by Sarah Blair
“Seriously, though, what do I tell a guy when he asks what I do?” she wondered. “Oh, you’re an accountant? That’s cool. I’m a research assistant and office manager for a paranormal investigation agency. By the way, that monster you’re convinced is living under your bed? Probably real. Good luck sleeping tonight!”
Lines of laughter at the edge of Mitch’s eyes tightened into worry.
“Are you not happy anymore?” The good humor faded. “I thought you knew what kind of secrecy was involved when you joined the agency.”
“Of course I’m happy! I love the job,” Sidney insisted. “It’s engaging and challenging. But that doesn’t mean I don’t need to get laid.”
Something sparked in Mitch’s eyes and he focused out on the water while color tinged his cheeks. It was probably just the crisp breeze, though. And now her words were just hanging there between them.
Her nerves flared. Had she been pushing too hard to be a field agent? Maybe Mitch was thinking about just getting rid of her instead. You’re causing too much trouble, Sidney. Her grandfather’s voice echoed in her mind. Why did she have such a tough time following the rules?
“You can’t get rid of me anyway,” she added in a rush. “I’ve got such an intricate filing system, you’d never find anything. So, don’t even think about it.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” Mitch motioned to the remaining half-shell on the bed of ice between them. “Last one?”
“I’m good.” Sidney downed another swig of beer and stared out over the sparkling water.
A restless unease ran through her. Now she was sitting here with Mitch’s full attention and the opportunity to ask all the questions she’d been gnawing on since New Year’s. . . and even longer about her parents. But her courage to hear the answers suddenly faltered. Everything she kept locked up tight inside her head, struggled to break free like a caged beast. Once her mind traveled down that trail, it was tough to beat her way back again.
He watched her like he knew what she was thinking, and she hated how easy it was for him to see her. The monster from her past paced inside her mind, anxious and eager.
It wanted out.
Sidney bit down hard on her lip. If she spoke about it out loud, the fear, hurt, and anger would escape and this was not the time or place for that to happen. Instead, she struggled to wrangle the creature back under control.
Mitch drowned the last oyster in a pool of hot sauce, and her mind went to the photos of Peyton’s body. The beer and oysters rumbled in her stomach, so she focused on grounding herself, paying attention to what was in front of her right now. She smoothed her hands over the table cloth, pulling in a deep breath of seawater through her nose.
He threw his head back, and swallowed the oyster down. His throat bobbed, redirecting her attention from the things prowling through her mind.
The tie was gone, leaving the top button of his shirt was open. The edge of some gray curls peeked out along with a hint of pale skin. Sidney turned back to the river, but the barge drifting past didn’t invite her gaze the way the dip of his collarbone did. He turned the empty shell facedown on the bed of ice, reclining back. She’d never seen him so at ease before.
And she wasn’t the only one staring.
He studied her carefully, eyes roaming over her face, her lips, palpable as a physical touch. Her throat tightened and she tasted the salty seawater of the oysters on her lips. Something tangible passed between them, a buzz of energy and need, the vibrating current of electricity she’d felt on that midtown terrace as they counted down from ten and he’d leaned in to kiss her. The same spark she’d felt on the sidewalk an hour ago with her lips centimeters from his.
She’d thought her invitation was more than clear, but he still hadn’t closed the distance. Now she waited for his eyes to drift downward, to steal a glimpse of what the V in the neckline of her sweater was pointing at, the way Hutch had. Instead, Mitch kept his eyes leveled squarely on hers.
God. What the hell was she thinking, anyway?
Of course he wasn’t going to kiss her again. He was her boss, and a perfect gentleman. Possibly even a fresh widower.
But, he never wore a ring. She checked again. Not even so much as a tan line. Did that really mean anything though? A lot of people never put on a band.
He caught her staring and tucked his hand away. Sidney grabbed the amber bottle and tried for a drink, but it was already empty. The movement diffused the electricity that had gathered between them and the moment was over, like a rumbling thunderstorm promising lightning that never struck. Mitch played with the empty oyster shells, grinding out a low sound from the back of his throat. He gazed out over the idyllic view, his eyes the same deep gray as the turbulent water.
“Thanks for the company.” He finished his own drink. “I really needed this today.”
Sidney folded her paper cocktail napkin into smaller and smaller squares, then stuffed it down into the neck of her empty bottle. “Me too.”
His jaw ticked and he gave a nearly imperceptible dip of his chin. Then his hard gaze softened and he turned the corner of his mouth up just a little. “Maybe we could do it again some time.”
“That’s what she said.”
“Oh, no.” Mitch groaned and signed the check the bartender delivered. “Don’t tell me Williams is finally rubbing off on you.”
Sidney crinkled her nose at his choice of words, and laughed.
He allowed a sardonic upward-tilt of his mouth. “Where can I drop you off?”
“Are you going back to the office?”
“Not right now. I’ve got some things to take care of.”
“Everything okay?” she asked. Was it too much to hope he’d finally open up to her?
“No, but it will be.”
He dodged again, and the disappointment pierced her heart like a sharp claw. But the sadness tugging at the edges of his eyes managed to take a little bit of the sting out.
