14. Chapter 14
fourteen
Barcelona, Spain—Two days later
L ina walked behind a group of tourists along La Rambla . Even in the middle of January, pedestrians strolled the popular street. It wasn’t as packed as it would be in the middle of the summer, but savvy tourists who knew how to save on costs and avoid crowds took advantage of the cooler temperatures.
This was perfect from Lina’s perspective. The city center Plaza de Cataluna was busy enough that people were always around. It was easy for her and Curtis to blend as a couple of backpackers, just traveling through. But it wasn’t so packed that she wouldn’t catch someone out of place.
She and Curtis had chosen the earliest train out of Paris, which had led them here. During the six-hour-or-so train ride, she’d gotten them an apartment two streets over from the plaza. Her cover ID and special corporate card couldn’t be connected to Curtis at all.
He was waiting for her back at the apartment. She made a left turn to Calle de Pelai toward their building. She’d taken the roundabout way to her destination rather than the more direct route which would've taken her only three minutes by foot. Even if she was sure no one but her people knew where they were, she stayed vigilant.
She checked the street for anything suspicious before she crossed the road and went into the building on the corner. Choosing to take the stairs to the fourth floor allowed her to keep an eye out for anything odd on the other floors.
Everything ’ s quiet .
Lina unlocked the door and entered the apartment. It was a modern one-bedroom with clean lines and not a lot of personality, but they only needed a comfortable place to hunker down. There was only one bed, but they’d made it work so far.
Curtis had refused to take the bed. As their first line of defense, she’d explained she needed to be in the outer room. But the stubborn guy wouldn’t let her sleep on the couch, though she’d told him she was used to worse accommodations.
Lina found him sitting by the door that opened to the narrow balcony. Chilly air filled the room, but she didn’t mind it. The lazy, almost melancholy melody he was playing on his guitar stopped her midway to him and she just stood there, watching him.
He hadn’t left the apartment since they’d arrived yesterday afternoon. For obvious reason, she’d contained him there while she went out to buy food. They’d spent the time playing cards, talking, and watching movies, but she felt he’d become more withdrawn since they’d left Paris.
The high-spirited man she knew wasn’t here at all. And though she’d told him he needed to stop flirting, she’d expected him to ignore that admonition altogether. But he’d in fact dropped the teasing, the innuendo, the heated looks, or even the most innocent touches. And damn it if she didn’t miss them.
He ’ s not happy .
It was silly to think that. He was running from people who wanted to hurt him. And he was cut off from his family and friends, and stuck with her without a light at the end of the tunnel in sight. Of course he wasn’t happy.
“I got dinner,” Lina announced, putting the paper bag on the small dining table.
Curtis merely glanced her way—not even directly at her. “Thanks.”
“Got a text from Paul. Your family is doing fine in Provence. All’s calm except for the occasional tension between Callie and your mom,” she updated.
He snorted. “To be expected.”
“They’re not very close, are they?” Lina coaxed him to elaborate.
Curtis changed his guitar playing from picking to strumming. “They didn’t talk much for a decade.”
A decade? What would put such strain on a parent-child relationship?
Who was she kidding? She didn’t talk to her parents much at all. She had her reasons, but it wasn’t because she didn’t want to.
Not wanting to dwell on her own issues, she prodded into the Bisset family business instead. “But they seemed on better terms now?”
He grimaced and bobbed his head side to side slightly. “A little better. Mom was a control freak, still is. She’s lightened up a lot since semi-retirement.”
Then he smirked. “And from what we witnessed, probably getting more romance from Dad helped.”
Her first encounter with the elder Bissets popped into her head, and she chuckled. “Good for them.”
“Yeah,” he said flatly. He then swung the guitar, placed it gently into its case, and stood. After closing the balcony doors, he turned and looked at the food bag with no excitement.
“Thanks for getting dinner. I’m not hungry right now. I think I’ll shower,” he said.
Lina watched this Curtis she didn’t recognize walk to the bathroom and her heart squeezed inside her chest. She knew being cooped up wasn’t fun, and after over forty-eight hours, claustrophobia probably edged in. He hadn’t complained one bit, and she should be glad. But honestly, she missed the unpredictable Curtis.
Making up her mind, she grabbed the bag of burgers she’d gotten and threw it into the open trash bin nearby. Curtis turned to her with a frown.
“Fuck it. Let’s go out,” Lina said. “I’ve scouted the area, and I’ve seen nothing to make me believe they didn’t take our bait and headed to Norway.”
“Have you heard about the two guys in Paris?” he asked.
“We spotted them in Schiphol last,” she answered. Amsterdam was way far from Barcelona.
“But that doesn’t mean they aren’t after me anymore.”
“No. But it means they’re nowhere near us.” She went to him. “If we can de-rock star you a bit, I think we can go have a quiet dinner. I know being stuck in this apartment is hard for you.”
“It’s fine. It’s the inaction that’s getting to me. Too much time to get lost in my head. And too much…” He flexed his arms with a frustrated grunt. “I need to get this anxiousness out somehow. But I can’t run, punch a bag, or anything.”
“Well, maybe a long walk to dinner will help?” she suggested.
A smile started forming on the corner of his lips. “For real?”
Lina nodded. She was breaking protocol, and she sure hoped she wasn’t making a mistake.
“This is nice,” Curtis sighed with contentment, then smiled at Lina sitting next to him. “Thanks for this.”
They were sitting in a quiet, dimly lit restaurant, waiting for their paella to arrive. He didn’t care if it seemed cliché, but he hardly ever played tourist when he was in Spain on tour. And he knew they couldn’t do this often, so he’d enjoy the respite Lina gifted him. He’d drink his beer and eat good food.
