“He’s not,” she said simply. “He’s kind and considerate and taking care of his sister, a widow who lost a child years ago.”
“Annnndnow he’s officially a saint.”
Before she could muster a response, the unmistakable chime of the front door alarm echoed through the house.
Her stomach dropped. “And not only that, he’s home.”
Peter arched a brow. “Should we hide?”
She snorted. “We should say hello. And…” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Play nice.”
“I won’t shoot him, but that’s all I’ll promise.” He gave her a wink and a nudge. “Come on. You can trust me.”
And that was one fact she’d never argue.
She walked to the top of the stairs, seeing Danny in the foyer below, sunglasses pushed up into his dark hair. He wore a crisp button-down and khakis—his meeting clothes, she knew from being around here frequently enough.
On most work days, it was board shorts and a faded New York Yankees T-shirt.
“I know you’re here, Viv.” He looked around. “I saw your…” His gaze moved up and met hers. “That looks like a woman who just found the perfect…whatever you wanted to buy.”
“Olive tree,” she said, sensing Peter coming to stand next to her.
“And you needed help,” Danny said. “You should have called me and I’d have rearranged my schedule.”
“It’s fine,” she said, starting down the stairs, her pulse racing more than it should when she reached the bottom and turned from one man to the other. “Danny, I believe you’ve met my friend, Peter McCarthy?”
She could have sworn Peter’s shoulders sank a millimeter at the word “friend.”
“Of course,” Danny said, extending his hand. “The detective.”
Peter shook the other man’s hand, no real smile evident but no scowl, either. “Beautiful home you have, Mr. Sullivan.”
“Just Danny,” he countered. “And thank you. It’s a work-in-progress under the keen eye of Vivien Lawson Designs. Can I offer you something to drink?”
“We’re fine,” Vivien said quickly, wanting nothing but to end this unexpected encounter.
“Can I see the tree?” he asked, his silver-blue gaze somehow more direct than usual. “You know I was iffy on a fake tree in Florida. Jury’s still out.”
“Go take a look,” she said, seizing the opportunity. “You go up and we’ll be out of here in no time.”
“No, no. Come with.” He put a hand on her back, then looked at Peter. “Feel free to grab a beer from the fridge, unless you’re, uh…on duty.”
Peter just looked at the man and Vivien could practically hear the words in his head.Feel free to duck if I decide to shoot.
But his dark eyes just glittered at the suggestion. “Pass and thank you. Viv, I’ll wait by your car.”
“No, no.” She looked from one to the other, wildly aware of Danny’s familiar hand on her back and the near snarl in Peter’s expression.
How did this happen? How did Vivien Lawson get in the middle of a big boys’ tug of war, the air crackling with tension?
She didn’t know, but she wasn’t going to go upstairs and flirt with Danny while Peter waited like her lackey. He deserved so much more than that.
“You go see the tree,” she said to Danny. “Text me if you hate it. I’ve taken up so much of Peter’s time today.” She added a smile that felt a little forced. “We’ll talk soon.”
With that, she slipped out of his touch and walked next to Peter. She saw the faintest glimmer in his eyes as they reached the door.
“Wait, Viv.” Danny called, making her slow her step and turn to him. She braced for the look of a man entirely used to getting what he wanted and not having the object of his attention walk away.
