Just like the stars had no idea they were adored.
Lydia took a careful breath. Could she maintain friendship with a man like this? She had no doubt the physical part would remain strictly platonic. The heart, while a relatively simple organ, proved to be more complex in predicting emotional and romantic attachments.
Her eyes scanned his face, the slightly disheveled yet purposeful tousle to his hair, the laugh lines that stood out in stark contrast to his youth, the age around his eyes… handsome. But not for the reasons he thought.
Of course.
It was all so incredibly obvious. The universe had conspired in the silliest of ways to bring her into the life of a handsome man. A smuggler, a scoundrel, a pirate.
The adventure would begin here, if she chose to accept it. The perils unknown, the conditions abhorrently temporary. He wasn’t for her. He was for a star of some kind. A brilliant mass of galaxies perhaps. But not for her.
Her heart set anchor for the time being in the harbor of this moment.
Eyes open, facts laid bare.
“Friends then,” she said softly, the words sank into her skin, filling her with warmth.
Friends with a scoundrel.
“Friends,” he replied, the smile on his lips curving into more sincere waters.
She grinned. “Good. I would hate to have to break your heart.”
His eyebrows shot up and a startled laugh escaped him. “Break my heart? You sure about that?”
“Oh, beautiful boy, you really think you’re the only one with something amazing to offer.”
He blinked and his lips parted but no sound came out. She shook her head in mock disappointment, then waggled her eyebrows.
“I have to go. Plants to sing to, worlds to conquer.” She spun on her toes and headed swiftly for the front door. Had she stayed even three more seconds, she would have seen an expression cross his face impossible to label.
But his laugh followed her all the way to the stairs.
Chapter 5
Something Real
Remington
Remington ran his tongue over his teeth as he settled into the chair at Merrick’s right.
“How was your lunch yesterday?” Merrick asked, his lips barely moving, eyes on the papers in front of him.
Remington let his eyes drift through the other men exiting the conference room. “It was fine.”
This was the second and final meeting of the day and the first time Merrick had spoken to him directly.
Remington was surprised by Merrick’s behavior. If anything, he was acting as if Remington had done something to personally offend him. Which he hadn’t.
Not really.
“Does this mean you’re ready to tell me what she is to you?” Remington asked, blinking slowly, eyes connecting with Merrick’s on the upswing.
Merrick’s jaw jumped and his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. Not answering, he stood and gathered his things from the table. “The real concern is what is she to you?”
Remington arched one eyebrow and relaxed further in his chair, letting his long frame fully extend. “Just a new friend.”
“Right.”
Remington’s left eye twitched slightly, otherwise he didn’t move. Never had Merrick expressed any kind of disapproval for the way Remington conducted his personal life. Which was good, because it was honestly none of his business and this partnership wouldn’t be where it was if Remington felt judged at all by the other man.
“Something you wanna say?” Remington asked when the silence had stretched long enough.
Merrick glanced up at the empty conference room, his jaw working under his skin. He let out a short sniff thorough his nose, as if coming to some sort of internal decision.
“No.” Merrick took a calming breath and straightened his shoulders. “See you tomorrow.”
Remington watched Merrick go.
Unfortunately, Merrick’s stiff reservation over the past two days had left very little opening for Remington to ask for Lydia’s phone number.
He had no way of contacting her.
It frustrated him, but he also had other things in his life he was supposed to be focused on this week. The randomness of their recent encounters tugged at his consciousness. It had been a while since he’d felt this.
This being preoccupied. Determined. Curious.
The contradiction of who he thought she was to who he was now discovering made his mind light up in places it had been dormant for too long. Places he’d thought he’d outgrown.
***
Lydia
“Nope. It won’t fit that way. No! Don’t try to force it!”
Lydia closed her eyes and clenched both her hands into fists at her side.
Winter interns.
“What’s it like working for Merrick Jones?”
Lydia forced a swallow but kept her eyes on the young man she was attempting to teach how to change out the storm windows. She sighed internally, deciding it wasn’t worth it to correct the woman standing behind and to the right of her. Because she wasn’t technically wrong. But for some reason it was bothering her more and more the last few days that the world believed she worked for Merrick and not with Merrick.
But that was the nature of their bargain.
It hadn’t been a big deal before… well, before now.
“It has been a very beneficial employ,” she responded softly and winced when Reggie’s hand slipped and the window screen tore.
Lydia exhaled slowly. “It’s okay. I can fix it.”
Reggie looked about as sorrowful as a grad student could. She knew how he felt which is why she didn’t berate him for trying something he hadn’t done on his own yet.
“Is it true what they say?” Carly, the only other intern in the room asked.
“I have no idea. What do they say?” Lydia righted the overturned glass pane that thankfully hadn’t broken when Reggie’d dropped it.
“That Merrick Jones’ IQ is so high it can’t be measured and Elon Musk calls him for advice?”
