Chapter 5

Amy smiled at the man standing on her porch as his eyes ran up her body.  Fighting the urge to shift on her feet, she brought one hand up and covered her mouth as a fake yawn escaped it.  The action brought the man’s eyes to her face, and Amy faltered.  Did she honestly want him to look right into her eyes as she lied to him?  He didn’t look like a bad man, but that could have been because of the nice Marshal badge he had flashed her as soon as she opened the door.  Overall, if this was the big bad man following the half-naked guy in her living room, she wasn’t too worried.  The Marshal’s smile was warm, and his body language wasn’t even slightly intimidating. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she moved her hand from her mouth to smooth her messy hair.  “I just woke up.”

His eyes lingered towards the edge of her shirt, which was still pulled up to show her stomach.  With a flush that was more real than fake, she tugged the shirt down to cover herself.  Amusement crinkled the corner of the man’s eyes as he looked back at her face.  “Which would explain why it took you so long to get to the door.”

A small smile flew onto her face, but not an overly bright one.  There had been plenty of times she had to lie to her brothers to be able to do anything fun in her life, and she wasn’t beyond using those tactics on a Marshal if it was needed.  Leaning against the doorframe, she glanced up at him through her eyelashes.  “I had a late night.”  Glancing away, she let a small bit of the sadness she felt slip onto her face.  “I forgot how lonely it gets up here, but I needed to get away.”  Shrugging, she looked back at him, noticing that his eyes were solely on her face.  “I guess it’s hard to sleep with the silence when you’re so used to the town noises.”

His arm went out, settling onto the wood above her head.  Leaning towards her a little, he sent her what appeared to be a friendly smile.  “I know what you mean.  When I first started work, it took me a while to get used to the different noises.  After traveling a lot, I got used to it though.”

“Oh,” she mumbled with a little bit of fake disappointment in her voice.  “So you don’t live around here?”

Something flashed in his eyes, and if she wasn’t mistaken, that something looked a lot like interest.  “Actually, I do live nearby, only about an hour away.”

She dropped her eyebrows down and pursed her lips as if she were thinking.  “But you travel a lot?  Tell me, are you working now or are you on vacation?”

A sigh escaped his mouth, and just as she wanted, he dropped his arm from above her and straightened slightly.  Still, he did not move an inch away from her, didn’t glance away from her face as he reached into his pocket.  “Unfortunately work,” he said as he handed her a picture.  “Have you seen this man?”

Amy scanned the photo.  If she shaved the man in the photo’s face and took off that outrageous headband, it was her guy.  She shook her head.  “No.”  With a worried expression on her face, one that wasn’t faked at all, she frowned.  “Is he dangerous?”

The Marshal took the photo back, slipping it into his pocket with a serious expression on his face.  “No.  He’s just wanted for questioning, but if he’s found by the wrong people, he may be in danger.”  His hand reached into his other pocket, producing a small business card.  Holding it out for her to take, he smiled.  “If you see him, or if you hear that he’s nearby, just give me a call.”

“Will do,” she replied, stepping further into her cabin.

He turned, and Amy let out a relieved breath as he began walking away.  Her hand curled tightly around the door as she began easing it closed.  “Hey!” he called out, making her freeze.  Her eyes went towards the half-naked man standing on the other side of the door, but when he shook his head at her, Amy looked back towards the Marshal.

“Yeah?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

A large grin flew onto the Marshal’s face.  “That card is good for the lonely nights too.”  With those words, he sent her a small wave over his shoulder and bounded across her yard.  Standing completely still, she waited until she saw him slip into his black car before she let out another sigh of relief. 

“You can close the door now.”

Her head snapped towards the man next to her, and a glare narrowed her eyes.  “Why should I?  As far as I know, you’re a liar.  Heck, maybe your best bet would be to go with the Marshal.  You could go into protective custody, get away from me, and live happily ever after.”

His hand curled around hers, prying it from the door.  As he eased it shut, he shifted away from her.  “I haven’t told you anything yet.  How could I be lying to you?”

She fought to keep the red from her face, but knew she wasn’t successful when the familiar heat burned her cheeks.  “Maybe you should tell me something, and then I’ll call you a liar.”

“If I know you aren’t going to believe me,” he threw back as he bent down to pick up something from the ground, “why should I tell you anything?”

Her eyes watched him as he bent down to pick up his clothing.  He definitely looked different from the rugged man in the photo.  Now, he was clean-shaven, his hair was shorter, his skin wasn’t as light as it was in the photo, but the features were the same.  Clearing her throat, she glanced away from him as he started pulling her Uncle Bernie’s sweats on.  “Because I saved your life, or maybe because all I would have to do is call the Marshal and tell him where you are.”

“You wouldn’t,” he said, his head snapping towards her.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she smiled.  It didn’t matter that she couldn’t call the Marshal even if she wanted to.  He didn't know that.  As far as he knew, her phones were working, and that was how she was going to keep it.  “I would.”

He mumbled something under his breath that she couldn’t catch as he jerked one of her father’s old shirts, which now served as her nightshirts, over his head.  With an annoyed expression on his face, he walked towards the couch and eased himself into the large cushions.  “You win.  What do you want to know?”

