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stores that would have what he wanted, maybe even in stock. But he’d come here, and she should, she told herself, be more appreciative.

      Even if she suspected he had more in mind than just a proprietor-customer relationship.

      “There’s more where this came from,” he answered. “There’s always more.” He flashed that smile at her again. “I’m even paying my old man rent, how about that?”

      Well, that’s something, Kai thought, and pulled out a form to make the order. She made a call, found out the equipment was available for immediate shipment. When she had all the information, she marked down the amount paid, and signed the receipt.

      “Hey, look at that, I finally got your autograph!”

      She couldn’t help laughing at that. “I’ll call you when they come in. Shouldn’t be more than a couple of days.”

      “And don’t forget the phone number after,” he said, with what she supposed was his best effort at a leer.

      Max was always flirting with her, in a clumsy way she found odd and somewhat amusing, a reaction she guessed he wouldn’t be too happy about.

      Today’s riff, a Stephen Bruton favorite, sounded again. She looked over, and was relieved to see Jordy coming in. Apparently his father had decided against forbidding the boy to come here.

      Or he had, and Jordy was disobeying.

      She hoped it wasn’t that. Not only for Jordy’s sake but her own; she so did not want to be in the middle of that mess, with Wyatt Blake coming after her again, the way he had last week. She’d be happy never to see the man again.

      But somehow she didn’t think she was going to be that lucky.

      “You wanted to see me, sir?”

      John Hunt looked up and motioned Wyatt into the office.

      “Close the door, will you?”

      Uh-oh.

      Wyatt did as asked, but warily. John was normally the most approachable of bosses, genial and willing to listen, hence the usually open door.

      He stopped in front of the man’s desk, shaking his head at the offer of a seat; he hoped he wasn’t going to be there that long. Hoped as well this was just to catch up after the man’s recent business trip. Doubted he was that lucky.

      “I meant to tell you this before I left for the East Coast, but I’m afraid it slipped my mind. I’m still not sure if it means anything, but it might to you.”

      Truly wary now, Wyatt asked, “What?”

      “About a week before I left I got a phone call about you.”

      Wyatt went very still. “A phone call?”

      “From somebody else who owes you.”

      “That’s what they said?”

      John nodded. “They thought I might know where you were.”

      A week before. And John had been gone two weeks. He could have been already burned three weeks ago. His mind was racing as John studied him.

      “I told him I didn’t. Just like you asked.”

      “Thank you.”

      For all the good it would do. If whoever it was knew enough to call here, then he could find him. John was the only one who knew about his desire for secrecy; they’d decided early on it would make things worse rather than better if they asked everybody at Hunt Packing to keep him secret. Better just to give them nothing to talk about.

      But that didn’t help if you had people calling and asking about him directly.

      And back then, it had been merely a precaution. Now, this coupled with that emailed warning….

      “Wyatt—”

      His boss stopped when he shook his head. And let him go.

      Wyatt headed back to his cubicle. When he’d gotten tangled up in the mess John’s youngest daughter had gotten herself into, he’d been startled to learn the man’s business was headquartered so close to his old hometown. And been thankful she’d gone off to the big city to get herself in trouble; he’d been nowhere near ready to go home, for any reason.

      And now here he was, back again, hiding. Trying to keep his son out of the same kind of mess.

      Only now he was wondering if his own less-than-tidy past was going to follow them here.

      Wondering if anybody ever got to truly leave their past behind them.

       Chapter 5

      “Hey, kid,” Max said to Jordy.

      “Hi, Max!”

      The boy seemed thrilled that the older boy—Kai couldn’t think of Max any other way—had acknowledged him. Did more than just acknowledge him, even gave him a friendly, man-to-man-type slap on the shoulder.

      “Been practicing?” Max asked as Kai brought out the boxes containing his speakers and added them to the stack.

      Jordy lit up at Max’s attention. “Yeah! Kai let me play BeeGee the other day.”

      “Miss Kai,” Max said with a fair approximation of Old World charm, “is a generous soul.”

      “She’s the best,” Jordy said, so fervently it made Kai smile.

      “Thank you, Jordy,” she said.

      “Gonna play in a band someday, like she did?” Max asked, with every evidence of genuine interest in this boy at least ten years younger than he. His two buddies treated the boy like most guys their age would, with annoyance bordering on anger, but a few weeks ago Max had changed, started being nice to Jordy, at least around her.

      But it seemed different to her today.

       I hear there are some guys who hang out here, guys I don’t want my son around….

      Wyatt Blake, that was the difference. He’d unsettled her, made her suspicious.

      Even as she thought it, watching the two males talk as if they were of an age, she knew that wasn’t quite true. Because it was odd that Max had started to show up mostly in the afternoons, around the time Jordy always came in. Odder still that someone Max’s age, unless he was a relative, would even pretend such an interest in a kid so much younger. And she’d thought that even before Jordy’s father had come barreling into her life.

      So why hadn’t she told him? Why hadn’t she aimed him at Max, let him be the one to ferret out the true reason behind this unexpected kindness by someone who was, from what she’d heard outside the store, generally surly and rude most of the rest of the time?

       Because Wyatt Blake aggravated you?

      Because he had aggravated her. He had provoked the temper she’d worked hard to quash. She’d worked hard at it because she hated being a cliché, a redhead with a hot temper. And she’d managed to put a respectably long fuse on it, and then hide the matches, after years of effort.

      She hadn’t counted on a guy who brought his own lighter.

      She yanked herself out of unwelcome thoughts.

      “Your old man still giving you a hard time?” Max was asking.

      Jordy shot her a quick, sideways glance. “It never stops. Ask Kai. He was in here hassling her last week.”

      Max looked at her, his pierced right brow lifting. She shrugged. “He was here. But I can’t blame him for wanting to know where his son spends a lot of time.”

      Jordy’s eyes widened, she supposed at the unexpected defense of the man he hated. “He was a jerk!”

      There was the tiniest hint

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