One to Protect (One to Hold Book 3) (14 page)

It seems to have been intended for deliveries, but most the doors are welded shut or appear unused. She watches as I try them, one after the other.

“You don’t approve of me.” She’s following me a few steps behind, and today she’s in black leggings and boots, topped off by a short bomber jacket and white sweater that doesn’t even cover her ass.

“You came into my office, set up my partner…” I grunt as I push on another sealed door. “No. It’s safe to say I
don’t
consider you one of the good guys.”

She pulls her long, brown hair over her shoulder in an elegant sweep. Again, I’m impressed at her ability to shrug off the white trash so easily. “I’m sorry I fucked with Patrick, but I didn’t have the whole story. And I needed the money.”

“You fucked with my business, my reputation. It’s the same as if you fucked me.”

“I think I’d remember that.” Her voice is soft, and she smiles up at me.

I shake my head. I’m not sure if she’s attempting to mend bridges or flirt, but I’m not interested in either option. “You’ll need to be here for us to see you.” Pointing to the black metal door with the orange band across the bottom. “Can you remember this door? It’s pretty distinctive.”

“I think I’ll remember it.”

“Okay.” I nod and head back up the alley to where Patrick’s supposed to meet us. This should work.

Once we’re together at the top, she tries again. “I’ve never seen a man like you do that before.”

My brow lines. “What are you talking about?”

“That day in Raleigh, when you left so fast and took Patrick’s car.” Her arms are crossed and she looks genuinely concerned. “It’s hard to believe someone like you can feel fear.”

“Everyone feels fear.” I look at my hands again. “Just target the one thing they can’t live without.”

I close my fist, and I can’t help thinking I could end this, no charade necessary.

She touches my arm. “I decided that day I’d do whatever you asked. What do you want me to do?”

For a second, I’m confused. Then I realize she’s talking about Sloan. “Oh. I don’t know.” I exhale deeply. “I’m not looking to be judge, jury, and executioner here. I just want whatever it takes to put him away for good.”

“If you’re not judge, jury, and executioner, then you don’t want him out of your life permanently.” Her dark eyes hold mine, and I can see she’s waiting for me to say the word. It’s hard to believe this small woman might be capable of doing anything more forceful than turning state’s witness.

“You’re wrong. I do want him out of our lives permanently.”

She’s still holding my gaze when I hear Patrick approaching.

“Okay!” His breezy voice breaks through the tension. “I’ve got it all set up. Derek and I’ll be on the balcony. It’s closed, so you won’t hear us, but we’ll be there… What’s going on?”

He stops in front of us, and I know my partner’s too smart to be fooled. “What’s the plan if Star gets in over her head?”

“I won’t.” Her voice is sharp and argumentative. “You two just stay back and let me handle it. Don’t fuck up our case being overprotective.”

Patrick nods. “Safe word. You need a safe word, T.”

“What the hell?” She’s confused, but I see where he’s going with it. He’s right.

“What’s something you can yell that you’d never say during sex?”

A laugh bursts from her mouth with an exhale. “Sangria?”

“Can you yell that?” Patrick’s running it over in his mind, and I can tell he approves already. “It’s good because it won’t alert the other patrons. They’ll think it’s just some drunken diner…”

“Hell, it won’t even alert him if he’s not paying attention.” I’m irritated that Star’s smart. She could do more with her life than this.

“Sangria it is.” Patrick leads us out of the alley. “Now we just have to get changed, head to the bar and wait.”

Hours later, we’re back at the Oceanaire.

Patrick is the only one in the bar with Star. He’s not even with her; he’s down a few seats nursing a vodka tonic. Sloan knows me, so once they’re situated, I head to the secluded balcony to wait.

The staff doesn’t even look up when I pass through the side hall off the kitchen and dash up the narrow flight of stairs.

I’ve only seen this spot from the outside. Inside is a whole different story. It’s technically
not
a balcony. It’s more like a closet with a window that opens. It’s tight and cramped, and it smells like musty socks and body odor. I cover my nose with my hand, thinking this is going to be a long night. What I’m pretty sure is a used condom lies discarded in the corner.

Apparently this is a hot spot for hookups. My first thought is we should’ve put Star here, but then she would’ve been too inaccessible. My second thought is what the hell did Patrick say he and I would be doing up here? Fuck it. I can’t worry about that now.

I text him to turn on the surveillance app, so I can hear what he’s seeing. His phone will be out on the bar, and the technology’s not perfected. I’ll get plenty of noise along with the conversation through my earbuds, but I’ll be able to follow what they’re saying.

He texts back they’re not in place yet, and I have to wait. Tension tightens the muscles in my abdomen. Fucking surveillance. I’ve never liked how much waiting was involved in this part of this job. It’s a big reason private investigative work lost out over corporate when Stuart and I set up the firm. I feel around the one small window looking for a latch to release it. If we have to get down there fast, one of us can jump. Pushing it open and looking down, I decide that’ll be Patrick’s job.

A blip on my phone, and I know the subject’s in the building. I’m so tense, the muscles across my upper back ache. Star’s competent. She’s demonstrated her street smarts and experience. She’s committed to this job for more reasons than just helping us. But right now is our most important moment. If this blows up, we could lose our licenses. We could be arrested for entrapment…

This has to work.

I slip the earbuds in my ears. Noise.

The ting of ice against crystal, crash of liquor bottles against racks.

Voices are speaking, but I don’t hear anything familiar.

Finally, a voice I do recognize cuts through the din.

“I’m sorry.” Star’s tone is breathy and high. Marilyn Monroe. “Do you mind if I wait here? I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

“Of course not.” Sloan is casual, but I’m a guy. There’s a spark of interest there.

