Desperate Girls

by Laura Griffin

  “You all right?” he asked, stepping outside.

  “Yeah.” She smiled slightly. “Just enjoying the view out here.”

  “Pretty impressive, huh?”

  “It is.”

  He looked across the crowded parking lot at a row of pine trees. It wasn’t bad, really, if you overlooked the cars. But he wasn’t home enough to spend much time out here.

  He handed her a glass of wine and took the chair beside her. She looked so pretty sitting there on his balcony in the fading daylight, and he wanted to freeze this image of her in his mind to take with him.

  “Brynn?”

  “Huh?”

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “Don’t.”

  He set his glass on the table. “I’m sorry about Ross—”

  “Don’t say his name.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to talk about him right now. Or ever.”

  Erik was no psychologist, but he knew she needed to talk to someone. Maybe not him but someone. She’d spent an hour this morning on the phone with her sister, but something still seemed off with her. Erik would talk to Liam. He had to know someone trained in dealing with PTSD.

  Brynn cleared her throat. “I was thinking.”

  “About?”

  She sipped her wine and set the glass on the table. “I need to go in tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I can take you to get your car.”

  “Thanks.” She sighed. “I need to meet with Reggie. I’m going to ask for some time off.”

  Erik took her hand and squeezed it.

  “I’ve got to, I don’t know, get my head straight,” she said. “Recharge my batteries.”

  He nodded, waiting for her to continue. He sensed there was more.

  She turned to look at him. “What about you?”

  Damn. They needed to talk about this, but he hadn’t counted on right now.

  “I’m leaving soon,” he said.

  “When?”

  “Friday evening.”

  They only had two more days together. But they didn’t even have that, because Erik needed to spend most of that time at headquarters.

  “It’s a twelve-week job,” he said. “I’ll have a few days’ leave after six.”

  “Six weeks?”

  He nodded, watching her reaction. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, and I’d like to see you. I’ll miss you like hell while I’m gone, Brynn.”

  She smiled. “Promises, promises.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You don’t think I’m serious.”

  She shrugged. “It’s okay. I mean, Hawaii, right? I doubt you’ll have time to miss anything.”

  “Brynn, look at me.”

  She did, and the raw vulnerability in her eyes worried him. She’d had that look there since he’d seen her on the rooftop with Ross.

  She tugged her hand away.

  “Don’t do that.” He leaned forward and took her hand again. “Don’t blow me off. I’m serious about you.”

  She looked away and shook her head.

  “What? Talk. Because you obviously have something on your mind.”

  “Okay, you’re right. Here it is, full disclosure. I don’t have a good track record with relationships, Erik. Actually, my track record’s pathetic.”

  “You’re talking about your ex?”

  “And pretty much every guy I’ve known since college.” She sighed and folded her arms over her middle. “I don’t communicate well. I let my work consume me. I shut myself off from people, and then they end up lying and cheating on me.”

  Erik dipped his head down and looked at her. “I’m not like that.”

  “I know.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “Relationships are the problem. People hurt each other, whether they want to or not. That’s life.”

  She sounded so convinced, and his heart ached for her. She’d been burned repeatedly by people she trusted, starting with her own father, who’d walked out on her family.

  Erik shifted his chair so he was facing her and unfolded her arms. He took her hands in his and looked her in the eye. “What if I tell you I have no intention of hurting you?”

  She gave him a baleful look. “That’s sweet. But even if you don’t intend to do it, it happens. Trust me on this, because I think I have more experience with relationships than you do.”

  He smiled.

  “What?”

  “Come here,” he said, pulling her into his lap.

  “I’m too heavy.”

  “You’re perfect.” He arranged her legs over the side of the chair and looked at her, sliding his hand over her smooth thigh. “Give me a chance to show you how good we could be together. While you’re busy trying to prove me wrong, we might actually build something solid.”

  She looked at him with those deep blue eyes.

  “I don’t trust myself right now, Erik.”

  “You don’t have to trust yourself. You just have to trust me.”

  “I want to, but . . .”

  “What?”

  “I’m afraid of what could happen.”

  Now they were getting to the real issue. She looked uncomfortable, but at least she was making eye contact.

  “I’ve never felt like this before, Erik. So emotionally . . . churned up. When I’m with you, I just . . .” She let the words trail off.

  “I know.” He touched her cheek. “Me too.”

  Relief filled her eyes. But then she looked troubled again. “I’ve always been the one to keep my distance. To end a relationship when it got messy or complicated. But the thing is, I don’t feel any distance with you.”

  “Good.”

  “How is that good? This is a terrible time to start a relationship, and you’re leaving anyway, so what’s the point?”

