Chapter Sixteen
Blaize didn’t need the naked image of Carys in the shower with beads of water rolling down her silky skin stamped in his thoughts. It had been a long day. They needed rest. That was probably the reason his emotions took the wheel, defied logic, and refused to stop thinking about her.
The best way to stop thinking about someone was with a good workout. His muscles were stiff from all the sitting on the drive to Austin. Then there’d been driving around Austin. They’d walked a little and run a bit—not nearly enough movement to fulfill his body’s needs.
The water cut off. He shouldered his backpack.
When the bathroom door opened and Carys walked out, he realized how unprepared he was to see her in pajama shorts and a soft cotton T-shirt. The thin material hinted at revealing her full breasts.
Blood flew south as he stood up, walked past, and then exhaled when he closed the bathroom door behind him. A workout could wait. A shower could ease some of the muscle tension. It wasn’t taking all his considerable willpower to force his body not to act on its own accord.
Would she welcome his touch? His kiss?
Rather than fall down that rabbit hole, he took a cold shower and threw on a pair of pajama pants. Normally, he wore boxers to bed. He’d packed the lounge pants for her sake.
Blaize cut off the light as he opened the door and realized he was in complete darkness. It was fine. He’d memorized the layout and could navigate getting to bed all right without tripping over anything as long as he kept one hand on the wall.
His phone sat on the desk. He made his way over without bumping a shin—a miracle. Carys’s soft, steady breathing said she was already asleep. She probably conked out the second her head hit the pillow.
After dimming his screen, he slipped underneath the covers. The temptation to pull her into his arms was a physical ache.
He closed his eyes and refocused. Tires. Those were the least sexy things he could think about. He needed to get new tires on his Jeep in the near future.
As though sensing his mental battle, Carys rolled over and settled into the crook of his arm. She slung her leg over his. He was thankful for the thin layers of material preventing skin from touching bare skin. That would be his undoing.
Eventually, he drifted off.
THE SUN PEEKED through the small slit in the curtains Blaize had kept open. Blackout curtains threw him off too much. He didn’t know when to open his eyes if they were closed all the way. It was disorienting. He needed the sun as much as he needed the expansive Texas sky.
Carys’s warm limbs entwined with his. Her hair splayed across the pillow. She smelled like a field of wildflowers.
Caffeine. Blaize needed to untangle himself or risk waking her, and he sure as hell couldn’t stay there while his fingers burned to touch every curve of that beautiful body.
With effort, he managed to slide away and out from underneath the covers. A glance at his phone said it was half past nine in the morning. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept this late no matter what time he went to bed.
The sun was bright. He moved quietly through the room, made coffee, and washed up.
After a cup, he could figure out what to do about food.
There was probably a power bar in his backpack tucked in the front pocket.
He usually kept that or a small bag of trail mix for easy access to keep from starving.
After sitting down to nurse his coffee, he checked the address again.
He looked it up using the map feature on his phone.
The house was listed on a popular real estate site five years ago.
The pictures were still up. The two-bedroom light yellow house had a one-vehicle carport and black metal bars on the windows.
Electric cables ran on the street out front.
The yard was small, not giving much separation from the busy street.
A small tree blocked much of the house from view.
Inside, the front door led straight into the living room. The kitchen was eat-in. Both bedrooms were in the back of the house. The place was surrounded by low trees that could offer some coverage as they approached.
If the occupants had a dog, they would be busted walking up. Could he and Carys come up with a reason for being there? Knock on the front door? Put on some type of maintenance jumper?
Where would they get one? It wasn’t like they sold uniforms at the local big-box store.
Then again, he wouldn’t know. It wasn’t like he spent a lot of time in those places. He got in and out as fast as possible on the occasion he needed to go inside one.
Back to the phone screen, he studied the layout of the home.
He “walked” the neighborhood as best as he could to get the lay of the land.
Once on the ground, they needed to appear they knew what they were doing or risk drawing attention.
Could they walk down the street holding hands?
Pretend to be a couple like they had last night?
The move was starting to feel a little too natural with Carys, like they had a rhythm and had been together in another lifetime. Or something like that.
Hell, he didn’t normally go full-on romantic. She had a way of bringing out a different side to him. Or maybe he was just trying to rationalize an attraction that was never meant to be understood.
It had been so long since he’d been on a date, would he even know what one looked like now? Not to mention the fact Carys was almost ten years younger than him. Were they too far apart in age? Did they want different things at this point in their lives?
Funny. He didn’t want anything except to save the ranch and keep Kit where she belonged. Forty-eight hours made a helluva difference in life. With Lynn, he was reminded that life could change on a dime. With Carys, he saw that as a good thing.
“What time is it?” Carys asked, sitting up and gently rubbing her eyes.
He glanced at the clock. “Ten fifteen.”
“I overslept,” she said, pushing the covers off and throwing long legs over the side. He couldn’t help but remember how good it felt when she’d entwined them with his.
“No, it’s fine.”
“Are you sure? You must be starving by now,” she said as she stretched. He forced his gaze away from the way the cotton pressed against her breasts.
“I’m good. I haven’t been awake for very long. This is my first cup of coffee, and I’m about to make my second. Would you like one, or do you need food first?”
“What do you think about ordering room service?”
“We might be too late for breakfast.”
“A hamburger and fries sound amazing to me right now,” she said, a sleepy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Damned if the knot didn’t tighten in his chest.
He picked up the menu. “Consider it done.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Let me spoil you for a change,” he said, and he meant every word. “I like doing things for you that make your life easier.”
Was it a mistake to admit that to her?
CARYS SMILED ON her way to the bathroom. “I’m not going to tell you no.”
As she brushed her teeth, she heard Blaize on the phone ordering from the lunch menu.
