A short staircase led to the master bedroom and a single guest room. Rather than the bedroom level sitting directly atop the first, though, it was slightly offset and rested against the hill rising next to the house. A balcony overlooked the pool area just as she’d told him she wanted.

God, she’d been sixteen, well, almost seventeen. She’d been so young and he’d been older, establishing Rigor Construction with his friends and planning his future. And that future had included things she’d dreamed of as a young woman when she dreamed of Jazz Lancing.

“The house is beautiful,” she whispered as he led her through the large television room with its overstuffed couch, love seat, and recliners.

Next to the sliding glass doors and large pet door two Rottweilers watched suspiciously as four offspring hovered in excitement behind them. The black-and-tan canine family looked regal and far too playful all at once.

“Let’s get some coffee. Slade and Jessie are coming in behind us.” Jazz led her through the room. “You can meet the heathens later.”

The doorway into the kitchen was gated, the four-foot-tall metal gate latching securely to hold back rambunctious pups.

Stepping into the kitchen, she nearly gave herself away. Her insides were trembling, her throat tight with emotion at the sight of the beautiful chef’s kitchen. The gas stove and grill were set in the center of the room to allow the cook to socialize in the kitchen as well. Beside it was a prep sink while several feet from it sat the large country sink with its troughlike dark-bronze faucet.

Honey-oak cabinets filled the wall against the family room while large windows filled the other three walls. Marble countertops had ceramic tile on the walls above them in a soft cream with splashes of honey gold, soft bronze, and a hint of blue. The counters followed around the room beneath the windows behind the work island, stopping at the door that led to the porch outside. The rest of the kitchen was for dining, socializing, and relaxing.

Across from the work island was an exact replica of the huge dining set she’d grown up with in her parents’ home. The rich dark wood of the table, slightly rough, with only a thin protective layer of polyurethane. Eight chairs sat around it; a wooden bowl in the center of the table held a few apples, some pears, and they were real. The china cabinet, buffet cabinet, and padded bench were so familiar that it was hard to believe it wasn’t the same set.

Her chest was so tight she was surprised she could breathe. Emotion threatened to swamp her, to burn through her fragile control and leave her sobbing.

Why had he done this? It wasn’t out of some overwhelming love, she knew that. He’d been a friend, one who flirted back with her gently but never made a single pass at her. Not the first touch, not even a kiss.

“You okay?” Glancing over at her as he stepped behind the work island to the coffeepot, Jazz watched her in concern.

“This is the most beautiful kitchen I’ve ever seen, Jazz,” she whispered as she heard Slade and Jessie enter the kitchen behind her.

“And how he developed the taste to create such a gorgeous house and kitchen I haven’t figured out,” Jessie declared as she moved to the bar on the other side of the stove and grinned at Jazz teasingly. “His RV looks like it was thrown together. Nothing matches.”

“Troublemaker,” Jazz muttered in accusation as he pulled coffee cups from a nearby cabinet and set them next to the coffeemaker.

“I’m no troublemaker,” she argued, leaning against her husband as he moved behind the stool she sat on. “By the way, I picked out my pup. Can I take him home today?”

“They’re not weaned yet,” he answered instantly.

“I can have him when he’s weaned then?” Her eyes narrowed on him.

“I didn’t say that,” he growled as he measured coffee into the basket. “Stop harassing me, Jessie.”

“And stop trying to save Annie from the inquisition,” Slade told her firmly. “It’s not going to work. I’m sure Jazz is just as curious as I am about that little attempted hit-and-run in town.”

“I’ve already endured Jazz’s inquisition,” Kenni responded firmly before turning a demanding look on Jessie. “I don’t know how you expect me to know who it was? Like I told Jazz, everyone likes kindergarten teachers. It had to be an accident or drunk driver or something.”

Jessie’s expression slowly morphed to disbelief as Slade just stared back at her impassively. That wasn’t a comfortable look, either. Slade wasn’t buying her explanation, which meant Jazz wasn’t, either.

“Coffee.” The cup smacked against the counter in front of Slade as he moved to stand next to his wife.

Thankfully, her cup and Jessie’s were placed more gently in front of them, but his expression had once again become brooding. The look he gave her assured her he didn’t believe her explanation now any more than he had before.

“Jazz, you buying that?” Slade asked impassively.

“Oh yeah, Slade, I do.” He nodded. “I believe in the tooth fairy, Santa Claus, and the Easter Bunny this year, too. Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty are good candidates as well, I think.”

Kenni rolled her eyes as she leaned against the counter next to Jessie. Even her friend didn’t believe her if that slow shake of her head and disappointed look were anything to go by.

“Annie, come on,” Jessie said softly, disbelief lingering in her expression. “I saw that car when it pulled out. Whoever was driving knew what they were doing. And I think you know they did.”

What now?

This wasn’t the Kin; no one was trying to force anything from her, or take anything from her. The obvious concern in Jessie, Slade, and even Jazz’s eyes as they watched her almost made her feel guilty for lying.

Almost.

She’d lost friends over the years. She’d found her uncle lying in his own blood, his face so beaten he was barely recognizable. Because he was trying to help her.

What would they do to Jessie? To her unborn baby?

She could never forgive herself if anything happened to Jessie or her baby because of her.

“Come on, I’ve been here two years. If someone wanted to hurt me then they had plenty of opportunity. Why wait?” It was a perfectly logical explanation.

Jazz and Slade’s expression hadn’t changed; if anything Jazz’s had darkened.

“Drink your coffee,” he said succinctly as he gestured to her cup then turned to Slade. “Let it go for now.”

Slade’s brows lifted in surprise before he gave a brief nod, a quirk of a smile at his lips. “I’ll do that, Jazz,” he agreed. “Just for now. But I think until we figure it out, I’ll keep Jessie at home for a while.”

“Slade…” Jessie’s angry objection was met with Slade’s heavy frown.

“Think about the baby, Jessie,” Slade said, his expression torn as he glanced back to Kenni. “Until we figure out the threat against Annie, then you’re in danger as well. And Jessie, losing you would kill me.”

The truth of that statement was clear in his voice, his expression. His love for Jessie was unwavering, soul-deep. And Kenni could feel the guilt searing her, tearing at her with serrated teeth.

“Jessie, listen to Slade,” Kenni told her friend before drawing in a deep breath. “Just until we see if there’s anything to their suspicions. That’s all.”

It was all she could do to force those words past her lips before turning to Jazz. “Would you take me home now? Please?”

His arms went across his broad chest, a cool smile curling at the corners of his lips.

“No, baby, you’re not going home right now,” he stated, pure, hard-core determination deepening his tone. “You’re staying right here until you and I get a chance to talk.”

Kenni stared into his eyes, the brilliant blue watching her intently, boring into hers as she fought to remain still beneath his look.

He wasn’t a man who dealt well with threats to his friends. She knew he saw her as more than a friend, but this was still uncalled for.