The Science of Loving

by Candace Vianna

  My phone vibrated in my pocket. “Mom says they just dropped Angie off and they’re on their way over.”

  “Good maybe they’ll have some answers.” Jack said as we climbed the stairs.

  I was too antsy to sit still, so I started a pot of coffee while Jack flipped through some drawings on my drafting table. “What are these?”

  “Just stuff I’ve been playing with.” I said, joining him. “I get these random ideas and if I don’t get them down on paper, they just keep rolling around in my head, nagging me. Everyone thinks I just come up with stuff on the spur of the moment, but I have files full of ideas just waiting for the right project.” The elevator engaged, interrupting us.

  “Hey Mammy,” I kissed the top of Mom’s head, hugging her tightly then messed with Danny. “Squirt.”

  “Lurch.”

  “Jack, I’m glad you’re here. You’re Ex has Angie so confused she doesn’t know up from down, and I have a bad feeling.”

  “Shit, bad as in I’ve lost her forever, or bad as in someone’s going to get hurt.” Mom came from a long line of pitonisas, and her feelings were never wrong.

  “Same bad I had at the hospital.”

  “What’s going on?” Jack looked from Mom to me.

  “Mom has a highly developed intuition. If she has a bad feeling then it’s time to start worrying,” Danny said.

  “Okay, you probably heard something that doesn’t fit,” Jack said logically. “What did Angie say that’s making you uneasy?”

  “Actually, it’s a lot of little things. According to Les, Angie’s mother undermines her confidence, and keeps her socially isolated. Angie admits her mother is controlling and protective. But in my experience, it’s never a good sign when someone is described as both controlling and protective in the same sentence, add in the isolation, investigations on Angie’s friends, the interference with her lab personnel and things get weird.”

  “Stephanie’s messed with Angie’s researchers?”

  “She went after Les, apparently, but someone named Bob interceded. The same Bob, I’m guessing, Stephanie was pressuring Angie to get to perjure himself.”

  “Damn. I didn’t want Angie in the middle of this.”

  “What really set off my alarm bells her specifically mentioning Angie’s financial interests. But it’s my understanding that she doesn’t have access to the family trust.”

  “No, not while I’m alive and mentally sound.”

  “So, why worry about money Angie doesn’t have, and probably won’t have for quite some time? Why is she involved with my son’s ex-employee? And what is her interest in my son’s finances? There’s also the suspicious nature and timing of your accident?”

  Yeah, put all together like that, it was fucking scary. I didn't want Angie or Jack alone. “I’d really like Angie to stay here until this is all sorted out.”

  “I don’t think she’d go for that right now Matty, she’s all tied up in knots and doesn’t know who to trust.”

  “Well, she trusts me,” Jack said, getting up. “I’d best get home.”

  “Hey Jack, watch your back.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  It’s My Party

  God, it had already been a hard week, and it was only Wednesday. I'd thrown myself into my work instead of dealing with my personal troubles. I’d finished the final draft of Bob’s paper ahead of schedule, ordered our monthly consumables, completed our grant proposals for the next fiscal year. I even did a little science. Mat’s texts had tapered off to wishing me a good morning at dawn and sweet dreams in the evening, and I wondered how long it would be before they stopped altogether—no more crying. Dammit.

  The lab phone startled me out of my morose thoughts. “Hello?” Silence. Then a hang up. My mystery caller struck again. I glanced at the time. Yep, he’d called like clockwork every night this week. I smiled, secretly imagining Mat on the other end of the phone, pining to hear my voice. Who else would call this late? It was well past business hours and everyone had gone home.

  I took this as my sign to call it a day. Now, if I could just make it through another night. Nights were the hardest. There were no distractions, nothing but me and my lonely thoughts. I shut down the computer and took my time locking up. After a final tug on the door, I trudged down the stairs to the parking lot.

  Well, that’s just great, a flat tire. I dumped my stuff in the back seat then popped open the trunk, dragging out the spare tire, jack and tire iron. I had to leave the spare leaning against the back bumper because some asshole decided to park their van right on the line next to my car. Why were they even here this late? I knelt down; tiny bits of debris dug into my knees as I positioned the jack under the car’s frame.

