10. Rhett
10
RHETT
S loane quickly disappears up the stairs with her daughter—who looks like the spitting image of her mom, except for the color of her eyes and the dimple in her chin. The look she gives me, though, is full of the same awareness and intellect as her mother.
I call Cole the moment she’s out of my sight. “She’s home. Safe, as far as I can see. She’s got her daughter.”
“Did she tell you anything?”
I want to laugh at that prospect. She hasn’t told us much of anything since she showed up at her office this morning. “Other than ‘no’? Not really.”
I can practically hear Cole grinding his teeth on the other end of the line. “Stay on her. She’ll come talk to you eventually. Even if not until morning.”
“Yes, Boss.” The plan was to stick around as long as it took, anyway. But she had no reason to go so far out of her way on the drive home. At least, none that are evident to me. I’d already parked in the far end of the lot by the time she was stopped off the exit of the highway.
We aren’t the only ones with access to all of her information, like her license plate number and her address—as new as it is.
Sloane won’t appreciate our digging, but we’ve seen this kind of thing before, and she’s not safe on her own. And it’ll take something big enough to hurt her before she’ll give up that fight.
I can see it in her. Cole and Shepard can, too.
Funny how the three of us already feel pulled to protect her.
I wait on the stoop for another few minutes before I walk the perimeter and go sit in my car. It’s where I’d planned to be all night, anyway.
The original plan wasn’t to let her know I was out here. Even with that blown, I wish she invited me inside with her. Cole picked me before lunch since she seemed to open up to me. Just a little. Now, we’ll see if any of that good Karma pays off.
I settle in with my binoculars and long-lens camera. Neither helps to point me away from being some kind of stalker to the passersby, but no one in this neighborhood is going to call the police over it.
Someone might come knock on my window, though. Ask me what my deal is. Pick a fight. But no one is calling the police.
It’ll likely work in my favor. Usually does. Especially with my darker complexion and exotic features.
It’s full dark and getting cold when Sloane emerges. She’s bundled in a bulky sweatshirt, but when the wind blows, her shoulders lift around her ears to protect her neck.
I step out of my car, leaning against the closed door as she approaches.
“You plan to be here all night?” Sloane calls across the lot, her progress slow.
“I do.”
She rolls her eyes and lifts a travel mug in her hand, offering it to me when she’s close enough. “You’ll need this, then. But I need it back in the morning. It’s my only one.”
“I can do that.” The moment pauses. She doesn’t retreat, and we stare at each other.
She’s freshly showered, hair still damp and tied up in a messy bun. Her ears are pink and so are her cheeks and nose. Those dark blue eyes stare holes into me, but it’s not an unpleasant sensation. It’s rather like she actually sees me.
Or perhaps, it’s a response to my seeing her. I have a feeling she hasn’t had a lot of people acknowledge how smart and resourceful she is. Beautiful, yes, because she certainly is that. But beauty is only taken seriously in advertising and art.
I’m also pretty sure I’m about to piss her off. “What happened?”
Her agitation is clear in the way her arms tighten around her waist and her eyes narrow. She doesn’t walk away like I expect her to, though.
“Just someone going the same way as me who had a lead foot and was too stupid to lay off. That’s all.”
The thing is… I don’t believe in coincidences.
Someone has her information. It stands to reason that someone likely followed her on her ride home. I’m just wondering if it’s our bad guys checking her out or her ex causing trouble.
“It was nothing. There's no reason to waste the rest of your night here.”
I shrug at her. “We deal with dangerous people, Sloane. And the person who came to see you yesterday is connected to those people. I could guard you better from inside, but I can guard you out here just fine.”
And I plan to, no matter what she says.
The wind blows, and she steps forward instead of back toward the building. Tension draws tight between us.
I want her to invite me inside. I want to see what her place looks like, how she moves in it, how she interacts with her daughter. I want to sit on her couch and talk to her.
Too many questions linger on my tongue. Too many of them have to do with why she’s here and her ex.
Her hair is wild across her face, but she makes no move to brush it away as she peers up at me. “What are your usual assignments, Rhett?”
My fingers itch to tuck her loose hair behind her ear.
The wind blows again, and she’s nearly against my car, so I turn to block the wind from hitting her. Cold wafts up the bottom of my jacket. It’s good, staving off the rising heat in my center.
“The kind where someone usually dies.”
Sloane hugs herself as she looks away.
That’s right, sweetheart. What we do is serious. What’s happening to you is serious. Let us protect you.
But when her eyes lift again, she’s assessing me and all of the thoughts evident on my face.
Anger lingers in Sloane, but her curiosity is winning out. “Fine. Stay here all night if you’re convinced, but don’t signal danger to my daughter by waiting out here on my porch like some macho power play. She’s seen enough to make her scared without your adding to it.”
Yeah, that might have been a bad power play on my part. I’ll make it worse if I lean in and kiss her right now, and I want to. The stern set to her features warns me off.
She’s still searching me as I tip closer, another gust of wind at my back.
I nod. I don’t want to scare her little girl, but I will if it will keep her safe. We’re just not there yet.
She nods back, blinks at me for a second, and then marches away. “There’s a public bathroom at the corner gas station. It’s open all night.”
