She wouldn’t be answering for herself. It’d be for the next woman Boston felt beneath. She wouldn’t wear a bra or own a single pair of nude pantyhose. She wouldn’t have a closet full of sensible pumps and modest heels. She wouldn’t have a plain face with plain eyes and plain hair.
She’d act like Emily and look like Jordan.
“Yes.” It came out a half-choked whisper. Emily cleared her throat and tried again. “I believe so. I mean, I like to think there’d be no comparison between us when it came to, uh, you know. Love. One would hope, anyway, right? That warmth and heat would be enough for anyone to overlook the differences on the surface.”
She finally returned his gaze and did her best to not pretend his obvious deep interest in the answer had anything to do with her. “I’d try.”
* * * *
Boston sipped coffee from his spot on the floor, his legs crossed at the ankles and his long hair in disarray.
“I’d have fit better on the love seat.” Emily studied him over the rim of her mug.
His small, kind smile did funny things to her stomach. “We’re nearly the same height. How do you figure? Besides, I’m a jerk, but I don’t tell a lady to sleep on the couch.” He absently scratched the side of his nose with his forefinger. “You had something to tell me about Ryder. Never did get around to asking about it. Wanna tell me now before we head back to The Canopy?”
Funny she’d forgotten to share her news, yet it had seemed of such paramount importance when she begged Boston’s home address from Hani rather than waiting till the next day. And here it was, the next morning.
She puffed out her cheeks. “I’m tired of waiting for something to happen. For Ryder to tell me what he really wants with Kale, for Kale to show up and tell us why he disappeared. So, I played my hand last night. Well, sort of. I tested Ryder, and he failed.”
Boston narrowed his eyes. “You tested him?”
“I’ve helped Quinn research a book or two. I bluffed and he showed his cards. During dinner last night, I suggested we get the authorities involved. I figured if Ryder wanted to protect his cousin from the Army, he’d be against it. If he planned on turning him over anyway, he’d have no objections.”
“What was his reaction?”
“Ryder lost it. He became so upset by the idea I ended up leaving before dessert made it to the table. He has no desire to draw attention to Kale and, given how angry I made him with the mere suggestion of it, I’m fairly certain he’s not Kale’s cousin. I expected a refusal based on fear for Kale, but anger?”
Boston sighed and ran a hand through his hair only for his fingers to get caught in a tangle. “Hani and I came to the same conclusion a while ago. Kale owes someone money. We think Ryder’s the collector.”
Emily bit her lip. “There’s something else I sort of neglected to mention. To be fair, I wanted to make the discovery on my own. Though, had I known about Kale’s debt sooner”—she gave Boston a pointed glare—“I might’ve come clean a while ago, and we’d have figured out Ryder before now.”
Boston waited. He sipped his coffee and watched her.
“Ryder has money. Like, real money. He didn’t need to be bailed out, and he certainly doesn’t need The Canopy to feed and shelter him. I’m sure he only let you do it so he’d have a connection to The Canopy and a handy reason to stick around in case Kale showed up. He’s the one who pays for dinner when we go out. In fact, he paid my rent on the apartment so I’d stay, thus keeping you nearby. But it worked both ways. I knew if I told you about the money you’d send him away, and we’d have no way of keeping tabs or figuring out his motives.”
Boston scrambled to his feet. Coffee sloshed over the rim of his mug and onto the carpet. Emily couldn’t tell the new spot apart from any of the old ones on the dingy carpet. He’d tugged yesterday’s gray ribbed tank top over his head by the time she’d gained her feet. “Stay if you want. I need to talk to Hani. I wish you’d have said something sooner, but you’re right. I could’ve done the same. I was just trying to keep you… I don’t know. Less involved.” He grinned at her as he slipped his feet into a pair of brown cracked leather flip-flops. “Some vacation, huh?”
She wrapped both hands around her mug and shrugged. “Quinn’s probably going to turn it into a book. I guess it’s worth it to be immortalized.”
“Tell her she’s welcome to change my name.”
“But it’s the most interesting thing about your character.”
