by Tia Louise
Patrick stands and goes briefly into the kitchen before returning with his phone, which he sets on the table between him and Elaine. My bowl is now empty, and I’m just about to announce my departure when it buzzes. Elaine’s head turns, and she snatches it up, springing out of her chair.
“Toni Durango?” Her voice is too loud. “Who the HELL is Toni Durango? Patrick! What the FUCK? Is this a stripper?”
I’m fully awake now, and completely bewildered at both the volume of her voice and what she’s saying.
“Lainey—” Patrick stands, but she cuts him off.
“NO!” She shoves the phone hard into his chest. He tries to catch her but she pushes him again. Elaine is unusually strong, take it from me. “I’m not listening to your bullshit! Fuck you, Patrick!”
She storms to the bedroom, and I’m frozen in my spot. My mouth is open, and I’m sure I look like a guppy. Would a stripper call Patrick? How would she have his number? Did Patrick give his number to a stripper? Could it be part of a case?
He doesn’t wait for me to intervene. He’s headed to the bedroom after her, just as a heavy, black combat boot flies through the opening. I scream and he ducks, avoiding the headshot.
“Honey… Don’t throw things at my head.” Somehow his voice sounds scolding instead of pleading.
“Don’t touch me!” Elaine’s still yelling, and my heart’s beating too fast. I’ve never liked confrontations like this, but I hesitate before leaving.
“Lainey?” My voice is high and soft, and I stand, cautiously going toward the bedroom. I don’t want to be hit by any flying objects either, and my coordination isn’t as good as it was pre-pregnancy. “Are you okay?”
A flash of blonde hair, and she’s out of the bedroom, cheeks pink and a small suitcase in her hand. “I’m staying with you tonight. Let’s go.”
“Uhh…” I’m certain I could win the Most Helpless Award at that moment.
Patrick goes to the fireplace and rubs the back of his neck as he studies the orange flames. I watch as my best friend storms past me and out the door.
“Okay, then.” I shake my head and follow her, picking up my bag. Elaine’s already in my car, sitting with her arms crossed, when I open the driver’s side door.
“Honey?” I have no idea what to say right now. These guys are not having problems. It’s impossible.
“Just stop. Patrick was a player before we got together, so what makes me think he’d stop being a player now?”
“Because he loves you? Because he left everything in Princeton behind to be here with you? Is it possible you’re being a little hasty?”
I can’t tell if she’s about to cry or not. Somehow it doesn’t seem like she is. With a deep exhale, I get in and push the key into the ignition. I almost jump out of my skin when she shrieks again.
“Wait!”
“You’re going to send me into premature labor—”
“Forgot my glasses.” She’s out the car and running back inside as I sit in the idling vehicle.
My shoulders drop as she disappears through the door. This whole situation is weird. Elaine isn’t flighty, nor does she jump to conclusions. And from what I’ve observed, she has Patrick whipped pretty well.
I continue waiting, wondering what the hell’s taking so long, when a low throb like heartburn starts in the center of my chest.
What if she is right, and Patrick is cheating or whatever? He always seemed so sweet to me. The self-doubt creeping up the back of my neck is even worse than the déjà vu of being watched. I think Patrick is a great guy. I also thought Sloan was a great guy. Is my ability to judge character still so warped?
I think Derek’s a great guy…
Elaine’s back, jumping into my car before I can go any further on that crazy-train of mentally exhausted thought. In the brief, dome light, her lips appear pink and slightly swollen… like she’s been kissing someone. Then it’s dark again.
“Let’s go,” she snaps.
That does it. “Don’t be all bossy with me. I don’t know any strippers.” Now I’m frowning.
“I’m sorry.” She drops back against the passenger seat and turns to face me. “Thanks for letting me sleep over. It can be like a girls’ night.”
I shake my head. “I’m going to bed when we get home. You can work out whatever this is on your own.”
I’m asleep before my head meets the pillow. Elaine’s snug in my little guest room, and as yet, she still hasn’t shed a tear. She doesn’t even seem mad anymore.