That has me smiling even though she doesn’t look back.
I settle back in my car and try to stay warm. The coffee helps.
But it also spins a series of daydreams about breaching the apartment building and catching Sloane in the hallway outside her front door, curling a hand around her waist, and drawing her close. I fantasize about how warm she’ll feel against me, the front of our bodies pressed together.
How her mouth will part, and I’ll swoop in to take the kiss I’ve been craving all day.
I’m surprised by how strongly I’m pulled to her. I’ve been attracted to plenty of women since my wife left me, but none that made me want them as badly as this.
The images help keep me warm, even though they don’t drift far beyond a little kissing and cuddling.
It’s disconcerting.
Nothing happens overnight, but around six thirty A.M., her daughter knocks on my window. Her eyes are big and bright, and she looks up at me with the same kind of curiosity her mother does. When I glance up, I catch Sloane waiting at the building’s door, holding it open with a hip, her arms crossed.
I crack open the door to talk to her, and she easily fills the space.
“Well, hello,” I greet her.
“Hi. Mom said I couldn’t invite you in for breakfast but that you could bring up her thermos and maybe leave with a breakfast burrito.” Her big eyes blink at him with the same shape as her mother’s. The same discerning calculation.
“Deal.”
Reese waves her hand in a hurry up motion. “Come on. You’d better hurry before she changes her mind. She does that sometimes.”
And the little girl hurries back to her mom.
I grab the thermos and follow. The building is narrow with a set of stairs on the left. Latching the door behind me, I fall into step behind Sloane as her daughter goes up first. I try to keep my eyes off her ass, but it’s a losing battle.
I haven’t stopped thinking about her all night. About this.
Her apartment is on the second floor, just off the stairs—not a particularly safe location, but the traffic through might deter petty crimes. It has to be loud and a bit obnoxious. Probably why it was open.
Probably why she’d been able to move in so quickly. It took less than a week between her application and her move-in date.
Inside her door, Sloane holds out her hand. I close the door and lean against it with a raised brow.
“Wait here.” Then she gestures for the thermos.
I hand it over, and she takes it to the sink to wash it. Her daughter is sitting at a card table in front of her window with her own breakfast burrito half eaten and a full mouth.
A box sits beside it. There’s a couch but no coffee table or TV. The rest of the living room is bare. I’ll bet the kitchen cabinets and fridge are equally as bare, like she brought nothing with her to fill them up.
Sloane returns with a tinfoil wrapped burrito and an assessing look. “I have fresh coffee if you can drink it fast.”
I smile at her. “Okay.”
She goes and returns with a steaming mug. I take it, and she slips away again, brushing hair back from her daughter’s face. “Finish up and go wash your face, Ketchup Queen.”
I drink the coffee as fast as I can, but it’s scalding hot. Blowing across the surface between sips, I watch Sloane move around her apartment, packing Reese’s backpack, slipping in a brown paper sack lunch.
Her hair is down, sliding across her shoulders and back in long waves. She looks so young when she isn’t glaring at me. Even though her confidence and authority don’t waver one bit.
When Reese pops out of her chair, exclaiming that she’s done, Sloane meets her halfway to grab her plate before shooing her off to the bathroom.
I’m taking larger gulps as she turns to me, ready to be evicted. She meets me at the door as Reese disappears into the bathroom behind a closed door.
“Almost done?”
I nod, tipping the mug up for the last dregs. It’ll be enough to get me home and through a shower before I crash. I offer her the empty mug.
“I can drive you in to work.”
She frowns at me but doesn’t back away. “I have to drop my daughter off at school.”
“Okay.” If that’s her only qualm, I’ve made progress. Or at least, I think I have until she shakes her head.
“No. And you won’t follow me there, either.” Her tone is firm but not as hateful as it was last night.
“It’s my job.”
Her finger whips into my face, the scolding incoming. “No. I don’t want any attention brought to my daughter and her school. No. Back off.”
I grab her wrist and pull her closer. We’re nearly pressed together, and I’m flashed back to the daydreams that kept me company all night. Her honeysuckle scent is intoxicating.
“You don’t think they already know about her and her school? It’s in your personnel file, Sloane. And all of the changes you’ve made recently, they’re easy to find online if you know where to look.”
She yanks at my grip on her wrist, but I don’t let her go. I need her to understand how serious this is. It makes me want to shake her out of frustration.
Sloane steps in, eliminating the little space left between us. Her body is lush under that oversized blouse. Warm.
Fuck, her mouth is soft and parts on a breath as I stare at it.
Resist temptation, asshole. You just met her. You’re meant to protect her. She’s going through enough without this on her plate, too.
But she’s looking at my mouth. Her nostrils flare and her pupils dilate.
My hand lifts to cup the back of her neck, fingers weaving through her hair, and I’m ready to take what I want. I can practically taste her mouth.
The bathroom door opens, and Sloane whirls away as her daughter steps back into the living room.
Sloane grabs the door handle behind me, opening the door and practically pushing me out of it. I don’t fight her because she wanted me to kiss her. The realization is blazing in her eyes as she meets my gaze.
“See you at work.”
And she shuts the door in my face. For a second time.