Lydia was glad she wasn’t facing them because that was a new one and her smirk was involuntary. The rumors about Merrick grew every year. She shouldn’t be surprised anymore when she heard some of the crazy stuff being whispered about him.
“None of those things are true. I can assure you that Merrick Jones, while a brilliant mind in his field, is still a man — not a demigod.”
Carly’s shoulders sunk, her disappointment visible.
“You guys can take off for the weekend. I think I have everything here I need,” Lydia offered after a minute.
Reggie brightened, excited for the chance to have his Friday back to himself instead of spending it measuring soil acidity and humidity levels. Carly tilted her head and crossed her arms over her chest.
“You’re sure you know how to do all this?” she asked.
Lydia bit back her sarcastic retort and simply smiled. “Like it was my first job.”
The interns packed up their things and equipment and Lydia waved them off from the front porch.
Finally.
Some peace.
And time with her thoughts.
She gazed out over the valley below that opened and sloped upward again to be met with thick evergreens. All that beautiful space for all her thoughts.
Her phone rang in her pocket and she answered it with a smile.
“Merrick Jones, smartest man alive, as the story goes.”
“Lydia,” he greeted flatly.
She sighed and adjusted the phone to fit between her shoulder and ear as she used both hands to pick up one of the deck chairs and positioned it to face the west so she could watch the sun set.
“What’s up?”
Merrick didn’t answer her at first. He cleared his throat, hummed, shuffled the phone from one ear to the other.
Lydia sat down, slouching low in the chair and kicked her shoes free. She propped her heels on the wooden railing and wiggled her toes in the sunshine.
&
nbsp; The greenhouse really was a cabin. A beautiful A-frame built into a hill. The Institute had built an addition in the back that didn’t match the rest of the cabin but served as a perfect greenhouse. The main part of the house provided accommodation to any interns, lab techs, research assistants, or grad students while they completed their projects. It was a beautiful and helpful idea that Lydia and Merrick dreamed up way back when.
To have it not only come to fruition but become a staple in the way the Institute functioned was immensely gratifying.
The only time Lydia minded being assigned to the greenhouse was when other people were there. Because she had to toe the line of “Mr. Jones’ assistant” and there was a specific script and dress code for that.
But when the place was empty and it was just her…
It felt a lot like paradise.
“How have you been?” Merrick asked, sounding every bit as distracted as he could be.
“The first two days with Carly and Reggie were challenging,” she said with a smile. “But we made it. I sent them home just a little bit ago.”
“And you’re there alone?”
She frowned at his question. Not really the question itself, but the tone of it.
“Yes…” she answered slowly. “Unless I’m supposed to be expecting someone…”
“No,” he answered in rush. “Not at all. “
“What’s going on, Mer?” she asked suspiciously. “Have the meetings not gone…well?”
“They’ve gone fine. I’ve just been a bit distracted this week.” He chuckled forcibly. “You know the temps never keep my things as organized as you do.”
Okay, that was bullshit. Something was definitely up. Lydia frowned and tried in vain to read his thoughts through the phone.
“Your mum called me this morning.”
There it was.
The reticence, the distraction, the stiff dialogue — all of it clicked into place and Lydia wondered when she’d stopped guessing this reason first instead of allowing it to blindside her.
Naïvely she probably had truly held out hope that her mom would eventually calm down.
“Your home phone or the office?” she asked, ignoring how her throat tightened around the words.
“My home—”
“Shit. What did she want?” She pressed the fingers of her free hand to her forehead to stave off the blooming headache.
“To know why you weren’t answering your home phone and if you still had a job.”
“I’m sorry, Merrick,” she said with a heavy sigh.
“Why doesn’t she call your mobile?”
“Because it’s easy to lie. She only trusts me when it’s on a landline.”
Merrick grumbled under his breath. “You’re not a child anymore, Lydia. I’m not overly fond of her treating you like one.”
“Yeah, well…” Lydia trailed off because what was there to say? Eighteen months later and instead of her mom getting over the horrible emotional baggage thrust at her by Lydia’s father, it seemed to have tightened its anxious claws deeper in her psyche.
“I’ve probably made a mistake in dealing with all of this.”
“Further,” Merrick stated forcefully. “I’m not all right with you internalizing her psychosis. Her inability to seek professional help is not your responsibility.”
Always in black in white. How beautifully contrasted the world must appear to Merrick. Too bad Lydia lived in color.
“I know. That’s why I don’t go home. It’s also why I don’t jump through all her hoops. I have done what I’ve done because I see it as the best for everyone involved.”
Merrick sighed angrily. “And what about Remington? Where does he fit into your choices?”
Lydia’s shoulders stiffened in surprise. “What about Remington?”
“Are you… seeing him?”
It was a good thing they were on the phone because the smile on Lydia’s face would have only pissed Merrick off all the more.
“Not in the way you’re implying, Mer. But I think we might be becoming friends. Which, trust me, is just as shocking for me as it is for you.”
