Playing for Keeps (Heartbreaker Bay #7)(63)

“More that I’m worried for my knees when I return the favor.”

His eyes went molten lava and he kissed her again. When he broke away, she had to look down to make sure she was still dressed.

After what felt like a very long shift at the day spa, she headed to the Canvas Shop. Both Mini Moe and Blue were there, as well as Cal, who was talking to Rocco.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Cal. “I don’t have you on my schedule for today—”

“I know. I’m just on an early dinner break. Listen, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure,” she said. “Come on back with me while I get set up for my first client.”

He leaned back against her counter and started to pull something from his pocket and she pointed at him. “Stop right there. I don’t want to hear anyone having sex.”

He raised his hands. “I know. And I’m still sorry about that. I just . . .” He met her gaze, his own serious now. “I want to show you something. I was in the building the other day and also this morning. I’m interviewing for a job with Hunt Investigations on the second floor. That’s confidential, by the way.”

“Okay. So why are you telling me?”

“Because . . .” He broke off with a grimace and ran a hand over his head. “Shit.”

“What is it, Cal?”

He accessed his photos and thumbed through, showing her two pictures.

Of herself.

One was of her walking through the courtyard with a bag of McDonalds, which meant it’d been taken that morning. The other was of her leaving the Canvas Shop, Lollipop on her leash, and given the clothes she was wearing, had been taken the week before. “I’d call the cops and tell them I have a stalker,” she said dryly. “But you are the cops. What the hell is this?”

He took the phone back and went back to the first pic and zoomed in. There were people in the background, which wasn’t odd because the courtyard was usually full of people. But there was a young woman sitting on a bench, her phone up and facing Sadie.

Then Cal scrolled to the next pic. The same woman was in the background of that one too.

Sadie shook her head in shock. “What the . . . ?”

“You either have a stalker, or you’re being watched for some reason. Want me to—?”

“No,” she said grimly. Because she recognized her so-called stalker, and because she did, emotions were tumbling through her like a category five hurricane. “I’ve got to go. Text me those photos.”

Cal nodded and left her alone. She stood still for a beat, closing her eyes, trying to contain the sudden tsunami of emotions tumbling through her, battering her from the inside out.

Because her stalker was one of Caleb’s sisters. Given that she was extremely pregnant meant it was Kayla, no doubt backed by the others. She felt a blood-boiling temper that her privacy had been violated. This was immediately followed by humiliation, because she should have known. Of course to allow a woman into his life, Caleb would’ve had to have that woman vetted. She might have even thought of it sooner, but Caleb had pretty much locked down her good sense from that very first night when they’d rescued Lollipop. The poor dog was thankfully blissfully unaware that both of her owners were crazy.

Caleb was having her followed.

And probably doing a deep background check as well, which mean she was going to have to face facts. He’d either already learned things about her that she’d never wanted anyone to know, or he was about to learn those things.

Either way, the combo of bad temper and humiliation had her feeling like a cat with her back against the wall, claws out. She texted with her first client, who agreed to move their appointment back an hour, and strode out to the front.

In unison Blue, Mini Moe, and Rocco did a double take at her expression.

“You’ve been here five minutes,” Rocco said. “Who’s pissed in your Cheerios already?”

She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t tell anyone . “Why is that a saying? Because it’s disgusting. I mean, think about it, did someone actually piss in someone’s Cheerios for that to be a thing?”

“Nice deflection,” he said. “I take it you’d like me to mind my own fucking business.”

“Yes,” she said, never having been more grateful for his real friendship than that moment. But even real friendships had limitations. He knew some of how screwed-up she’d been, but he didn’t know all of it—such as how she’d been involuntarily committed by her own parents. And if she had anything to say about it, he’d never know. No one would. “I’ll be back.”

“You look like you’re going to kick someone’s ass.”

“That’s because I am,” she said grimly.

“Need backup?”

She stopped and moved back to him, going up on tiptoes to brush a kiss to his scruffy jaw. “No, but I love you for asking, thanks.”

“Suits screwed up, didn’t he.”

She had to swallow the sudden lump in her throat. Not easy when it was the size of a regulation football. But there were cracks forming in her temper, allowing other, more uncontrolled emotions to squeeze through and she couldn’t have it. Not yet. Not until she dealt with this and could get herself off alone somewhere to lick her wounds.