Her systems were turned upside down. Her body didn’t know day from night at this point.
It wanted protein. Besides, she didn’t know when she’d get a chance to eat again.
Her schedule was all over the place until this case resolved.
Speaking of days of the week, she thought for a moment and realized it was already Sunday. How could she go into the office on Monday if she still had Rue in her custody? That’s tomorrow-Carys’s problem. Besides, she had plenty to focus on today.
Practically, they could investigate the house and get back to the ranch by dinner. They had a new name to work with—Sharon Clark.
She thought about the name Stephanie Cross…a potential fake name. Were you hiding from this Angel person? What was he to you? An ex-boyfriend?
Thomas didn’t explain what he meant about not liking how his uncle treated her. And now they knew she used to work at the bar. This was like being expected to put together a five-hundred-piece puzzle with a couple of pieces and none of the rest.
These things take time.
Did she have any?
Carys dressed in yoga pants, a sports bra, and a tank top.
She pulled her hair off her face into a ponytail.
Push come to shove, she could pass for someone being out on a jog.
Being a college town, Austin was a lively place, especially the downtown area.
Joggers could be seen throughout the day, seven days a week. She should fit right in.
A knock on the door told her she’d been in the bathroom way longer than expected or that room service in this hotel was speedy.
She waited until Blaize answered, then came out of the bathroom once the server was gone since the doors would clash otherwise.
“Food’s here,” Blaize said in that oh-so-sexy deep timbre of his. That man could read the contents of a cereal box and make women want to start peeling off their clothes.
She laughed.
“What’s that about?” He studied her, perplexed.
No way was she sharing that little tidbit.
“Nothing,” she said. “This food smells amazing.”
“You’re probably starving, which helps.” He finished setting up the makeshift table and chairs. He directed her to sit in the office-like chair while he took the bed.
She picked up the metal lid and was hit with a waft of awesomeness. “Yes to all of this.”
He chuckled. “Do you always go full force at life?”
She had a bite of food in her mouth that she almost spit out from laughing.
Once she chewed and swallowed, she said, “Since I moved out. I was kept locked up basically my entire childhood. Once I adjusted to college life, I decided to just run at life full-steam-ahead style. I own my mistakes and do my best to learn from them.”
“It’s a good philosophy,” he said.
“I’m so much happier now. Even when I screw up, and believe me, I have royally done so. Knowing my missteps are my own has its own healing energy attached. Being under someone’s thumb is the worst kind of existence.”
“I can partially relate. It’s no life.”
“That’s why I feel so sorry for Stephanie or Sharon, whatever her name is.
” She took a sip of the coffee he’d fixed for her.
“This happened to me when I was young. Plus, it was my father. He may have broken our relationship, but he does love me. Or did. I haven’t talked to him in too long to know where he stands now.
It was misguided love—don’t get me wrong.
It was action born out of loss and sadness and fear.
But I never once doubted that he loved me. ”
Blaize listened. Truly listened. He didn’t try to fix things, like guys she’d dated. And because of that, she felt seen.
“Would you ever want to reach out to see if anything has changed between the two of you?” he asked. “No pressure. I’m just curious.”
“I’ve thought about it. A lot of time has passed. More than six years.” She took a bite of hamburger and chewed. “I’m not ready yet to handle the disappointment if he didn’t change. The last thing I want is to reopen an old wound just to throw salt in it. You know? Does that make sense?”
“Sure, it does. You would want to have a relationship if he has changed and grown over the years, but sometimes not knowing is better than suffering more disappointment.”
“That’s it exactly. What if he remarried and has another family? What if he rejects me and doesn’t have a new family? What if he just doesn’t care what happens to me?”
Blaize nodded.
They settled into eating and polishing off his second and her first cup of coffee.
“What will your work do when they find out you didn’t take Rue to the orphanage?” he asked as he stacked plates on the rollaway tray.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“What happens between now and Monday morning.”
“Then let’s make sure you don’t lose your job over helping an innocent baby,” he said with the kind of finality that made her believe him. “I’ll just be a minute while I get dressed.”
“I’ll scoot the cart into the hallway now that we’re finished.”
He reached for her hand, stopped her from moving the cart. “Might be safer to leave it inside while we get ready. The less we open and close doors, the better.”
“Do you think someone followed us?”
“I’d rather not find out the hard way. I didn’t tell Thomas my name, and I paid with cash at the first bar on purpose. Still. Taking a chance doesn’t seem like the right play here.”
He was right. Of course he was. For a moment, she felt imprisoned again.
Beyond her father’s tight grip, she’d endured everything from being locked in closets by babysitters to being threatened within an inch of her life if she “ratted” out the ones having sex on her father’s bed or drinking to the point of passing out while he had to be away on business.
From a young age, Carys understood the fact that her father’s job kept food on the table.
He worked long hours balancing the finances so he could pay his workers while keeping a roof over her head.
She caught glimpses of him looking run down—and an emotion that looked a whole lot like guilt—but he always put up a strong front when she was in the room.
Telling him about the babysitters would have only added to his stress.
Besides, she’d learned to keep emergency supplies in the form of a flashlight, book, and a chocolate bar in a couple of the closets just to be safe and stave off boredom.
As much as she shouldn’t care about anyone else rubber-stamping her life decisions, her relationship with her father was tricky. The urge to make him proud constantly warred with her need to prove her independence, causing a ton of friction in her high school years.
Families and relationships were complicated. No one knew that better than Blaize.
Shake it off.
Mentally, she had to readjust. This was not the past. She was free to go wherever she wanted to go and do whatever she wanted to do. Her father still lived near Austin as far as she knew.
Carys, of all people, knew what it was like to be trapped by someone hell-bent on controlling her and being surrounded by people who carried out that person’s bidding.
Is this how you felt, Sharon?