Again, Merrick grumbled. “It makes me uncomfortable.”
Lydia chuckled. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“He’s a tit.”
She barked a laugh at that one. “He’s your friend!”
“Yes, which means I would know.” Merrick’s tone softened as he continued. “Have you thought it through? What the complications are if you get involved with him?”
“Hmm, you mean with you and the Institute and my mom and my own inexplicable habits?”
He chuckled softly. “Yeah, all of that.”
“It’s the life I live, Mer. It might not make sense to everyone else. But it’s mine. I have been gifted with some amazing friends in my life who accept me and all the baggage I come with.”
Merrick hummed thoughtfully, accepting her response as truth. Mostly because he’d already had to live it with her.
“You know I think you’re awesome, right?” he said.
“I know.”
“And even though I think Rem is a tit… the benefits to the both of you having a connection would be immense.”
“Oh, really?” she asked, trying not to laugh. “Analyzed that scenario already for me?”
“Numerous times,” he confirmed. “While I don’t know how it will end, and end it must —”
“Of course.”
“It would be well worth it.”
Lydia, as amused as she was by Merrick’s very scientific approach to relationships, already knew nothing beyond friendship would ever develop between her and Remington Rohan.
For a lot of reasons.
But that wasn’t to say that the benefits of their friendship wouldn’t be just as wonderful.
These accidents in her life, the ones born of faith and nature, always left her more repaired than anyone would expect. All the things meant to break her, held her soul together with more than glue.
It was a delicate truth her father had chased, but never understood. He ran to outrun the darkness. Eventually it had caught him and taken him.
Lydia ran into the darkness. With her torch held high and her heart on fire.
The darkness ran from her.
Maybe, in another perfect life, she would find someone to run with.
***
Remington
“Guests are supposed to be announced.”
Remington jolted to a stop on the stairs leading up to Lydia’s apartment. The man at the landing below him shoved his glasses up his nose and crossed his arms.
Huh.
Remington tried not to make it too obvious as his eyes skated over the peeling and patchy paint on the walls, or the dim overhead lighting because one or two bulbs hadn’t been replaced yet. It didn’t really give off “guests must be announced” type of vibe.
“Are you security?” Remington asked, slowly taking one step back down.
The man with the glasses pulled his shoulders back and stuck out his chin. “What resident are you here for?”
Remington narrowed his eyes and licked his bottom lip. But he didn’t answer.
Glasses huffed and rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, brunette, loud, and dangerous?”
Remington couldn’t help it, he cracked a smile. He wouldn’t describe Lydia as loud or dangerous.
“Brunette, smart, sassy,” Remington returned with a smirk.
“You tell 4B she can’t be having men come and go at all hours. She knows the rules.”
“I’ll be sure to remind her,” Remington sighed and continued up the stairs. How many men were stopping by to see Lydia? So many that her neighbors were complaining? Remington shook his head. It didn’t matter to him. He was just her friend.
With the first knock on the door, it swung open.
“Larkin?” he asked as he stepped inside, the hairs standing up on the back of his neck.
Light singing reached his ears and he followed the
sound, his hairs going back to their regular place as he picked out the lyrics.
Led Zeppelin’s “Since I’ve Been Loving You.”
He stopped when he reached the open window to her balcony. If you could even call it that. A stone platform jutted out from the roof of the building and sloped down to the picture window in her living room. The glass of the window was removed and set against the wall. It was only a ten inch step up and out onto the platform.
Remington took that step and joined Lydia outside. Though she hadn’t noticed him yet.
Earbuds in, hair in a mess at the top of her head, jeans that had seen better days, and a wine-colored shirt with a band name on it he couldn’t read anymore because it had been rubbed off—she was bent over a small planter, crooning one of his favorite Led Zeppelin songs to the leaves.
Her body jolted and she sucked a breath when she caught sight of him.
“Newton’s second pair of knickers, you scared me,” she breathed out around a laugh.
Remington arched an eyebrow and lifted his chin to the plants before her. “Were you just singing to them?”
She glanced down and back up, not looking embarrassed in the least. “Don’t you sing to the things you love?”
He tilted his head at her question and she rolled her eyes. What a silly man he must seem to her. What kinds of things did she know and just kept right on treating him like he should know them too.
“Let’s go in, I made coffee.” She maneuvered round him like she’d done it a thousand times. He kept his footing on the narrow platform and watched her petite figure climb back into the window before he followed her.
“I have…” he shook his head and tried to find his thoughts. “So many questions.”
“Such as?”
“Do you get a lot of visitors?” He glanced back and forth between where she was pouring coffee in the small kitchen and the window.
“Not really.” She shrugged as she handed him a cup of black coffee. “Why?”
He took the cup. “Because the guy downstairs told me to remind you that guests must be announced. Is this regular or decaf?” Normally he wouldn’t feel the need to ask that question, but with this girl his expectations were all thrown off.
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