I’m about to accuse them both of pulling some inexplicable role-playing stunt, but I hesitate. I could be wrong.
Still, I know my friend has a wild side. I’m just too tired to delve into it tonight. Lainey’s like my sister, and if she needs to crash here, that’s fine. We’ll sort it out tomorrow.
Somewhere past midnight, I wake with a jolt. The house is quiet, but I throw back the covers and go to my bedroom door. My heart is beating so fast as I pause and listen, but everything sounds peaceful. What was it?
I stand a few moments in groggy silence, trying to remember what might’ve woken me. It’s been a while since I’ve slept on edge, sleep so near waking it could hardly qualify as restful, and it often involved clutching that small can of pepper spray under my pillow. It was how I usually slept when I lived in Sloan’s house.
Elaine’s voice comes from the guest room, so I tiptoe down the hall. The yellow-pine floor is soft and warm beneath my feet in spite of the cold, and the cottage is new enough that nothing creaks. I’m quiet as a cat sneaking around.
“I swear I heard something.” Her voice is a shaky whisper. She pauses, listening to whoever’s on the line… I’m pretty certain I know who it is. “Maybe.” Pause. “I guess I was asleep, but come over and spend the night anyway.” More waiting as she listens. “We’ll worry about that tomorrow. I need you here.”
Rolling my eyes at the pleading tone in her voice, I’m fully prepared to find Patrick in my kitchen in the morning. They’re both about to make my shit list for whatever’s going on. Still, I’m smiling as I crawl back into my bed.
Lainey’s not used to being here, and I’m not used to overnight guests in that little room. We most likely disturbed each other, but I’ll sleep better with Patrick here. And the truth is, I’m relieved to know they’re okay, no matter what I witnessed at their condo tonight. I drift back to sleep, my shaky self-confidence restored.
Sure enough, Derek’s business partner is standing in my kitchen when I stagger in for coffee the next morning. He’s in a white tee and the same faded jeans, and he’s cute as ever with his messy bedhead and scruffy cheeks.
“Good morning,” I say with a squint. “I guess we’re all made up again?”
“Hey, babe.” He steps forward and pecks my forehead. “Sleep okay?”
“All except for a few moments after midnight…”
His body goes on visible defense. “Did you hear something?”
I feel like I’m calming a German Shepherd. “I heard Elaine on the phone begging you to come over.”
His broad shoulders drop. “Oh.”
Jamming my hands on my hips, my voice is raised now. “What the hell is going on here? First Derek’s wound so tight, now you and Elaine are acting like… I don’t know what. Like you’re auditioning for community theater—”
“Hang on.” He steps toward me and then looks around.
“She’s still in the guest room, but she’ll be flying in here any minute. She has to be at school in an hour.”
He catches me by the shoulders and pulls me further into the kitchen. “Just between us, okay?”
I nod, unsure what he’s about to say.
“Derek wants to tell you himself. So just be cool.”
He’s quiet again, and it actually appears he’s done. That’s it. All I get.
I push his hands off me. “What! That’s the most… I thought you were about to tell me something I can use.”
“And risk the wrath of Derek? No fucking way. T
hat’s one ass-kicking I’ve somehow managed to avoid, and I plan to keep it that way.” He laughs, and turns to the fridge, pulling out the OJ. “But Elaine’s spending the night with you until he gets here, okay?”
“Which means you are, too?”
He grins and does a little shrug.
I’m frustrated, and my throat feels tight. “This doesn’t make any sense unless he’s afraid of me being alone… which means—”
In that instant it all clicks together. It couldn’t be anything else, and I feel like an idiot for not seeing it sooner. At the same time, my stomach drops as I acknowledge what it means.
Just then Elaine flies into the kitchen, as predicted, whizzing around the room and gathering her things fast. She sees me and freezes, guilt filling her green eyes. “You’re awake.”
“And you two aren’t really fighting.”