  Ow! Shit, the top of my head glanced off the van’s side mirror when I stood back up. I cursed the shadows and asshole van drivers that didn’t know how to park and I went to work breaking loose the lug nuts.

  The tire iron clanged dully on the pavement, rolling a few inches when I released it to grab the arm wrapping around my neck. I clawed instinctively, shredding the latex glove covering the hand clamped over my mouth. My head connected with a chin, eliciting a curse as I put my foot against my car and shoved hard, making him stumble. His grip loosened when he banged into the same mirror I’d cursed earlier, and I dropped. My dead weight drove us both to the ground. I groped around on my hands and knees trying to scramble away as he grabbed at my shirt pulling me back, both of us grunting and panting.

  My fingers stumbled across the tire iron, my nails scrabbled on the asphalt to get a hold of it, but I couldn't raise it. My hands were braced, preventing him from slamming my face into the pavement as he rode my back. My knuckles were on fire, scraped raw as I clutched the metal bar. I bucked, trying to throw him off, driving his head into the mustang’s rear fender. As soon as his hand left my mouth to push off the car, I started screaming at the top of my lungs. Cursing some more, he clamped his hand back over my nose and mouth so tightly that I couldn't breathe and hauled me to my feet. I brought the iron over my head landing a wild swing with a satisfying thunk, and his hand left my mouth. I gulped in burning lungfuls of air as he tried to fend off a frenzy of awkward over the shoulder swings, none of them landing with any kind of force. Then he jerked the iron from my grip, somehow breaking the van’s window and setting off its alarm.

  With a final shove, he stumbled then took off running as I sank the ground, shaking, my sides heaving as the van continued to honk indignantly. Thankfully, a campus police car pulled into the lot a few minutes later.

  “Ma’am, are you all right? Ma’am?”

  My throat felt raw and I had to clear it before I could speak. “No… yes… I was attacked… I had a flat tire… A man grabbed me… I was attacked…”

  “Ma’am are you injured?”

  “Injured? No I don’t think so… He ran away when the car alarm went off.”

  Soon more police cars arrived, bathing the parking lot with flashing blue lights. I was sitting in one of the patrol cars wrapped in a blanket, hugging my briefcase when Daddy pulled into the parking lot. Not two minutes later, Mat’s car whipped in as well. Daddy must have called him.

  When the police blocked Daddy’s progress, I went to him, taking comfort in his arms. “Hey Daddy.” I nodded at Mat forcing words around the lump growing in my abused throat. “You didn’t need to come. I’m all right. He ran off before any real damage was done.”

  “Fuck Angie. You think I’d stay away after something like this? Look, I’ve tried to be patient, let you work through whatever shit you got rattling around under all those curls of yours… but shit… I’m done.”

  He went blurry as my eyes filled up. God, this was really it. He was done with me. I knew I’d already decided to break it off, but hearing him say it, made it real, suddenly irrevocable. I clung to Daddy, falling apart. The adrenalin carrying me to this point evaporated, my knees gave out and I found myself cradled against Mat’s chest. It was a hard comfort, and just for
a moment, I gave into temptation, burying my nose in his shirt. God I missed this. My nose was stuffy from crying which made me even sadder because I couldn’t smell him, which made me cry even harder. Yeah, I was a train wreck.

  “You’re coming with me.” Oh no.

  “No, I want to go home. Daddy they’re impounding my car. The guy may have left finger prints.”

  “Sorry baby girl, no can do. Mat’s right. You’ll be safer with him.”

  “What? No, I can’t.” No, no. There was no way I could handle that.

  “Until they catch this guy, you’re staying with Mat and he’ll accompany you everywhere. That includes meetings with your mother; she made this his business when she decided to ambush you with his ex-employee. This is not open for discussion. I want you safe.”

  “And when I go to work? Is Mat going to hang out at the lab?”

  “You can miss a few days of work. With the hours you’ve been putting, I’m sure you’re ahead of schedule.”

  “What about my research? Not to mention my boss?”