  He kissed her. Softly at first, but then he kept at it until her hands slipped around his neck and her tongue tangled with his. He slid his palms over her hips, kissing her and taking in everything about her that he’d come to need.

  Slowly, he pulled away. “That’s the point.”

  Friday came way too soon.

  Erik was up before the sun. Brynn lay in her bed in the dark, pretending to be asleep as he dressed for his morning run and slipped out of the house. When he was gone, she got up and shuffled to the kitchen to make coffee. Now that the media had dissipated, they’d spent the night at her place, and she had to admit it was a relief to be home.

  She took her mug onto the screened porch and curled up on the wicker sofa, letting her thoughts flow along with her tears as the sky went from black to indigo to gray. She was still in shock from everything, and her emotions were all over the map.

  She’d been so wrong. About so many things. Days ago, she’d actually prided herself on her talent for reading people. She could read a jury. A witness. But those closest to her? Not at all. How had she been such a horrible judge of character?

  Ross had left a gaping wound in her chest, and she didn’t know whether it was his death or his betrayal that hurt worse. She closed her eyes to block it out, along with the self-doubt that had been plaguing her for days now.

  She took a deep breath and snuggled inside Erik’s flannel shirt. It was deliciously soft and smelled like him, and she planned to keep it when he left. She dried her eyes with the cuff and thought about today. They had a few more hours, and she wanted to make the most of them. She needed to hold it together.

  The front door opened and closed, and she heard his footsteps. The screen door squeaked, and he stepped onto the porch. She’d expected him to be flushed and sweaty, but he wasn’t at all.

  “Thought you went for a run?”

  “I changed my mind.”

  He seemed tense, but he didn’t say anything, just looked at her. “There’s coffee,” she said. “I’ve got decaf, too, if you want me to make some.”

  The fact that she’d purchased something so pointless just showed how gone she was over this man.
<
br />   “I’m good, thanks.” He sank onto the sofa beside her, and it creaked with his weight. He pulled her into his arms, and she felt a rush of warmth. No matter how crazy her head was, his arms around her made her feel better. He pulled her close, and she settled her cheek against his shoulder, loving how right they felt together. She’d never had such a natural fit with anyone.

  “When do you leave for the airport?” she asked.

  “I’m not going.”

  “What?” She pulled back.

  “I called Liam and told him to count me out.”

  “When?”

  “Just now. From your driveway.”

  “But . . . you said you’re the lead agent.”

  “Someone else can take the lead this time.”

  She squirmed back to look at him, and she could tell he was dead serious. He’d really done it. “What did Liam say?”

  He shrugged. “He wasn’t too happy. But I’ve never taken a vacation before, so he agreed to give me some time.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I know you’re already on thin ice with him, and I know how much your job matters to you.”

  “You matter more.”

  She stared at him, her heart thrumming. He was willing to risk his job for her. She felt a flood of joy and panic, both at the same time.

  “How long do you have?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. As long as you need.” He took her hand and laced their fingers together. “You’re going through something right now, Brynn, and I want to help.” He paused, as if trying to read her reaction. “I figure we’ll take two weeks and go from there.”

  Brynn’s head was spinning. She’d been prepared to say good-bye today.

  You matter more.

  “Say something,” he said. “You look shocked.”

  “I am. In a good way. I mean, two weeks. What are we going to do?”

  He smiled and squeezed her hand. “I have an idea.”

  THEY WENT to Playa del Carmen because neither of them had been there, and they’d heard it was paradise. As luck would have it, it rained. Not gentle showers, but angry bursts of water that pounded down from the sky, and they spent three days holed up in their hotel room.

  Which turned out to be its own kind of paradise.

  On the fourth day the rain let up some. Brynn could tell Erik was getting restless, so at her suggestion they grabbed a taxi to Tulum. They explored the Mayan ruins in the intermittent drizzle, clambering over the slick rocks. Then they hiked down the steep path to the beach, where they sat on the sand and looked at the surf.

  Erik held her hand—to Brynn’s surprise, he was a hand-holder—but he didn’t talk, and she liked that, too. They sat side by side with their knees up, staring out at the endless supply of waves battering the shore. On the way back, they stopped in town to eat ice-cream cones and buy postcards for Liz and her mom. Brynn told them everything was wonderful and didn’t mention the rain.

  “My sister wants to meet you,” Brynn informed Erik as she mailed the postcards.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “She said you must be really hot for me to run off to Mexico at a moment’s notice.”

  He smiled. “What’d you say?”

  She shrugged. “I said you were okay.”

  He grinned and pulled her in for a kiss.

