by Jenna Harte
“Thank you.” Mitch shook their hands again.
He made his way to the elevators and Patrick’s room.
“Hold on.” The voice came through the door when Mitch knocked.
The door opened. Patrick had a cell phone in one hand and waved Mitch in without a look at him. Mitch wondered if Patrick was expecting room service. He followed Patrick into the room.
“I’ll call her, but I can’t until you let me off the phone.” Patrick stood by the window, looking out over Pennsylvania Avenue. “Yes. I’ll call you later. I have go, Julia.” He flipped off the phone and paused, taking a breath before turning. Mitch wondered if that was one of his psych techniques. His shrink had recommended breathing exercises after he came home from Iraq.
“You’re not room service.”
“No.”
Patrick eyes narrowed and then grew concerned. “You’re Mitch. Oh, God, Sydney. Is she okay?”
Mitch scrutinized Patrick. His emotions appeared genuine, but maybe psychiatrists were masters of controlling and even faking their responses. After all, they were experts at understanding people.
“Sydney is fine. I take it that was your sister?”
Patrick nodded. “She spoke with Sydney earlier. She wants me to go back there to protect her.”
“I’m protecting her.”
One of Patrick’s groomed brows rose, making Mitch realize his statement was a little too forceful.
“I see. If that’s the case, why are you here?” As the last words left his lips, understanding crossed Patrick’s features. He blew out a breath. “Why don’t we sit?”
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“I went through this before, the last time Sydney was attacked. I understand the police look at all the men in her life. I suppose I’m high on the list since I was just with her.”
Mitch had to give him credit. He understood the situation well. Mitch opted to stand while Patrick sat.
“Where were you yesterday between two and three?”
There was a pause.
“I know where you weren’t. You weren’t in the juvenile justice session as you told Doctor Faye last night.”
“You’ve been busy this morning.” He extended his arm across the back of the couch. “I had a lot on my mind, so I skipped the afternoon session.”
“Where did you go?”
Patrick’s gaze drifted to his hand as it picked a piece of lint off the back of the couch. Finally he turned his attention forward. “Around.”
“Did you walk?”
“I drove.”
The hairs on his neck rose again. “Did that drive take you back to Charlotte Tavern?”
“No. I drove around Washington. I think I may have ended up in Maryland. I don’t know the area well.”
“Did you stop anywhere? Buy anything?”
Patrick laughed derisively. “I have no alibi, Mitch. Or should I be calling you detective? I can tell you that I’d never hurt Sydney. She’s one of my closest friends.”
“You were more than friends in the past.” Mitch steeled himself for this part of the discussion.
“Yes. We dated in high school.”
“And—”
“Is this relevant or are you fishing for personal reasons?”
“Someone in New York attacked Sydney. Then someone attacked a good friend of mine in Charlotte Tavern, thinking she was Sydney. Interestingly enough, you were in both cities each time.”
The smugness left Patrick’s face. “Coincidence.”
Mitch snorted. “If we were talking about New York and Washington, D.C., maybe. But Charlotte Tavern?”
“Have you talked with Jagger Talbot? He was in both places, and he’s expressed an interest in Sydney.”
“How do you know that?”
“I saw them speaking in front of her home the other day. And she told me.”
Sydney told Patrick a lot. Had she told him the full nature of her reasons for moving to Charlotte Tavern? Knowing it was beyond the bounds of his job, he bit back the question. “That must bother you. Every time you have a chance to be with Sydney, another man gets in the way.”
“Jagger isn’t in the way.”
“But I am.” Mitch hadn’t planned to say that, so Patrick wasn’t the only one surprised by the comment. But he didn’t wait for Patrick to respond. “That’s why she’s in Charlotte Tavern. Because I’m there.”
“Yes.” Patrick’s piercing eyes studied Mitch, as if analyzing and assessing.
“I’m not a patient of yours.”
“You’re the one that brought it up.”
“Alright. I know that your families thought you and Sydney should end up together. I put a wrench in that, until her parents convinced her otherwise. Even then you couldn’t seal the deal. But you keep trying. After her last attack, she moved in with you so you could care for her—”
“Wait! You think I attacked her in New York so I could take care of her?”
“It nearly worked, didn’t it? She was in your home.” Mitch wanted to ask if she was in his bed but didn’t want to know the answer.
“But instead of making her see she should be with you, the incident had her reflecting on her life and what had happened with me. She moved to Charlotte Tavern, ruining your plans, so you tried again.” Mitch stopped as a new idea came to him “But this time it wasn’t about getting her back. This time you wanted to punish her. Kill her. You nearly did, only it was the wrong woman.”
Patrick’s head tilted to the side. If Mitch’s comments made him nervous, he didn’t show it. “Does she have a choice? She gave me the impression you weren’t interested. At least not in a relationship.” Patrick stiffened. “But you’re attracted to her. Is she now just another notch on your bedpost?” He bit out the words in disgust.
Not yet. He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to think about Sydney naked.
“It doesn’t matter what’s going on with Sydney and me. What matters is that she’s still not with you. That must irk you.”
