Until You Page 3

  That didn’t sound like a man who’d come here to harm her. Did it?

  Before she could decide, two police officers stepped onto her front porch and rang her doorbell.

  Chapter Two

  As the sound of the doorbell faded, Gavin leveled a look at her. “Don’t leave me without a choice, Anna. I don’t want to turn him in, but I’m not going to let you get me arrested, either.”

  When Anna merely stood there staring at him, trying to decide what to do, he stepped past her and opened the door. With a rueful smile, he pushed open the storm door. “I told her she hung up too late, that you’d come anyway.”

  “Is there a problem?” one officer asked.

  Anna stepped up beside Gavin.

  “Ms. Collins.”

  “Officer Wilkins.”

  “Oh, ho,” Gavin laughed. “I didn’t realize you were on a last-name basis with the local police.”

  Anna spared him a glare.

  “And you are?” Officer Wilkins asked.

  Gavin stuck out his hand. “Gavin Marshall. I have to take the blame for Anna dialing 9-1-1.”

  “How’s that?”

  Gavin’s grin was so sheepish, Anna ground her teeth. “Her brother and I traded vehicles and I’m meeting him here to trade back. Since I have Ben’s keys, I let myself in while she was out. When she walked in, she thought I was a burglar. She’d already dialed 9-1-1 before I could explain.”

  The policeman pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow at Anna. “Is that so?”

  Anna had to hand it to Gavin. He had told the literal truth. And he’d given the police his name. That had to mean he had no plans to harm her, for if anything happened to her they’d know who to look for.

  Of course, by then she’d be dead or raped or mangled or whatever, but they would know who to look for.

  Don’t be a ninny. The man’s had plenty of time to do you harm if he’d wanted to. He’s been here all night and you slept like a baby. If he was here to hurt you, he could have killed you in your sleep.

  A comforting thought, being killed in her sleep. Still, he had certainly had the opportunity. Instead he’d chosen to sleep. It wasn’t her he was after, it was Ben.

  She gave Officer Wilkins a hesitant nod. “I wasn’t expecting him. I’m sorry you had to come over here for nothing.”

  Officer Wilkins visibly relaxed. “No problem. We just wanted to make sure everything was all right. How is your brother doing these days? Is he staying out of trouble?”

  Anna fought to keep from bristling. Just because the neighbors had called the police on Ben a time or two, Wilkins didn’t have to make it sound as though her brother were constantly in trouble. And Gavin didn’t have to wear such an irritatingly blank look on his face, as if he were trying to keep from gloating. “Ben’s fine,” she said tersely.

  As the officers turned to go, Wilkins paused and looked back at Anna’s unwanted houseguest. “You’re riding his Harley?”

  “It’s in the garage.”

  “For the sake of your traffic record, I hope you don’t tear up the streets with it the way young Collins does when he hits town. There’s not a cop around who doesn’t know that bike.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Officer.”

  “You do that.”

  When the officers reached their car, Anna closed the front door.

  Gavin touched her arm. “Thank you.”

  Anna scowled and shook off his touch. “For what, being a wuss?”

  He laughed. “You’re no wuss, Anna Collins, and I’ve got the bruises on my shins to prove it.”

  “If you expect me to apologize for that, do me a favor and hold your breath while you wait.”

  He laughed again. “I don’t expect an apology. In your place I would have done the same thing. Why don’t you let me make it up to you by taking you out to breakfast?”

  Anna had been about to walk away, but she paused. She had always been taught that everyone had a price. It was to her shame that hers was a free meal cooked by someone else. She had learned that back in the days after her parents’ deaths, when she had worked two, sometimes three jobs to keep the wolves away from the door. A free meal back then had been a godsend. Sometimes it meant the difference between eating, or going hungry.

  Twelve years later she was still counting her pennies, but she could afford to feed herself. Still, the thought of a free meal out was a temptation she was loathe to refuse.

  “Aha,” Gavin said. “I think I just found the key to your heart.”

  “You should be so lucky.”