Her pink lips twist, but a car horn sounds outside. “Oh, that’s my ride. Sorry, Mel. Have to get to school.” She pecks me on the cheek and Patrick on the mouth—followed by him grabbing her waist and pulling her back for a longer, open-mouthed smooch.
I leave the kitchen, headed for my bedroom with a boulder in my chest. The case that has Derek so tense, Patrick turning into my live-in babysitter… I’m standing by my bedside thinking when it all clicks together.
“You okay?”
I squeal and almost throw my coffee across the bed. “Patrick! Jesus!”
He tries not to laugh, putting a hand on my shoulder. “That’s exactly what he wants to avoid. He doesn’t want you to be afraid.”
My heart’s still flying as I set my coffee cup on the dresser. “So you’re really not going to tell me what’s happening?”
“No.”
Dropping onto the bed, I look up at him. “How long will you two be staying here?”
“Until Derek arrives on Thursday.”
Thursday. Despite it all, knowing he’ll be here so soon makes my heart rise. “That performance last night really wasn’t necessary. You could’ve just insisted I spend the night.”
“It was a last-ditch effort.” He walks over and sits beside me on the bed, patting my knee. “We tried everything to get you to stay at our place. You’re stubborn as a damn mule.”
“I am not!” My eyes widen, and he laughs more.
“Have you met yourself?”
I want to laugh, but my realization kills the levity. “This is about Sloan, isn’t it?”
Patrick’s smile fades, and he looks down. No answer.
The truth of what’s going on beats painfully in my chest. The change must be clear on my face because in one quick move, his arms are around my shoulders, and I’m pulled into Patrick’s embrace.
“It’s going to be okay.” His voice is soothing, his hug warm. “I’ve got you covered until Derek gets here, and then he’ll take over.”
“I’m fine.” I push back and clear my throat. “Sloan doesn’t scare me anymore. Look.” Going to the closet, I open the door and reach inside, pulling out a wooden baseball bat. “Backup plan.”
His grin returns at the sight of it. “Think you could use it on him?”
“I know I could use it on him.”
He walks over to me. Then he taps me on the nose with the tip of his finger. “Glad to hear it, because I have to drive to Raleigh today. I’m pretty certain you’ll be okay while I’m gone, but I feel a little better now.”
A line pierces my forehead. “What’s in Raleigh?”
“Not what, who. Toni Durango.”
“The stripper?” I’m right behind him as he heads to the door. “Elaine was right?”
He pauses before leaving. “No and yes. No, she’s not a stripper. She’s a former escort. And yes, Elaine knows. I’m hoping she’ll help us. Wish me luck.”
“Don’t get lucky!”
“Too late.”
My mouth drops open as I watch him climb in the waiting Charger and drive away. The sound of my phone buzzing snaps me out of it, and I see a text from Derek.
Sleep well?
I pick up the device and quickly type back. Two house guests last night. You’ve got some explaining to do.
See you soon.
We exchange I love you; I love you mores, and it appears that’s as much information as I’m going to get. And it’s pissing me off.
Chapter 4: A Physical Reminder
Derek
Fucking Houston took longer than I planned.
Between filtering through their myriad of networks and users and their lax social media policy, half the computers had viruses and the other half had unnecessary virus protection added. I don’t finish the analysis until late Wednesday.
Nikki is sitting at the front desk waiting, perky as ever, when I present her with the package.
“Happy leap year.” Keeping the frustration out of my voice is difficult.
“What’s this, boss?”
Remembering my new leaf, I soften my tone. “I need you to mail that to our new Houston client. And I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Her dark brow arches.
“Take the rest of the week off. With pay.”
Instead of squealing, she leans back in her chair. “Is it that bad?”
I feel my own brow furrow in response. “What?”
“Look, I know you think I’m just a dumb blonde, but you’re wrong. Something’s going on, and it’s something with Melissa.”
For a split second, I almost lose it, but I recover fast—poker face back in place. “Melissa’s fine.”
“I know she’s fine. We text pretty regularly. But whatever has you so edgy is about her, and don’t try to tell me it isn’t.”