  “Bob will want you safe.”

  “Excuse me? Dr. Martin? We’re ready to take your statement if you’re up to it.” So for the next half hour I answered questions under the watchful gaze of the two most over protective men in my life.

  Angie glared at the dark outside the living room window. Thank God, she was okay; I’d almost died when Jack called. When I saw her limping across the parking, I’d decided she was moving in with me whether she liked it or not. Not, if her current mood was any indication.

  She stiffened when I wrapped my arms around her. “Relax sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

  “I don’t want to be taken care of.” God, even sulking, she was cute—oh sweetness, have I got a cure for that.

  “Sorry babe, I have to,” I murmured in her ear. “Right now you’re tired and sore, so I’m going to take care of you. But we still have unfinished business. So later, we’ll be sorting our shit out.”

  “Please Mat, don’t do this, I just want to go home.”

  I dropped my voice. “We both know you don’t mean that.” When she went soft in my arms, I knew I'd hit the right tone. “You really are an awful liar.” Tears welled in her eyes. Fuck. “Aw baby, it’s going to be all right.” I sat down on the sofa, settling her in my lap, tucked under my chin. I didn't think she realized how tightly she clung to me. I waited until I was sure the water works were over, at least for the moment, then fetched some snacks, a couple bottles of water and a fifth of whiskey.

  “Now, you’re going to eat something,” I poured some shots. “Do some shots and have a tryst with my fancy bath. It’s been missing you.”

  She smiled weakly. “You calling me a bath slut?”

  “I would never call you a slut to your face.” I handed her a shot. “Cheers.” Half an hour and four shots later, the food was gone, her eyes were glassy, and a rosy glow was back in her cheeks. “Come on sweetness, the bath awaits. Let’s soak out some of that soreness.”

  “Arms up.” I stripped off her shirt. I didn’t know if it was the whiskey or her exhaustion rendering her docile, but I was making the most of it—where in the hell did she buy her underwear—her bra was a pearly pink, her nipples barely discernible behind the sheering. I finally found the strength to look away, and noticed the bruises already darkening across her fair skin. If they caught this asshole, they’d better keep him locked up; otherwise, I'd hunt the fucker down. I turned to leave after I got her settled in the tub.

  “You’re not joining me?”

  “I’d love to join you babe, if that’s what you want.” she nodded shyly, suddenly fascinated with the water surrounding her—aw sweetheart—I didn’t wait for a second invitation. I was in the tub clutching her to my chest before she came to her senses, my throat tightening as I remembered how close I’d come to losing her.

  “Mat… Mat… Can’t breathe…” Angie pushed at me. Oops.

  I loosened my hold on her. “Sorry baby, you gave me such a scare. I almost lost you. If you hadn’t fought… God baby, I’m so proud of you.”

  “Yeah, I kinda amazed myself.” She smiled self-consciously. “Normally, when I get scared, I freeze.”

  “Apparently, not if there’s a tool within reach, then you’re a super hero: By day, a mild mannered scientist; by night, a wrench wielding warrior woman.”

  “‘Wrench wielding warrior woman?’ Alliteration much?”

  “It’s a common literary device in comics. I think I read somewhere Stan Lee started it to make his characters names more memorable: The Green Goblin, Bruce Banner, Doctor Doom, Pepper Potts.”

  “I’ve never given it much thought, but I haven’t read a lot of comics.”

  “Then you’ve missed out. Daredevil’s cool, and not just because he’s also named Mat. He was Mat Murdock before he was blinded by radioactive gunk, and his girl Electra was hot—psychotic, but hot. So about you, what did you read growing up?”

  “Popular Mechanics, Scientific America, that sort of thing.” Well, no surprise there.

  “Now that’s just wrong. For someone so well read, your education has been sorely neglected, but not to worry warrior woman.” She rolled her eyes at my continued alliteration. “It’s an oversight, easily remedied. I’m taking you to Comic-con next year.”

  “Oh no, I wouldn’t go near that insanity. Besides it’s probably sold out.”

