Bowie: The Sinner Saints #5

Home > Romance > Bowie: The Sinner Saints #5 > Page 10
Bowie: The Sinner Saints #5 Page 10

by Adrienne Bell


  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Don’t be,” he said. “Right now all I want to do is catch a little sleep.”

  She nodded. She didn’t doubt it. After everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours he was probably exhausted.

  Charlie’s brows pulled down as she watched him try to squeeze his massive body into her tiny chair. She crossed her arms.

  “This is ridiculous, Bowie,” she said, stepping away from the wall. She stopped right in front of him and extended her hand. “Get up.”

  He didn’t move.

  “You can’t sleep in that silly little chair,” she tried again. “Hell, I could barely fit in it when I was a teenager.”

  Bowie tilted his chin up a notch. “It worked just fine last night.”

  “Right,” she said. “Tell me again how many hours of sleep you got in it?”

  A long silence filled the room.

  “That’s what I thought,” Charlie said. She pressed her hand closer. “Now stop being such a stubborn pain in the ass and get some real sleep in a real bed.”

  Nothing.

  Charlie dug in her heels. She wasn’t about to take no for an answer. Not this time. He should know that she could be just as stubborn as he was. Twice as stubborn.

  “Consider it a safety concern,” she said. “After all, you can’t protect me if you can’t keep your damn eyes open.”

  The line of his mouth flattened. His jaw muscles twitched.

  She stood there for a full minute before he finally reached out and took her hand. An electric rush of awareness skimmed across her skin as his warm fingers wrapped around hers.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said, even as he lifted up.

  “Come on. It’s a big bed,” she said with a self-conscious smile. “You can even draw a line down the middle, and I’ll promise not to cross it.”

  Bowie’s mouth didn’t move. He didn’t smile, didn’t frown. His stoic expression didn’t give away a single thought.

  But eventually his dark gaze locked with hers and he nodded. Charlie felt that electric surge all over again.

  “Great,” she said, her voice suddenly shaky. She slid her hand from his and turned off the lights. She kicked off her shoes, and when she turned around again, she found him lying on top of the blankets. His back was to her, and he was teetering on the very edge of the mattress. She slipped in next to him and pulled the sheets up high and tight around her.

  “Relax, Bowie,” she tried to joke, but her voice came out sharp and nervous. “I don’t bite.”

  “But I might,” he answered.

  Charlie’s eyes opened wide as she stared up at the darkened ceiling, and they stayed that way for the next hour as she wrestled with the question of whether or not he was joking.

  ***

  Bowie knew Charlie had probably meant to keep her promise to stay on her side of the bed. At least her brain had.

  Her sleeping body had other ideas.

  He’d known something was wrong the moment dawn arrived. He’d felt good when he’d woken up. Too good. Surrounded by warmth and softness. A faint sweet scent enveloped him.

  He hadn’t wanted to open his eyes. He’d just wanted to stay that way forever.

  And for a few seconds he’d even tricked himself into believing he could.

  But the feeling hadn’t lasted. The sun continued rising and the darkness turned to light, and he’d been forced to admit that he was awake.

  He’d opened his eyes…and found her wrapped in his arms.

  She’d managed to wriggle her way over to him in the night, and, like an idiot, he’d pulled her close.

  But that wasn’t the worst part.

  The worst part was that even after he was wide awake, after he’d realized what he’d done, he still hadn’t let her go. He hadn’t nudged her back to her side, or jumped up from the bed.

  No.

  He’d stayed there, lying beside her, relishing her scent and the feel of her body, drinking in every single sensation that was Charlie for another full minute before he’d finally built up the resolve to slowly pull away.

  It had taken every ounce of strength he’d had to get out of that bed.

  He’d regretted the decision the moment his feet had hit the floor that morning, and he’d continued to regret it every second since.

