18. There Are Always Options
VINCENT’S GAZE HOLDS mine as he leans toward the phone. ”I”ll call you back.” He releases me long enough to disconnect the call, but as soon as that”s done he’s touching me again, scooting his chair closer so my thighs are spread around his chest as both hands grip my ass to pull me in. ”I need you to tell me who you reached out to in Nashville.”
I shake my head, opening my mouth to reply, but he cuts me off.
”I”m not asking, Jules. I”m telling you. I need to know who you reached out to in Nashville.”
I scowl. ”And before you interrupted me, I was trying to tell you that I didn”t reach out to anyone in Nashville.”
Vincent”s eyes narrow on me, like he doesn”t believe what I”m telling him. ”No one?”
”No one.” Yes, I approached a few different organizations before I came across GHOST, but not a single one of them was located in Nashville. Mostly because I’m ready to get the fuck out of Nashville. I”ve lived there my whole life and it doesn”t necessarily hold the best memories for me. Now that both my sons are gone at different colleges across the country, nothing ties me to the place.
Vincent studies me a second longer and I wonder if he still doesn”t believe me, but his tone gentles. ”My team needs access to your system, Jules. I need you to let them have it so we can find out who the fuck showed up at your condo, because we both know they weren”t there with good intentions.”
I didn”t technically know that, but I assumed that Vincent wouldn’t go around shooting harmless people. And harmless people don”t necessarily hunt down innocent women in the middle of the night. Both of those realizations make it a little easier to come to terms with the killing we both did.
So I know Vincent”s right. I know this is what needs to happen. And I”m actually okay with it. I nod. ”I can do that, but I”ll need Internet.”
Vincent takes a slow breath, and I get the feeling he”s trying to keep from losing his shit. ”Okay.”
He seems a little on edge, but not dangling from the cliff, so I decide to push for just a tiny bit more. ”It would probably be more helpful for everyone if I”m there, helping them understand what they”re seeing.”
Vincent”s lips flatten. ”Absolutely not. You’re staying here.”
I lift one shoulder and let it drop, trying to seem casual and like I don”t know I have the upper hand. ”That”s fine. It might take them a few months to understand the encoding, but I guess that”s fine.”
Vincent lifts his hand from my thigh, this time to rub over his face. I know he”s tired. It’s been a long few days. I get it. I”m not trying to be difficult—really I”m not.
But his options are limited.
Vincent takes another breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he blows it back out. ”What do you mean, understand the encoding?”
”There’s a program that will do some of it, but it won”t translate everything.” I”m not going to smile now, but I desperately want to. Because Vincent’s about to be very upset with me. “Part of it is in my head, so they’ll have to try to decipher that without any sort of a key.”
Vincent”s hand drops and his expression is almost comical.
”I tried to tell you that you should hire me,” I whisper, because I know I shouldn”t be saying it. I know it’s the last thing he wants to hear, but I can”t help it. I would have been good for his team and I”m getting no small amount of enjoyment over him being faced with that truth.
”Not the time, Jules.” Vincent sighs loudly before pushing to his feet, rolling his chair back across the tiled floor. ”Come on then.” He tugs me off the desk. ”I was going to take you to bed and fuck you into tomorrow, but if this is what you want—”
I drag my feet a little. ”Wait a minute.”
He pulls me harder, the hand holding mine gripping tight. ”No changing your mind now, Angel Face. You made your choice. Now you’ve gotta live with it.”
I scoff. ”I didn”t know the options.”
He stops short and my momentum carries me straight into his chest when he spins to face me. Vincent”s arm locks around my waist, pinning my front to his. ”You should always assume me fucking you into tomorrow is an option.”
Before I can react, he’s turning away and dragging me down the hall again.
”I can”t go like this.” I motion at my sloppy appearance with one hand even though he”s not looking at me. I don”t want to walk into GHOST headquarters in Vincent”s clothes and socked feet. The least he can do is wait until I can get my hands on a more appropriate outfit.
”Again, you made your choice.” He keeps leading me through the house, past the kitchen to the garage, but pauses at the door, opening the closet beside it to retrieve a heavy coat. He wraps it around me, zipping it up before lifting the hood over my head. ”Your things will be here in the morning. Until then, we have to work with what we”ve got.”
Once I”m bundled up, he takes me out into the garage and piles me into the sleek SUV we drove from the airport. He belts me in and closes the door before taking his place behind the wheel. After punching the button to open the overhead door and starting the engine, he turns on my seat warmer and adjusts the vents, making sure every bit of warmth they produce is directed my way.
”I”m not cold.” I love him taking care of me like this, but I don”t want Vincent to think I”m not capable of surviving in Alaska. Would it be better if I had actual clothes on instead of sweatpants and socks? Probably, but I won”t die. Except maybe of embarrassment when his team sees me like this.
