Unthinkable Games (LIttlemoon Investigations Book 3) Read online

  He could feel it.

  She went up on her toes and dropped a kiss to his cheek. “I’m going to shower, and then try to sleep. You should do the same.”

  His fingers went to the spot on his cheek where her lips had been. The flesh burned from the contact. It helped chase the chill that was filling him.

  “Sweet dreams, Beck,” she offered, closing the door behind her.

  Suddenly, he wanted to bang on it and beg her to keep him company. It was silly, but he was terrified of that room and what waited for him.

  Reaching deep for some courage, he headed toward the door. Once it was open, he was hit with wave after wave of dread. It overwhelmed him, nearly bringing him to his knees.

  Yeah, something bad had happened here.

  He could feel it.

  Instead of making a hasty retreat, like his gut was demanding, he stepped inside. Closing the door, he stared at the giant four poster bed.

  Beckett didn’t have to move any closer to know the truth.

  Someone had died in there. There was so much pain and bad energy inundating him.

  While he wanted to make a break for it, he knew the truth. Beckett Rand was trapped. He couldn’t leave, and he couldn’t stay.

  It looked like his night was about to get hellish.

  And that wasn’t an exaggeration.

  God, he was so screwed.

  ~ Chapter Seven ~

  Saturday Night

  Tori couldn’t sleep. She was too amped up and in the mood to do some work. This case was giving her some major adrenaline rushes.

  How could it not?

  If they solved this, Littlemoon Investigations would solidify its place among the big dogs in the PI world. There was nothing more in life that she wanted than to make her husband’s dreams come true.

  Apparently, her husband wasn’t experiencing the same rush. Just by looking at him, Tori could see the truth.

  Julian, from the look of exhaustion on his face, was feeling the long hours.

  “Hey, are you okay?” she asked.

  Glancing over, he was amazed. He was pretty sure that pregnancy was supposed to wear a person down, but not his Tori. She was tapping a pen as she scanned the map on her lap.

  It looked like sleep was out of the question.

  “Yeah, I’m hanging in there. What do you have?” he asked, rolling over. Despite being tired, he’d give her his entire focus. After all, they were on a giant bed. Maybe he could lull her to sleep with some gentle kisses.

  “This map is a mess. I can tell it’s off just from the walk through we did. It looks like Marshall Salvatore did more work than we originally thought. There are walls that shouldn’t be where they are, and doorways that are suspiciously missing.

  “Okay, and you think that we’re going to have to bust through them?”

  She grinned. “Yeah, we’re going to have to. It’s going to be the only way. Bring on the demo!”

  He placed his hand on her leg, trying to get her to focus on the reality of their situation. “Victoria, our clients plan on selling this place in a month. We can’t take it to the ground,” he stated.

  Glancing over, Tori shrugged. “They hired us to find their brother, and they lied to us. So, I’m not feeling real sympathetic to their bitching and moaning.”

  Yeah, neither was he, but still...

  “I hate hidden passageways,” Julian stated.

  Tori saw there was more in his eyes than just disdain. “What else is eating away at you, babe?” she asked.

  He loved how his wife knew him so well. It was nice to have someone connect with him on a level where he didn’t have to explain everything.

  “Beckett Rand.”

  She knew why he was worked up. “You set him up.”

  Julian nodded. “I really believed that he’d spill it. I’m disappointed in him.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Here, we have a case where there will be artifacts. If he can read them, like he did Bethany’s skull, that could help us. Yet, you shared your secret, and he didn’t. I think I misjudged him.”

  Tori patted his cheek. “Jules, you can’t judge him on this. What he’s carrying may cut far deeper than what I’m dealing with. We don’t know when he obtained this gift, if he can control it, or whether or not he can share it. This might be something so personal, that he’s not ready to trust us with it. Really, he hasn’t worked with us for all that long. Give him a chance to prove himself. I have faith in him.”

  She was right.

  He couldn’t expect the man to spill it.

  “If he hurts my sister…”

  Tori couldn’t help but laugh. Underneath it all, she was sure that was what was really bugging the hell out of Julian. He was more worried about Claire than their case.

  “She won’t get hurt. Your sister is tough and knows what she’s doing. The day she came in to visit us, she wasn’t planning on leaving the Navy. She was about to reenlist, and then she saw him. You have to let fate drive this one.”

  “So, love at first sight?”

  “I think that you Littlemoons fall hard when it comes to the opposite sex. God knows that you dogged every one of my steps until you broke me down. I didn’t want to love you, but you made me.”

  He grinned wickedly. “I thought it was my body that finally lured you in.”

  She scanned down his torso and appreciatively took in all of the sexy Native she owned, heart and soul. Her husband, in a pair of boxers, was a thing of beauty.

  “Yeah, well, that was definitely part of it.”

  Julian pulled her down for a kiss. When they broke apart, he was ready to occupy the rest of their night rolling around naked in bed, if his wife was game.

  Tori pulled away. “There happens to be a very large claw foot tub in the bathroom. I do believe it will fit both of us for a bubble bath if I get on top,” she offered.

