Love Handles (Oakland Hills #1)(41)

He liked the way her left eyebrow arched up into her forehead. Mocking but not hateful. He found himself making mental notes about the subtle differences between her and her aunt’s features. “It’s the same thing you want, babe,” he said. “We’re just counting on wanting it more than you. We’ve certainly had more practice.”

“But I have the chance to bring my family together. I have the higher motives.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “And if that were true you would apologize to Ellen. Take whatever she offered.”

“She made that impossible. I was tempted but her terms were . . . counterproductive. Taking all that money would have killed any good will.”

“But taking the company didn’t?”

She rubbed her temples. “There’s still time. In a few months she’ll calm down. I never wanted her to leave like that.”

“I misjudged you at first, but not anymore.” He strode through the house to the front door.

Bev was on his heels. “Just because all you guys care about is power—”

He bent down at the door and checked the lock. “As if you don’t.”

“Me?”

“You’re in this for yourself. Just like the rest of us.”

“Are you saying I don’t want to help my family?”

He straightened and tugged down his shirt, noticing the way her eyes tracked the movement down his body with as much alarm as appreciation. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“After all you’ve seen me do? I could have taken your money—”

“But you didn’t, because I didn’t offer any power. Like your aunt—and me,” he leaned down until he could see flecks of gold in her blue eyes, “—that’s what you crave.”

It had been a wild shot, but it must have struck true. All the anger drained out of her face and she stared at him, blinking and frowning, until she looked away. “Damn it.”

Her look was so stricken he felt a faint pang of remorse. He could have waited until Monday to point out she was no better than the rest of them, though to his credit he never would have suspected she knew so little about herself. Oddly uncomfortable, Liam cleared his throat. “As soon as I leave, make sure you lock all the doors and windows and disconnect the garage door opener. Shove a wrench or something through the tracks. Nobody will be able to get in.”

“You should go now. Your mom is probably getting worried.”

Not if she assumed, rightly, that he’d come over to Bev’s. No doubt she’d already named their future children; he’d have to tell her about the break-in before she started researching neighborhood school test scores. “I’ll check on you before I go back to San Francisco.”

“Please don’t bother. I’ll be fine.”

“My mother must have given you her number, whether you wanted it or not. So you could call her if there’s a problem.”

“Exactly. So you can leave.”

He stayed where he was, looking down at her guarded, unhappy face, missing the way she had flung herself at him. His hands twitched, remembering the feel of her. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

She laughed without smiling. “You can drop the act, Liam. As you said, you’re in this for yourself.” She put her palm in the middle of his back and pushed him onto the front landing. “Just like the rest of us.”



“You were stupid not to call the police,” her mother said an hour later. At home with Bev’s half-sister in Orange County, Gail had the truncated accents of a person laboring on an elliptical training machine. “I suppose you contaminated all the evidence?”

Bev sat on the floor with her back to the front door, one of the mangled pencils in her fingers, thinking about what Liam had said about her motives. It had grown full dark outside but she had on every light in the house, even the tiny bulb over the stove. The vast planes of glass facing the bay reflected the interior back at her, and she felt exposed.

Powerless.

“Mom, this is Oakland. They’ve got their hands full with real crime. They’re not going to go all CSI on a family squabble.”

Gail sighed loudly. “I suppose I’ll have to come up there now. Really, Bev. I wish you could show some backbone.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” she snapped. She took a deep breath. “I’ll be fine. Stay home. You don’t want to come all the way up here.” Having her mother around was the last thing she needed. She’d considered not telling her what had happened, but the house had felt big and exposed, and every year or two Bev had a deluded moment when she thought her mother would make her feel better.

“It certainly would be a hassle,” Gail said. “I’m right in the middle of a cleanse.”

“I’ll have a security system installed.” She thought of the neighbors. “Maybe get a dog.”

“By the way, your cat hasn’t moved since you left.”

“She’s like that.”

“Kate tossed a load of laundry on top of her, and she didn’t do a thing.”

Sadly, Ball wouldn’t be much help defending the house. But Bev missed her terribly. “She’s getting old.”

“Careful, or that’s how you’ll end up. A lump on the couch.”