.
“Kyle’s new job with Dahlia International.” This came from Levi who, enviably, had finished his omelet and moved on to a bowl of fruit.
“What is that, like a florist?” Laney gave Kyle a doubtful frown. “Retiring from the military is one thing. Taking up flower arranging is altogether another. That’s a total waste of your soldiering skills, Uncle Kyle.”
Kyle laughed. Soon after meeting him, Laney had started calling him “Uncle Kyle,” declaring that she’d always wanted a “cool uncle.” Kyle had no idea how he’d passed the cool test with these teens, but he already adored them both.
Levi chuckled and answered, “Dahlia International is not a florist, Lanes. It’s the fourth largest military security and intelligence contractor in the world. Kyle will be working security detail.”
In the short time, Kyle had been in Pacific Cove he’d been continually amazed by Levi’s maturity and intellect. Studious, thoughtful, responsible, he reminded Kyle of Mia when they were growing up. He even wanted to be a veterinarian.
Hands on hips, Laney gave Kyle the stare-down. “So that means you’ll still be in combat-type situations, right?”
Kyle tried not to smile. Laney, on the other hand, was more like him: confident, adventurous, athletic, but also fearless in a way that might border on reckless if not kept in check. She’d quizzed him relentlessly about his life as a SEAL. No matter how much he downplayed combat and tried not to glamorize it, Laney remained fascinated. Just like he’d been by his dad and all things military.
“Not as much,” he answered carefully.
“I still wish you’d teach me how to handle a firearm. Jay’s not comfortable doing it.”
Mia’s frown deepened. Laney’s interest in military life, and with him, seemed to irritate Mia.
Laney often talked about joining the military or law enforcement, with the FBI or CIA as her ultimate goal. Kyle thought with the years of life experience college would bring, she’d be an excellent candidate for the profession.
“That’s because a professional instructor would be best. There are classes you can take.”
“Yes! A class is a great idea.”
Mia went wide-eyed and pinned a glare on Kyle.
Yep, it was entirely possible he’d worn out his welcome. The timing seemed right to get out of Mia’s hair, not to mention that it would be nice to have his own space at Harper’s, even if it was only temporary.
“Hey, Annie Oakley,” Nora said, stepping out of the kitchen and grinning at Laney. “You want pepitas in your omelet?”
And ham. Unlimited access to bacon and ham would also be a bonus.
CHAPTER FOUR
NOT ONLY WAS it not in Kyle’s nature to panic, the navy had honed his tactical response to one of logic and action. Granted, he’d never been in this specific situation before…unable to locate the woman he’d been hired to protect.
After breakfast with his family, he’d collected his stuff, which consisted of a backpack, a duffel bag, a suitcase and a cardboard box. The first two pieces he’d loaded into his vintage, someday-to-be-restored pickup. The remaining items he’d stowed at his mom’s apartment before driving to his new place of employment where he arrived a half hour before the agreed upon meeting time.
Kyle assessed Harper’s house again and approved of the fact that while spacious and well-kept, nothing about the older, two-story beachfront home screamed ostentatious. It was painted an attractive dove gray with frosty-white trim. The large lot provided privacy and plenty of space but not enough to draw undue attention. No one would guess the daughter of a billionaire lived here.
Harper had given him the key to his temporary residence the night before, so he let himself inside the guest cottage next door. With one spacious bedroom, and an open kitchen, dining, living area, the space reminded him of a swanky bungalow at a fancy resort. He was pleased to discover that it was fully stocked with household essentials.
To pass the time, he placed a shortcut to Harper’s cell phone on his home screen and then played with her security app. He made a list of topics to cover with her over the next few days. When 8:37 rolled around with no word from her, an uneasy feeling began to creep over him. He tapped the icon to call her phone; it went straight to voice mail. Five minutes later, he tried again. He left a message and followed that immediately with a text. After an additional five minutes passed without a response, he pulled up the app again and checked the security footage from that morning.
