Chapter 12
2 YEARS, 6 MONTHS AGO
I stuck my head in Brant’s office, his head popping up, hands furious on keys, un-pausing in cadence as he smiled. “This is a nice surprise.”
“Don’t get too excited yet,” I teased, walking around the desk, his fingers keying at a rate faster than humanly possible, his eyes glued to me, his mind capable of more simultaneous action than mine. “I’m kidnapping you.”
“Sounds…” He finished his typing, picking his hands up and swiveling his chair to face my approach, his hands reaching out and pulling me into his lap. “Interesting. Where are we going for this kidnapping?”
I shook my head. “Nope. I’m not telling you that. That’d ruin the fun. How much time do you need before we can go?” I glanced at his computer screens, three side-by-side monitors that each displayed file download progresses.
“I’m yours. Steal me away before Jillian reminds me about the budget meeting that starts in fourteen minutes.”
“Shoot.” I hopped off his lap, snagging my purse off the floor. “Then let me get you out of here.”
“You make me so bad,” he murmured, his eyes dark as he snagged me back for one last kiss.
“Oh yeah,” I giggled. “Skipping budget meetings. You can get fitted for your leather vest now. Stick with me and you’ll be going to bed without flossing. Getting really crazy.”
I pulled him around the desk, peeking out of his door with an exaggerated gesture before turning back and putting a finger to my lips. “Run on three,” I whispered. “One…two…” I opened the door and sprinted.
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“Here?” Brant looked out the window at the homes before us, my car settling into a spot out front. “I’ve been here before.”
“At the ribbon cutting. I know. I was there too. That didn’t count. Get out.” I opened my door and stepped out, taking a few steps back and snagging a stuffed unicorn off the lawn.
Brant’s door shut and I looked over to see him, his posture awkward, his eyes sweeping over the compound, five brick homes, a fenced yard connecting them, three kids clustered in the shade of an oak, a dog sniffing the edge of the fence and eyeing us as if wondering whether to attack. Brown eyes hit me and his tail started to wag. I stepped toward the gate and flipped the latch. Squeezed through and squatted, running my hands over the collie. “Hey Buster.” I ran him through his three tricks: sit, shake, and down, glancing over when Brant entered the yard and crouched to our level.
“Buster, huh?” He reached out a hand and tousled the collie’s head.
“Yep. Meet the most loved dog in the Greater Bay area.”
I heard the soft sound of steps seconds before a small body flung through the air, knocking my squatting self back into soft grass.
“Miz Lana!” Hannah, a six-year-old bundle of trouble, squealed as she squeezed my neck tightly enough to restrict air flow.
“Hey sweetie,” I gasped. “Let me up a minute so I can introduce you to someone.” I put a hand on the grass and hoisted us both to standing, flashing a smile at the two other kids, ones I’d never seen but would guess to be a few years older than Hannah, the close press of their bodies indicating a sibling familiarity verified by the twin shocks of red hair both possessed. I readjusted Hannah’s weight until she rested on my hip. “Hannah, this is my friend Mr. Brant.”
“Hi Mister Brant.” She reached a solemn hand out, a hand Brant shook with equal seriousness.
“Nice to meet you Hannah.” Brant’s eyes flipped to mine. Dark and intelligent.
