A Simple Twist of Fate by Helenkay Dimon Read Free Book Online Page B

talking about you?”
    Well, not when he put it that way. “Um . . .”
    He scoffed. Even gave her a women-are-so-tiresome half eye roll. “Yeah, because the Hanovers are so welcome around here that it’s easy for me to walk up to people and start talking.”
    The man had a point. The town’s hatred had died down to a whispered simmer, but there were those who hated the brothers just based on their name. Add in a mysterious woman coming in and out of town searching for Callen—Kristin something—and an FBI agent who kept asking questions, and some days the vibe at Shadow Hill bordered on cautious rather than comfortable.
    Still, Beck did pop up on her doorstep and wasn’t exactly offering a logical explanation. “But you said—”
    “I was guessing about the groceries.” He glanced to the right and did a double take. His gaze traveled over the bed and lingered there.
    “Uh, Beck?” She waved a hand in front of his face.
    He shook his head. Wiped his mouth. Did the whole guy-stuttering thing before he choked out a real sentence. “You gave Declan your contact information in case of emergencies. I used the expert detective skill of looking at the note he pinned to the bulletin board in the library.”
    Before Sophie could respond or even silently berate Declan, movement behind Beck’s shoulder grabbed her attention. She’d somehow gone from alone to a room full of partially rained-on men. That should be a good thing, but not really. “Tom?”
    Beck lowered his head and stared at her. “What the hell? You’ve forgotten my name in the last two seconds?”
    Tom stepped inside, holding an oversized pizza box and smiling like a loon. “I think she means me.”
    More company.
    Fantastic
.
    Beck’s mouth dropped open as he spun around. Tension thrummed off of him, spilling through the room. “Who the hell are you?”
    Her eyes widened at the sharp crack of his voice. So much for the guy who always had a reasonable, even if long-winded, temperament.
    She touched his arm and tried to drag him back around to face her. When that didn’t work, she shifted until she stood between them with a hand on both men.
    Her gaze stayed on the less rational one, and with some surprise she realized that was Beck. “What’s wrong with you?”
    Tom being Tom, he smiled, taking it all in and staying calm. “Tom Erikson.”
    Beck’s arms crossed over his chest. “And that means?”
    Testosterone pounded on her from every angle. Much more of this and they would all suffocate.
    “I answered your question,” Tom said.
    Tom, tall with silver-tinged blond hair and a rough voice that made her feel safe. They bonded the second he agreed to give her a month-to-month rental for almost nothing. He functioned as sounding board and mentor. He’d become a friend. He looked years younger than he was and he should be on a date with the hostess from the restaurant they went to last weekend, which made Sophie wonder why he was standing in her house holding food.
    Beck shifted. It was as if his body swelled to twice its size. She knew that was some sort of optical illusion or result of the madness chewing away at her brain, but still.
    “Are you her father, uncle or just a guy passing by with a pizza?” he asked.
    Tom’s amused expression slipped that time. “Did you say father?”
    Okay, enough of this
. “He’s my landlord.”
    Beck blinked. “What?”
    “I pay him rent.” Barely, but telling Beck that part would only lead to a long list of questions she didn’t want to answer.
    His eyes narrowed and his head snapped back as if she’d smacked him, which was starting to be a distinct possibility. “Really?”
    “Yes, Beck. Really.”
    His gaze went to the box then Tom before returning to her. “And he brings you dinner.”
    Not ever. “Apparently.”
    This—whatever “this” was—made her stomach clench. She wasn’t expecting either man tonight and had a very different reaction to seeing each. But right now, a little