  Not me, Gavin thought. Some other man would surely win the heart of Anna Collins someday, but it wouldn’t be Gavin Marshall.

  Not that there was anything wrong with her.

  Well, not much, anyway, except that she was her brother’s enabler. That aside, she was smart, courageous, stubborn. Yeah, he even liked that stubbornness. And she damn sure wasn’t hard on the eyes, either. She stood about five-four, maybe a hundred and twenty pounds. Maybe less. Her hair was the color of raw honey. It just teased the line of her jaw and framed her oval face perfectly, highlighting a pair of gray eyes wide enough for a man to drown in and be glad when he went down for the third time.

  Yeah, some man was going to be damn lucky when he found the key to her heart.

  Gavin, on the other hand, was not looking for that kind of luck. He liked his life just the way it was, liked being able to come and go as he pleased without worrying about what anyone else might think or need. Footloose and freewheeling, that was him. He liked his women like he liked his vacations—exciting, adventurous and temporary.

  Anna Collins was not the temporary type. She had home and hearth, commitment and permanence written all over her.

  No, sir, not for him. He didn’t want the key to her heart.

  “Okay,” he said with a grin. “Maybe a breakfast out is the key to your forgiveness for my barging in on you. I’ll even let you wear the helmet.”

  Her eyes widened. “And why,” she said slowly, “would I need a helmet in my own car?”

  “Uh-uh. I said I was taking you. That means the Harley.”

  For Anna, it was no contest. A free meal was not worth it. “I’ll cook.”

  “What’s this? I thought you wanted to go out.”

  She turned away and headed for the kitchen. “Not if it means riding that growling beast.”

  “You don’t like riding the Harley?” he said, astounded.

  Anna bristled. “I hate to disappoint you, but I also don’t like baseball or hot dogs. To my credit, I do love apple pie, and I fly the American flag on all the appropriate holidays. How does bacon and eggs sound?”

  Anna carefully added another strip of bacon to the skillet. It occurred to her, as she called herself every kind of fool for cooking breakfast for a man she didn’t want in her house, that she was no longer afraid of Gavin Marshall. He’d had ample opportunity to harm her, rob her, or anything else he might have wanted to do.

  Instead he’d done nothing but talk to her. He’d even gone to the door and let the police see him. He’d given them his name.

  Okay, so maybe he wasn’t here to murder her. She still didn’t want him in her house. She didn’t want him lying in wait to catch Ben unawares. Although if Gavin was telling the truth, it was nothing more than Ben deserved.

  Ben, what am I supposed to do with this man?

  The only thing she knew to do was to try to get him to leave before Ben came. Then she could talk to Ben and find out just what the devil he thought he was doing.

  She added the final slice of bacon to the skillet, then reached for the bread box. They would have toast.

  Yes, she wanted Gavin Marshall out of her house.

  After preparing the bread for the toaster oven, she cracked four—better make that six—eggs into a bowl and added grated cheddar. The thought of having slept the entire night while a strange man sprawled on her couch unnerved her.

  A few minutes later she set everything on
the table. Still trying to figure out a way to convince Gavin to leave, she sat and started filling her plate.

  She needn’t have worried about not calling him to the table. He joined her immediately and took his seat. “Damn, this looks great. Like something my mother would fix me.”

  “And do you have a mother, Mr. Marshall?”

  “I have a jewel of a mother. And my name is Gavin.”

  “I wonder what your mother would say if she knew you’d forced your way into a woman’s home and refused to leave, Mr. Marshall.”

  “I’m sure she’d have a nice, long lecture for me. Got any salt, sugar?” .

  “My name,” she said tightly, “is Anna Collins. You may call me Ms. Collins. The salt is in the cabinet to the right of the stove, Mr. Marshall. What’s her phone number?”

  He rose and went into the kitchen. Anna refused to watch him. She heard the cabinet door open and close. Then the refrigerator.

  Make yourself at home, she thought, jamming a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth.

  “Whose phone number?” He returned to the table with the salt and pepper shakers and a jar of her homemade strawberry preserves. “Mom’s?”