”Good.” Vincent backs out of the garage, pausing to close the door before using a small bit of paved space to turn around so we leave his gated driveway facing forward. Now that I”m a little rested and paying more attention, I notice something odd.
”Why is your driveway so clear?” There is snow stacked everywhere, but Vincent”s driveway is empty of any sort of snowfall or ice. There are piles of it lining each side, but even shoveling wouldn”t get it this clear.
”It”s heated.”
I stare at him, my mouth hanging open. ”You have a heated driveway?”
He shrugs, like it”s no big deal.
But it is a big deal. I know exactly how much a heated driveway costs. My ex looked into it at one point and decided he had two sons he could make shovel it for free. And our driveway was only a quarter the length of Vincent”s.
I twist in my seat, turning back to look at the house. It”s illuminated by upward facing lights positioned around the perimeter, making it breathtakingly beautiful in the dark. The location is prime, offering amazing views while still being decently close to the city. Everything about it is high-end and luxurious, from the wall-to-wall windows to the automated curtains.
And now I feel stupid because I freaking thought Vincent lived at GHOST’s headquarters. Not once did I ever consider how much a man who owns a company like his would make. Not once did I really consider he was more than his job. More than the man I saw staring back at me with a scowl.
I face forward, wrapping my brain around everything I”ve discovered about Vincent over the past few days. Some things are exactly as I expected. He”s every bit as attractive as I knew he would be. Smells just as good. He”s successful. Driven. Focused.
Grouchy.
But he’s so much more than that. He plays the piano because it reminds him of the mother he clearly loved. He has a bathroom with two sinks even though only one ever gets used. And he only sleeps on one side of his king-sized bed.
Because Vincent is many things, and one of them is lonely.
Yet, no one”s been to his house. No one’s slept in his bed or used that spare sink. He”s never made anyone breakfast or introduced them to Radar and Vera.
He’s lonely by choice, but I don”t understand why.
”Have you ever been married?” It”s the most logical conclusion. I know firsthand what a bad marriage can do to a person. The way it changes them. I think mine changed me for the better, but I know that”s not always how it goes.
”No, Jules. I”ve never been married.”
I press my lips together, trying not to ask another question, but I can”t help it. ”Engaged?”
Vincent shakes his head. ”No.”
I clench my teeth and flatten my lips, doing my best to keep them sealed together even though I know I”m going to fail.
Sucking in a breath, I open my mouth, but he cuts me off.
”No relationships of any kind. Not ever.”
I”m shocked. Both that he volunteered the information, and that he’s never had someone. ”Why not?”
His jaw clenches, flexing hard. ”Because.”
”Because, why?”
His eyes come my way, meeting over the console. ”Because I didn”t want one.”
”Oh.” His answer deflates me. I’m not sure what I thought was happening between us—I don”t know that I really considered it—but I realize now I thought it was something. Something more than just the physical attraction we clearly share.
And maybe it is. I can allow myself to fall back into those old, insecure ways once forced upon me, or I can look at this objectively, which is what I”m best at.
Objectively speaking, I’m the first woman, besides his housekeeper, who”s ever been in Vincent”s house. I’m the first woman to sleep in his bed. The first woman to meet his cat.
He also killed three men for me. Whisked me away from danger even though it”s turning his life upside down. Those aren’t the actions of a man who just wants to get his dick wet.
I reach across the console and lace my fingers through his, just to see what will happen. To test my theory that Vincent sees me as more.
Vincent”s eyes snap down to the point of contact, holding a second before his long fingers curve around mine, confirming my suspicions and smoothing my ruffled feathers.
Just because he’s never had a relationship before doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want one now. And as crazy as it sounds, the thought of staying at his side feels right. Like that’s exactly where I should be.
His thumb tracks a slow pass across my skin as we drive, making our way down from the mountain he lives on. It”s close enough to Fairbanks that it”s not a treacherous commute, but far enough away that it”s not a quick trip, giving me plenty of time to prepare for what I”m about to face. And I”m pretty sure it”s going to be a shit show, because I have to assume no one there is expecting me.
Vincent stays quiet the rest of the drive, but I can see the tension building in his body. The tightness bunching across his shoulders.
Bringing me here is stressing him out. I can feel it radiating off him, so I decide, no matter what, I”m going to be on my best behavior. I”m not here to impress anyone—I believe Vincent when he says he”s not hiring me—but I don”t want my presence to cause issues. And, based on the scowl tightening Vincent”s face, it seems like he”s expecting it to cause issues.
I can tell when we start to get close, not only because Vincent looks ready to stroke out, but also because I recognize a little of my surroundings. I”ve stared at the Google map of this area more times than I can count, and it”s surreal to be here. Even more so to be here with Vincent beside me.
