Chapter 8 #2
Her glossy lips twitch. “Should we paint that on the car window?”
I chuckle. “Probably shouldn’t be that obvious.”
I can see the moment she relaxes, slumping down in the seat a little as the adrenaline from our reconnaissance mission wears off.
The rest of the drive is pleasant as we volley a few ideas back and forth.
The woman is brilliant, and it’s obvious why she’s so good at what she does.
Yes, she’s gorgeous, but she has a brain, too.
And it’s full of intriguing insights and interesting suggestions.
We stay in for the rest of the day and begin seriously plotting. Time flies by, and when evening arrives, we abandon our planning session to search through the pantry, deciding to make spaghetti. Quick and simple. And incredibly domestic.
As we boil water for the pasta and simmer sauce on the stove, my gut warns me to keep things professional. But this woman has me so damn curious, and when we sit down at the table together, I find myself getting personal.
“What made you so interested in the Phantom Orchid?” I ask, twisting my fork in the sauce and noodles.
“You do know my name, right?” she asks, voice dry.
“I kind of assumed Bella Diamond was an alias.”
She hesitates for a moment before evading my statement. “What can I say? I like sparkly things.”
The more I look at her—take in her expressions, the inflection in her voice when she gets excited, the way she moves—the more I see the woman under the mask.
And, dammit, I really like what I see. She’s refreshing, and so strong.
Yet, at the same time, I’ve seen her vulnerable side, too.
There are so many sides to her, like a multi-faceted diamond, and I’d like to get to know so much more.
But once she closes off, it’s like trying to scale Heidenreichstein Castle.
It’s not gonna happen without some serious plotting, and maybe even a little scheming.
The last thing I want to do is push her away and ruin the tentative trust we’ve built. So after a long day of recon, I say goodnight and disappear into my room. After a quick shower, I check my emails, touch base with Addie and return a text to Knox.
Lying on the bed, hands tucked behind my head, I stare up at the ceiling.
Even though it’s after midnight, my brain refuses to shut down, swirling with thoughts of the heist and my lovely companion.
I swear, I can smell her jasmine scent all the way from her room. And it’s going to be the death of me.
With a frustrated growl, I get up and decide to go get some fresh air.
When I walk past Bella’s room, I’m surprised to see the door is open and the small lamp beside the bed is on, but there’s no sign of her.
Worry hits me hard as my gaze sweeps the dark living room, because I already see it’s empty.
Where is she?
The place isn’t big, and there’s nowhere else she could be.
Which means she must be outside. Hurrying to the front door—the unlocked front door—I throw it open.
Stepping outside, I see her standing on the cobblestone pathway, hugging herself, head tipped back and looking up at the clear, star-filled sky.
“Is everything okay?” I say softly, hoping not to startle her as I move closer.
She glances over. “Fine. I was just… restless. I thought a walk might help.”
My heart stops its rapid-fire thundering in my chest once I see she’s okay. Reaching her side, I touch her elbow. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”
“Why not? If you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of nowhere.” Her mouth edges up in a smile. “Aww, were you worried about me?”
“You’re my partner. Of course, I was worried.” I keep my tone brusque and businesslike and ignore her smirk. Focusing on the little garden ahead, I tilt my head toward it and admit, “I couldn’t sleep either. Care to take a walk?”
We start walking down the narrow pathway, side by side, arms touching. It feels strangely right being next to her like this. For the life of me, I can’t explain it, but she settles something in me. Something that’s always been restless and unhappy.
If I’m being honest, it’s a little terrifying.
And I can’t shake the feeling we’re way more alike than we are different.
“It’s nice to be out here, away from the city lights,” she murmurs. “I grew up in the countryside.”
I slant a look down at her. “That must’ve been nice. I was always being shuttled from one city to the next.”
“Because you kept setting your schools on fire?”
A laugh erupts from my chest. “No, smartass.” I heave out a breath, turning somber again. “Because my parents couldn’t be bothered with me.”
We stop walking. Wildflowers dance on the cool night breeze and I hear an owl hoot from the nearby woods.
“Sounds like their divorce was rough on you.”
“Not really,” I admit, turning to face her.
“We were never close. I mean, there was this one time my dad and I hung out for a few weeks in Europe. He and the stepwitch weren’t talking.
We got along so well, and it kind of raised my hopes, but then…
” I shrug, wishing he and Wanda had never made up.
I know it’s selfish, but I always believed she kept my father away from me on purpose.
“Anyway, I came to the conclusion that most kids and parents rarely interacted. Parents did adult things and kids were sent off to stay out of their hair.”
Her brow pinches. “That’s really sad. My dad and I were so close.”
“Most kids I knew barely saw their parents, me included. You’re lucky, Bella.
” I search her eyes, which are locked on me, and the breeze lifts a dark strand of her hair, blowing it across her face.
Reaching out, I brush it back, tucking it behind her ear.
And it hits me out of nowhere—she doesn’t look like her name should be Bella.
I’m not sure why, but I say it out loud. “You don’t look like a Bella.”
Her lips part and her expression shifts. After a long moment, she murmurs, “Because I’m a Delaney.”
Well, I’ll be damned. “That fits,” I say in a hushed tone. Lifting my hand, I cup her face. “Delaney fits you perfectly.”
When she doesn’t pull away, I lean in and do what I’ve been thinking about all day. What I’ve been dying to do.
I kiss her senseless.