He took it on the chin, mirth flashing in his eyes. “Finish your coffee. I’ll see you at The Canopy later.” He strode straight for her and, in the instant before his arms came around her, he stopped. A bewildered expression crossed his features, and he took a hurried step backward. His cool façade slipped back into place. He reached up and tugged the same loose curl he always did with a shy smile. “I guess I thought I needed a hug.”
She found Mr. Don’t Care’s sudden awkwardness adorable. “Well, if you need one.”
His baby blue gaze scoured her body, still clad in yesterday’s clothes. “Nah, I’m a big boy.”
He turned away and missed the heat rushing up to suffuse her face. Of course he didn’t want a hug from her. If a stick like Jordan turned him on, Emily had to seem like a walrus by comparison.
He glanced back with a quick wave while his other hand worked to tie back his unwashed hair before disappearing through the doorway.
Emily tugged on a strand of her own hair, the same lock Boston found so interesting. At least one of them ought to start the day clean. She gathered her purse and hoped no one spotted her leaving Boston’s place wearing last night’s dress.
She paused at the door, unsure of whether Boston bothered locking the place. She eyeballed the apartment a final time. He didn’t have anything worth climbing the stairs for.
“Don’t bother.”
Emily whipped around at the voice.
Today, Jordan wore a searing hot pink halter top and a silver nose ring Emily hadn’t noticed before. Maybe she coped with her desire to drink by stabbing holes in various body parts. “He never locks up. Nothing to steal.”
Emily ignored her first instinct to lock the door and gave Jordan the benefit of the doubt. Last night, she’d come to Boston for help, rather than trying to shove a bottle of gin down his throat.
“Thanks.” She closed the door and slid past Jordan. With a hand on the splintering rail, she made her way down the steps, which she had less faith in upon seeing them in daylight.
Jordan followed behind her.
Emily had expected her to. She started toward The Canopy in perfect silence. If Jordan had something to say, she’d have to break the ice.
Jordan caught up to walk beside her. Her voice held a quiet, wistful tone when she finally spoke. “We used to laugh at how we both have locations for names.”
“Contrary to what you may believe, I don’t care.”
Jordan ignored her and laughed as if to herself. “We’d lie in bed together and say we were going places.”
If Emily and Boston were really dating, she’d probably be offended by the story. Turn on Jordan, point an angry finger in her face, and say something rude. Emily chose to keep her cool and her long stride. “Adorable. Makes me wish my name was Savannah. Or Kansas.” She grimaced. “Or not.”
Jordan surprised her by stopping her with a hand on her shoulder. “Hey. Can we talk for a minute?”
Emily whirled around without bothering to hide her impatience. “We’re talking now. If something’s on your mind, spit it out.” Third time she’d had to ask people to say what was on their minds. Why did everyone have such trouble being direct?
“I mean really talk, Emily. Sit on a bench or something and have an actual conversation.”
“Are you at least going to move past stories of your pet games with Boston?”
Jordan groaned and rolled her big green eyes. “Gaaaah, yes. I was messing with you.” She shook her head. “Man, Bost
on has come a long way if he can deal with you. Seriously, I imagine you two playing doctor, but instead of a sexy nurse costume you’re wearing an actual lab coat and stethoscope. Then you purse your lips and say something titillating like, ‘Come here, you dirty boy. Let’s talk about your overdue prostate exam.’”
Nothing—absolutely nothing—appealed less to Emily than a heart-to-heart with the train wreck standing in front of her. “What do you want, Jordan?”
She pointed to a brick storefront across the street. “To go to the deli and have coffee with you.”
Emily didn’t have much of an appetite until she realized subs didn’t come with rice. “Fine.” She eyed Jordan’s prominent hipbones and bony shoulders on display in her skimpy outfit. “But you have to eat something.”
Jordan scoffed and checked for traffic. “I’m counting on it, honey. I’ll take the biggest, meatiest thing on the menu. Don’t skimp on the veg. Oh, and a soda. Chips, too. They don’t tell you this when you quit drinking, but your body cries out for those missing calories. I’ve been starving for weeks.”
