Jeanie London - Love In Plain Sight

Vince must have been thinking the same thing. “Without you I would have never made it through school, so you’ll get perks as long as you want them because I appreciate everything you’ve done. Helping Courtney is just what the doctor orders.”

“Keep your perks to yourself, doc.” Marc shoved up from the table, leaning heavily on the cane. He was done.

Vince frowned. Their mother hovered behind him, patting his shoulder consolingly. She cut Damon dead with a sharp, “You better think twice before you open that mouth.”

Damon’s mouth snapped shut before he uttered a word, taking their mother’s advice for once.

This damned family. Marc was done with being at their mercy.

Levering his weight onto his cane, he stood. For one shining moment, he felt some semblance of control, empowered almost, as he stared down at everyone seated before him, waiting expectantly for his next move.

“Courtney,” he said, and met her surprised gaze. “You’ll provide a place to work and transportation.”

Her eyes widened, but she nodded.

“And pay my premium?”

She didn’t even blink. “Yes.”

Marc wasn’t surprised. She came from money. Otherwise she would wait for the FBI like most law-abiding citizens. He chased people like her—the ones with enough money to think rules didn’t apply to them. They broke laws, and if they were stupid enough to get caught, they had the means to try to escape paying the price.

Those were the skips he brought to justice.

This case would be different, but given his present circumstances...

Marc motioned to the door. “Then you’re on. Let’s go.”

He began his trek across the kitchen. He headed down the hallway and didn’t stop until he got to the front door. He didn’t need anything. Not his wallet. Not money. Not a damned house key.

The spare was kept under the porch swing if he needed to get in when his mother wasn’t home. Courtney could drive him if he did. His cell phone and painkillers were in his pocket.

All he needed was out of this house.

* * *

“GO, GO, GO!” Mama said urgently under her breath.

Courtney stood and reached for her plate, unsure. “That was coercion. You all were merciless.”

“Just another day in the DiLeo house.” Vince shrugged and dug his fork into the pasta.

“Better hurry or Gimpy might get away.” Anthony gestured that she follow.

“Leave the plate,” Mama commanded. “Go.”

So Courtney could face the resentful man who’d been bullied into helping her? Why had this seemed like a good idea again?

Hurrying from the kitchen, she saw the door wide open and Marc making his way across the yard. From behind, he could have been any one of his brothers, any one of the broad-shouldered, tawny-haired Italian boys with the big laughs and bear-hug welcomes.

Except for the cane. And the attitude. And the fact that she actually liked all the other DiLeo brothers.

Marc must have heard her approach because he said, “Can you get to your car?”

“I’m parked on the street.”

“The Mini Cooper, right?” His tone made it clear he wouldn’t have expected anything else.

She quickly realized he would have trouble getting in and out of her small vehicle with a leg that didn’t bend easily. Covering the distance between them, she set her hand on his arm to stop him.

They needed to clear things up here and now.

“Marc,” she began, but when he glanced at her, the whiskey eyes all the DiLeo boys had inherited from their mother belonged to a stranger.

How had she not realized he was even taller than Anthony? She had misjudged the distance because suddenly she was too close, had to tip her head back to meet his stormy gaze.

The impulse to retreat a step hit hard, but Courtney stood her ground. “Listen, that didn’t go the way I expected in there. You don’t have to help me. Not unless you’re willing.”

“You don’t want to pay me?” he asked in that dark voice, throaty yet somehow smooth like molasses.

“No, that’s not it. It’s not the money.”

Something flickered deep in his gaze. She might not know this man well, but she knew his brothers. Every one quick-witted and a bit of a ballbreaker in his own way. Marc was making her uncomfortable and didn’t mind.

What was it about this man, the one and only DiLeo she didn’t absolutely adore?

“I don’t understand why you need to be rude, Marc. I know your family coerced you. I was there, remember? And if you remember correctly, I wanted your opinion. I never asked you to do anything.”

“I don’t come cheap.”

“It has nothing to do with your fee.”

“Your call, then. Pay me for my time and provide chauffeur services to everywhere I need to go, or let me get back to my busy day.”

The everywhere I need to go made red flags fly. Did he mean everywhere he needed to go to discover what had happened to Araceli or did he mean everywhere everywhere he needed to go?

Courtney didn’t ask. Ironically, she probably had less to do with her days than he did. And the only thing she cared about was finding Araceli.

“Getting you where you need to go is no problem,” she said. “I’ll make arrangements for a different vehicle if we need to do a lot of running around.”

“We’ll need to do a lot of running around.”

“No problem.” He was only trying to provoke her. She knew it, but she didn’t want him to think he could push her around. As she faced Marc’s somber expression, she suddenly felt as if her very life depended on standing up to this man.

So she stood there, gaze unwavering, though the effort cost. Her chest grew tight, making her breaths come in shallow bursts, but she refused to look away, refused to blink, even though her neck felt as if it might snap from keeping her head tilted.

“We’re good then.” He was the first to break. “You’ve hired yourself a bounty hunter. For what that’s worth nowadays.”

That said a lot about why Marc had resisted.

“Thank you.” She meant it.

He leaned heavily on his cane and repositioned himself in the springy grass, and Courtney suspected she hadn’t won that little battle of wills at all. Marc had probably only needed to move his injured leg so he didn’t topple over.

His physical limitations were all too evident as he made his way to the car and braced himself with a hand on the door frame to lower himself into the passenger seat. She held the door, watched the muscles bulge in his arm. His jaw tensed as if he fought the pain of bending his knee to wedge his big body into the compact compartment.

She opened her mouth to tell him to use the seat release, but he was already there. The seat jumped back with a metallic spring, and his expression eased.

She didn’t know what to say, so she circled the car, leaving him to pull the door shut himself. She had only meant to consult with this man, to be advised about how to proceed. Now she had her very own bounty hunter, broken though he was, and she had no clue about what came next.

He sat so close, his elbow propped on her console, his hand draped casually on a knee. Somehow he managed to fill up her spacious-for-a-compact-car interior, and she wasn’t sure what to say or do.

Drive...that much was a given.

Cranking the car, she slipped the shift into gear, feeling flustered and off-kilter. Driving away from the curb, Courtney was determined to find her center and regain control. “So what kind of place do you need to work? Let’s start there.”

“Standard office setup. Wi-Fi. Printer. Fax.”

Okay, great. “One office coming up.”

He didn’t reply, just stared ahead, so she drove along in silence, remembering what Mama had said about being an answer to a prayer. What had Mama wished for this son?