“Lydia, I know I’m sounding like a broken record here—”
“Fine,” she hissed as if to herself. “I’ll just do the damn legwork. I’ll find the evidence—or whatever the hell it takes. But I’m not going to stand by and let those people—”
“Lydia.”
“—ruin this land. I don’t care what they do to me or how they try to scare me—”
Daniel frowned as he plugged in to what she was saying. “Wait, what? Have they done something to you?”
As she continued to mutter while staring at the barn, he tapped her on the shoulder. When she finally looked away from the newscaster and cameraman, he took Lydia’s hand to make sure she paid attention.
“What did they do to you.” He put his palm up as she opened her mouth. “No, you don’t fucking lie to me. You brought me into this. You don’t get to start editing the story now.”
Her eyes went back to the barn, her brows down, her lips in a tight line. As a breeze came up, her ponytail was swept in his direction and he caught a whiff of her shampoo.
“You can trust me,” he said softly.
Her laugh was short. “Weren’t you the one who just told me not to trust anybody?”
“I wasn’t referring to myself.”
“Well, I still haven’t checked your references.” This was spoken absently. Like it was a mental note that had just popped up as a reminder on her proverbial brain screen. “I don’t know you.”
“You wanted me to come with you for a reason. That had nothing to do with the gross weight of those invitations.”
When she crossed her arms over her chest and didn’t respond, he took out his phone. Going into his contacts, he called up a number, hit send, and held the cell out to her.
“Here,” he prompted when she just stared at the thing.
“Who did you call?”
“Take it. It’s for you.”
Her hand was shaking as she reached forward, and he had a thought that he was pushing her too hard. And then he decided no. She could take it. She might be scared, but she wasn’t running.
Lydia put the phone up to her ear, her brows drawing together again. “Um … hello? Ah, yes.” She shot him a glare that was all about the this-is-not-the-time. “I—ah, sorry. Did you have an employee by the name of Daniel Joseph—oh? Oh, good. Well, my name is Lydia Susi and he’s applied for a job with the nonprofit I work for. You’re listed as a reference for him—oh? Oh. Really?”
As she went back to staring out the gap between the boards, there was a series of pauses. Then some more affirmatory commentary from her.
After which she hung up just as out at the barn, the newscaster put her phone up to her ear.
“What did they say?” Daniel asked.
“They loved you.” She glanced at him. “They said you went above and beyond, even in small things. They said they’d rehire you in a second. Congratulations.”
He took the phone from her. As he went into his contacts again, she spoke up. “You already have the job. We don’t need to—”
“This is not about the job.” He hit send and then pushed the phone back at her. “Go on. Take it—”
“Daniel.”
“Or are you going to talk to me about what happened to you. Your choice.”
She batted the cell away. “We’re up in a tree—”
“I know where we are. Talk to them or talk to me.”
“Are you always this pushy?”
“Are you always this hard-headed?”
As they glared at each other, Lydia took the phone, ended the call, and put the cell in her own pocket. “You get it back when you stop dialing.”
Daniel blinked. And then had to laugh softly. “Did you just put me in a time out?”
“Yes, I did. Now be a good boy and give me a little more time up here. Or no dessert.”
Lydia returned to the crack in the boards—and he couldn’t help it. His eyes traced over her shoulders and down the curve of her spine.
Dessert sounded great, he thought.
And the fact that he wanted her on his double entendre menu was a cliché. Then again, he was pretty sure she could say anything in any situation and he’d be able to find a horizontal inference.
A lick of time. Let’s touch base. Play your cards right.
Even single words weren’t safe from his dumb handle’s bright ideas.
Potato, for example.
Damn, he was a sick fuck.
Focusing on her profile, he felt a twist in his gut that had nothing to do with anything hot and bothered.
“What did they do to you, Lydia,” he said grimly.
BEFORE LYDIA COULD respond to Daniel’s stark demand, she had an eerie sense of warning tickle its way across her nape.
Twisting around, she found a different gap in the boards that let her look out away from the barn. As she tried to identify what had gotten her attention, her heart rate tripled. Just as she was getting frustrated with herself—