Emily refrained from giving her frail body another examination and held open the glass door. “I can see that.”
Over six-inch hoagies, they came to a sort of unspoken agreement. Or, rather, they were too busy stuffing their faces to bother with snubs.
Emily couldn’t wait for the real conversation to start. Halfway through her sandwich, she took the initiative. “Well, here we are. I do have plans later, so if you wouldn’t mind getting on with it.”
Jordan spoke around a wad of plain white bread, real classy like. “Sorry if I’m not eager. None of this is exactly easy to talk about. At least, not sober. It’s been some time since I tried it.” She swallowed and sat back with one hand on her belly.
Emily glowed with pride at the slight swell from their meal. She picked through her bag of chips for an unbroken one. “I assume this is about Boston and his past. I hate to kill your enthusiasm, but he’s told me most of it. And some of yours.”
Jordan paused in the act of taking another massive bite. It only lasted a second. “He tell you about his job?”
“You mean his position as a respected high school English teacher you helped him lose? Of course. C’mon, Jordan. I know your game. Scare me away with tales of what a terrible human being Boston used to be. Hurry up, though. Breakfast is almost over.”
“I’m not trying to scare you.” Jordan dropped her sub onto the crinkled wrapper and struggled to sit up from her slouched position. “I’m glad he was honest with you, and I’m impressed you didn’t bail like the last one did. You straight-laced types can be so goddamn rigid. I have a brother like you.”
“Phillip.”
“Ah. Boston has told you quite a bit. In case he neglected to add it, Phillip is a prig who won’t help me out.”
Emily lifted a shoulder. Whatever pity she’d mustered for Jordan hadn’t stuck around. “I’m not sympathetic, myself. Boston’s moved on, which is something to be applauded. Years ago, in fact. Why should I hold his past against him?”
“Why hold it against me?”
Emily leaned toward her. “Because you’re his downfall, not the booze. You said it yourself. If you cared about him and the life he’s worked to rebuild, you’d walk away before you destroyed it.”
Jordan’s spine reasserted itself. Her emerald gaze bore into Emily’s. “Boston and I have a bond. He’s my drug as much as I’m his.”
“That’s the problem.”
“No.” Jordan shook her head, blond tips swinging. “No, it’s the cure. Together and high, we’re a mess. Together and sober? We’ve never tried. We’ll be stronger. We’ll make it. Our relationship will make it.”
Either she was right or delusional. Emily sighed and tossed the chip bag onto her crumpled napkin. “I don’t get it. Why’d you leave him, over and over, if you two have such an incredible, lasting bond? It kills him.”
Jordan’s stare dropped to the table. “There aren’t a lot of people I talk to. Not about this.” She inhaled deeply and, with sudden sympathy, put a scrawny hand on Emily’s arm. “Boston cares about you. He truly does.”
Emily’s heart skipped a beat. Again, she kept her cool and remembered Jordan thought she and Boston were having a fling. It wouldn’t do for her to act surprised to learn Boston had affection for her. She adopted a bored tone. “Oh, yeah?”
“I overheard him talking to Hani last night before I followed him home. But neither one of you are thinking about the future. When you leave, you think he’ll keep turning me away? For how long? Or worse, something happens. Something much worse.” Slowly, she pulled her hand back and regarded Emily, grief-stricken. “He’ll do what he does when I leave.”
Emily’s eyebrows shot up at the absurd suggestion. “You’re saying Boston will get tanked in order to cope with my heart-wrenching departure to the mainland?”
“Precisely.”
Don’t laugh.
Oh, but it was hard. At this point, Boston would be glad to see her backside waddle right onto a runway ramp. “Your concern is touching. Really. I’m so glad you care, Jordan. However, I believe Boston and I will enjoy our little liaison like two mature adults. We’ve got no misconceptions. You’re confusing our affection for one another for blossoming love, but you can relax. Boston’s not going to fall into a pit of despair and start slamming vodka shots because my vacation’s over.” She couldn’t help herself. She chuckled as she gathered her trash. “I thought you had something pertinent to say. Still, it’s been nice to see you put some food down. Let’s call it a win-win.”
