Chapter Nineteen
Light kisses on my shoulder roused me from sleep.
“Hmm, good morning,” I said in a low voice.
“Good morning, my goddess of the hunt,” Patrick said, his soft breath at my neck.
I smiled. Yes, he could say that. I had, after all, captured and contained him with his own handcuffs. My eyes sprang open. “Patrick, your hands. Are they okay?”
He opened a hand, made a fist, and opened it again. “All good. Circulation is back.”
I cringed at the thought of having locked the cuffs too tight. “I feel awful. Why didn’t you say something?”
“I, uh, didn’t want to interrupt,” he said.
I brushed his cheek. “You are being too nice. You should’ve charged me with assault.” I traced his lips with my finger, and he gently took the tip between his teeth. I smiled and inched closer until bare skin touched bare skin. Heat transferred, and energy pulsed between us.
Patrick glanced at the handcuffs on the night table.
“No. We don’t need those,” I said.
“Sure?”
I nodded.
In a swift motion, he pulled the covers away and rolled to hover over me. His kisses devoured hungrily, even after last night. How could that be? Never mind. I would not question it, just go with it.
From the night table, the tinny sound of Patrick’s phone alarm sounded. He appeared not to hear it, but then pulled away to look at his phone.
“I hadn’t realized the time.” He sighed. “We should get ready.”
“If we must,” I said and kissed him on the nose. We shifted and got on our feet. I went over to my travel bag and rummaged through limited clothing choices.
“Want to jump in the shower first?” he said.
“No, go ahead. I have to sort things here,” I said.
“I won’t be long,” he said and disappeared into the hallway.
Today’s outfit would be a soft pink tunic and paisley printed jeans. I placed the items on the chair in the room's corner and started making the bed. My phone beeped with a text message from an unfamiliar number. I clicked on it, and my heart leapt.
—Good morning, June. This is Aram. I hope you don’t mind, but I asked Vinny for your number. He said you’d be in later, but I want to make sure you’re okay. Maybe yesterday was too much for you.—
I read the message again. No, this wasn’t cool.
Patrick entered the bedroom wearing a towel around his waist. I logged out from the text screen and tossed the phone on the bed.
“I put out a fresh bath sheet and facecloth for you.” He opened his closet. “Hear from anyone?”
“What? No, just checking my emails. I’ll go shower now.”
Once in the bathroom, I shut the door and collected my thoughts. Aram’s unexpected text startled me. But what I found most disturbing was my reaction to it. I’d lied. My heart pounded. My past relationship with Aram loomed over me like a dark heavy cloud.
I squeezed toothpaste onto my toothbrush. There was a firm knock on the door, and I jumped like a jittery squirrel.
“June, want eggs and toast?”
“Sounds wonderful,” I said.
Absently, I looked at my reflection in the mirror, thinking of my situation. I had hesitated too long. It was time to clear the air. Patrick would probably never feel the same way about me again. And he may never trust me again. But before we went any farther in our relationship, he had to know the truth. I had had an affair with a married man. He had been separated at the time, but I should have stayed away, nonetheless. And that man had been Aram.
The timing would never be right, but I couldn’t bear to keep this secret about my spotty character any longer. I wouldn’t leave this house until I told Patrick what I had done. I was ready for his reaction, which would probably be in the range from disappointment to breakup.
I joined him in the kitchen as he took orange juice from the fridge. I eased myself onto a chair at the table.
“Thank you for breakfast,” I said, but I didn’t reach for my fork.
“No problem. Juice?”
“Sure,” I said, and he poured me a glass. I took a sip.
Patrick hadn’t started eating yet. He looked at me as if he was assessing a motor vehicle accident, and I was the mangled metal. I shifted in my chair. Seconds felt long, and awkwardness hung in the air. He sensed my solemn mood.
I nibbled on a wedge of toast, mentally preparing for my confession. “Patrick, I need to tell you about a past relationship.”
“No, June. You don’t need to tell me anything.”
“But I think it’d be best to get skeletons out of the closet now, before we get involved any further. Don’t you agree?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m usually non-reactionary, but if you tell me this person harmed you, I’d have to hurt him.”
His willingness to come to my aid without question soothed my heart. “I wasn’t hurt, physically. But in that relationship, I was to blame as well. I had behaved badly. I—”
“June, how about we leave it all in the past?” he said. “Is it all in the past?”
I nodded. “Yes. Completely.”
Tightness released from my chest, and his kindness filled my heart. I picked up my fork.
As we ate, Patrick opened his black notepad. “I’d like to quickly review our next steps with Dr. Fulthorpe, if you don’t mind shop talk for a minute.”
“Not at all,” I said lightly.
“Perfect,” he said. “I called the hematology clinic and found out Dr. Fulthorpe starts seeing patients at eight in the morning, so we’ll arrive before that time. We’ll begin by presenting him with the court order, which arrived via email sometime last night.” He glanced at me with a subtle smirk, most certainly caused by thoughts of us being too preoccupied the previous evening to check our emails.
He sobered his expression and continued speaking. “We’ll play it by ear. Ask questions and see how far we get. This may be a short meeting. He may not have a clue as to why his business card was found in that location.”
I nodded and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Perhaps when introducing yourself you can mention you’re a lab scientist and you are working with forensic pathologist, Dr. Hamid on this case. Then we can see how he reacts. Gauge how forthright he is about divulging personal information about being acquainted with Dr. Hamid.”
I wasn’t comfortable setting this doctor up to evaluate his reaction. But Patrick had his operating procedures and certainly knew what he was doing. “I’ll give it a go,” I said, trying to sound upbeat.
“Great. It’s a plan,” he said and finished his drink. “Try not to be nervous, babe. This could be a lead, and it’s all because of you.”
His empathy touched my heart. I cared for him. Loved him. So very much.
Suddenly, I had a fear of losing him.