Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
I t’s a good thing Adoria told me to keep my ringer on because it’s the only reason I hear her call an hour after I get home.
“Adoria? Is everything okay?”
She lets out a long sigh. “I suspect Victor and I have locked ourselves out. We’ll be home in an hour, would you be able to meet us there and let us in? It appears someone left their house keys in their other suit jacket.”
I force my lips into a smile, keeping all the irritation out of my voice when I say, “Yes, of course. I’ll be right there.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” my boss trills. “See you soon.”
I let my phone drop, keeping the frozen smile on my face as I squeeze back into my work clothes. Well. There goes my date with a nice hot bath and trashy reality TV before bed.
It’s the thin grasp on my grin that keeps me from screaming as I pile back into my car and start the fifteen-minute drive to the Havens’ house. They said they’ll be there in an hour, and that means it will take closer to two. Which would be incredibly annoying if I didn’t have a bigger problem on my hands.
A key will be needed to let my bosses back into their house.
A key I do not possess.
I park outside the familiar iron gate, trying my very best to keep an impending meltdown at bay. The Havens, and all their high-tech security gadgets, have a great system in place. Taylor and I just have to enter a PIN code to enter their fortress between the hours of 7:00 AM and 8:00 PM. The pin pads shut off before and after those cut-off times, allowing us to come and go as we please during our normal working hours. It’s for my convenience—at least that’s what the Havens swore when I started the job. Though I suspect the measure has more to do with preventing an over-eager assistant from overstaying their welcome.
But it’s a quarter after nine. And this assistant isn’t paid enough to scale ten-foot-tall spires. I begin to pace, wondering how much of my body I could fit between the iron rails.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I whip around at the sound of a very familiar and very irritated voice.
Taylor rolls up his sleeves as he trudges to my side. And I’m not sure whether his grim expression is directed at me, or the iron obstacle before us.
“Victor called you, too?”
I see Taylor nod out of the corner of my eye and I sigh. Of course he did. Why subject one of us to the impossible task ahead if they can subject us both? I’d say two heads are better than one but I somehow doubt Taylor and I will make a good team.
I watch him approach the gate to half-heartedly tug at the metal bars. They don’t budge.
“I’m going to call a—”
“Locksmith?” I interject. “Tried at least three on the ride over. None of them can get here before the Havens.”
Taylor grimaces. He knows what that means. It doesn’t matter whether we can solve the Havens’ problem. It only matters whether we can solve it without inconveniencing them. If their front door isn’t open by the time they get home, all of our efforts will be in vain.
I glance down at my phone. We have already lost forty-five minutes. We’ve got an hour left to make a miracle happen.
“All right,” Taylor mutters, rolling up his sleeves. “All right.”
Before I can advise him not to, he launches himself at the gate.
“Hedlund!” I yell, brows shooting up as I watch him create footholds in the twisted metal. “What the fuck!”
He ignores me, focusing all his effort on scaling the ten-foot-tall monstrosity. Carefully, he swings one leg over the spiked top, and then the other.
My eyes are saucers as he climbs down the other side, jumping to the ground without so much as breaking a sweat.
“What the fuck,” I repeat in a quieter voice.
Taylor catches my eye. A hint of humor flashes through those hazel depths. But in a blink, it’s gone. He’s scowling when he finally addresses me.
“I’m going to check the house first.”
I nod, crossing my fingers the Havens left their front door unlocked. But Taylor returns moments later, dashing my hopes with a grimace.
“Can you open the gate from the inside?” I ask, trying to peer through the bars.
Taylor heads to the intercom box, scouring the part of the gate hidden from my view. I breathe an audible sigh of relief when he presses something that parts the gate in half. He doesn’t wait for me to join him on the other side before he begins the trek back up to the house.
I follow after him, sweeping my gaze across the driveway. The Havens aren’t the type to leave a spare key beneath a rock, or atop a doorframe. I doubt they even keep a spare. Why should they when they can order their assistants to stage a break-in instead?
“Front door is locked,” Taylor calls out. “I’m going to check the back. Try the windows?”
I follow his order without complaint. Splitting up is the only way we’ll make it through the evening without killing each other. Feeling like a cat burglar, I tiptoe around the Havens’s potted plants, pushing against every one of the seven windows on their first floor. Not a single one budges.