Within seconds, he was watching Harper leave her house via the back door, the time display glowing 6:21 a.m. Why hadn’t she called or texted to let him know she was going somewhere? More to the point, why hadn’t she called or texted to let him know she’d be late for their meeting? Why wasn’t she answering his calls now?
Kyle reviewed the footage carefully, looking for clues as to where she might have gone. The sun hadn’t yet risen, but the deck was lit with well-placed motion lights. A daypack was secured on her shoulders, visible when she turned and paused briefly outside the door, locking it, he assumed. She paused for a moment before turning away from the door, and then hurried toward the set of stairs leading down to the beach where she disappeared from sight.
None of these actions would be causing him much concern if she’d answer her phone. Because if she’d simply gone out for a morning stroll on the beach, why wouldn’t she pick up? He called again, and again it went straight to voice mail.
Internal alarm bells now ringing loudly, Kyle grabbed his sweatshirt and headed out the door. The air was thick with mist. Slipping the garment on while jogging down the steps, he quickly realized he should have worn his rain jacket. At the bottom, he discovered the thick fluffy sand littered with footprints. He could see that most of them appeared to be roughly the same size, suggesting they were Harper’s, but the varying age of the tracks told him this was the accumulation of days and days of excursions onto the beach. Toward the ocean, where the softer sand turned firmer, he could make out a fresh set of prints more distinctly outlined than the rest and heading south.
He followed the tracks. The unmistakable scent of the beach’s many tide-swept offerings drifted around him on the damp air, fish, seaweed and assorted moldering marine detritus. The combination was distinctive and familiar. The son of an ambitious navy officer meant his family had moved often, but they’d never lived far from the ocean. For most of his life, the beach had been his playground and his livelihood.
The wide expanse of sand appeared deserted. Jagged rocks jutted here and there, many the size of cars and larger. With the tide out, each monolith would now harbor tide pools, trapping marine animals and luring hungry seabirds looking for an easy catch. They were also a draw for curious tourists. And the perfect place for some ill-intentioned kidnapper to lurk around and snatch an unsuspecting billionaire’s daughter. Concern gathering rapidly now, Kyle took off running along the wave line, following the tracks.
Minutes into his search, he cursed himself for not bringing binoculars. It was bad enough that his very first morning on the job he’d lost his subject. Being unprepared was inexcusable. In the field, it could get you killed. In this case, it could get Harper killed, and that would be worse.
The mist had turned to drizzle and soaked his sweatshirt through. His blue jeans were already heavy with moisture and sticking to his skin. A swirling haze of light fog rolled in from the ocean, cutting the visibility. Water droplets trickled along his scalp and down the back of his neck. As a SEAL he was no stranger to cold and discomfort, but that didn’t mean he liked it.
Kyle estimated he’d jogged about a mile when the tracks veered off up the beach, ending at a rockier patch above the shoreline. He stopped to check his phone again. Then he turned a full circle before heading east toward the heavily wooded area between the beach and the highway. He decided to continue that way, although he knew she could have traversed the rocks before veering back down to the beach. She could have hiked into the forest. The coastline was littered with caves and rocky outcroppings. She could have ventured into one of those, as well.
Before reaching the tree line, he picked up her tracks again heading north on a distinct trail. As he started to jog, his phone rang in his hand. Harper’s name flashed on the display.
“Harper,” he answered, “where are you?”
“At home,” she said like there was no other place she could possibly be.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she answered hesitantly, sounding almost confused. “I’m fine.”
Kyle exhaled a relieved breath. “I called you. Why didn’t you answer?”
“Yeah…” she drawled, “I just now saw your calls and text. I was on the beach with my phone off. I keep it off when I’m working.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Um, I started doing it because the ringing disturbs wildlife. Even the sound of it on vibrate can startle an animal. A few years ago, I missed a shot of an osprey that still haunts me. Birds are called flighty for a reason,” she quipped. “It’s become a habit.”