  Even now, it was all he could think about as he sat in his usual cubicle, directly across from Charlie’s office. He didn’t mind that he was the only member of the core team without a dedicated office. He knew all he had to do was ask and Carter would grant him one. But he never would.

  Bowie told himself it was because he spent too much time out in the field to justify wasting the space, but it was really because the only available office was all the way at the other end of the floor—the furthest point from Charlie’s door.

  The open door he was staring at now.

  “Hey, man.”

  Bowie straightened his spine at his friend’s voice. Maybe he’d been too rash. Suddenly, the idea of a door he could shut didn’t sound so bad.

  “Jake.” Bowie turned his head just far enough to spot his friend.

  “I thought I might find you here,” Jake said, draping his arms over the top of the cubicle wall.

  “What do you want?” Bowie grumbled. He pulled his lips down hard. Usually his scowls made people tremble. Jake only laughed.

  Though, truth be told, Bowie couldn’t get upset. God knew, it wasn’t because he enjoyed his friend’s endless taunting. Sometimes he wanted to break the man’s jaw over it. But Jake had been to hell and back this year, and it was good to see him acting like his old self again—smiling, laughing, teasing.

  Jake rolled over a chair from a neighboring cubical and sat down without an invitation.

  “Just wanted to see how you’re doing,” he said.

  Bowie narrowed his eyes. “I’m fine.”

  “Really?” Jake asked. “Because you’ve been here for a little over five hours already, and I haven’t seen you so much as glance away from Charlie’s door.”

  “Don’t start down this road,” Bowie warned.

  Jake leaned back in his chair, bending his elbows and clasping his hands behind his neck. “Why?”

  “I warned you back in Augustville that I’d bust your nose if you ever talked to me about her again.”

  Jake shook his head. “Actually, you threatened to knock my damn teeth out.”

  “I can do both,” Bowie said with a growl. He turned his attention back to the open door ten feet away.

  “Oh, I know you can,” Jake said with another laugh. “But that’s not going to stop me. You know why?”

  “Because you haven’t gotten over that death wish?”

  “Because I owe you,” Jake said. “I wouldn’t be sitting here right now if it weren’t for you. I sure as hell wouldn’t be with Verity. I would’ve thrown my life away. But you three stopped me—you, Verity, and Charlie. I owe you all more than I can ever repay.”

  “You don’t owe me a thing.” Bowie forced himself to draw in a long breath. He flattened his palms on his bent knees. “I’m your friend. I’m your goddamn brother. We help each other out. That’s what we do.”

  “Exactly,” Jake said, rolling his chair in a little closer. “And that’s exactly why I’m here risking this gorgeous smile of mine.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “The hell you don’t.” He stretched his arm out behind him, and lowered his voice. “You are in love with the woman in that room, and she’s in love with you.”

  Bowie snapped his head toward Jake. “She what?”

  Jake slowly nodded. His smile took on a knowing edge.

  It couldn’t be true.

  Sure, he’d noticed that she’d been paying more attention to him lately. He wasn’t oblivious to her looks, or smiles, or even the way she’d go out of her way to physically brush past him when they passed in the hall.

  Then there had been that lustful lo
ok in her eyes when she’d draped her arms around him the night before last.

  But that’s all it had been—lust. Infatuation. A crush. Nothing more.

  Bowie shook his head. “No. Her feelings will pass. One day she’ll meet someone more like her and forget all about me.”

  “Right.” Jake stretched out the word. “Because that’s exactly what happened to you when you started dating Diane. Tell me again why that didn’t work out.”

  “Jake,” Bowie warned. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on to his temper. He was already so close to the breaking point.

  “Hey, I get it,” Jake said, lifting his palms in the air. “You don’t like hearing the truth. Who the hell does? But I’m telling you, one day you’re going to go too far trying to protect that fragile heart of yours. You’re going to push her away too hard and she’s never going to come back.”

  “Maybe that would be best,” Bowie said, but even as he ground out the words, cold fear flooded his chest.

