Mowed Over (Sonoma Book 2) Read online

  I look closer at the bolt Lukas is pointing at and there are, in fact, deep scratches in the metal. Loud buzzing fills my ears as I try to breathe and process what he's saying.

  "You're saying you think someone tampered with my battery while I was working last night? That's what Asher thinks too?"

  Lukas huffs out a worried breath. "Yeah. We both think so. And I think they reconnected it before you and Olive came back this morning, which doesn't lead me to believe it's just a prank. I think someone wanted to isolate you and get you into their car. It's easy with a Jeep, since they don't have to get inside the cab to pop the hood."

  Lukas keeps running his hands through his hair, and it's standing up at weird angles. I'd laugh if I wasn't so busy trying to squash a panic attack. An icy ball of lead settles deep in my stomach. If this was anyone else telling me about the scratches, I'd laugh it off, but my brothers are meticulous about their work. If Lukas says someone tampered with my car, I believe him.

  Suddenly the warmth of the spring sunshine doesn't feel like it's reaching my skin anymore. Someone wanted me stranded, alone in the dark outside the bar, at 3 am. What if my phone had died before I reached Luis? I have a flash of the car that pulled into the parking lot and turned around with their high beams cranked up, blinding me as I got into the safety of Luis' car.

  For a second I think I might throw up. Did I come that close to danger?

  "Asher thinks we should file a police report," Lukas says, interrupting my terrifying train of thought. "He's freaking out."

  "And tell them what? That there are scratches on my battery cables? What are they going to do?" I ask him. "It's not even like they can dust for prints. It was pouring rain last night, and Olive and I had our hands all over the hood this morning before you even got to it. They won't take it seriously. Just document it in my car paperwork at the shop in case anything else happens."

  Lukas looks like he wants to argue with me. But what's the point? He knows I'm right.

  Chapter 13: Ben

  "There's a present on its way to you," my sister says. I can hear honking in the background and then it sounds like she's holding the phone away from her ear as she yells, "It's a crosswalk, asshole! Pedestrians have the right of way!"

  "Good morning to you too," I tease her back. The honking fades as she curses under her breath. "How's the festival? How is DC?"

  "Wet and crowded. I'd give my Nikon 24-70 for a desert assignment right now."

  "Only you could be salty about a cherry blossom festival."

  "Yeah, well, you try getting a decent shot while thousands upon thousands of yokels swarm the tidal basin and the humidity defies science. I haven't had to drink water since I landed. I'm just absorbing it from the air like a frog." I laugh because that so perfectly sums up my sister. "How are Mom and Dad?" she asks.

  "Enjoying early retirement. Mom is making wind chimes out of recycled trash and Dad is building a shed."

  "Well, that sounds very... nice." Ella sounds like she'd rather stab herself in the neck with a rusty pipe than make wind chimes and build a shed.

  "I think it is for them," I say. "They miss you. Mom thinks you're in India and can't get reception."

  Ella laughs. "Yeah, sorry about that. I needed a break. She keeps asking if I've met anyone. She wants grandbabies and hasn't come to terms with the fact that you are her only hope."

  "It's a bleak prospect."

  "Surely there must be someone out there for you. You're so normal."

  "Oh yeah, totally normal," I scoff. "Reclusive hacker screams normal."

  "But you're a rich, reclusive hacker. You can get away with the rest because it's balanced out by your bank account. Speaking of the rest, thank you for helping my friend the other day."

  She's being vague on purpose. We rarely talk about the people I help in my side work. Mostly because the fewer breadcrumbs we leave, the better. It's bad enough that Ella often has a physical connection to them.

  "Piece of cake," I tell her.

  There's a lengthy pause. I know she has something to get out, and she's struggling. I'm patient.

  "It was bad," she finally says.

  "How bad?" I ask.

  "I'm not supposed to talk about it. Support groups are supposed to be anonymous."

  "Well, technically she's a completely new person now. Does confidentiality apply when someone disappears off the face of the Earth? Besides, I can tell you need to talk about it and it's not like you can do that in a support group. I'm a vault, Ella. You know that."

  My sister makes a choking sound. Shit, I made her cry.