  “Unless, of course, they don’t let her receive calls.”

  In the process of ladling strawberry preserves onto a piece of toast, he looked up and frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean, ‘they don’t let her receive calls’?”

  Anna gave him a mock smile. “From what little I know of you, I can only assume that the poor woman who raised you is either in a mental institution, or in prison.”

  The man chuckled. “You’re mean, Anna Collins. I like that. But I have to disappoint you. Mom’s more normal than any person I know.”

  “But you’re not going to give me her phone number.”

  But he did give her the phone number. Or a phone number, she thought. As fast as he rattled it off, and noting no doubt that she had nothing with which to write it down, he probably assumed the number would do her no good. But numbers were Anna’s thing. They imprinted themselves onto her brain like newsprint on Silly Putty. She remembered the license number of the old car her parents had driven, the phone number at their house in Lawton before they’d moved to the Oklahoma City area right after Ben was born, and the number of her father’s safe-deposit box she’d found after her parents’ death. The empty safe-deposit box. She figured she could manage to remember a phone number long enough to stand up and dial the phone.

  When she finished eating a few silent moments later, she carried her dishes to the sink, rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. Then she reached for the phone and punched in the number he’d given her.

  “Change your mind about the police?”

  Listening to the phone ring at the other end of the line, Anna bit back a smile at the look of apprehension on Gavin Marshall’s face.

  “Hello?” said a woman on the other end of the line.

  Anna gripped the receiver in her suddenly damp palm. “I’m calling for Mrs. Marshall.”

  Gavin paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth, his eyes wide with surprise.

  “You’ve found me,” came the pleasant voice on the other end of the phone.

  “Mrs. Marshall, my name is Anna Collins. There’s a man in my house who says he’s your son.”

  “Uh-oh.” Mrs. Marshall chuckled. “Why do I get the impression that you’re not calling to thank me for that?”

  Anna couldn’t help but smile. “I’m merely trying to ascertain that he is who he says he is.”

  On the other end of the line, Mrs. Marshall gave a good-natured groan. “It must be Gavin. John and Michael, bless their hearts, have never caused me a moment’s concern. What’s he done this time?”

  “Nothing serious.” Oddly, Anna felt compelled to reassure the woman. “Would you mind describing him?”

  “Describing him? You mean you don’t know— Never mind. Let’s see. He’s six feet tall, dark brown hair, although if he’s been swimming lately it’s probably streaked. Big blue eyes that’ll melt your heart. Unless, of course, he’s excited or angry. Then they get all wild-looking and make you think he’s depraved,” she added with a laugh.

  Involuntarily, Anna looked up from winding the phone cord around her finger and ran smack into those big blue eyes. They most assuredly did not melt her heart. How ridiculous. If her heart was pounding, it was because a stranger had barged into her home. The slight shiver that raced down her backbone was, if not quite fear, then trepidation. Certainly not because of a pair of big blue eyes.

  As for depraved...yes. That, she could see.

  “And a smile that’ll take your breath away.” A mother’s love came through clearly across the line.

  Anna’s gaze, without her permission, dropped to his mouth. His smiling mouth. Her breath hitched in her chest. Trepidation. Only that.

  “Does that sound like him?”

  Anna jerked her gaze from him and turned toward the wall where the phone was mounted. “Uh, more or less. Thank you. I hope I haven’t disturbed you.”

  “Of course you haven’t, dear. Gavin is all right, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. Yes, he’s fine.” It only then dawned on Anna that she might have alarmed the poor woman. “Would you like to speak with him?”

  “Very much. But wait. Did you say your name was Anna Collins?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “From...oh, where did he say...Oklahoma, that’s it. Are you by any chance from Oklahoma?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am, but how—”

  “You must be Ben’s sister,” the woman exclaimed with delight. “This is a pleasant surprise indeed.”

  Anna’s heart fluttered. “You know Ben?”