  His wife had suggested one of his favorite things.

  “Want to get soapy with me?” she offered. “Maybe, if you’re a good PI, I’ll let you play ‘find Tori’s buried treasure’,” she teased.

  “Hell yeah!” he replied, chasing after her as she raced for the bathroom. That was one of his favorite games.

  When the door closed, Julian made his move.

  Slippery wife was a sexy thing.

  * * *

  Later Saturday Night

  From his spot on the large chair, Beckett could listen to the silence of the entire house. It appeared that not a creature was stirring, and that didn’t sit well with him. For the last two hours, he’d hoped that someone would rescue him.

  Mainly Claire.

  He could see her in his mind, wandering around that big bedroom in nothing more than her birthday suit and those sexy pink panties. Seeing them tonight was going to make his evening even more difficult.

  Not only was Beckett scared to touch the large bed, for fear of the nightmares it would drag him into, he was thinking about a woman he couldn’t have.

  Fate really hated his freaking guts.

  When had life become purgatory for him?

  Oh yeah, the day he killed his brother.

  Getting up, he began pacing like a caged tiger. The last thing he wanted was to close his eyes in that room. It screamed of a horror movie waiting to happen, and he’d seen enough that he knew that the first one asleep was the one to die. Beckett had more self-preservation than that.

  Or so he liked to think he did.

  When he stopped pacing to scrub his hand over his face in frustration, he heard it.

  The cop in him went on alert.

  Moving closer to the door, he cautiously placed his ear close to it. There was the sound again.

  Someone was leaving Claire’s bedroom.

  A million thoughts raced through his mind. Fortunately for him, the house had very old door knobs, and they had keyholes you could see through.

  Peeking out, he saw her leaving.

  She wasn’t in a dress any longer, but dark jea
ns and a t-shirt. In fact, she looked like a sexy cat burglar heading out to do all sorts of bad things.

  God, he wanted to go with her in the worst way.

  Then again, if she wanted his company, Claire would have come knocking. So, he had to assume this was a solo mission she was sneaking out for.

  Well, he wouldn’t let her.

  Beckett was curious by nature, and that meant he wanted to know where she was going. After all, Julian had told him to stick close and babysit her.

  He told himself that following was his duty, but he knew it was so much more. All those sick feelings welled up in him. Since his heart and soul had been battered once before by a cheating woman, he immediately went there.

  Yes, they weren’t a couple, but he wanted to trust her.

  Sneaking out in the middle of the night wasn’t the way to do it. Had she come to him, maybe he wouldn’t be so over the top. Yes, this was all her fault, or so he told himself.

  Using the hem of his shirt, Beckett opened the door, careful not to touch the knob with bare flesh. He didn’t want to risk the visions, especially with Claire wandering around at night. There would be no one to save him.

  Stalking silently down the hall, he braced himself at the top of the stairs to watch her.

  As she headed toward the front door, Beckett’s eyes narrowed with distrust. She wasn’t just going downstairs for a midnight snack.

  She was leaving.

  His heart began pounding in his chest as he thought back to the kisses they shared. Did they mean nothing?

  Were they simply a way to get him to comply to her whims? Heaven knew he was accustomed to that in his marriage.

  He was conditioned to mistrust and be wary.

  Now Claire was leaving the house to go who knew where.

  Was she meeting someone? Where else could she be going at this time of night?

  Beckett wanted to be sick.

  All the crazy thoughts flooded his mind, gripping him in a wave of jealous insanity. Here was his proof that she couldn’t be trusted.

  She was sneaking out.

  Beckett struggled to regain control. He knew that he was acting like an asshole, but he was helpless to stop it.

  Something came over him, and he was feeling territorial. It was new to him, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

  Follow her!

  That was his plan.

  Slipping silently down the stairs, he headed toward the door. He could hear the engine of their rental turning over as the headlights flipped on. Staring out the window, he watched Claire Littlemoon escape into the night.

  He was sick.

  She was out there alone.

  Beckett was torn. Should he warn Julian, or give the woman time to return. He wasn’t her keeper, but he felt like he should be.

  Common sense finally prevailed.

  He’d wait her out.

  Then, he’d find out what the hell she was doing, creeping out this late at night.

  Mistrust was building because of her actions. He’d been burned before, but it wasn’t happening again.

  In the morning, there would be hell to pay.

  Claire Littlemoon didn’t stand a chance.

  * * *

  Sunday Morning

  To say that it was a restless night would be an understatement. Claire had very little sleep once she returned to the house after her ‘mission’. As she had been resting in bed, planning the next day’s events, something occurred to her.

  Beckett.

  For hours, he had flickered through her mind, but then she realized the cold hard facts.

  Tomorrow would be a bad day.

  Claire realized how hellish it was going to be for him, so she was compelled to do something about it. After a few minutes of Googling, she had a game plan in action. Someone had to make sure he was safe, and she wanted to be the woman tasked that duty in life.

  So, she’d start immediately.

  Once back from her late night mission, the time moved slowly as she anticipated the morning.