Fuck. The tension creeps up my back again.
Why didn’t I go solo after Stuart left? Patrick was a real test of my patience, but Nikki might push me over the cliff. I don’t need an office manager. I handle my own travel plans now, and half the time I even answer my own damn phone.
But Melissa likes her.
“I’m working on something,” I say, calming the adrenaline spike in my veins. “And I’m handling it. There’s no need to worry Melissa.”
Her blue eyes roam around my face searching for clues. Nikki has pretty much pissed me off since Day 1, but if she can keep her mouth shut now, I’ll let all of it go.
We face each other for a few, tense seconds before she nods. “I won’t say anything.”
“Thank you.”
“Only because I know how much you love her. You’ll do anything to protect her. Right?”
I can’t believe she even has to ask, but I guess some women see a lot more shitty guys than good ones. “Right. I won’t be back in this office until I’m sure she’s safe.”
Standing, she collects her coat, purse, and the package. Then she gives me a little salute. “Take as long as you need, boss. I’ll be on standby if you want someone here.”
And with that, she’s out the door. I lean against her desk, gauging my level of exhaustion. If I leave now, I’ll be in Wilmington by morning. If I fall asleep at the wheel, I won’t be any use to anybody. My phone buzzes, and when I see the face, I make my decision.
PM check in! Melissa texts. P&E are here. You home or work?
Just finished Houston, leaving work. Miss you.
Tomorrow?
ASAP.
Be careful driving. Love you.
Love you more.
The cottage is dark when I arrive at 6 a.m. Elaine is the only one with an early wake-up call, so it’s possible I can get into Melissa’s room before they’re up and stirring. Driving all night might not have been the most restful approach, but with the energy surging through my chest, I knew I wouldn’t get any sleep anyway. I’ll nap a few hours this morning and be ready to go without losing a day.
Dropping my duffel by the stainless fridge inside, I ease off my boots and place them one at a time by the door doing my best to keep quiet. Grabbing a water bottle, I head to Melissa’s bedroom, but I nearly slam it against the skull o
f a half-dressed Patrick. He’s right around the corner, holding a wooden baseball bat high, like he’s about to use my head for the winning homer in the World Series.
“SHIT!” we both whisper-shout.
“What the fuck?” Patrick lowers the bat and breathes.
I recognize the energy surging through his muscles. It matches the rapid tweaking of my own, and I need a second to recover.
“You could’ve shot me a text,” he groans, dropping onto the couch. “Did you fucking drive all night?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” I clap his shoulder as I pass. “Glad to see you’re on your toes. You’re officially off guard duty.”
“Hey!” I pause, and he tosses me the bat. “Happy to help. I’m going back to bed.”
Catching his “weapon,” my brow lines. “Think you’ll be able to sleep?”
“Nope.” That grin spreads across his face. It’s the same one that used to tick me off because I knew it meant I’d be cleaning up his shit sooner rather than later.
“Just keep it down. I don’t need to hear you getting any.”
He points back at me as he heads down the hall. “Right back atcha.”
Shaking my head, I turn Melissa’s bedroom door handle as softly as possible. Unlike my younger partner, I don’t plan to wake her this early. I know the pregnancy makes her tired, and I’ll be content to be beside her. It’ll be the first good rest I’ve had in four days, knowing she’s with me and safe.
She’s curled in her familiar sleeping position, and I can’t help a smile as the warmth of love fills me. I will never get tired of watching this woman sleep.
Jeans off, I whip the thin, navy sweater I’m wearing over my head and slip into her king-sized bed. She doesn’t even stir, and I’m happy she feels so secure with Patrick in the house. He might have been a pain in my ass in the past, but he’s more than made up for it with this assignment.
Easing closer to her, I lift her long, dark waves off the pillow and replace them with my head. She makes a soft noise and stirs, but she doesn’t wake. My arm goes above her, and our bodies are so close, I can feel the warmth radiating from her ivory skin.