Tonight, she’s wearing a filmy black dress that ends at her knees. It’s got a high slit on the side and thin straps over her shoulders, so it’s clear she takes care of her body. We got her a very light golden spray-tan and her hair is styled loose down her back. A silver cuff bracelet, thin necklace, and small hoop earrings are her only accessories. She’s classy, but also sexy enough to get the wheels turning.

The noise of the bar is loud in my ears, and I can only imagine what’s happening. Bartenders moving fast, patrons waiting to put in drink orders. Finally, Sloan orders a Manhattan. Star already has a cosmopolitan—a drink she says is for wannabe little bitches. Whatever. So long as she keeps all that to herself.

“Oh,” more Marilyn. “I’m sorry again. It’s so crowded here tonight. Is it always like this?”

“Thursdays are the busiest night here.” Sloan sounds relaxed—I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. “They get the local crowd combined with the tourists just arriving.”

She breathes a soft laugh. “I wonder which of those I’d be.”

“You’re not from Baltimore?”

“No, I’m a tourist hoping to become a local.”

“So you’re relocating.”

It’s pretty banal stuff, but at least she’s got him talking.

“I hope to. I’m supposed to be meeting someone from Contemporary Staffing, but it looks like they’re not coming.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes. Did she lose him? Fuck. If he walks away, we’re left with nothing. A desperate hooker is way too suspicious for his taste.

Another agonizing minute passes.

At last a voice, but it’s not either of the ones I want to hear. “Your table’s ready Mr. Reynolds.”

Shit
.

“Well, good luck to you, Miss…”

“Brandon. Star Brandon.”

“Sloan Reynolds. Nice chatting with you.”

It’s quiet again, and my gut sinks. Now what?

Just as I was pulling out the earbud his voice comes back. “If you’re still here in a little while, I’ll be back at the bar after dinner.”

Star’s voice is a sexy purr. “I won’t go anywhere.”

Now it’s back to waiting. And hoping he doesn’t have second thoughts and order dessert.

Chapter 10: All I See

Melissa

Channel after channel passes on the screen, but nothing interests me. I can’t help wondering what might be happening miles away in Baltimore, and I chew my lip as I watch the talking heads blink and disappear, one after the other. I’m about to give up and start Internet shopping when my phone buzzes.

Snatching it up, I touch my best friend’s picture on the face. “Hey, what’s up?”

Elaine’s voice is pouty. “Are you as frustrated as I am?”

I fall back on the sofa. “Not yet, but I’m used to the weekly drought. Check with me tomorrow. I’ll be climbing the walls I’m sure.”

“After being with Brian you’d think I’d be used to it. Hell, I think my hymen grew back when we were dating.”

That makes me laugh. “You’re so crazy. That doesn’t happen.”

“Now I’m completely screwed.” She crunches something in my ear. “I’ve gotten used to Patrick being in my panties every night—I don’t know what to do when he’s gone.”

“Haven’t you been doing it over the phone?”

“Mmm…” Another crunch. “That’s actually
more
frustrating. He tells me all this dirty stuff he wants to do to me, and he’s a million miles away! It’s awful!”

“You’re supposed to finish while you’re on the phone, dum-dum.”

“I’m still all achy and needing him.” I hear her sit up fast. “Do you have a dildo?”

Laughter bursts out of me then. “I have Derek.”

“Not all week! What are you hiding? I bet you have a stash.”

Picking up the remote, I start the kaleidoscope of channels again. “I hate to disappoint you, Miss Gold Tie, but I’m not hiding a toy collection.”

“Hmm. Neither am I. We should do some research tomorrow night when I’m there.”

“What are you eating?” I’m back to watching the faces flash past on the screen.

“Popcorn. Do you want me to run by the store before I come over? After school?”

“Yes. Get chips and salsa, guacamole, tamales…”

“Real and virgin margaritas.” She pauses for a moment. “Are you doing okay? Really? This has to be bothering you.”

I stop switching channels on a talent competition and hit mute. “I’m not sure how I feel. Derek’s so convinced I’m in danger, and I can’t change his mind. I won’t let my mind travel to what he might do—the lengths he might go to.”

“Patrick’s there. He won’t let anything happen they can’t sit on. Or get out of.”

I know she’s right, but I know something more. My mind drifts to my conversation with Patrick a week ago. “He promised me…”

Elaine keeps talking. “I gotta be honest, I don’t know how you two can keep up the long distance. I
hate
it.”

“No shit. I’m starting to remember how obnoxious you were before Patrick relocated.” Bending my elbow so I can prop my head on my hand, I gaze out the window at the swaying sea oats. “We’ve agreed to end it after this job, but even if that means more time for me in Princeton, I’m not giving up my place here.”

“I love your cottage. I wish it were warm enough to sunbathe all weekend. You’ve got the best spot for going topless.”

Lying back, I stretch my arms over my head. “One more month and you can attempt to get arrested on my beach all you like.”

She laughs. “I have a feeling your beach sees plenty of risky business without me. Besides, we’ve got connections. See you tomorrow.”

“Night, Lainey.”

For a few minutes after disconnecting, I lie there and flip through photos of Derek on my phone until I can’t decide if it makes me feel better or worse. I stand and go to the kitchen to heat water in the kettle. Maybe chamomile tea will help me relax.

Turning my back to the counter to wait for the whistle, I type up a text. He’s probably not in a position to reply, but I want him to know…

Miss you so much. It’s hard to sleep outside your arms.

Holding my phone, I think of his lovely face on my pillow. At least the bed still smells like him, even if I’m not clutched tight against his chest. My phone vibrates.

Miss you too. Hope to finish here soon.

Imagining our reunion provokes a little tingle.
I have a special red nightie waiting for you.

You’re beautiful in red.

You’re beautiful in everything.