  "She turned up in a group out here all black and blue," she says through the tears. "She had handprint bruises on her arms and her face was still swollen. They locked him up, I mean they had plenty of evidence. But then he started calling her from prison. Sent letters. Threatened her over and over. Even from behind bars, he had someone trash her car and throw rocks through her windows. It wasn't going to end until one of them was dead."

  A story she knows only too well. My sister survived her own abusive marriage, but some trauma never goes away. Much like the guilt I carry because I was too self-absorbed with my work to see what was happening with my sister.

  "She's safe now, Ella." I try to calm her as much as I can, considering I'm on the far side of the country. "And so are you. We took care of her. She has a new life, and no one will ever know where she went."

  "I know," she whispers.

  "I miss you. Come out to California when you're done with D.C.," I tell her.

  "Yeah, I'd like that. Maybe in the fall. How's the girl next door?" she asks, changing the subject. I can hear her voice is still shaking, but if she's ready to talk about something else, that's fine.

  "Lilah? She's... a firecracker. I'm sure you'd like her."

  "I bet I will," I can hear her smiling through the phone. "Does she know what you do?"

  "Not yet," I hedge. "But I'll tell her. After I convince her to like me."

  Ella laughs. She finally sounds like her normal happy self. "If anyone could do it, it's you. I've gotta run. Good luck with that."

  "Have fun, be safe," I say.

  "You too."

  After hanging up, I check my watch. I'm supposed to be downtown to meet Jack for lunch in half an hour. I swear, if it wasn't for him, I'd never leave my house. It's not that I'm antisocial, exactly. I just have everything I need here. Well, almost everything. The pull I feel towards Lilah Donovan is almost frustrating in its intensity. It would be so much easier if I could just forget about her and go back to a world where all I think about is my computer.

  Easier, but much less interesting.

  I find Jack in the rooftop bar at the address he gave me. A pretty blond server is trying to flirt with him, batting her hand against his arm and fluttering her eyelashes. Jack looks bored. Jack always looks bored, but he's usually just deep in thought. I sit down next to him and pat his knee.

  "Sorry I'm late, sweetheart," I say with my best apologetic face. The waitress gives me a wide-eyed look and disappears faster than a fox down a hole.

  "Thanks for that," Jack says wryly.

  "Oh, you weren't interested. Don't act like I didn't just save you."

  "Oh, thank you for rescuing me from the big bad waitress," he says sarcastically. "She was terrifying, and I never could have chased her off on my own. Whatever would I do without my big protector?" He shoots me a sarcastic look. "I needed a date for a fundraiser next month. She would have been fine."

  I want to ask him why he'd settle for "fine”, but I know he won’t give me a straight answer.

  "How's your mom?" I ask instead.

  "Widowhood doesn't seem to bother her. She's taking up pottery," he says.

  "Perfect, she can open a roadside stand with my mom and her wind chimes," I say as I flag the bartender down. I order an iced tea and a cheeseburger. My dad would hate the cheeseburgers out here. Everything has avocado and expensive cheese, and nobody squishes the bun down in
tin foil.

  Jack takes a drink of his iced tea, crunching on an ice cube with a thoughtful expression on his face. He opens his mouth to say something, but we're both distracted by a chorus of laughter. I look over my shoulder at the group of women out on the deck, they're sitting on couches, sipping water and there's something oddly familiar about a couple of their faces. I'm trying to place them when the woman closest to me leans back, giving me a clear view of the woman behind her. The sight sends blood pumping furiously through my body, so strong that it's all I can hear or feel.

  Lilah, in a white dress, her hair shimmering in the sunshine as she laughs at something an older woman with incredibly blue hair is saying. I don't think I've ever seen her look so happy. My chest constricts uncomfortably, and I realize I'm jealous. I want her to look at me like that.

  Chapter 14: Lilah

  I'm just putting the finishing touches on the lemon meringue tarts when someone sneaks up behind me, intentionally scaring the shit out of me. I let out a screech that could probably wake the dead and whip around to see my sister Julia laughing so hard she looks like she might pee herself. She's gripping the edge of the marble countertop and gasping for dear life.