All the questions that were once flying through her mind disappeared.  Now that he sat there, his body sprawled across her Uncle Bernie’s couch, she couldn’t think.  When he raised an eyebrow at her with a smile, she glared at him.  “How many questions can I ask?” she stalled.

“As many as you want, but I don’t promise that I’ll answer them all.”

She walked towards him, a smile on her face.  For some reason, his small bit of honesty made her relax.  Standing above him, she swiped at his feet.  “Sit up.”

His legs swooped to the ground, making room for her.  “Do you always find yourself that comfortable with men?”

“What?” she asked, confused by the abrupt change of subject.

The man motioned towards the door, a blank expression on his face.  “You just played that man like an experienced grifter.  Either you’re good at lying, or you just know how to play men.”

She bit the side of her cheek to keep her anger at bay.  “I did that for you,” she snapped.  Glancing at the occupied area of the couch, she moved away from it to stand directly above him.  “I don’t make a habit out of lying to people, when I was younger, maybe, but I grew up.”  She paused.  “And what in the world is a grifter?”

His hands shot out and wrapped around her waist.  A gasp escaped her mouth as he tossed her onto the couch.  She sat up, twisting to glare at him.  The smile, that was absent on his face only moments ago, returned.  “A grifter is a person who swindles people for money.”

Snorting, she shook her head.  “I don’t need money.”  She paused, her eyes narrowing on him.  “Do you swindle people for money?”

“No,” he said shortly as he rose to his feet.  “Did you say something about being hungry?”

Her eyes narrowed on his back, as he walked towards the kitchen.  As if he owned the place, he rummaged through the fridge.  When he straightened, his hands were full.  She stared at the eggs, cheese, ham, butter and mushrooms as he set them down on the counter.  He disappeared, and she stared at the island that blocked her view until he jumped back up with a skillet in his hand. 

“Omelets?” she asked, letting her curiosity take over slightly.

Glancing up from the stove, he nodded at her.  “Yeah.  I figured we should eat the food from the fridge first.  The stuff in the cupboards will last you for a while, but some of this expires in about two weeks.”

“I don’t plan to be here longer than two weeks,” she replied as she stood to her feet.  Walking towards him, she stood near the entrance to the kitchen while watching him work.  “Neither will you.”

His eyes darted towards her before he glanced away.  “So you don’t live here?”

“No.  Do you live nearby?”

“Kinda,” he mumbled as he reached for the butter.  It sizzled as it hit the pan, but Amy kept her eyes on him.  With a sigh, he tilted the pan to coat the bottom with butter.  “I have an apartment in a town nearby, but I hardly stay there.  My job keeps me moving.”

“And your job is?”

“Do you like mushrooms?”

“Love them,” she snapped as she took a step towards him.  “Do you always avoid questions?”

“Only ones that I don’t want to answer,” he mumbled.  Eggs cracked into the pan, but other than the noise of him cooking, it was silent.  He would talk; she knew he would.  She just had to wait him out.  “Stop staring,” he snapped as his hands worked on the food in the skillet.  Her eyes stayed on him, and she wondered how long it would take him to give in.  Her older brother, Asher, could only last a minute before he blurted what she wanted to know, but this man wasn’t her brother.  As far as she knew, her staring would get her nowhere.  “Fine,” he said with a sigh.  “I’ll tell you what I can.”

“What you can or what you want?”

“Can,” he replied while setting a plate on the counter near her.  A drawer opened, and she finally glanced down as a fork clanked onto her plate.  “Eat, and I’ll talk.”  Using the side of her fork, she cut a piece of the omelet off before popping it into her mouth.  He watched her as she chewed, and if her mouth wasn’t full, a groan would have escaped it.  At least the man had one saving quality; he could cook.  A satisfied smile curled the corner of his lips, and Amy wanted to swipe it off his face.  She could tell the man already had an ego; she didn’t want to add to it by letting him know his food was heaven. 

Swallowing, the food slid down her throat with ease.  “How about you start with your name?”

“Jaxon Devearux.”

“Real name?” she asked while shoveling another bite into her mouth.

Amusement flashed in his eyes as he nodded.  “You wanna tell me your real name?”

“Amy O’Neal,” she mumbled as she cut another piece of her omelet off.  She kept her attention on the food in front of her, even as the silence entered the kitchen. 

“O’Neal,” he whispered.  “As in O’Neal and Hardy?”

She nodded her head, but still didn’t glance up at him.  “Yep.  My father is the O’Neal part of the firm, and my uncle is the Hardy.”

“Your father and uncle are lawyers?”

Hearing the unknown emotion in his voice, she glanced up at him.  His eyes were on the pan in front of him, but his body was stiff with what she could only guess was worry.  “Yes,” she said slowly as a slightly evil smile curled onto her face.  The man might be able to make good omelets, but if she could scare him, maybe he wouldn’t give her so much trouble.  “So is my older brother Asher.  My dad wanted the rest of us to go to law school, but he’s happy that we’re happy.”

Sliding his omelet from the pan and onto a plate, he glanced towards her.  “I already know what you do.  What do your brothers and sisters do?”

