Xander went back to the counter to talk to Chelsea. Hunter was right, the security issues needed fixing. This time as he went under the framing, the scent hit him—all the herbs, the fresh dough Luigi was working on, the vibrant color of the tomato sauce. It looked fresh and good. There was a touch of Wonderland about the whole place. Xander thought it was delightful—but vulnerable. He looked around it again, focussing on the problem areas. “Is that Luigi creature going to be alone in here at night?” he quietly asked Chelsea who was still squeezing pots of herbs into place in the walls.
“Another of the volunteers will be around,” she answered distractedly.
Not Chelsea—not if Xander had anything to do with it. “A real man?”
At that she turned, a basil plant in hand. “You know on the surface you seem so apple pie.”
He frowned as he sized up the lack of lighting. What’d she mean by that?
“You know, the good old American upbringing—the apple of mom’s eye,” she explained. “Sporty, academic, successful. Life guard, ski patrol…”
Yeah, he still didn’t get where she was going, he was more interested in the lack of security cameras and wondering how he could install them without her thinking they were too intrusive and not artsy enough. “And your point?”
She cocked her head on a cute angle, an even cuter smile curved her lips. “Yet you’re constantly scoping places for security issues. How did you get into this? What made you so interested in it?”
He stopped his automatic site scrutiny and stared at her—clocking the bright curiosity in her eyes. She’d asked him for personal info before, but he’d denied her mostly. That, he suddenly realized, was his mistake. She wanted to know—she wanted to understand more about him. Maybe, just maybe, it was a way to build up some real trust between then. And while there were some things he’d never tell anyone, he could give her a little more than just sex secrets.
Chelsea smiled as she watched him automatically glance round again before turning towards her. She’d noticed it before—the way he scoped for threats, the weaknesses of wherever they happened to be. She could tell by the way his eyes had narrowed that he’d found plenty of weaknesses in the pop-up.
“I’m good at security because I know the mind of the criminal. The thief,” he said quietly.
Her jaw dropped. From surprise that he’d actually answered her as much as because of what he’d actually said. “You do?” Knew the mind of the thief? “How so?”
“My feckless father.”
His dad was a con? Chelsea’s pulse thudded—but that didn’t stop her pushing for more. “Was he a white collar crim?”
“He wasn’t that smart.” He grimaced but kept talking. “He was your common garden thug who’d bash someone and steal their purse.”
No way. Chelsea bit her lip and wondered what Xander had been exposed to. “He was desperate?”
“Don’t try to find excuses for him,” Xander said firmly. “He just got off on it. He liked burglary and theft. Liked to own.” A grim look froze Xander’s eyes. “He took me along with him when I was little.”
“No.” Appalled, she gazed up at him.
“I made a good look-out. And I had to or there’d be trouble.”
“Trouble?”
“I’m sure you can imagine.”
She could and she didn’t like what was flashing through her mind. “Were you scared?” She winced as soon as she’d asked. Stupid question.
“I was a seven year old boy sitting in a beat-up car in a broken down, violent as shit neighborhood. Yes, I was scared.” He walked out of the pop-up into the darkened evening.
Chelsea followed, sensing he was holding so much back. So much had been unsaid in that bare explanation. What had happened? She wasn’t going to get it from him—not now. And this wasn’t the place to push things further.
He’d turned back to look at the small structure from the outside. “As a result, I see things other people don’t tend to look for.” His tone lightened. “I see ledges and balconies, all kinds of exit and entry points. I see shadows and corners and places to hide.”
She shivered. But she knew he identified those to shine the light onto them—to help people. Save people. Protect.
“You going to let me help you out with these herbs again?” He turned to face her, eyeballing her—like he was daring her to refuse him. “Isn’t it supposed to be a collaborative, community thing?”
His eyes were too beautiful—that brilliant blue, and on his lips there was that irresistible, charming smile. How could she possibly resist? She handed him the basil plant. “Be my guest.”
An hour later all the plants had been placed—the leaves almost woven together to create the lush green walls. It was exactly as she’d envisioned it—beautiful.