When we finally take the last turn and GHOST headquarters comes into view, my heart rate picks up. Even though I know this isn”t the way I hoped to be here, it’s still exciting. Still a little bit of a dream come true. And it takes everything I have to smother the smile trying to work onto my face.
Instead of parking in front of the boring, but huge, building, Vincent circles to the back, punching the button on a second opener clipped to his visor. One of the bays at the back of the gigantic warehouse-type structure opens and we drive inside, parking at the end of a row of identical vehicles. There”s also a line of economy-sized vans and a selection of random cars filling what amounts to an indoor parking garage.
Once we’re in place, Vincent opens his door, gripping my hand tighter before he gets out. ”Stay put. I”m coming to get you.” He releases his grip and slides out. I wait because I need to follow his lead on this. This is his world, and while I might not ever be an official part of it, I certainly don”t want to get kicked out on my first visit.
He opens my door, standing back as I climb out, my feet decently cushioned by the thick fabric of his socks. He leads me on a path that avoids the wet streaks we just tracked in, ignoring the guy manning the desk just outside the entrance to the main part of the building as he presses one thumb to a reader. The door unlocks and we step inside. Just like that, I get my first glimpse of GHOST headquarters.
It’s... Not what I expected.
The hall in front of me is as boring and nondescript as the exterior. It could be a part of any office building or school across the country. The walls are beige. The industrial carpet is beige. Even the doors are painted beige.
I was expecting something sleeker. A little modern. Maybe even futuristic. This is just… Blah.
I stay at Vincent’s side as he walks down the boring corridor, leading me back toward the front of the building. He presses his full palm to another scanner and a heavy set of double doors clicks open. He pushes inside, holding the door for me, and I step in, sucking in a breath.
”Oh wow.” I whisper the words, because I don”t want to interrupt any of the dozens of people working around me. The room is gigantic, with a circular, tiered set-up that narrows to a smaller, sunken pit in the center. A huge, double-sided glass screen juts up from the center, offering everyone in the room a view of what”s displayed there. The lighting is low, and the walls and ceiling are painted black so the countless monitors can be dimmed to reduce eyestrain.
Thisis what I was expecting.
We’re standing there for a good fifteen seconds before a single head comes our way. When it does, it”s the man sitting at the very center of the room. He looks back at his screen almost immediately, his eyes only off us for a split second before swinging back in a double take, his angular jaw going slack. He stands and comes our way, climbing the small set of stairs leading up from the pit. He tips his head at Vincent in greeting, his eyes darting my way before moving back to Vincent. ”Hey, boss. I wasn”t expecting you to be in today.”
Vincent”s expression is flat. ”I wasn”t expecting to come in, but I understand we”ve identified the four men from Nashville.” His voice is flat and almost bland. So is his expression. I hide my reaction to this change as best I can and stay quiet, because I don”t know what the fuck just happened to Vincent.
He”s many things, but bland has never been one of them. Angry, frustrated, amused, exasperated—yes. Bland… no.
”That”s right.” The man nods. ”We’re still digging into their backgrounds, but so far they all seem to reside in and around the Nashville area.” The man”s eyes come my way again before refocusing on Vincent. ”I can show you what we have if you want.”
”That”s not why I”m here.” Vincent”s cool gaze moves around the room. ”Since your team hasn”t been able to navigate Julieanne’s system, she came to assist you.”
I swallow hard at the realization starting to settle around me. Vincent was not as full of shit as I thought he was. He is, in fact, an asshole. The man I”m looking at now is almost emotionless. Stiff. Stern. Uncaring and unamused by anything and everything.
And I”m fucked-up enough that it makes me want to smile.
Being divorced did make me better, but you don”t come out of a twenty-year dysfunctional marriage without being a little damaged. And this is what I ended up with—being freaking giddy over a man who treats everyone but me like shit.
Holy heck how the tables have turned.
The man zeroes in on me, and this time his attention stays. He tips his head at me in the same greeting he gave Vincent. ”Nice to meet you, Julieanne.”
I don”t smile at him because I feel like that”s what Vincent would want. ”It”s Ms. Marello.” I feel Vincent”s eyes come to me, so I keep doing what I”m doing. ”Where will I be sitting?” I try to match Vincent”s tone. Try to be what he is. He brought me here, so I’m a reflection of him, and I”m going to do my damnedest to make him proud.
The man in front of me tucks his chin, like he”s not quite sure what to make of me. ”Of course. You’re more than welcome to use my desk.” He turns, going back down the long steps. I glance at Vincent, looking for reassurance.
He jerks his chin toward the steps, indicating I should follow, but I swear I can see a hint of a smile teasing his hard mouth.
It”s all the encouragement I need to keep going as I am.
I follow the man to his desk, immediately dropping into the seat. He makes no move to walk away so I turn to him, giving him my best Vincent inspired glare. ”I”ll let you know if I need anything.”