  “Oh, my, yes. Let’s see...he came up here once a few months ago with Gavin. Yes, I remember now, that was the second time we met him. The first time was last summer when we went to visit Gavin for a week. Ben was so nice and polite.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it.”

  Mrs. Marshall chuckled. “And I’m relieved to hear that Gavin finally decided to pay you a visit. I’ve heard him say several times that he wanted to meet Ben’s sister.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, it is. And I want to thank you for calling me. I’m glad to know where he is. He doesn’t call often enough to suit me.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t. Hold on just a minute and I’ll put him on.” Anna held the phone out to Gavin.

  Whatever doubts Anna might have still harbored that Gavin was a good friend of Ben’s had just been dispelled by Mrs. Marshall.

  “Hey, Mom, how ya doin’? ...No, no, it’s nothing like that. I came looking for Ben and just sort of took her by surprise, that’s all. How’s Dad? ...Hey, all right! Way to go, Dad. You tell him I said so. And tell Uncle Mick he owes me twenty bucks... Of course I did.”

  It occurred to Anna as she listened to Gavin talk with his mother that she was being rude to eavesdrop so blatantly. Not that he wasn’t being rude to invade her home, friend of Ben’s or not, but Gavin’s rudeness did not excuse hers. While he finished his conversation, she started cleaning the kitchen.

  What a strange man, she thought. He sounded so ordinary when talking to his mother. Just like a regular person, with a mother and father and uncle. Not like an intruder. Not like a man who forced his presence on a woman, right in her own home.

  Maybe he was more like Ben than he wanted to admit. Hadn’t she just heard him say that he’d won money from his own uncle?

  “How about that,” he said when he hung up the phone. “Dad finally beat Uncle Mick at golf.”

  “And you gambled on it, I gather.”

  “Damn right I did. Uncle Mick’s been beating Dad for years. He bragged that even if Dad took lessons from a pro, he’d still beat him. So Dad went out and took lessons and I told Uncle Mick to put his money where his mouth was.”

  He said it all with such good humor that Anna knew she’d been right. He was a great deal like Ben. Any
one who could laugh about gambling... At least Ben hadn’t laughed about it. Not in front of her, anyway. Not like Daddy use to.

  Now she had to add swearing to Gavin Marshall’s list of shortcomings. Intruder, gambler, curser, slob—her living room was still strewn with his belongings.

  “What does that look mean?” he asked.

  Anna took her rubber gloves from beneath the sink and started putting them on. “What look?”

  “That pursed-lip look you’re wearing. Reminds me of my third grade teacher when she caught me chewing gum in class.”

  Anna refused to dignify such a comment by answering. She also refused, in a moment of decision, to let this man disrupt her life. Perhaps she couldn’t physically force him to leave her house, but if she ignored him, maybe he would get bored and leave on his own.

  She did her best. Saturday was housecleaning and laundry day. She tackled her chores and completely ignored Gavin Marshall.

  Well, as completely as she could. She found it impossible to totally ignore a stranger in her living room.

  While she was scrubbing the bathtub, she heard the television come on. When she carried the bathroom cleaning supplies back to the kitchen—just why did she keep them beneath the kitchen sink instead of in the bathroom, which was the only place they were used?—she noticed he’d tuned in a baseball game.

  It figured. Nothing educational or uplifting for him. He probably read comic books. If he read anything at all.

  Shortly after one, she was on her second load of laundry and had done everything but run the vacuum. She took a break for lunch and made herself a tuna sandwich.

  Within thirty seconds of taking the lid off the plastic bowl that held her tuna, egg and mayonnaise mixture, Gavin appeared at her elbow and sniffed.

  He must have the nose of a bloodhound, she thought with disgust.

  “Got enough of that for two?”

  “Sorry.” Of course, she had plenty, but she deliberately spread the layer of tuna twice as thick as usual and used it all up on her single sandwich while he watched with a pitiful, hangdog expression. “I only keep enough food in the house for one.”

  He shrugged and smiled. “Makes sense to me, since there’s only one of you. I’ll just run out and grab something.”