  "Gotchu... so good..." she says between cackles.

  "Very mature, Julia. Now I have to make another batch of meringue just to redo two tarts."

  "No, you don't," she says before swiping a tart with each hand. "You'll make us late for lunch. I'll just eat these and then it's like it never even happened." She takes a huge bite out of one. Olive walks back into the kitchen carrying an empty sheet tray.

  "What in the fresh hell are you doing in my kitchen?!" she yells at Julia. "Your hair isn't even in a ponytail for Christ's sake! Get out!"

  Julia laughs and skedaddles back out the side door, taking her ill-gotten gains with her.

  "Animal!" Olive yells at her retreating back before shaking her head at me. "Did she mess those up on purpose?"

  "Oh, for sure. You know how she is with lemon curd. She’s practically a raccoon. You could always send her an invoice for them."

  "Nah," Olive waves a hand in the air. "I'll just steal a nice bottle of wine next time I'm in her apartment. Ready for lunch?" she asks.

  "Yup, let me put these in the display case and we can go."

  "Hand them off to Allison. She needs something to do besides text her boyfriend." Olive rolls her eyes so hard I'm afraid she's going to pull a muscle. "At least she's peeled her eyeballs off of Brooks."

  Olive, Julia, and I walk to Sally's boutique, enjoying the sunshine and clear blue sky. It's only a couple blocks and barely enough time for Julia to fill us in on how much she despises the doctors at the hospital. Sally waves at us from the front display where she's dusting a mannequin in a long black sequin sheath dress.

  Sally's in her mid-60s and wild as all hell. Her hair is a shocking shade of turquoise and she's wearing flowing layers of white clothing and what might be every gold necklace and bracelet she carries in the shop. She kisses us each on the cheek as she ushers us inside. Styx is playing in the background as we spot Gran in the back admiring a lime green tunic. I swear to god; they cut Gran and Sally from the same cloth.

  "I've got a present for you!" Sally singsongs as she hustles into the back room of the boutique.

  "I have no idea which one of us she meant, but I call dibs," Julia spouts off.

  Sally reappears a minute later with three dresses on hangers. "I just got these samples and they're in your sizes." She hands me a short white lace dress with a low v neck and long sleeves.

  "Slutty bridal chic?" I ask her with a grin.

  Sally rolls her eyes at me. "Just try it on before you snark at me about it. I guarantee that will look like a million bucks on you."

  "My ass will hang out of this!" I tell her, but I scoot back to the dressing room. I can argue with Sally all day, but we'll never get to lunch if I don't at least try it on.

  Olive and Julia follow me, and we change into our new dresses. Julia's dress is a red knee-length stretch jersey and clings to her every curve, making her look every inch like the pinup model she is. Olive's is a navy-blue linen sheath that makes her look like a modern Kennedy. Again, perfect.

  I finally get the nerve to look at myself in the mirror. I'm shorter than both my sisters. I'm not as thin as Olive or as classically curvy as Julia. I'm more... athletic? I've always been a little insecure about it, but holy shit this dress is doing me every favor. My legs look incredible and even though I'm only 5'2", they look long as hell. I'm never taking this dress off, even if I could wear it for a wedding on the Vegas Strip.

  Sally throws the changing room curtain back and whistles at us. "Let's go! I'm starving." I toss my jeans and t-shirt into my oversized purse. Julia complains about being overdressed for lunch, but Sally shuts her down immediately.

  "You can never be overdressed!"

  "She should put that on her business cards," Julia mutters.

  Olive snatches a card off the front desk as we walk by and hands it to Julia. "She did," she whispers with a grin.

  Sally planned lunch this month and refused to tell us where we were going, so we follow her down Main Street on foot. I link arms with Gran, and she tells me all about her garden as we walk together. We get to a hotel and Sally opens the front door, gesturing grandly for us to enter. She marches us across the lobby to a bank of elevators.

  "Are we having room service for lunch?" I tease her as we step inside.

  "Ha-ha, very funny smartass." She grins back as she hits the button for the top floor. We step out into a rooftop restaurant covered with pergolas and potted trees.

  "Holy shit..." Julia trails off. "How did I not know this was here?"