  Now, she was suffering from the lack of sleep. Her only chance of making it through the day was going to be caffeine, and copious amounts of it.

  As she stood at the counter, sipping her coffee, she could feel eyes watching her. Glancing up, there he was.

  It was like thinking about him conjured him up. He stood there in a simple t-shirt and jeans, watching her like he wanted to say something.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “You look pissed off, Beck. Do you need some coffee?” She was sad that he’d had a rough night. It made her want to cater to him until he was healed.

  The use of his nickname grated on him. He’d slept very little, waiting up until she rolled in after one. He wanted to confront her last night, but didn’t want to wake the bosses.

  So, it was going to be now.

  “No, I’m not okay.”

  She poured him some coffee and went to cross to him.

  “Stop.”

  Claire did, not because he asked, but because she could hear the irritation in his voice. “Did someone piss in your Cheerios this morning?” she asked.

  “Where did you go last night, Claire? I saw you sneaking out like thief in the night.”

  That caught her off guard. She wasn’t really sneaking out, but trying not to wake up the sleeping team. “I had an errand to run,” she offered.

  And that was the truth. It was all for him.

  “Really? After midnight, you decided to head out without telling anyone?”

  He could feel the irrational behavior taking control, even as he did battle to beat it back.

  Beckett was losing this one.

  He could feel it.

  “You were watching me?” she asked. Had she known he was up, Claire would have asked him to join her. She could have grabbed a late dinner and spent some time getting to know him. Instead, she had opted to give him time to rest.

  “It was hard not to. I heard you leaving your room and then the house. Where did you go?”

  He wanted her to tell him the truth so he could hate her. He wanted Claire to lie so what he was feeling would die inside him. It was too easy to fall for the woman before him. Even today, knowing she slept very little, he saw how sunny she was. In her pale yellow shirt, jeans, and persistent smile, he wanted to bask in the warmth more.

  “You’re getting angry for no reason.”

  Oh, he was well aware, but he wanted her. Damn it! He couldn’t hold back his heart anymore. Five years of pain was being eaten away by a couple of days with Claire.

  It shouldn’t be possible.

  He needed to dislike her in order to save himself the world of pain that was surely coming for him. He was a coward and taking the easy way out.

  “I think asking where my partner went is a logical question. We’re a team, remember?”

  Oh, she absolutely did, and that’s why she went out. She was watching his back.

  Beckett’s eyes never left hers. Trust was a big issue with him, and normal people didn’t sneak out after midnight.

  That behavior threw up red flags this time around. He swore he would never fall for a lying woman again.

  Claire went to the counter. Sitting on it was a simple gift bag. She didn’t have time to make it fancy, so she went with practical. That’s pretty much how men liked it, right?

  She knew getting Beckett to believe in her was going to be hard, but this seemed like insurmountable odds. He was looking for any reason to crucify her.

  It was clear as day.

  “I was lying in bed last night, and it occurred to me that today was going to be a bitch for you, Beckett. I wanted to make sure you’d survive it.”

  He didn’t understand as she crossed to him, handing him the brown gift bag.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I was worried about you and couldn’t sleep. Whether you choose to believe that or not, it’s up to you. It’s the truth. Go ahead. Look inside.”

  He did just that. Reaching
in, he pulled out a pair of brown, buttery soft leather gloves.

  “I found a supercenter and got them for you. We’re going into that wall, and God only knows what’s in there. I didn’t want you getting hurt. I was trying to protect you. I’m sorry if you can’t believe that.”

  He didn’t know what to say.

  Here, he’d just accused her of every sin he could come up with, and she was innocent. Claire didn’t lie.

  “I’m not sure how your gift works, but the wine cellar is old, and so is the passage. I didn’t want you panicking. I figured the leather might protect your hands. I wasn’t sure, but it was worth a shot.”

  He looked up at her. Claire’s face said it all. She was hurt by his distrust.

  Beckett Rand was an asshole.

  “You went out for me?” That touched him. While his ex used his secret to hurt him, Claire had tried to protect him again, and he’d jumped down her throat.

  Way to go, Beckett.

  He was the king of assholes.

  Beckett was definitely out of touch with reality, and women.

  “I hope they fit. It’s not easy to find gloves, in the spring, and in the Deep South. I did my best.”

  He rubbed the beige leather between his fingers.

  “Claire, I…”

  “Forget it. I get it, Beckett. I get it.”

  But she didn’t. Claire was struggling to get him to trust her, and it was overwhelming her. When she first saw him, she fell, and hard. The eyes, the hair, and the grin when he thought she wasn’t looking had captivated her. She wanted him to see her, but instead she was doing battle with the ghosts of his past.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I,” she stated. “I’ll say it again, Beckett, and maybe you’ll start to believe me. I’m not her. I’m never going to be the woman who hurt you. At some point, you’re going to need to trust someone. I thought I could be your friend, and it could be me.”

  Yeah, the truth was evident.

  She was never going to be his friend, or more. Not at this rate, and definitely not with this wall of distrust already built between them. With each brick she removed, ten more appeared to keep him walled off from his feelings.