“. . . and if nothing else, we have happy hour somewhere else while getting some exercise,” Grace concluded.

“I’m just happy to be out.” Erin had spent the greater part of the last two years of her life hiding from her past. In doing so, she isolated herself from social situations. Despite her best efforts, her abusive ex-husband had found her and attempted to end her life. The man damn near succeeded, but in the end, it was her ex that found himself on the wrong end of a gun. Unfortunately, it was Erin who had squeezed the trigger. She was in therapy and working through her demons. Thankfully, she had Matt at her side.

Grace loved her brothers. Matt was one of the good guys.

When Erin’s therapist had suggested she join social clubs to keep busy and find where she fit in her new world, Grace had suggested bowling.

Everyone jumped at it.

While the clock ticked down their five minutes of practice before they started their game, Grace picked up her ball and pictured where she wanted it to land on the lane.

“You were in a league before?” Erin asked as the ball left Grace’s hand.

Five pins fell.

Grace rolled her shoulders and stood aside for Erin to practice while the pins were reloaded.

“In college. I played for two seasons. Even came away with a third place trophy.”

Erin’s ball ended up in the gutter. “Ugh.”

“It’s okay. We’re just starting.”

Grace stepped up again, lifted the ball to her chest, and remembered some of her tricks. Palm up. This time the ball hit the head pin and knocked down nine of them.

Erin’s turn had three pins falling over.

“The guys are going to depend on muscle. We’re going to out skill them.” Grace shifted her feet a tiny bit to the left and aimed for the right side of the head pin.

When all ten pins fell with a satisfying roar, she did a little happy dance. “Sweet.”

Erin smiled. “I’m glad I’m on your team.”

“I love besting my brothers.”

“Looks like you’re off to a good start,” Erin said.

Grace watched while Erin threw the ball. When it ended up in the gutter, Grace moved beside her and lifted her hand, palm to the ceiling. “You’re crossing your body when you toss the ball. Start by holding your ball palm up, and just try and hit the second arrow on the lane.”

“There’s arrows?”

Grace pointed out the spot and waited while Erin threw another ball.

Six pins down.

“That’s better.”

Erin turned back to her with a huge grin.

As their practice session ended and their game began, they kept talking. “Guess who called me,” Grace said.

Erin sat at the table waiting for her turn. “Does his name start with a D?”

Grace nodded. “The guy is ballsy.”

“I have a feeling he’ll be calling your office a lot. Mr. Double-Squeezer.”

That had her laughing while she waited for her ball to return. “He didn’t call the office.”

“Wait, you gave him your cell number?”

Grace went into him calling via Facebook. Sure enough, Erin called him a stalker.

“I think he’s determined and resourceful,” Grace countered.

She left one pin standing and sat down for Erin’s turn.

“All the qualities of a stalker.”

Grace paused. “Am I that hard up for male attention I’m ignoring the obvious with this guy?”

“You haven’t exactly been dating in the last six months.”

“I’ve been concentrating on my work.” And avoiding the male species altogether.

When Erin finished her turn, she sat down and picked up her cell phone. “What’s this guy’s name again?”

“Dameon Locke.”

While she looked up the man on the internet, Grace took her turn.

“Ohhh! He is really good-looking.”

Nine pins down. “I know. It’s unnerving.”

Erin leaned back and read up on him. “Pretty successful for thirty-five.”

“I know. The land his company purchased is not a tiny lot.”

“Did you look him up?” Erin asked, waving the phone in the air.

“I didn’t have to. His business profile is sitting on my desk.” She turned back to the lone pin and concentrated hard. It fell with one solid plop.

Erin didn’t move. “Never married . . .”

“What about a girlfriend?” Grace asked.

“I’m looking.”

Grace hadn’t gone that far. Refused to for fear of what she’d find. “You do that, I’ll get us a couple of beers.”

“M’kay.”

The bar was packed and it took forever. When she returned, Erin was deep into whatever she was reading. She glanced up and patted her hand on the table. “Listen to this. Locke Enterprises is only six years old. Which means Stalker Man started it when he was twenty-nine.”

“Ballsy. I told you.” Grace sat and drank the foam off her beer.

“Before that he was a general contractor. I found an article where he credits his father for his success.”

She leaned forward. “Did his dad have money?”

Erin shook her head. “I can’t find anything about him.”

“Anything about a girlfriend?”

“Nothin’. The guy is virtually off the grid. Very few articles.”

“That’s good.” And it was. The man obviously had means but didn’t go out of his way to flaunt it.

“Oh, that’s interesting.” Erin kept reading.

“What?” Grace moved around to the other side of the table so she could see what Erin was oh-ing over.

“Looks like Locke had some seed money early on and recently that bank account expired.”

Grace looked at Erin’s phone and took it from her hands. An image of Dameon next to another man in a suit posing for a photograph at what looked like some kind of cocktail party. “Wonder what happened.”

“Lots of businesses begin with investors. Often more than one. They tend to be on a board of some sort that has some say in the company. If this Dameon of yours parted ways from his extra cash flow, it means one of two things: there was trouble, or Stalker Man no longer needs the other company’s money.”

Grace skimmed the article. “What do you think it was?”

“I don’t know. What I do know is the next couple years will determine if Locke Enterprises can do it alone.”

She lowered the phone and looked at Erin. “You know a lot about this stuff.”

Erin shrugged. “This is my father’s life. I guess some of the conversations I overheard during the years stuck.”

Grace couldn’t help but think that Dameon needed everything for his latest project to get off the ground. And quickly.

And that made her question his motives for flirting with her even more.

“Maybe you have it right. He’s a stalker.” She handed the phone back to Erin and stood. “Whose turn is it?”

The bed dipped with the weight of someone sitting on the edge. A hand reached out and touched her leg. “Honey?”

Grace opened her eyes. It was late, or really early. The sun wasn’t up. “What’s wrong?” She was in her childhood bedroom that had been converted into a guest room.