Chapter Nine
A set of French doors were swung wide, leading to a balcony.
A tropical breeze whipped through the room.
Atticus could see Foster sitting outside.
His hair blew wildly in the wind. Atticus slipped from the bed and made his way to the bathroom.
After days of Foster babying him and nights of solid sleep, Atticus felt mostly human again.
He used the restroom and brushed his teeth before padding his way out onto the balcony.
Foster jumped a hair when Atticus bent over his shoulder and wrapped him in a hug. He settled immediately and rubbed Atticus’ arms.
Atticus kissed his ear. “Are you contemplating jumping?” He couldn’t stop the humor tinging his voice. If Atticus had ever been this relaxed and happy, he couldn’t recall it.
Foster flashed him a sweet smile as Atticus claimed the chair beside him. “No. What I’m considering might be worse.”
Foster sounded serious.
Atticus chuckled. It was a nervous sound. “I know there’re a lot worse things than death, but has this week with me been that bad?” Atticus tried like hell to keep his tone playful.
Foster rolled his eyes and took Atticus’ hand. Atticus wasn’t used to this brand of affection, but he didn’t want Foster to let go. Foster went back to staring at the gorgeous view around them. For a moment, they sat in companionable silence.
Foster lifted their joined hands and kissed Atticus’ knuckles. “I’m kind of thinking I’d like to stay.”
Fuck. Maybe Atticus would be the one who jumped. “I see.” He really didn’t. “What’s brought this on? I mean, I always end up searching for homes and contemplating moving every time I travel before going home. This sounds a lot more serious than that.”
Foster shook his head but kept his gaze locked on the horizon. Finally, Foster looked his way. “I love it here, and Crisp is here. This isn’t a new thought for me.”
“I see.” Atticus had no fucking clue why he kept saying that.
He didn’t see a damn thing… or maybe he did.
Atticus saw they had no future. That hurt, and his reaction was dumb.
Realistically, they were nothing. Fucking didn’t mean shit.
Anyone could do that. The silence played heavily on his ears.
The quiet realization of how big he had let his fantasy of Foster grow sat on his chest, suffocating him.
He quietly withdrew his heart and got back in his place.
“I’ll probably leave soon. There’s a whole company in California waiting for me.” A company that didn’t need him for shit.
Foster looked his way again. His eyes seemed serene, as if he truly was at peace here. “Isn’t there a possibility that your bodyguard receptionist tried to kill you?”
Atticus shrugged. He couldn’t hold Foster’s stare. “That’s a long line. Seth might as well join the queue of people who want me dead.” God knew Seth probably had a lot more reasons than anyone else. Atticus wasn’t an easy person to deal with.
“What if you didn’t?”
The question snapped Atticus out of his growing black thoughts. “Didn’t what? Have a line of potential murderers at my door?”
Foster smiled as if he found Atticus hilarious. “No. What if you didn’t go back?”
Something glitched inside Atticus. “Whoa. What are you saying here? We’ve spent one week together. You can’t just jump to the front of people who want me dead. You’d hate me before the end of the month.”
Foster’s lips quirked in one corner. “You know better than that, but I get it. I’m not trying to freak you out and send you running.
Here, it’s a more controlled environment.
You can run your business from here remotely, and I could keep you safe.
Just consider it and get back to me, okay? I didn’t ask you to marry me.”
Confusingly, that last bit stung. That scared him more than anything.
Foster stared at him, waiting him out while Atticus floundered. Atticus had to pull it together. “Um. Yeah. I mean, I’ll think about it.”
Foster gave him a sharp nod. “Take your time.” He went back to staring at the horizon while kissing Atticus’ hand.
Atticus sat in shocked silence, incapable of looking away from Foster’s profile. What had just happened?
Foster turned his head.
Atticus tried rearranging his features into a less shocked expression.
If Foster noticed anything, he didn’t call Atticus on it. “You look like you’re feeling better today.”
“I suppose I’ll live.”
“Does that mean you’re up to seeing what Tracker found?”
Atticus had no idea, but if it let them move on from a possible move to Hawaii, he was in. “Sure.”
Foster kissed his hand again and then stood. “I’ll be right back.”
Atticus nodded. He switched his gaze to their gorgeous surroundings so he wouldn’t watch Foster walk away. The guy was way too sexy, and Atticus was a mess. He knew a volatile situation when he saw one.