That made sense. But they would have to figure out a better system than her turning her phone off. Until then, she needed to not take off without him.
“Where are you?” she asked. “I knocked on your door when I got back. Your pickup is here, but you’re not, are you?”
“I am not.”
“Oh, good.” She sounded relieved and completely clueless about what she’d just put him through. “I thought I was late. Would you like a cup of coffee when you get here? I don’t know if there’s any in the guesthouse.”
“Yes, I would like coffee. Harper, why did you sneak out of your house at six thirty in the morning without telling me where you’re going? Or at least letting me know you’d be late.”
A spark of surprised laughter crackled in his ear. “I didn’t sneak. And I left you a note.”
“A note?”
“I left a note on my door. You didn’t see it?”
A note? Not a good idea. Kyle silently added note writing to his list of topics to cover. “I did not.”
“Ah. That’s why it was still here. I thought you’d come to the door if you got here before I came back.”
A soaking wet, cold, extremely relieved and mildly exasperated Kyle stood in the rain, shaking his head. This really wasn’t her fault. He let out a small sigh. “I would have done that, but I didn’t want to wake you if you were still sleeping.”
“That’s very thoughtful. If I weren’t a photographer, I’d appreciate the gesture, but I’m usually up at the crack of dawn. You know, because of the morning light.”
Morning light. Sure. Unquestionably a learning curve here, for both of them. At this moment, mostly him. Memorizing her schedule would be a good place to start. “Don’t go anywhere else. I’ll be there in ten minutes or less.”
Kyle hung up, hurriedly picked his way across the rocks to the sand and started running in the direction from which he’d come.
ROUGHLY TEN MINUTES LATER, Kyle’s knock coincided with the sound of the back door opening.
“Harper?” he called. “It’s me, Kyle.”
Harper chuckled softly because who else would it be? “In here,” she called from the kitchen.
Kyle stepped into the room looking serious and gloomy, which was a little disappointing. She’d been hoping for the lighthearted guy she’d gotten a glimpse of the evening before.
Sweeping a hand toward the back door where he’d just entered, he said, “The door was unlocked.”
His shoes squeaked on the tile as he moved closer and that’s when she noticed his disheveled state. “You are soaking wet.” She eyed him up and down. “Where have you been?”
“Harper,” he said, ignoring her question, “you need to keep your doors locked at all times.”
“But I was expecting you. Were you on the beach? What were you doing out there with no jacket? Aren’t you cold? Do you need a towel?”
With a deliberate tone he answered, “Yes, I was on the beach. I have no jacket because I left in a hurry. No, I am not cold because I was running while searching for you.”
Opening her mouth to reply, she quickly closed it again as she realized what had just transpired. She breathed out an “Oh.” Then, squelching a chuckle, she added, “I’m sorry. That explains all the calls. I was thinking, wow, he is super impatient to start bodyguarding me.”
He didn’t laugh. But he did take another step closer, and she was able to get her best look yet at those dark brown eyes. Framed with inky black lashes, they weren’t quite as monochromatic as she’d initially thought. You just had to be close to see the subtle swirls of color. A droplet of water trickled down his cheek. She stared at the spot, a bit mesmerized by it, and maybe by him a little, too. Was he so numb he couldn’t feel it? He had to be freezing, and he’d ignored her towel question. A muscle twitched in his jaw. She wondered if he was cold or irritated. Both, she guessed from the tight lines along his face.
“I was worried. I didn’t see your note, which we will circle back to in a moment.”
Worried? A warm feeling radiated outward from her core. Of course, he was worried, Harper, that’s his job now. So why did hearing him say the words give her the feels? Ridiculous. Possibly she’d been living this semi-isolated existence for too long. Probably, she needed to make some friends, too.