Patrick rolled his shoulders. “I’m over it.”
Mitch laughed derisively. There was no getting over Sydney. That much he knew.
“That’s what I was doing yesterday.”
“Driving around getting over Sydney?”
He nodded. “Look. I care for her and will always care for her. She and I could be happy, but she wants more. She wants passion, romance, and true love. She believes she had it with you, although I don’t think that’s true.”
“Why not?” Mitch scowled. What he’d had with Sydney had been special.
“First, you were both young, not fully developed. Especially you. Second, if it were the great love poets and romance authors write about, you’d still be together.”
Mitch tried to keep his face impassive and wiggled his fingers to keep them from forming into fists so Patrick wouldn’t know how much his words stuck in his craw. “So you don’t believe in great love. You’re willing to ‘settle’ with Sydney.”
“I don’t believe in fairy tales. A great marriage is about respect and trust and friendship. Sydney and I have that. But I see now she wants what I can’t give her. So, I took some time to process that and move on.”
“Process that?” He made it sound like paperwork.
“Then I came back here. Had dinner and spent the evening with a colleague.” Patrick’s tone suggested he and Doctor Faye engaged in more than dinner.
“Just like that. You’ve forgotten Sydney by spending the night in the arms of another woman.”
“Why’s that hard to believe? It’s the method you use.”
Mitch cursed under his breath. “Did it work?”
Patrick sat back, his eyes scrutinizing Mitch. “You’re still in love with her.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Yes. It worked for me. But I can see it doesn’t for you.”
Mitch didn’t believe him. He knew firsthand that it didn’t matter how many women there were, none were like S
ydney.
“Are you really going to continue to punish her when it’s clear you’re not over her? Or is it something more? Perhaps your experience being a soldier has altered your outlook on life? Made you less giving of yourself.”
Mitch knew Patrick’s questions had veered into a head-shrinking session. Mitch had no problem with therapy. He’d certainly had his share of it before his discharge and even a little bit once he returned to Charlotte Tavern. But while therapy helped him cope, it didn’t fix anything. It didn’t change the fact that he and Brian were betrayed by their commanding officer. It didn’t change the fact that his best friend died in his arms in the middle of a desert a million miles from home. And it certainly didn’t change the fact that Sydney had allowed herself to be persuaded out of their happily ever after.
He wasn’t about to share his demons with Patrick. “Do you know of anyone who would target Sydney?”
Patrick gave him another long analyzing stare then shrugged. “No one specific. I told you about Jagger.”
“What about the doctor from Jordan?”
“So she told you about that?” Patrick shook his head. “I don’t know anything about him. Although, I did express concern to her when he showed up. The fact that the police haven’t arrested him suggests he didn’t do it.”
“No, it only suggests there isn’t evidence.” Mitch remembered Detective Fletcher’s comment that the doctor’s alibi was soft. Patrick’s alibi for yesterday was even softer, which meant he remained on the list, right next to Jagger.
A knock on the door had Patrick rising. “My lunch.”
“Eating alone?” It was snarky, and Mitch hated that the situation brought it out of him.
“I’m leading the next session, and I like a little solitude to focus my mind.”
“That’s my cue to go. If you think of anything, let me know.” Mitch handed him his card.
“Of course. I assume I can tell my sister Sydney is safe in your protection.”
“Of course.”
Mitch opened the door and moved aside for the room service waiter before stepping out.
“Think about what I said, Mitch.”
Patrick had said a lot, but Mitch decided he was talking about his feelings for Sydney. He gave a nod and headed toward the elevator.
It took him forty-five minutes to get out of Washington, D.C. He was in Virginia, but traffic was moving so slowly, he could pitch a sign and open a used car lot. It was still early afternoon, but there was no telling when he’d approach anything near the speed limit, which made it difficult to predict how long before he’d make it back.
The lull gave him the opportunity to call and check in with Sydney.
“Whew! You just caught me.”
“You okay?” His heart jumped at the breathlessness in her voice.
“I’m fine. I was just getting back from checking on a patient in the clinic and had to run up the hall when I heard my phone ringing.”
“You didn’t bring your phone with you?”
“I was in a rush to get to the hospital and left it here.”
“Don’t do that.” His voice was terser than it needed to be, but it was dangerous to be without a phone when someone wanted to kill her.
“I’m okay, Mitch.”
He couldn’t tell if she was resigned or annoyed.
“Did you learn anything in Washington?”
He scanned his mind for words that didn’t make him sound like a jealous lover. “Patrick’s alibi is weak.”
“He said you’d say so.”
“So he called?”
“Yes. Just before I went to the hospital. He was angry I hadn’t told him about yesterday, but, of course, my mind was in a whirl.”
“And clouded by moonshine.”
“Yes, well, I didn’t mention that part. Julia called me today and I told her, so, of course, she had to contact him.”
“She wants him to drive down and protect you.” Mitch bit his lip, hoping she wouldn’t say she wanted Patrick.
“Yes, but I told him I’m fine.”
Mitch was dying to ask what Patrick had said about him, whether he’d shared all of their conversation or his “insights” into Mitch’s psyche.