“Come and try some!” Luisa called in her ridiculously un-Italian accent. She walked out of the pop-up holding out a giant tray.
Xander’s phone rang at the exact same time. He answered, gesturing for Chelsea to go get some anyway.
Chelsea blew on a piece of hot pizza, aware of the tall, silent Hunter standing beside her. The man was obviously made of iron given he made short work of the steaming hot pizza and was onto his second slice already.
His silence tweaked Chelsea’s nerves. He clearly didn’t do idle chit-chat, wasn’t the kind to say something for the sake of it and she couldn’t think of a thing to witter on about. Certainly wasn’t going to ask him about Xander. Not after Logan.
But then he finished that second slice and glanced at her. “Pizza’s good.”
“I’m so glad.” She really was. “Thanks for helping out.”
He shrugged like it was no bother and resumed his intent study of the people passing. Most stared at them to see what was going on. Some stopped to ask—Luisa was in full flight telling them all and handing out fliers. It was going to be a crazy busy couple of weeks.
“Your serving guy’s quite a character too.” Hunter said slowly. “Where’d you find her?”
Chelsea smiled. “She was the barista at the coffee cart outside work and was happy to take on something random. She’s travelling round and just happened to have worked in a pizza restaurant before—in New Zealand. That’s where she’s from. Not Italy.”
“You don’t say.”
Chelsea chuckled and took another look around the pop-up. The pizzas were good, the greenery was gorgeous, the pictures hilarious. “The inspectors are coming first thing to sign it off. Then we can start selling.”
“Fast work.”
She nodded, thrilled. “That’s part of the project. UP over night, here for a few days and then it vanishes.”
“Good thing that this site came up for you.”
Hunter knew about that? Xander must have told him. “Yeah, I can’t believe it.”
“Almost too good to be true, right?”
She turned and met Hunter’s eyes—discovered he was as good at staring right through people as Xander was. “Maybe?” she asked cautiously.
“Who is it who owns this site?”
“I’m not entirely sure, some consortium I think.”
Hunter made a sound that sounded like a cross between a mumble and a snort and wandered off.
Chelsea frowned as she watched him walk away. Why had he asked? Why had he questioned? It made her question.
She pulled out her
phone and quickly Googled the name of the company the Facebook comment guy had given her. It was a holding company. She searched the info page—saw some of the subsidiaries listed, some of the management team were named and some of their recent deals were profiled. She paused as she read the third one down. They’d recently announced a collaboration with Logan Hughes?
Of course. Contacts. It was all about contacts and Logan Hughes had arranged this. Chelsea winced. What a fool she was. She’d been so glad to secure a spot she didn’t care who the site belonged to. She hadn’t taken the time to think how coincidental, how ‘too-perfect’ the timing was. But now it was all too obvious. Xander had pulled strings. He’d helped her out. He’d damn well rescued her.
And she was furious with him.
Chapter Nineteen
“I’ll see you home.”
Of course he would. He was that kind of guy. But Chelsea didn’t argue, her leg ached. Hell, her whole body ached. Besides, she wanted to call him on it.
She was silent for the cab ride home. Still said nothing once they got to the building.
He got out on her floor of course. Seeing her safely to her door. She unlocked and opened it and then turned to face him.
“You got Logan to find me a space.”
It was almost three in the morning, she was tired and seriously grumpy.
He looked at her for a moment then glanced away. “Bloody Hunter,” he muttered.
“I didn’t want your help,” she said.
He swiftly moved—taking five paces forward so she had to retreat. He slammed the door behind him.
“I watched my mother bust her butt for years trying to get us ahead and I’m damned if I’m going to sit by and watch anyone work their fingers to the bone if there’s something I can do to help them out,” he growled.
Just like that he snuffed her anger. Suddenly she felt sorry. “I didn’t know that about your mother.” She’d known there had to be reasons why he worked so hard, why he’d liked to be the lifeguard. His mom had needed help? Of course—if his father had been that awful. Horrible suspicions entered her mind and she looked at him. Waited. Wanted him to speak more.