  “Bullshit,” Jake shot back. “You might be able to fool everyone else in the world, but not me. It would crush you to lose Charlie. And if you don’t tell her how you feel soon that’s exactly what is going to happen.”

  He knew what picture Jake was painting. Charlie was never going to leave Macmillan Security. This place, her work, the people she helped—they were all too important to her to walk away.

  But there were other ways to leave. One day, he would prop his shoulder on her doorjamb to ask her some question—the same way he’d done every day for the past few years—and when she looked at him, that sparkle in her eyes would be gone. The smiles, the bright ones that she only seemed to give to him, would stop.

  Hell, she’d talked to him about it last night.

  I would never do anything to drive a wedge between us.

  But that’s exactly what he was doing. He was already losing her.

  Bowie glanced to the side. There was no one around them. Good. Because if anyone had the misfortune of overhearing him right now…well, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.

  “I-I don’t know how to tell her,” he admitted through gritted teeth.

  “Ah,” Jake said, his eyes going wide with understanding. He sat up straight in his chair. His expression turned serious. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just like taking out a hostile combatant. Don’t get fancy. Make it quick and clean.”

  Bowie nodded. That made sense. Those were terms he could understand.

  “So, I should just walk in there right now and…”

  “No. Don’t do it here.” Jake shook his head. “Take her to dinner. I’m not sure why, but women always appreciate big moments happening over dinner. I guess food is a powerful emotional buffer.”

  Bowie nodded. It all sounded good. But it only solved half his problem. “And then what?”

  “Oh, don’t worry. If I know Charlie, she’ll take care of the rest.” He patted Bowie on the shoulder as he stood. “Good luck, man.”

  “Jake.” Bowie swiveled around in his chair to face his friend. “You say one word about this to anyone, and I will rip your tongue out.”

  “Of course, man.” Jake nodded, his wide smile returning. “Goes without saying.”

  Chapter Nine

  “What about Canada?”

  Charlie shook her head as she lifted her coffee cup off the break room table. “Afraid not. It’s one of the first places I tried.”

  “South Africa?”

  Another shake. “Nope.”

  Sara’s mouth dipped down into a deep frown. Charlie understood her frustration. She’d spent two days poking around trying to find the mysterious origins of First-Name-Only-James, but she hadn’t found a thing. Not a single thing.

  That alone was baffling. It was as if this guy had no past at all. As if one day he’d just popped magically into existence.

  But, of course, that wasn’t possible.

  His story was out there…somewhere. And Charlie was determined to find it.

  “Where are you going to try next?” Sara asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Charlie said. She took a long sip of her coffee as Bowie stepped through the break room entryway. “I haven’t tried any of the Scandinavian countries yet.”

  Sara’s brows pulled together. “Seems like a stretch.”

  Charlie shrugged. “I’m running out of options.” She looked at Bowie leaning against the wall. “Where do you think James is from?”

  He crossed his arms. He looked more tense than usual. “Don’t care.”

  “Well, that’s helpful,” she muttered.

  “We should go to dinner,” he said before she could set her mug back down on the table.

  Charlie’s brows shot up. “Excuse me?”

  “We should go get dinner,” he repeated. “Together.”

  Charlie blinked a couple of times. She had heard him right. A girl could get whiplash from such a sudden change in conversation.

  “Now?” She glanced up at the clock. “It’s five o’clock.”

  “People eat dinner at five o’clock.”

  “Sure.” Charlie nodded. “People who have been retired for twenty years.”

  “We could stop at a bar and get a couple of drinks first,” he said.

  “Or…we could just order some Chinese food in a couple of hours?”

  “You don’t want to go?” he asked, his voice suddenly tight.

  “No, she does,” Sara cut in. She looked over at Charlie with wide eyes, as if she’d just come to some major realization. One she wasn’t sharing. “You do.”

  “I do?” Charlie asked.

  “Yep,” Sara said, practically jumping out of her seat. “Like Bowie said, it’s five o’clock. Time to get off work.”