  Their fifth and final day was sunny, and Brynn dragged Erik out of bed at 7:45 to stake out the best lounge chairs by the pool. She lay there all morning, enjoying the balmy breeze from underneath the shade of an umbrella. Turned out, Erik didn’t like lounging. He got restless again, and set out to walk the resort and check out their security setup.

  Brynn’s phone chimed on the table beside her. She checked the number and debated a moment before answering.

  “Hey, Reggie.”

  “Hello.” He sounded surprised she’d picked up. “How’s Mexico?”

  “Restful,” she said, knowing what he really wanted to ask was when she planned to be back. “How are things there?”

  He filled her in on new developments, including the news that her law school friend Molly was coming down for an interview.

  “She’s a genius at appellate work,” Brynn said. “We’d be lucky to get her.”

  “I agree.”

  “Thanks for letting me know.”

  Brynn promised to call Molly and then jumped off the phone before Reggie could pin her down on her return date.

  Brynn set aside her magazine and lowered herself into the negative edge pool. The water swirled around her, cooling her skin, which was already pink from the sun.

  Brynn felt happy for Molly. She’d given up an opportunity years ago because of Ross, and now it seemed oddly fitting that his death should create a new opportunity.

  Ross. She got a familiar tightness in her chest at the thought of him. Inhaling deeply, she ducked her head under the water and swam to the other end of the pool in one breath. She rested her arms on the warm tile and gazed out at the turquoise Caribbean.

  She still couldn’t believe Ross was gone, or that such a strange and twisted series of events had led to his death. And Corby was back in prison now, facing new charges for the murders of a prison guard, Jen Ballard, and Michael McGowan. Corby’s girlfriend, Ann Johnson, was facing charges of her own for aiding and abetting a fugitive.

  A splash behind Brynn made her turn around. Erik swam over and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

  “I got us daiquiris for breakfast,” he said, kissing her shoulder.

  “I thought they didn’t open until eleven?”

  “I may have flirted with the waitress.”

  “You? Flirting?” She turned around in his arms. For Erik, that probably meant he’d uttered two sentences of small talk.

  Brynn slid her hands up around his neck. He smiled down at her, but she saw the worry in his eyes.

  “You okay today?” he asked.

  “Why?”

  “You were tossing around all night.”

  “I’m okay.”

  He kissed her softly, and Brynn’s heart squeezed. He couldn’t fix what was wrong, but it helped to know that he wanted to.

  “I printed out our boarding passes for tomorrow,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  Back to reality. Back to work and people and everything they’d managed to avoid for more than a week. Brynn took a deep breath.

  “You seem tense,” he said.

  “I’m just thinking.”

  “About?”

  “What happens next. This has been great, but it’s not reality.”

  His brow furrowed. “I know what I want to happen. The more important question is, what do you want?”

  “Why is that more important?”

  “Because.” He brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “What I do is hard on relationships. The hours, the stress, the travel—”

  “The bullets, the stabbings.”

  “It’s not usually like that.” He paused and searched her face. “Yours was an unusual case.”

  She trailed a finger over his shoulder where his cut was healing. It was going to leave a scar.

  “I’ve seen people make it work, but you really have to want it.” His arms tightened around her. “Do you?”

  She looked up at him. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

  The instant she said it, she felt weightless. The words were out now. No more hiding.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  He smiled.

  “What?”

  He pulled he closer. “I think I’ve loved you since that first day when you told me I wasn’t your bellboy.”

  She pulled back. “You can’t be serious.”

  “That whole car ride, that was it for me. I knew I was toast.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “I know.”

  She looked into his eyes. They were loving and tender, and she knew he really saw her, in a way no one else had. Hope began to edge out the fear. She was ready to c
ommit to something hard. Hard was okay because they had something special together, and it was worth the effort, even though there were no guarantees, only possibilities.

  “I’m counting on you to break my losing streak,” she told him. “Can you handle it?”

  He tipped her chin up and kissed her. “I can handle it.”

  A BOOK IS a team effort, and I’m lucky to work with the best in the business. Thanks so much to everyone at Simon & Schuster, including Jean Anne Rose, Abby Zidle, Sara Quaranta, Lisa Litwack, Diana Velasquez, Jen Bergstrom, Jen Long, and Carolyn Reidy. I’m grateful to the S&S sales team for their work and dedication. A very special thanks to my talented editor, Lauren McKenna, for her wonderful insights and her enthusiasm for this book. Also, I want to thank my agent, Kevan Lyon, for years of guidance and friendship.

  And most of all, thank you to my family, whose love, patience, and support keep me going. I love you guys.

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