Chapter 11
Boone
As soon as I hear the lock engage behind me, I step off the porch and make a beeline to my car.
If I didn’t get out of there when I did, I’m not sure I would have left at all.
I was tempted to fall asleep on the couch or do a very good job of pretending to anyway to see if she would let me stay, but that was before she got up to get a drink, and I followed her like a lost duck.
There have been plenty of times when I didn’t want a night to end, but this was different. It wasn’t just the night I didn’t want to end. I could see myself spending days with Harlyn—countless dinners, sappy shit like going to the fair or walking by the water and holding her hand.
I glance in the rearview mirror as the gated entrance to her community falls back into place behind me.
The face of the security guard is in the window, watching me leave.
“Get used to it, buddy. I’ll be back,” I mutter to myself before punching the gas to head back to my empty hotel room where I know sleep won’t come easily for several reasons.
Harlyn
I lock the door as promised then move through the rest of the house, making sure all the other doors and windows are still locked in a ritual I’m not sure I will ever be able to let go. When I pass through the living room, I turn off the television. I don’t have any interest in finishing the movie.
Before heading upstairs for the night, I freshen up my ice water. It’s when I’m taking one final look around the room that I notice the manila folder still on the stool. I falter for about two seconds before I walk toward the paper file.
Picking it up makes me realize how little it weighs, considering all the information it could have inside. There’s no way Boone is going to forget about the file, but I could pretend I did. Guilt gnaws at me for the planned deception, but it doesn’t stop me from flipping the cover open.
The report in front is brief and doesn’t have any details I didn’t already know.
It’s almost a relief. Before I flip the paper to the side, revealing the contents beneath, I hesitate.
Is this really what I want to do right before trying to sleep?
My current reality is already enough to keep me awake.
The image of Boone sitting at the table earlier this evening, thumbing through the file, passes through my thoughts.
Mind made up, I place the folder on the table then turn off one of the lamps on my way to the stairs.
Phone in hand, I send a text to Boone before it gets too late and I risk waking him up.
Me: Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know you left the file here.
My phone rings before I even make it up to the third floor. There’s a smile on my lips when I bring it up to my ear after answering. “Hello?”
“Shit, Harlyn, I’m turning around.”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t want to keep you up any later than I already have. Besides, I left it downstairs.”
“Downstairs? Are you heading to bed?” Did his voice change when he asked that question, or is my mind playing tricks on me?
“To the bedroom, yes, to actually sleep… That’s a whole other story.” There was definitely a teasing tone in my voice.
Boone lets out a long breath that could be called a weighted sigh before saying, “I’m sorry.”
“It isn’t your fault,” I tell him while heading into the bathroom to turn the light on. The glow from the single lamp I left on below doesn’t really reach this floor, and I’m not ready to sleep in the dark just yet.
“I could have waited until tomorrow to talk to you about this.” Having his deep voice in my ear is almost as good as having him with me. I don’t feel the same sense of dread about getting ready for bed that I usually do.
“It wouldn’t have mattered. I told you sleep hasn’t been easy for a while, and besides, I’m glad you came over. I very much enjoyed your company.” Heat warms my cheeks as I admit the truth I doubt I would be able to confess if he were actually in front of me.
There’s a slight pause before he responds, giving me time to second-guess my admission. “Me too. I was trying to talk myself out of texting you to see if you were free for breakfast.” His voice is laced with an edge of humor.
“Yes,” I answer, smiling even wider as I sit on the bed, bringing my feet up to tuck my toes under the covers. I’m in no rush to get off the phone to wash my face and brush my teeth.
“Yes to breakfast?” he questions, and I hear what I think is his turn signal ticking in the background again. It’s kind of dumb, but there’s a part of me that wishes I would have let him come back, even if it was just under the guise of getting the folder.
“Or brunch.” I shrug, enjoying the almost giddy feeling in my chest. It’s been a very long time since I’ve allowed myself to feel so… light.
“Late sleeper?”
“Not really, especially here with all the uncovered windows. I was just saying I’m pretty much always free.”
“Uncovered windows?” he questions.
I look around, focusing on the dark horizon over the water and the moon far above it. “The third floor is a loft. There are no curtains or anything, but you can’t beat the view.”
“I bet,” he mutters rather softly.
“I was a little freaked out to sleep up here at first.” The confession comes easily. “But I love the space, and I didn’t want to let something else be taken from me.” Boone doesn’t respond quick enough, and I blurt out, “Sorry, I’m making this weird. I just wanted you to know you left the folder.”
“You aren’t making anything weird,” he replies.
“I just hate that you feel that way and there’s nothing I can do or say to make it any different.
I can’t lie and tell you there’s nothing to be afraid of, because we both know that’s not true, and…
and yeah. It sucks,” he finishes, leaving me thinking there was something else he was going to add and didn’t.
“It does suck. I was really hoping that I could, I don’t know, find the girl I used to be by coming here. It sounds so dumb when I say it out loud.”
“It isn’t dumb, it’s pretty normal,” Boone tells me, and I hear the turn signal clicking again through the now quiet phone line.