  “I’ve got connections—save it,” I said, when she took a breath, “my mind is set.” Then to ensure her silence I kissed her thoroughly because it was hard to argue with someone else's tongue in your mouth. When we finally pulled apart, her eyes were satisfyingly glazed and both of us were breathing faster. Okay, it was time to get out because a certain part of my anatomy was perking up. “Come on sweetheart, it’s late.”

  Angie smiled when I shared my Tabasco Hot Stuff pajamas, handing her the top half along and a pair of boxers before pulling on the matching lounge pants. I patted the space next to me on the bed, waiting while she hemmed and hawed. “Angelina, don’t make me come get you. You’re exhausted and sore, so I’m just going to hold you while you sleep. Now. Come. Here.”

  She meekly came to bed, lying stiffly as I spooned behind her. The tension slowly drained from her, and I couldn't help grinning when I heard her cute little snores—oh sweetness, we’re not done with each other, not by a far sight.

  It was too hot. I squirmed under a ton of warm skin and hard muscle. Oh God, I was in bed with Mat. I breathed a sigh of relief when he rolled over and continued napping as I snuck out of bed. I ached all over. My throat felt like I’d swallowed sand, and a sour paste coated my tongue. My knuckles burned as I gripped Mat’s toothbrush. I looked up and I froze—shit, no wonder the guys were freaking out—I’d been too overwhelmed last night to notice the impressive array of bruises littering my arms, neck and face.

  After de-burring my tongue, I stood in the great-room staring gloomily through the window while the coffee finished brewing. The morning sun was way too cheerful for my mood. I’d spent another night in Mat’s bed. At least we didn’t have sex this time. He might be able to do the friends thing, but I didn't think I could maintain that kind of emotional distance.

  “Oh jeez.” Two brightly colored pythons dropped around me, constricting when I attempted to put some distance between us.

  “Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to startle you.” His chest rumbled pleasantly against my back as his whiskers caught in my hair. “How are you feeling?”

  “Okay, a little sore, but that’s to be expected. I made coffee,” I said, using bribery to extricate myself, flee to the relative safety of the kitchen while he paced after me.

  He took the cup of black coffee I shove at him and deliberately set it on the counter. I felt his eyes on me as I silently fixed my own cup. When I finished, taking my own extra sweet cup from me, setting it next to his.

  “Now sweetness,” he said, ensnaring me. “You and I have some unfinished business. What did I do
to deserve the silent treatment?”

  “You didn’t do anything. This isn’t about you.”

  “Oh, hell no. You are not going with the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ defense.” Shrugging, I couldn't look him in the eye because actually that was exactly what I’d planned to do. A perverse thrill ran through me when he added, “Don’t make me whip out the power tools.” God, I was a sick, sick girl.

  “Mat, I just can’t—the last few days have been hard and we’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks. If I fall anymore in love with you, I won’t be able to survive you leaving me.”

  “Leave you? I’m not going anywhere, unless you know something I don’t… Oh, God, am I dying?” He grinned down at me, and although I fought it, I couldn't help but grin back.

  “Talk to me, babe.” Shit, I hated that I loved what his voice did to me.

  “I don’t think we’ve been going out long enough for the ‘where do you see us in the future’ talk.”

  “It’s also too soon for a funeral. Normally, you wait for the patient to die. Besides, I can tell you exactly what I see in our future: You here in my house, in my bed every night and every morning.” He wanted me to move in with him? No, I was misunderstanding. His grey eyes searched my face. “Talk to me.”

  The opening bars of Peer Gynt’s ‘Hall of the Mountain King’ saved me—for someone who claims to be at war with technology, Les was surprisingly proficient at reprogramming my cell. “That’s my boss, I have to take that.”

  Mat pinned me in place with his hips, and snaked my phone off the counter, unlocking it with a swipe of his thumb. “Hey Bob, it’s Mat… Yeah, she’s banged up pretty good… Uh huh…” Mat stretched to his full height, batting my hand away. “Uh huh… Yeah, I plan to… Hold on…” He finally handed me my phone.

  “Morning Bob.” I guess my death glare needed some work because he just smirked, totally unfazed. Oversized jerk. “So I guess you heard about last night?”