“It’s Friday. Take the rest of the day off.” He tugged his coat on over his rolled up sleeves. “Do something fun.”
“Like what?”
“Like whatever you do on a gorgeous day like this.” He waved his hand out at the bright sunshine. “I refuse to let you sit in the office filling out paperwork. As your boss, in fact, I forbid it. You’re young and free, Lake. Take advantage of it.”
Sidney could only think of one thing she’d like to take advantage of right now, and it wasn’t the sunshine. She got up and he smoothed his hand across her back, settling his palm in the spot right between her shoulder blades. It was warm and heavy, and it scared her how much she liked it.
Nine
From the outside, Sidney’s apartment building was a bland little thing, tucked into a commercial district between two other taller buildings that made it look even plainer by comparison.
The door was smack in between an Indian restaurant and a dry cleaners, and all of it was easy to miss if you weren’t specifically looking for it. Hell, it was easy to miss even if you were looking for it.
“Here’s good,” she reminded him.
Mitch pulled up at the curb.
Sidney unbuckled. “You’ll let me know if I can help with anything? After all, I’m your assistant. It’s kind of my job.”
“Office assistant. Not personal assistant.” He kept his tone easy, not wanting a repeat of that morning. The look of hurt and betrayal in her eyes still stung. “But, thanks.”
“As a friend, then?” She looked to him hopefully. “We are friends, aren’t we?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “We’re friends.”
She smiled and his heart detonated. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Anytime.” He watched Sidney disappear into her apartment building and then he went for the antacids again.
Good God. The way this day was going he’d probably make it through the entire container before sunset. There was so much he needed to get done. But her delicate, fresh scent lingered in the car, keeping his attention away from his
list of errands.
How could she smell like water? Not just any water though.
When he breathed her in, he was instantly transported to the tranquility of the lake at his New Hampshire cabin. But not the stagnant water by the edge of the shore. This was the refreshing scent of deep, cool water out in the middle of the cove. The kind of water he wanted to dive into and surround himself with on a hot summer day. The one place he’d found in this world where he could literally soak up peace and serenity.
His balls ached.
It would have been so damned easy to lean down and taste her again. But he hadn’t.
Because it was wrong.
For a million reasons, it was wrong. He shouldn’t be wanting her this way. He was too old. Not to mention, the day was coming when she would ask for answers he couldn’t give her.
There would always be that one enormous barrier standing between them. He wrung the steering wheel until the leather groaned in protest, remembering the way bits and pieces of her father had been strewn around the room.
A horn blasted him out of his thoughts and he realized the light had changed. He was nearly to his place and couldn’t even remember getting there.
“Mitchell Walter Harris, you’re a fucking idiot,” he told himself out loud. His stomach churned.
Those oysters were a mistake in more ways than one. He smiled bitterly at the metaphor and snagged a parking spot half a block from his building. It was better than finding a unicorn.
His “loft-style” apartment in Chelsea was really just a closet with a futon. He’d taken it with the intent of finding something better, hence the reason he’d never changed his license, but that was three years ago, and he hadn’t even so much as glanced through any real-estate listings. Standing in the middle of his living-dining-bedroom area looking around at what his life had become, he wondered if staying here was just a way to punish himself for leaving Deirdre.
Wow.
His therapist would have a fucking field-day with that little truth bomb. He tossed his keys on the counter and checked the clock. There was just enough time to hop in the shower before he had to go meet with his lawyer.
Leaving the water cold did little to ease his state. He could wash his body, but he couldn’t wash the woman out of his mind.
Mitch had always been so careful to keep the memories of that day locked up tight in his mental vault. Safe behind the thick imaginary iron door he’d constructed inside his brain. Once that door opened, however, it was difficult to shut it against the flood of memories that gushed out.
The first time he’d ever met Sidney Lake, she was only a child. Eyes wide with uncertainty, struck through with the raw terror of having her worst nightmares become reality. She might have grown up, but that same haunted look was still there. He’d seen it this afternoon, for a split second.
That instant was all he needed, though. The thing about PTSD was that it only took one wrong thing to send him straight back to that bloodbath. Usually, it was a particular smell, the tinge of a sewer, raw meat, a hint of metal.
Today, it was that look in her eyes.
It was less than six months until the ten year anniversary. Now that he was retired, he could say her parents’ murder remained the most brutal and senseless crime he’d investigated in his entire career. A whole decade and he still couldn’t fucking figure it out.
What the hell happened that night?
“You did everything you could. You did everything you were allowed to do.” He rested his head on the tiles while the pinpricks of ice shooting out of the shower-head stung his skin. “But it wasn’t enough.”
Too many pieces of the puzzle were still missing. Too many holes he just couldn’t fill in. And he didn’t dare question her about it now. She’d moved on. She was doing surprisingly well.
All these years later, he couldn’t bear to drag her through that again. As if she’d even be able to tell him anything about what happened when she was sound asleep the entire time. Her child’s mind filled in the blanks with stories of monsters, and glowing eyes, and sharp teeth.
Living nightmare.
That’s all that night was for her.