Jordan drew herself up and gave Emily a disdainful sneer as she pushed her chair back and rose at the same time Emily did. “Since you’re determined to stick around, you should probably know Boston gets violent when he drinks. The fights we had were volatile, Emily. If he does cave, you’d better be careful about confronting him. It won’t be pretty.” Her sneer turned into a taunting smile. “And another thing. The tattoo across his ribs? A hui hou.”
“I know the one.”
“It’s for me. Go ahead, ask him. Or has he already lied to you?”
Did it matter if Boston had been dishonest about the tattoo? He didn’t owe her anything. At any rate, she refused to give Jordan the upper hand. “Anything else?”
Jordan’s face grew mottled.
She must’ve really counted on throwing her off balance with her revelation of Boston’s supposed violent streak, but Emily wasn’t buying. Jordan’s stash of weapons were running thin, so the low blow that came next didn’t surprise Emily.
“Fine,” she spat. “You know what I really overheard at The Canopy? He’s only using you for your money, Little Miss Rich Bitch.” She laughed, a nasty mocking cackle. “You think he likes you?”
No, Boston didn’t like her. Not romantically, anyway. And Jordan… Well, Jordan was tiresome. “Five minutes ago you were trying to convince me he’s in love with me.” She made no attempt to hide her pity as she beheld Jordan in all her undone glory. “I knew about the money, too.”
She gathered her purse and stood toe-to-toe with Boston’s fuming ex-wife. Not so pretty with angry red splotches on her skin and a pinched mouth.
“Get help. Real help. I don’t know what you have to gain from worming yourself into Boston’s life, but I know one thing, honey, and that’s me. You can’t manipulate or intimidate me, Jordan. You rank somewhere between a misbehaving kid at a formal dinner and some jerk who double-parked in my spot at the office. And once I help Boston see you the way I do, he won’t have any trouble dealing with you long after I’m gone.”
Chapter 11
Boston struggled to concentrate on Hani’s voice, despite how it boomed like thunder in the small kitchen. All his effort had channeled into getting some kind of mental grasp on his weird almost-hug fiasco with Emily this morning.
He leaned against the counter, with his face buried in his hands, as Hani moved about th
e room in his usual routine. Water in the pot, pot to the stove, rice into the water once it hit a rolling boil. “It’s a good thing we put the word out Ryder’s been sniffing around. No wonder Kale ain’t come back.”
“Yeah,” Boston halfheartedly agreed. “But what else do we have?”
Besides a freak sense of sudden belonging compelling him to take Emily into his arms this morning, like the most natural thing in the world?
Hani’s shoulders fell as he stirred the rice and added a stingy pinch of salt. One would think salt would be cheap in a place where it literally filled the air, but everything came at a premium on an island. “Nothing, man. We got nothing. Maybe if we had a safe zone, like a secret meeting place.”
Boston stood straighter and peered at Hani. “Not a bad idea. Kale’s gotta have an ear on The Canopy, right? He knows Ryder’s here and it’s not safe. What if we spread word of a meeting place? I’ll be there to meet Kale if he shows. He ought to trust me.”
“What about Emily?”
What about Emily? Emily, whom he couldn’t hug for fear of tackling her and ripping her little sundress from her soft, pillow-y body?
Boston cleared his throat and wrested away the image. “She’ll come with me. Where else would she be?”
Hani’s eyebrows rose with deliberate innocence. “Perhaps keeping Ryder entertained and off the scent.”
The suggestion turned Boston cold. “No way. What if he catches on? We can’t put Em in harm’s way.”
His friend looked up from fiddling with the stove knob to give him a wicked grin. “Em? That’s cute. You two make a real sweet couple. You got that opposites attract thing happening. She’s calm and cool, you’re off-the-grid and unpredictable.”
Boston clapped Hani’s shoulder. “Right. Because calm, cool women love unpredictable guys who work in soup kitchens and have no future prospects. Forget a 401K or any of that crap.”
“I don’t know, man. She seems to like you pretty good. You’re an ass, so you should probably figure out what you’re doing right before you screw it up.”
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