“He was in Washington. Certainly there’s enough time accounted for to clear him. It’s several hours drive.”
“No. He skipped out after lunch and wasn’t seen until dinner. He says he was driving around.”
“Oh.”
He paused for her reply, but when she didn’t offer up any more information he sighed. “I’m stuck in traffic and don’t know when I’ll be back. Call me when you finish work and if I’m not available, call George.”
“Yes. I remember.”
The line was silent. Mitch knew what he wanted to ask, but by doing so, he’d be venturing into territory he’d vowed not to enter.
“Syd, that thing you said about being friends. Did you mean it?” Apparently his libido had other ideas.
“Yes.”
He took a deep breath. “Including the ‘with benefits’ part?”
The silence was long enough that he cursed himself for mishearing what she’d said.
“Yes.”
For the second time that day, he did a double take. His heart jerked, along with other parts of his body. His mouth went dry, making it impossible for him to speak.
“I’ll see you later then.”
Her voice didn’t sound seductive, but her words had the same effect on him as if she’d cooed them. The line went dead before he could respond, which was just as well, since nothing came to mind.
Chapter Twelve
Sydney looked through the side window as Mitch’s truck pulled into the drive. She’d been watching for him ever since he’d called to let her know he’d made it back to town and was turning in the police vehicle and picking up his truck.
Nerves skidded through her body at what might happen. She wanted to believe he was going to take her up on her offer, but she couldn’t be sure. When they’d been in college, he’d been so easy to read. Now she had no idea what he was thinking.
She’d been able to tell she’d surprised him by suggesting they could have an affair. Honestly, it surprised her as well. She’d never engaged in sex as something just for fun. The idea sent a titillating shiver through her body. She’d changed a great deal since she’d last seen Mitch. Having a torrid sexual affair seemed like it should be par for her new course.
The only problem would be to keep those sneaking emotions out of it. Those feeling were for the old Mitch. This new Mitch still heated her blood, but he wasn’t the same person. If they’d only just met, would she be interested in him? He was aloof and sometimes rude. But, if she looked hard enough in his emerald eyes, the old Mitch was there. Under the layers of hurt and guilt, the kind, generous, funny man was there. Maybe she could bring him out again.
“No, Sydney.” She shouldn’t get into this relationship, especially one based only on sex, with the hope of changing him. No, she needed to accept Mitch where he was. Be okay with the sex-only rules.
She heard voices out front and a quick look showed Mitch talking with George, who’d followed her home, checked Mitch’s house in and out for anyone lurking about, and told her he’d wait outside until Mitch returned. She offered to let him wait inside, but he’d declined.
George drove off and Mitch trotted up the steps to the door. Sydney scurried about, trying to decide what she should be doing. She didn’t want him to know she’d been sitting like a schoolgirl waiting for him to show.
She rushed to the kitchen, opening cupboards to give the appearance she was planning on making dinner.
The door opened. “Syd?”
“I’m in the kitchen.” She stood with her back to the kitchen doorway and took a deep breath.
He didn’t say anything, but the sparks of electricity snapping in the air clued her in that he was there. Slowly, she turned, her gaze meeting his. For a second, he stood still. She could see the war w
ith himself in his eyes: a mixture of desire and uncertainty.
A second later, Mitch pushed her against the counter, pinning her with his body. He was everywhere. His lips scorched hers, consuming them so fiercely she couldn’t breathe. Fingers threaded through her hair, tugging her head back so he could take the kiss deeper, hotter. His other hand slid under her shirt, sending delicious waves of pleasure straight to her center. He shifted and ground his hips against hers, the long, steel length of him proving how much he desired her. Her hand reached for him, wanting to feel his power. Her fingers slid over him. He wrenched his lips away with a groan.
“We shouldn’t do this.” His lips found new purchase on her neck as he ground his hardness against her hand. But it couldn’t push away his words.
She turned her head and pushed him away. “Stop.”
It took him a moment to register, but he stepped back, his hands lifted in surrender. “What’s wrong?”
She cocked her head to the side. “You just said we shouldn’t do this. If that’s the case, we need to stop.”
“Syd.” He let out a ragged breath. “You know I want to.”
“I want to too, but you said we shouldn’t.”
He shook his head. When he stepped to her, she lifted her hands to block him.
“If we both want it, why is it wrong?”
He swore and ran his fingers through his bronze waves. “I’m not the same man you knew in college.”
“And I’m not the same woman.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied him.
He looked down and then back up at her. “I can’t give you what you want. Not anymore.”
“And what do I want?” She asked, although she knew what he was saying.
He put his hands on his hips. “I don’t know. But I know you deserve more than I can give you. What we had, Syd. It’s long gone. And while I care for you and am attracted to you, I can’t commit to you.”
Her heart broke again. Even though she’d known his feelings all along, hearing him say the words nearly shattered her. But she wouldn’t let him know.
“I’m not a naive schoolgirl. I wasn’t a virgin when I met you, and I certainly haven’t been living like a nun since you left.” She liked seeing the flash of jealousy heat his eyes.