I find Taylor in the backyard with both hands buried deep in his hair. He looks like he’s grown a five o’clock shadow in a matter of minutes, the bags beneath his eyes darker in the garden’s muted light.
“Sliding door is locked. Windows, too?”
I blow out a breath. “Yeah.”
We stand side-by-side in the bleakest kind of quiet. According to my watch, we have half an hour to figure this out. To prevent what the Havens will surely label a disaster. I don’t dare mention it out loud, but I know for a fact their last assistant was fired for less.
“Okay, okay, okay,” I breathe, the word becoming a chant. “Okay, we’ve got this. We just need to find an alternative way in. That’s not so hard, right? If the Bling Ring could do it, surely we…”
My gaze stalls on the wooden beams of the Havens’ second-floor balcony. Three months ago, Adoria decided to unscrew the doorknob from one of the French doors to complete an avant-garde sculpture she donated to some Brentwood gallery. She hasn’t asked me to hire a handyman to replace the hardware…which means the door is almost definitely still lock-less.
“The trellis,” I think out loud, swiveling my gaze to the crisscrossed wooden beams leaning against the balcony.
Taylor’s brows shoot up. “What are you talking about…” His question trails off as it hits him. He strides over to the trellis, planting a foot on top of the makeshift bars. The wood groans, already protesting his weight.
I hold up a hand. “Let me try.”
Taylor shoots me a skeptical look as I step forward. I ignore him, wedging one foot between the wooden beams, then switching my weight to test the hold. I’m ready to gloat when the wood beneath my foot splinters. I hop off the trellis before it splits in two, heat flooding my cheeks.
Mercifully, Taylor doesn’t say a word when I stumble back to his side.
We’re so close. Way too close to give up now. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Taylor turn in a circle. I do the same, looking for anything we can fashion into a ladder.
Aside from the oak tree wrapping around most of the Havens’s garden, the yard is woefully bare. I glare at the tree, following its wide trunk to the tops of its spindly branches. And then I suck in a breath. One of those branches is as thick as my thigh and reaches right past the second-floor balcony.
I start toward the tree, making all of the mental calculations. If I could somehow shimmy up its trunk and inch down that branch, I would be able to drop directly down onto the balcony. Or break every bone in my body trying.
Taylor looks between me and the tree and appears to read my mind. “No. No way, Montes.”
“Got a better idea?” I wait, sincerely hoping he does.
Taylor’s cheeks hollow. “I’ll do it.”
“You’ll snap the branch.” I shake my head. He’s got at least fifty pounds of pure muscle on me. If one of us has any chance of making it onto the balcony, odds are it’s me. But I can’t do it alone. “Can you give me a leg up?” I avoid Taylor’s gaze, gesturing at the first branch hanging several feet above my head.
I wait for him to scoff, say he’d never willingly touch my body. But Taylor crouches down, offering me a single wordless nod. His arms flex over his chest as he looks up expectantly. Ever so slowly, I step between his legs, trying to decide the best way to hoist myself up. I have just decided to use his knee as a stepping stool when Taylor shakes his head.
“You won’t be able to reach from there. You’ll need to get on my shoulders.”
Our gazes collide with his admission. This time, it’s my turn to read Taylor’s mind. He wants me pressing my lady bits against the back of his neck about as much as I do. But what choice do we have? I glance back at the tree, wincing at what I find. The first branch is a full foot higher than I can reach on tiptoes. We’re going to need to utilize Taylor’s full height if I hope to pull myself up.
I shuffle a couple steps forward, taking in the top of Taylor’s bowed head. How strange the sight is. Once upon a time, I used to fantasize about running my fingers through those silken strands. Now, I would pay good money to be anywhere but here.
Taylor’s head jerks up when I take another step. “You can’t get on this way.”
I blink, his words taking a second to sink in. When they do, I jump back. “Right,” I mutter, letting out a strained laugh. I circle him, pausing by his back. I just need to climb on , I tell myself. Easy. Just…do it.
But I don’t. I swing my arms forward, missing his shoulders by several inches. I rack my mind, trying to recall if I have ever actually touched this man before. Besides the accidental brush of his shoulders or fingertips, the answer is no.
But that’s about to change in a big way.
“My legs are cramping,” Taylor grumbles. “Can you get on?”