“Just brothers,” she corrected.  “There are four of them.  Asher, as you already know, is the lawyer that will take over the firm when my uncle and dad retire.  He’ll keep the name though.”

“Of course,” he muttered as he stared at her, his omelet forgotten. 

Amy glanced down at her empty plate before turning her attention to his full one.  “Are you going to eat that?”  He shook his head, but his expression was distracted as she walked towards him.  Grabbing the plate with both hands, she went to the other side of the bar, as far away from him as possible without bringing attention to the fact that she had just taken his food.  “Well, the second son shocked them all.  You have to know Carson to understand what I mean.  When he was a boy, my parents were afraid they would have to let him go to juvie.  He did everything from spray-painting people’s cars to stealing candy from a local market.  He was lucky that my dad cared enough to get him out of his charges.  They knew they couldn’t keep getting him out of his problems.  So, one day they let him go to jail.”

“Amy,” he said, his eyes staring directly at her face as she popped another piece of food into her mouth.  “Is he a cop?”

“Of course not,” she mumbled as she swallowed her food.  “He works with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

Jaxon laughed, but Amy could tell it was forced.  “Let me guess, your other brother is the Mayor?”

“Nothing so radical.  Logan is in the military.”

“Military,” he echoed.

With a proud nod, Amy jumped from her seat, carrying the two empty plates with her.  She rounded the island and set the plates in the sink.  “Yeah.  We were all really excited when he made the cut, but with Logan, there is no stopping him once he wants something.  Plus, it’s handy having a SEAL in the family.”

“Seal like the animal?” he asked in a hopeful voice.

“No, like the Navy,” she answered while turning back towards him.  His eyes went from her before looking towards the sink with a confused expression, and she knew she would have to bring his attention away from it before he realized she had eaten his omelet.  “Spencer is the more down to earth one,” she blurted, making him glance towards her.

He looked up for a moment as if pleading for something before looking back at her.  “What does he do?”

“Surfs,” she said, laughing when shock crossed his face.  “I know, right?  Out of all of us, Spence and I had to go our separate ways.  Being a teacher and a surfer doesn’t sound so exciting when your siblings have such high profile jobs.”

Jaxon shook his head in amusement, but the movement stopped when understanding crossed his face.  “Spencer O’Neal.  He’s doesn’t just surf.  He has an entire line of surfing gear.  The man even owns his own stores.”

“Yes,” she admitted, while holding up a finger for him to be silent, “but surfing and teaching people how to surf are his real passions.”

Running a frustrated hand though his hair, he glared at her.  “Your family is as high profile as they come.  Hell, when you said you were a teacher, I thought nobody would miss you for the summer.”  He paused for a moment.  “Do they even know you’re here?”  Silence met his answer, and he mumbled a curse beneath his breath.  “Will they come looking for you?”  More silence caused him to stomp towards the living room.

Amy followed him with her eyes, watching as he jerked his slightly wet jeans from the ground.  When his hand came back into view, she saw a flash drive in his palm.  He gripped it tightly in his fist as he walked back towards her.  Setting the thing carefully onto the counter, he glared at it.  “You want answers?  Call your brothers and ask one of them to retrieve what’s on here.  I’m sure as soon as you give them my name, they’ll know exactly what I’m doing here.”

“Jaxon,” she whispered as she took a step towards him.  He didn’t move, not even when she looked down in guilt.  “The phones don’t work.”

When he didn’t make a sound, she glanced up.  His eyes were settled on her, shock on his face, but soon, his face split into a large smile as laughter flew from his lips.  She stared at him, and the only thought that crossed her mind was that the man should laugh more often.  It made him look younger, less stomped on by the world.  “This is perfect.”

“What?”

Shaking his head, he waved a hand dismissively.  “Nothing.  I’ve just heard stories about your family, and to be honest, when I got into this mess, I thought that if I went to anyone in that town for help, it would be them.”

“They’re good people.”

He nodded at her.  “Yes, very good, very unreachable people.”  Letting out a sigh, he grabbed the flash drive.  His hand curled around it protectively, and Amy knew that whatever was on the thing was more important to him than anything else was.  “I can’t risk heading into town.  My best bet would be to stay here, hope that your brothers come early.”

“I could help,” she offered.  Even if she had no idea what she could do, she had to throw the words out there. What kind of person would she be if she didn’t at least try?

“How?” he asked, while walking out of the kitchen.  “You said it yourself, you’re a teacher.  There isn’t anything you can do to help.”

Walking away from the kitchen and towards the couch, she sat down before patting the seat beside her.  He stared at it a moment before easing down next to her.  “Try me,” she said with a cajoling smile.  “You won’t know if I can help until you tell me what mess you’re into.”

“I’ll tell you what I can.”

“For now,” she replied, “that’s good enough.”

But later, she would want to know more.  Later, when he was sleeping, she would drive into town, because there was only one way she was getting all the answers she needed.  As much as she hated to do it, as much as she wanted to stand on her own, she knew what she had to do.  She had to call her brothers. 

***Major thanks to Platypus1987 for the amazing banner on the side!***