“Are you almost back to your hotel?” I take the time to change the subject since I was the one who steered us into deeper waters.
“Yeah, just pulled into the lot.” He sighs.
“I’m glad I caught you before you got settled. I won’t keep you.”
“Already trying to get rid of me, huh?” The background sound changes, as if I’ve been taken off speakerphone.
“No, I just don’t want to bother you.”
“I’m the one who called you, remember?” Something about the way he sounds makes me think he’s grinning.
“After I texted you.”
“Yeah, well, I needed to talk to you so I could hear your voice when I made you promise not to look at the file tonight.”
“I already decided not to look at it when I called, but I did think about it,” I admit. “I’m not sure what’s going to keep me up longer, knowing it’s down there and I could look through it at any time, or reading it and possibly spiraling all night.”
“What’s your favorite movie?” His question catches me off guard and forces me to think about something else.
“Uh… Fried Green Tomatoes?”
“You don’t sound so sure, but I don’t think I know that one. Night.” He says the last word a little louder, making me certain he isn’t speaking to me.
“I’m not surprised you don’t know it. It’s an older movie my grandma loved and the first thing I thought of. I haven’t really watched a lot of stuff I could say I liked in a while. How about you?”
“Well…” He pauses. “I don’t watch that much television either.
I don’t think I’ve been to the movies in…
Damn. Want to go see a movie with me tomorrow?
” There’s a soft chime in the background, and I imagine him standing in a simple elevator, one broad shoulder leaning against the interior wall while he waits for the doors to open on his floor.
“Do I get to pick the film?” I question, knowing what my answer will be either way.
“That depends.”
“On what?” I don’t think my smile could get any wider. My face actually feels the strain of long unused muscles flexing.
“On what you pick.” He says it like that should be obvious.
“Let me guess, no chick flicks.” I snicker.
“Chick flicks are fine,” he answers, and I’m pretty sure I now know what kind of movies he wants me to avoid.
“You might be sorry you agreed to that,” I tease to keep things light.
“I doubt it,” he mumbles distractedly. Seconds later, I hear the sound of a heavy door snapping closed before he lets out another sigh. “I hate the smell of hotel rooms.”
“I don’t think you’re staying in the right kind of hotels then.”
“Maybe not, but this is what the federal budget allowed,” he concedes.
“Is it at least clean?”
“Yeah, it’s not bad. The clean chemical smell always makes me think they are covering something up, you know?”
“Oh yeah, one of the rooms on the second floor had this thing plugged into the wall I had to take out, it was so strong. I thought the same thing, like maybe someone was smoking in there or something.”
“I hope smoking is all it was.”
The line goes quiet for a long second, and I say, “Well, I’ll let you relax.
Thank you again for meeting with me, and for your company.
It’s been a while since I… It was nice.” I stop myself from saying too much.
I actually feel like I already let too much slip.
This wasn’t a date, and I should stop acting like it was.
“It was selfish of me really, Harlyn. If it wasn’t already clear, I’m interested in a lot more than just the case.”
Warmth flushes my chest, going all the way to my cheeks as a riot of butterflies turns my belly topsy-turvy. I can’t believe he actually said that out loud. It’s been a while since I’ve dated, and I’ve never been around someone so… direct.
“Shit, did I lose you?” Boone questions after my prolonged silence.
“No, I’m just trying to think of how to respond and not sound—”
“Like you’re telling me to go to hell?” he interrupts.
“Too eager,” I finish, “but I’m pretty sure you already knew that, considering you are a world-famous profiler, and I’ve been a little obvious.”
“Not world-famous by any means, and there’s always a chance I’ll be wrong. In this case, I’m glad I wasn’t.”
“Wow, a man who admits he might not know everything. You’re really keeping me on my toes here.”
He chuckles low and slow, and it makes all that warmth I was feeling in my chest move much lower. “Oh, I’m full of surprises, Harlyn.”
I’m a little confused as to why I find that so sexy, but I can’t help marveling at the long-lost feelings of excitement and wonder filling me.
A small piece of my heart feels like it slots back into the space that’s felt so empty for so long.
Just knowing I’m capable of these feelings again is enough for the time being.
“Now, before I say something really stupid, what time should I pick you up for breakfast or brunch before our movie date tomorrow?”
I glance over at the clock, knowing I’m not going to be able to sleep for hours for an entirely different reason than I suspected, and say, “How does ten sound?”
“Like it’s later than I wanted, but I can live with it,” he acknowledges.
“See you tomorrow, Boone,” I say before I do something crazy and invite him back tonight.
“Tomorrow,” is all I hear from him before hanging up and bringing my phone to my chest. The urge to call Livy and tell her everything he said is so strong, I have to lay my phone on the nightstand to keep myself from doing it.
I even think about sending her an email, because I know she won’t see it until the morning, but when I grab my phone again, guilt fills me.
Would she be happy for me, or is it selfish to share this before she is even willing to talk to me? I put my phone back on the nightstand because I don’t know the answer. Part of me wants to think she would be happy for me, but part of me knows it isn’t fair to her, not when I froze her out.
I decide I will email her in the morning, but not about Boone. Instead, I will apologize again for moving without telling her.