He pushed the dark-rimmed fake glasses Lina had given him up his nose. She’d also tamed and slicked his hair somewhat. When he’d looked at himself in the mirror, he’d thought he looked like a bookish nerd. He’d fit in at any library or bookstore, he mused.
“Glasses look good on you,” Lina said.
“You like the nerdy type?” he glanced at her.
“It’s not the outside that matters.” She drank her fizzy water.
“What does? To you.” If she didn’t like the straightforward musician, then he was curious to know what got under her skin.
“Character. Heart. Principles.”
“Elaborate, please.”
Lina laughed lightly. “I’m not discussing this with you.”
“I thought we’re supposed to play a couple on vacation. I need to be the man you deem worthy of sharing your night with.”
“You don’t have to pretend to be anyone but yourself.”
His brows shot up at that answer.
Does she mean what I think she means?
Curtis knew he was probably trying too hard to read between the lines. He’d been very good at restraining himself from looking at Lina as more than the person who was keeping him alive. For his family and his own sake, he could keep it in his pants. He could stop needing to make her laugh or wanting to kiss those lips again.
He’d tried his best to keep distance between them, though it proved difficult as they shared small quarters, knowing she was sleeping just a few feet away. It was damn hard now to keep his promise to not flirt or steal a touch when they were bathed in the intimate glow of candles and soft music.
Lina leaned toward him, put her elbow on the table and her hand by the side of her face. She whispered, “Come closer.”
Excited by her request, Curtis mirrored her movement. With his face only two inches away from hers, he asked, “Yes?”
She closed the distance and made him suck his breath in anticipation. His eyes closed as he breathed in her no-nonsense fresh scent. There was no overwhelming perfume, just a clean smell of soap, skin, and the wintry night.
But the kiss he’d hoped for didn’t come. Instead, he felt her cheek brush his, and her lips whispered into his ear, “Laugh. Pretend I’m whispering something funny.”
Curtis’ eyes blinked open with disappointment, but he did as instructed and chuckled. He brought his hand up to her nape and let her silky hair fall between his fingers, keeping her close.
A shiver ran through her skin at his touch, and he could hear her barely audible sharp intake of breath. It injected hope back into him.
With a smile, he said in her ear, “What’s going on?”
“A lurker, eyeing us,” she replied, then said something in a Chinese dialect, a little louder, followed by a laugh. He wasn’t sure if it was Mandarin. Then she pulled back slightly, a smile still on her mouth, but her eyes were watchful over his left shoulder.
“They turned away. They might’ve recognized you,” she said, her eyes on his face. “Even with the glasses and a different hairstyle, you’re still you.”
Curtis’s lips curved. “Who am I?”
She blinked as if she didn’t expect to explain herself. “Um…a famous rock star. Though you don’t quite fit the stereotypical rock star look, you still carry yourself a certain way only a rock star can.”
His brows rose in question at that statement. “What’s a rock star supposed to look like?”
“I don’t know. Maybe more like Brandon, with the tattoos and messy hair,” she continued. “You’re pretty clean-cut for a musician. No tattoos that I’ve seen.”
This time, he laughed. “You should’ve seen us when we were younger. I had Brandon draw on my skin. But when we were old enough to get actual tattoos, he got his first one—the one on his right biceps. I chickened out.” He shuddered. “Those needles.”
“Not a lot of men would admit they’re afraid of needles,” she pointed out.
“Not all needles. But being pierced endlessly by a needle, yeah, no thanks.”
Lina checked behind him once again before she relaxed and sat back. “They left. They probably think we’re just a couple of Chinese tourists.”
“What did you say earlier?” he asked. “That wasn’t Mandarin, was it?”
Lina eyed him curiously. “No, it was Cantonese. I just said whatever, nothing important. My parents speak primarily that dialect at home.”
“But you speak Mandarin, too. I saw you talking to Popo.”
“My circle back home spoke both, so I picked up Mandarin pretty easily growing up,” she answered. “Why didn’t you learn the language? I see your grandma and mom speak it.”
Curtis scoffed. “My mother only spoke in English to us. But my grandparents shared their culture, cuisine, and language whenever they visited or spoke to us. Unfortunately, they didn’t live close enough to us, so we kinda lost some of our connections to that side of our heritage—the language, especially.
“I never thought about it, really,” he added. “Until the other night, when Dad said his parents disliked Mom for being a Chinese immigrant. Her obsessiveness to instill in us we are Americans now kinda made sense.”
Lina tilted her head. “That must be hard—to be told you weren’t right for the person you loved just because you were different. Did your father’s parents ever come around in their marriage?”
“Probably not.” Curtis thought back. “We rarely saw them.”
“Sorry to hear that.” She lightly squeezed his arm. “It must’ve been hard for you and Callie, too, not to have a relationship with that side of your family.”
“I never really thought about it.” Curtis shrugged. “Your family’s close?”
“We are.” She smiled. “But every family has their issues.”
“What’s yours?” Curtis prodded.
Lina chuckled, shaking her head.
“Oh, c’mon. We’re spending a lot of time together. We have no idea when you’ll be free of me. I can’t be the only one talking,” Curtis said. “You know more about me than I do about you.”
“It’s a necessity.”
“Getting to know the person whose hands you put your life into is more than necessary, don’t you think?” He put a hand on top of hers.
Her brown eyes met his. He could see her brain was weighing her answer, but he knew she would give him something. She might tell him they had to stay professional, but he was starting to realize that the formidable Lina Cheung had a weakness.
And that weakness was him.