  Sally just smirks and gives the hostess a name for the reservation. Not her name, of course.

  "Sally Clooney?" Olive asks.

  Sally sighs and puts a hand over her heart. "A woman has to have ambition, otherwise she stagnates." I can't help laughing at that.

  We sit under a vine-covered pergola on outdoor sofas situated around a stone table. Vineyards cover the hills in the distance and when the wind blows my hair over my shoulder, I take a deep breath. I've never been more grateful to live in California than I am at this moment. Sally orders a round of mojitos when the server comes by and I groan.

  "One drink, Sally. One! I'm never getting drunk with you again," I warn her.

  "Oh, come on," Olive teases. "It's not her fault you can't hold your liquor and hit on Clark Hottie Kent next door." I smack her thigh, but the damage is already done. Gran is leaning in, mischief in her eyes, and Sally has an eyebrow firmly situated around her hairline.

  "What?!" Julia gasps. "You didn't tell me about that!" she says accusingly.

  I wince as I sip my water. "Yeah, not my finest moment," I say.

  "Oh, I don't know. I thought it was kind of cute," comes a deep rumbly Texas twang behind me. Tingles run up my spine and my shoulders snap back with a little shiver.

  Gran, Sally, and Julia are all staring somewhere behind me with their mouths gaping open. I turn slowly and sure enough, Ben is standing right there. I am suddenly very aware of the low neckline on this dress and the way the hem has crept all the way up my thighs. Great. Perfect. I'm fine. This is totally fine.

  Except I'm still staring at Ben. And I don't think I can recover from this.

  I don't have to do anything because he leans down and kisses me on the cheek in what I'm sure looks like a friendly gesture to everyone else. It happens so fast that I don't even register the touch until it's gone, leaving behind a warm tingle where his lips grazed my skin and the pounding of my heart as it tries to escape my chest.

  "Ha-h" I stutter and swallow the lump in my throat. I collect myself and then say, "Hi. Hi, Ben." Oh yeah, I'm smooth as silk over here. If someone could dig a hole for me to crawl into, that would be great.

  Ben gestures to a man sitting at the bar. "I'm having lunch with my friend, Jack." I glance over and his friend waves at
me with a half-interested smile. He has dark eyes and short dark hair and he's wearing an expensive suit. Something about him gives off a devil-may-care attitude. Give him a hat and an earring and he'd make an excellent pirate.

  Sally mutters, "Yes please," under her breath and Olive nearly chokes on her drink.

  Ben waves back to his friend like nothing happened and continues, "I saw you and couldn't pass up the chance to come say hi. Since you won't let me take you out, and all." His adorable half-smirk lifts one side of his mouth. Despite the cocky smile, there's a vulnerability in his eyes that is stirring up some emotions I'm not totally comfortable dealing with. Ok, maybe I kind of regret running out of his house like a complete chicken the other day. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been thinking about that kiss 24/7.

  I drop my gaze... and realize I'm at eye level with his dick. Even in the pale tan chino shorts he's sporting, it's hard to hide what he's packing. Pun intended, because I am a child.

  Trying to regain some control of the situation, I stand and smooth my dress down my legs as far as it will go. Damn Sally and her free dress temptations. If I was still wearing my jeans and t-shirt, I might feel a little less naked, both figuratively and literally. Although... it's hard to miss the appreciative way Ben looks me up and down; and when he bites his lip, I have to admit, I'm not mad at it.

  "Ben, these are my sisters, Olive and Julia, my grandmother, and our friend, Sally." I've finally got my voice back, even if it is a little breathy and quavery. I look back at them, desperately willing Sally to behave as I say, "Everyone, this is my neighbor, Ben."

  Ben steps around the edge of the sofa, shaking everyone's hand and doling out million-watt smiles. "I won't keep you from your lunch. Nice to meet you, ladies. Lilah..."

  My name rolls off his tongue like liquid sex before he lets his voice trail off, the pause pregnant with promises. An empty second that says a million things. A micro-moment dripping with how much he wants me and an oath that he hasn't given up on me. Time stands still for a split second, nothing moving except for the breath in my chest and a slow blink.