A Shattering Crime Read Online Free

sincerely for the hot cup of coffee he handed me.
    â€œLooks like you were having a nice chat with one of the men who pretended to shovel dirt,” I said before sending a little cool breath across the surface of the coffee.
    Tony’s grin flashed briefly and he leaned back against his desk, crossing his legs at the ankle. “Bennett,” he said before continuing in a slow, careful tone. “We’ve been in touch.”
    I waited, but he said no more. I risked a sip of the coffee then prompted him. “About?”
    His gaze met mine but only for a moment before skittering away. “About who he’s thinking of using for this project.”
    â€œI thought they already had a construction company lined up. I thought they’d be using the same group that’s been leveling the area.”
    But he shook his head, still slow and careful. “Demolition and construction are as different as they sound.”
    â€œSo,” I began, drawing out the O, choosing my words. “You’re looking to have them consider Stone Mountainfor the job?” I couldn’t say “hoping.” Not only did I not know if that was what he hoped, either for himself or for his construction company, but I also didn’t want to accidentally make it sound like I myself was eager for his company to get the job—because I wasn’t sure how I felt, and didn’t want to explore it either. And I certainly didn’t want to risk learning our feelings on the matter were, well, about a thousand feet apart.
    â€œTrying to get a feel for whether our bid has a shot,” he said. Again his gaze bounced off mine. He gripped the edge of the desk, put his weight into his hands for a moment. “Your mom and her husband on schedule to arrive tonight?”
    I blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in topic. “Um, yeah, last I heard.” I had told him as much via text message. Why the confirmation?
    â€œThey have plans while they’re here?” he asked.
    â€œThey’re just visiting as far as I know. Mom has some old friends she wants to catch up with.” I turned my head a bit, looked at him from the corner of my eyes. “Why the sudden interest?”
    His grip on the desk tightened, white showing across his knuckles. “What, uh, what would you say if I told you I’d like to meet them?”
    â€œWait. My . . . my mother?”
    Tony nodded. “I’d like to get to know her. And her husband.”
    â€œI barely know her husband.”
    He kept nodding. “And I’d like to spend more time with your grandfather, have a conversation that lasts longer than the latest pop music hit.”
    I hit the point beyond words and merely gaped at him.
    He stood and took a step toward me. “Georgia, I own my own company. I’ve never been divorced—or married. I pay my taxes, I eat right, and by current standards I believe I might be considered somewhat attractive.”
    Well, at least he didn’t say, “According to my ex-girlfriends, I’m hot.”
    â€œSo what it is that makes me not the kind of man you want to introduce to your family?”
    I took a breath, let it out in a sigh. The simple truth was such a cliché, I knew he would think I was lying. It wasn’t him. It was me. How was I supposed to find words to convey that and make him believe it?
    I made my voice gentle, patient. “Tony,” I said. “You know that I—”
    â€œIt’s because of my past, isn’t it?”
    â€œThat’s not—”
    â€œIt’s all right, Georgia. I understand. I understand your reluctance. Parents—or grandparents—are careful about who their daughter dates. And rightly so. But this is only a problem—”
    â€œRight. It’s only a problem if I make it one. But I’m not making it one. There’s—”
    The door swung open and a burly man wearing a scuffed blue hardhat