“I should have kept my phone on, but I was taking photos and I…” Another drop rolled down his cheek, forming on his chin. She couldn’t take it. Reaching across the counter, she tore a wad of paper towels off the roll, hesitated for half a second before gently dabbing one on the spot and handing them over. “There, that had to be driving you crazy.” She gave him a tentative smile. “I can understand why you were concerned. I should probably tell you that I don’t really like my phone. I’m one of those people who wishes I didn’t have one even as I relish the convenience.” Pulling one shoulder up into a shrug, she added, “It’s hypocritical, I know. Instagram is good for my business.”
Paper towels in hand, he stared back, studying her, his sharp, impossibly dark eyes traveling over her face while his mouth formed a little frown above the sharp angles of his square jaw. Harper imagined that he probably hadn’t needed any other weapon in the military, that expression alone could scare the enemy to death. Fortunately for her, she wasn’t easily intimidated. Her upbringing had been good for that; her father’s work, notoriety and travels, his habit of bringing her along with him everywhere and all over the world, had subjected her to all types of people, including commanding military types like the one standing before her.
“Thank you,” he said softly, before dipping his head to mop his face. Then he looked at her again. “If you turn your phone off, then not only can you not be reached, it can’t be easily tracked if you get lost or hurt. Surely, you know that? Doesn’t it have a do not disturb option?”
“Yes, I do know that. I’ve been living here alone for a few months now, and I guess I’m a little out of practice.” She felt herself wincing. She needed to lay it all out on the line so that he could help her. “No, you know what? That’s not it. To be honest, I’ve never felt like I needed protection. Not personally, I mean. My dad is the one who’s in the spotlight.” She took a step forward. “Growing up, we always had a security system, and I went through the motions, you know so that I could get in the house.” She added a little laugh. He didn’t join in. She sighed. “But I probably didn’t take it as seriously as I should have. And this highly controversial stuff with my dad didn’t start until I was in college. That’s when he got a full-time security detail. During the last few years, I was overseas a lot.”
“I understand that.” He paused to nod, taking a couple of breaths while he was at it. “Let’s consider these lessons one and two.” He held out his thumb to count. “Cell phone on, number one. And number two is a habit you should never ever relinquish. I don’t care who you are. I’d tell my sister the same thing, and she’s not a billionaire’s daughter whose dad was almost assaulted.”
“You have a sister?”
“Yes.”
“Is she—”
“Stay with me here,” he interrupted with an impatient shake of his head. “It doesn’t matter where you are or who you’re with—you keep the door locked. And don’t answer the door if you don’t know who it is like you did for me yesterday, okay? I don’t care if you see the cable guy, the UPS man or a little old lady holding a giant bouquet of flowers.”
“Got it.”
“Not even if Santa Claus is standing out there on your porch do you open that door.”
Nodding, she set her tone to overly serious, “That fat guy can take his bag of gifts somewhere else. What a weirdo.” She swiped a careless hand through the air. “Who wants presents and flowers anyway?”
The chuckle that escaped his lips seemed to surprise him. He shook his head, but his mouth remained curled at the corners like he was fighting a grin. The struggle appeared real, and Harper felt an inordinate amount of satisfaction at causing it.
“I’m serious,” he said, his expression turning stern again.
“I know you are and so am I. Despite my…jokiness, I do want to know this stuff. I understand the value. I appreciate your efforts already, and I’m committed to changing my habits.”
“Good. Then we’re going to talk about your note-writing venture, as well. Why would you leave a note on your door letting everyone know where you are?”
Harper didn’t miss the implication. Holding up a finger, she countered, “I didn’t say where I was, only that I was gone and would be back in time for our meeting.”
“It wouldn’t be difficult to look in the garage and discover that your vehicle is here. Anyone could deduce that you were on the beach, wait here for you and—”
“Except,” Harper interrupted with another finger point, “the security system covers the entire property and would alert me that someone was on my property.” If she only knew how to use that feature, she was sure it would come in real handy. But Kyle didn’t know that she didn’t know.