Chapter 16. Are We Going to Talk About It? #2
I turn on the light as he closes the door behind us. The office looks like I remember it. Neat and tidy, with a desk, some bookshelves, and a filing cabinet.
“Did you just touch the light switch with an ungloved hand?” Oliver asks.
“We’re not committing a crime.”
“You sure about that?”
“Okay, okay. I didn’t bring gloves.”
He reaches into his pocket and produces two pairs.
“More visual aids?”
“Yep.”
“What else you got in there?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
I take a pair of gloves from him and put them on. “What are we looking for?”
“Anything that will give us some insight into what Guy was doing here.”
“Wouldn’t the police have already taken that?”
“We know him better than they do. Maybe they overlooked something.”
I look around. Guy’s laptop is gone, but everything else is in order.
“I’ll take the filing cabinet,” I say.
“I’ll check the books.”
I go to the filing cabinet while he goes to the bookshelf. I open the top drawer. There are lots of files in it, some that look quite old. I take my time flipping through them while Oliver takes each book out and makes sure it doesn’t have anything in it or behind it.
Which leaves way too much time for my exhausted brain to wander.
“So, are we going to talk about it?” I ask.
“What?”
“The rose petals on the bed last night.”
“Oh, that.”
I want to look at him, but I don’t. “Yeah, that.”
“There were rose petals on the bed.”
“I noticed. How did they get there?”
He clears his throat. “Harper put them there.”
My heart starts to accelerate. “Is this the surprise you two had planned for me?”
“Yep.”
“Just that?”
“Nope.”
“I see.”
I can hear him put a book down gently on the table, and then he’s standing behind me. He places his hands on my shoulders. “Not how I wanted this to go.”
I take a deep breath, taking him in. “I can imagine.”
“And it doesn’t seem like the right time.”
“No.”
“You’re saying no?”
I turn around quickly and catch his hands in the air. I feel a jolt like the first time we ever touched. It’s something that’s never gone away, the current that runs between us. “I would never say no to you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He brings his gloved hands to my face and pulls me in slowly. He brushes his lips against mine, once, twice, a third time, and I want to pull him into an embrace, but this is his show.
I’m letting him lead.
For once.
He deepens the kiss, probing my lips open with his tongue. My body responds, melting into him, feeling how well we match each another, the temperature rising as the world falls away and it’s just us.
His lips drop down to my collarbone, and a moan escapes me. He pulls back, looking deeply into my eyes in a way that’s always been hard to turn away from and to take. Like he’s looking into my heart and can see everything I hide from everyone.
“I want to ask you properly when your life isn’t in danger,” he says.
“You haven’t asked me anything yet.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“I think you’re supposed to say that part at the altar.”
“I can say it again then, too.”
“Eleanor.”
“Yes?”
He smiles. “I see what you did there.”
“You don’t have to ask now. Here.”
“I’m not.”
My voice catches in my throat. “Oh, okay.”
“How can I? With everything that’s happening?”
“I know.”
“I want it to be memorable.”
I gesture to the plain office. “More memorable than this?”
“Ha.”
I step away from him. The last thing I want to do. But the first thing isn’t something we should be doing in broad daylight in Guy’s office.
Though the possibility of getting caught in flagrante delicto is hot.
To me, anyway.
“We should get back to our search,” I say. “We don’t have that much time before people are going to start asking where we are.”
“Right. The schedule. Lunch, then activities.”
“No way I’m doing any of those activities after yesterday.”
He smiles. “That seems wise.” He kisses me briefly, then goes back to his books. I watch him for a minute, then turn reluctantly back to the filing cabinet.
Am I engaged now?
I mean, maybe?
There’s no ring, and he didn’t ask me, but he was going to ask me last night, so he must have the ring here. Something to search for later.
But for now, it’s back to these files.
It’s all information about past guests. A missing locket.
A concern about a break-in. A near-drowning.
All the things you’d expect in a resort over the years.
I stop on a file named “Death” and pull it out.
It’s got a police report in it from the man who died here earlier this year.
As Officer Rolle said, he died in his sleep.
Nothing suspicious about it. I close the file and put it back.
I try to reach for the next file, but it’s stuck on something.
I pull at it, and I realize a file has slipped down underneath the others.
I push the files aside in both directions and fish it out.
It’s a personnel file for a man named Karl Johnson.
61 I open it. It belongs to the former head of security.
“Found something,” I say, holding it up.
“Me too,” Oliver says. He holds a book out to me that has a hollow cavity in it. Inside, there’s a USB stick.
“Excellent.”
He glances at his watch. “We should go. We’ve been here too long.”
“What do I do with this? I can’t just walk around with it.”
“Leave the file, give me the papers.”
I do as he instructs. He folds them in two and puts them inside his blazer.
“That thing is handy.”
“We’re totally nuts,” he says.
“No shit,” I say. “Let’s go.”
I turn off the light and we go outside. Oliver drops to his knees again and relocks the door while I keep a lookout. Then he stands and grabs my hand. We both still have our gloves on, and I’m about to suggest we take them off when a voice stops us.
“And just what have you two been up to?”
Busted.