It was the one thing they had in common, but could never share. Thank Christ everyone had had the sense to keep her out of that room. At least she didn’t have to move through her life with those images in her mind. He couldn’t solve the mystery, but at the very least, he could carry that burden for her.
And now she was begging to be out in the field. To fill her mind with the rot of violence and darkness anyway. The worst part about it was that she was really fucking good at it. She had an innate intuition and ability to notice things that had taken him years to develop. There was no way he could protect her forever. He pounded his fist against the tiles.
There was at least one thing he had control over, despite the inexorable pull between them he tried so hard to ignore. He could control himself. He had to. Because the closer they got, the more likely she’d be to start asking questions. Questions he didn’t have the answers to, and even if he did, would he even be capable of telling her?
It was already hard enough to live with himself. The monster that destroyed her life, hell, all their lives, was still out there. Mitch had one job to do.
And he’d failed.
He couldn’t fail Sidney again. Distance must be maintained. For so many reasons. It was better for everyone that way.
Head clear, decision made, purpose renewed, Mitch shut off the water and got dressed to go meet his lawyer.
Ten
Sidney jogged up the stairs to her apartment and threw her keys on the table. She went into her bathroom muttering to herself the entire way. A splash of cold water on her face, did nothing to quell the flame burning low inside her belly.
“He’s your boss. Off limits. Got it?” She pointed at her reflection. The mirrored image clearly didn’t care about logistics. Her cheeks were flushed, lips wet and hungry, eyes bright with need. “Shit.”
Sidney dried her face and shouted into the towel. She had too much pent up energy and nothing to do with it. With the afternoon off, she considered going to the pool for some laps, but she needed something rough.
Sweaty.
A good fuck would do it, but that most definitely wasn’t an option. Not with the person she wanted anyway. Her gym bag sat on the floor by her closet, untouched for too long. She checked the schedule at the dojo and found a class that started soon.
Perfect.
Sidney grabbed a fresh aikidōgi and snatched up her bag. Then, she hustled the four blocks up Lexington. She changed, and made it just as the previous class filed out. The door to the studio opened at the same time she reached it and she slammed straight into the person exiting.
“Oh, sorry!” Sidney apologized.
“My fault.” The man held the door and waved her in. “After you.”
“Thanks.” She headed in, focused on using her energy to warm up and stretch before class.
“Sidney Lake?”
On reflex, she tucked her chin and kept moving. Chances were, anyone calling out her name wasn’t someone she wanted to see or speak to. Especially paparazzi. But that was rare these days, ever since she’d had to get a restraining order on one of the photographers. Usually, if she ignored them, they’d assume they got the wrong person and leave her alone.
“Sidney?” A hand curled around her elbow. She stopped short and swung around. A familiar face greeted her, but there was gray hair at the temples, different eyes, and a little more height. He smiled. “I thought it was you. Been awhile.”
“Mr. Hutchison. The Third.”
“Please. Too many Mr. Hutchisons to keep up with these days. Call me Trip.” He ran his hand over his still-damp hair in a mirror image of his son. “Teddy just mentioned you this morning. What a coincidence.”
“Speak of the devil and she appears.” Sidney was dying to know exactly what had been mentioned about her, but didn’t want to volunteer any informatio
n. Hutch said he’d told his mom what happened, but he hadn’t said anything about his dad.
Trip chuckled and kneeled to put a metal object in a bag on the floor. He zipped it up and threw it over his shoulder. “Does this mean you’ll be wearing a blue dress tonight?”
Sidney had no clue what he was talking about, so she played coy. “Maybe Prada? Haven’t decided.”
“Teddy will be glad to have you there, I’m sure. He could use the moral support.” He bobbed his head. “I didn’t know you came here. Did you just start practicing?”
“I’m usually at work right now. I had some time off this afternoon and thought I’d pick up a class.” She stepped back as other students entered. “I didn’t know you practiced martial arts.”
“We tried it together when Teddy was little. I thought maybe it could be a bonding experience. He didn’t like it much, but I stuck with it.” He shrugged. “Good exercise.”
Sidney nodded. Everyone was gathered on the mat, starting warm-ups. “Sorry, I should go.”
“Right. Get to it.” He waved her on. “It was good bumping into you. Literally, in this case.”
“Nice to see you.” She left him and joined the class.
Normally, the discipline it took to work through the warm-ups helped her focus and tune out whatever was on her mind. Kicking, punching, and practicing footwork wasn’t helping today. Mitch’s turbulent gray eyes kept distracting her. And the weight of her sparring partner’s hand on her back only reminded her of the way Mitch’s felt, until her face slammed into the mat.
“Okay, let’s work on some defensive moves,” the sensei suggested. “You want to take advantage of the body’s natural pressure points. Try this, Lake.”
The sensei took her wrist between her two fingers and clamped down, then twisted. Pain radiated all the way up Sidney’s arm. She bit down on her lip and shook out her hand when she let go.
“You see?” the sensei asked.
“That’s good.” Sidney tried it out a few times, to make sure she could grab right on the pressure points from different positions before they moved on to other defensive moves.