Free No Turning Back by Helenkay Dimon Page A

Nanette.” That was all Sophie said. As if that answered anything.
    Declan was starting to wonder if there was something wrong with her. Like, escaped-from-somewhere wrong. “Our grandmother died three months ago.”
    Sophie didn’t even blink but her smile turned sad. “I know. I’m very sorry.”
    “And before that she didn’t have enough money to pay the mortgage, so how did she pay you?” Beck asked.
    Sophie met his harsh tone with a scowl. “Why so many questions?”
    The energy sparking off these two could light the house. Declan decided not to bring it up since Beck’s narrowed eyes suggested he was ready for battle and just looking to launch into a legal argument of some sort. That wouldn’t resolve anything, except sending Declan back to bed for a boredom nap.
    He appealed to Sophie since she appeared slightly less irrational than Beck. “What exactly did you do for our grandmother?”
    Sophie glanced at the bucket next to her sneakers. “Clean. She couldn’t do it by herself.”
    Instead of backing down, Beck stepped up, closing the distance between them and getting very close to breaking right into her personal space. “I’m noticing you didn’t answer the question about the money.”
    “Excuse me?” Her question came out in a kiss-my-ass tone Declan admired.
    The tension left Beck’s face. In a flash, all anger vanished. “Clarke Industries.”
    Declan wondered if the conversation could get any more confusing and doubted it. “Is that supposed to mean something?”
    “The checks.” Beck nodded. “Once per month but not for much.”
    That fast, all the tension sucked out of the room. One minute the pressure was enough to pop Declan’s ears and blow the roof. The next, the two of them had returned to their respective corners.
    “That’s me,” she said in a much softer voice.
    “Do you live in your car or something?” Beck closed one eye as if he were pulling up a memory from some file in his mind. “The check was for fifty dollars. The house is three stories.”
    The lines around her mouth eased and her face softened. “I actually helped out here more as a favor.”
    The look could only be described as gooey. Declan never understood how women could muster that expression at just the right time in a conversation to throw a man off stride but they all did it. It was as if little girls took a class in male-confusion or something.
    “Why?” he asked, ready for the conversation and quick glances between Beck and Sophie to end.
    “Maybe we could finish this when he gets dressed.” Her gaze lingered on Beck this time.
    For the first time, Declan realized this early-morning conversation didn’t have a required wardrobe. He wore sweats and a T-shirt, more because he’d planned to walk the grounds this morning than anything else. Beck, on the other hand, came downstairs in boxer briefs and a tee. The outfit didn’t leave much to the imagination, and unless Declan was misreading the situation, it caused the shock of pink on Sophie’s cheeks.
    “She’s talking about you.” Declan said to Beck.
    Beck looked down and when he lifted his head again a smile played on his lips. “I can hear fine in my underwear.”
    That was about as subtle as being hit in the face with a brick. “Beck, come on. Use that big brain of yours.”
    Sophie shifted so she faced Declan and gave Beck her back. “I liked Nanette. She was kind to me when I needed it. In return, I wanted to make her life a little easier. That’s all.”
    But that didn’t explain everything, and with all the allegations about Charlie and his money floating around, Declan needed to know the truth. “Who’s been paying you since she died?”
    “No one. I stopped coming around after a few weeks and only started again when I heard people were coming to work on the house.”
    “But now you want a check, right?” Beck asked from over her shoulder.
    Since Declan wasn’t in the mood for another interrogation and didn’t particularly