  Sara rushed to Charlie’s chair and pulled her up by the arms.

  “But that’s the thing,” Charlie said, reluctantly standing. “I’m not done working. There’s still a lot more I have to do.”

  “Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow,” Sara said with a wink.

  Charlie’s brows pulled together. What the hell was going on? “But—”

  “I’ve been trying to figure James out for months now,” Sara said. “One more night isn’t going to make a difference. Trust me.”

  “All right. All right,” Charlie said as her friend planted two hands on her back, and physically pushed her toward Bowie. “I guess we’re going to dinner.”

  Without thinking, she wrapped her arm around his. He glanced down to where her fingers curled around the curve of his bicep.

  “Oh, sorry,” she said in a rush. She started to pull away, but Bowie wrapped his hand around hers, holding it in place before she could.

  “It’s okay,” he said, looking down into her eyes. “If more of Bishop’s men are outside waiting for us, it’s better for them to see us walking arm in arm.”

  “Of course,” she said with a nod. That was why he was so insistent that they needed to go out. Trevor’s suspicions were roused. He was watching them closely. He needed to see them acting like a couple even when her family wasn’t around.

  A flash of disappointment shot through Charlie. She’d actually thought for a moment there that he’d wanted to take her out to dinner. She should’ve known better than to get her hopes up.

  But, as usual, the feeling quickly faded. It wasn’t like the evening was going to be a total bust. She still got to hang out with Bowie.

  Hang out and pretend to be his girlfriend.

  Which meant she got all the public touching privileges she’d ever dreamed of. Even now, his hand was brushing over hers as they walked through the front door of Macmillan Security. She could feel his arm muscles, moving, stretching, practically humming with strength and life beneath her touch.

  And that was just his arm.

  All of a sudden, she wished that she had some not so public touching privileges as well.

  A girl could dream…and right now she was dreaming about what the rest of him might feel like benea
th her palms.

  Man, would she like to take the time to find out. To run her hands over his chest, down his belly, over the slim taper of his hips. To toss him on her bed, straddle him with her legs, and…

  Charlie tried not to blush down to her bones at the images that popped up in her mind, but the more she fought, the clearer the picture became. She ducked her chin and tried to hide her burning cheeks.

  The move did not go unnoticed. “You all right?” he asked.

  “S-sure,” she stuttered. “Just thinking about work is all.”

  “Work.” Bowie’s lips tightened. His shoulders pulled back. “You’re really taken with this thief, aren’t you?”

  There was an unusual tone in Bowie’s voice that she’d never heard before. Not quite anger. Something else. Jealousy?

  It couldn’t be.

  “Not taken,” she said. “Just curious.”

  “So you’re not attracted to him?”

  Charlie snapped her head up and met Bowie’s dark gaze.

  Dang, her knees started to wobble. She should have known better than to look the man straight in the eye after going on a full-blown trip down fantasy lane. The fire burning in her cheeks only grew.

  “What? No,” she stammered. “I mean, sure he’s handsome, and charming, and mysterious, and has a yummy accent.”

  Bowie stiffly turned his head away as the elevator doors opened. He hit the garage button. “That’s a hell of a list.”

  Charlie laughed. She couldn’t help it. Bowie didn’t really think that she had the hots for James, did he? And even if he did, why should he care?

  “He’s also cocky, vain, shady, and quite probably a dangerous criminal,” she added. “Nothing at all like you.”

  She gave his arm an extra squeeze. Some of the tension around his eyes faded. His shoulders fell a little. She watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. A moment later, he looked at her.

  “So you like accents?” he asked.

  Charlie’s blush deepened as Bowie let the full force of his island lilt flow through his words.

  “I love them.”

  A strange beat passed between them. The temperature inside the elevator increased by several degrees. Bowie’s gaze didn’t leave hers as he shifted on his feet, angling toward her. His lips parted.

 

‹ Prev