Foster was back in less than a minute, carrying an iPad.
He reclaimed his seat. “Tracker hacked the city camera system from the coffeehouse to your office building. He said it was worth a shot to see if he could pinpoint the moment your coffee was spiked. While he didn’t exactly hit pay dirt, there was an odd moment.
” Foster leaned Atticus' way with the tablet.
He clicked a few options, and the street outside the coffeehouse appeared on the screen.
Seth stepped out, carrying a coffee cup.
Foster followed his image away from the door with his finger.
“He makes it approximately ten steps and then…”
The door of the cafe opened again, and a woman came running out. Seth turned as if she had called out. They meet halfway. Seth held up the cup he was carrying and turned it, obviously searching for the name written on the cup. They laughed and exchanged drinks.
Foster stopped the feed. “Tracker thinks it’s more likely this woman is responsible than Seth.
I mean, it could still be him. But after researching every angle of Seth’s life, Tracker doesn’t seem to think he’d be the type to fold to death threats, and there’s no benefit to him if you died.
No one else would pay him as much as you, and any bribes would definitely trigger the IRS with the state of his bank account. ”
Atticus stared at the face on the screen. “It’s more than just likely that it’s her. I’m positive she’s the culprit. That’s my cousin, Gray. She’d fold to death threats and bribery. Hell, she might kill me for free. She has an evil streak.”
Foster leaned back. “Huh. Well. I guess that solves that.”
Atticus worked up a fake smile. “Yep. No need for your protection. It’s just my family, as always.” A fresh wave of weariness overcame him.
Foster stood and set the iPad on his chair. He held his hand out to Atticus. “Come on, sexy. We need to get out of this room.”
Atticus let himself get dragged to his feet. He had no idea what Foster had planned. Anything was better than hanging out inside his head.
When Foster left the house with Atticus in tow, he hadn’t had a plan.
All he knew was he hated the look in Atticus’ eyes when he realized—yet again—his family tried to kill him.
Foster had seen that video before Atticus.
While he hadn’t known the woman was Atticus’ cousin, he had known Atticus couldn’t return to California.
Physically, Atticus possessed all the skills to survive a direct attack.
His family had found a whole new avenue of sly attempts.
That made Foster’s blood run cold. Atticus couldn’t fight what he couldn’t see, and he shouldn’t fucking have to.
The entire mess pissed him off and kept him stuck in protective mode.
The constant looking over his shoulder had to be killing Atticus with the stress alone.
No one could reach Atticus here. Not only that, but no one would even know where he was.
That had been Foster’s only thought as he had asked Atticus to stay.
But then the words were out there, and Foster couldn’t think about anything else.
If Atticus said no, Foster had a sinking feeling in his gut that he wouldn’t handle the denial well.
Rather than stew over his crazy emotions, Foster dragged Atticus all over town like showing the man his new hometown.
“Have you been here before?”
At Foster’s question, Atticus set his wine aside and looked in every direction, openly studying the restaurant. “This restaurant?” He sounded confused.
Foster smiled as he realized how vague he had been—like he thought Atticus could read his mind. “Hawaii. I’ve been showing you the island all day. It didn’t occur to me until just now that you’ve likely been here before.”
“Not Maui, no. I went to Kona about seven or eight years ago.” He picked up his wine again and took a sip before continuing. “It was super touristy.” He shrugged. “But I was a tourist, so it’s whatever. I just never found the time to visit again.”
Foster shook his head. “I don’t understand why someone who’s worth as much money as you are doesn’t slow down and enjoy life.”
Atticus cocked his head to one side and eyed Foster like a science project he didn’t understand. “Enjoy what life?”
Foster pulled a face. “What do you mean, what life? Yours.”
Atticus’ even tone never wavered. “Tell me about this life I have to enjoy. I’m not trying to be a dick. I’m genuinely curious about what you saw while following me for nearly two months.”
Since there was no anger or sarcasm in Atticus’ tone, Foster took the question seriously.
“I saw someone who never took a single second to breathe. Someone who needed to fill literally every second of the day with anything and everything but never nothing. I saw someone who’s every bit as unhappy as I am but never sat with that emotion. ” Foster shrugged. “I saw you.”
Atticus fiddled with the stem of his wineglass, proving Foster right about his inability to sit still. His expression hid his thoughts. “At any time during those observations, did you stop to ask yourself why?”