The irritation in his voice finally spurs me forward. Steeling myself, I swing one leg over his shoulders, letting out a surprised squeak when I pitch off-balance. Before I can fall back, a strong hand shoots out. Taylor presses down on my upper thigh, steadying me. His fingers tighten, giving me enough support to swing my other leg over. And before I know it, he’s standing up.
I let out a little breath, trying not to squirm as he rises to his full height. I’d surely topple right off if not for his ironclad grip on my legs. He squeezes once, as if to say steady when he begins to advance toward the tree.
My arms feel stiff as I try to figure out where to place my hands. The obvious choice is on top of Taylor’s head , but then again, I quite like having working fingers—a privilege I would surely lose if Taylor felt me reaching for his hair.
After a moment of hesitation, I rest my hands on top of my thighs. As if that will keep me from noticing how strong Taylor’s shoulders are. That I can feel them flex beneath me. He has to have some kind of crazy abdominal strength to keep the both of us upright, and even that thought is too much. If I let my mind wander, it will inevitably wind up beneath his shirt, and those rippling muscles I’m not-noticing will be burned behind the backs of my eyes forevermore.
It doesn’t help that Taylor is flexing his hands, kneading my thighs without meaning to. Tingles erupt wherever his fingers trail and I press my lips together, studiously ignoring the sensation.
Taylor stops, and gravity nearly gets the best of me once more. “Easy,” he mutters, hands sliding down to circle my calves.
“I’m good,” I say, cursing myself for sounding a bit breathless.
“If I stay still, do you think you can make it?”
I survey the tree, gulping when I deem his ask feasible. “Yeah, just give me a sec.”
I indicate for Taylor to back up until the branch hits my lower waist. Holding my breath, I place both hands atop the wood, pushing myself up and off Taylor’s shoulders until I can swing a leg over the branch. Taylor keeps his hands by my hips, watching with pursed lips until he’s certain I won’t fall.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks, gazing up at me with a strange expression. He can’t possibly care about what happens to me. But is that a hint of concern darkening his eyes?
Rather than answer, I scoot down the branch until I can wrap both arms around the tree trunk. Using it as an anchor, I push to my feet. It isn’t so hard to step onto a knotted part of the bark, pulling myself up and onto the next branch. I repeat the process twice more, trying not to look down.
“Used to climb all kinds of trees as a kid,” I say, distracting myself with the lie as I inch down the wood. The balcony is less than three feet away. There’s no reason I can’t make it.
“Yeah?” Taylor asks, a note of derision in his voice. “Ever fall out of one?”
I ignore that. Choosing instead to focus on the Spanish tiles slowly coming into view. There will be a small drop once I make it to the patio. Unless Taylor has manifested me taking a slightly more terrifying plunge.
In my peripheral, I see him moving under me, his arms extended like he intends to catch me should I fall. And, hey, maybe he could. The muscles I felt cording his back certainly suggest he can handle my weight and then some…
I shake my head, ejecting the thought from my mind. I need to focus. I need to take a deep breath. I need to…
With a squeal, I wiggle myself off the branch and jump onto the patio. Taylor shouts something that sounds strangely similar to my name, but the heartbeat in my ears drowns it out. When I open my eyes and decide I haven’t broken any important limbs, I flash Taylor a thumbs up.
He returns it, his jaw dropping open in apparent disbelief.
“I’m going to check the lock!” I call out, whispering a silent prayer before I reach for the doorknob
With a single twist…I’m in. The sandalwood scent of the Havens’ home envelops me as I nearly tumble into their master bedroom. I let out a laugh that sounds more like a cry and hurry downstairs. Taylor is waiting when I swing the front door open, and this time, the smile on his face reaches his eyes.
“We actually did it,” I say, a new laugh distorting my voice.
“We did it,” he breathes, head shaking like he can’t believe it. “And with…” he checks his watch. “Five whole minutes to spare.”
I take two steps forward, nearly launching myself into his arms before I remember where I am. Who he is. I clear my throat, crossing my arms in front of my chest instead.
“Thank you,” I say, sincerely. “I wouldn’t have been able to pull this off without you.”
Taylor blinks, like he’s trying to clear the lingering delight in his eyes. But his cheeks are still faintly flushed when he shakes his head. “That was all you. Good job, Montes. I owe you one.”
I can’t help it. My lips curl into a half smile.
Even more shocking, Taylor returns it.