“And ruin the surprise?” Trish picked up her face mask and balanced it on her head. “What fun would that be?”
A crooked grin split Eric’s face, and an awkward silence hung between them until the attendant arrived with their gear. He gave them a rundown on the rules and how to operate the guns before turning them loose to start their hour-long session of aggressive team-building.
Trish had obviously gotten some pointers from their sharp-shooter friend, Emily, before they arrived. She proved a valuable asset on their team, landing shot after shot square in the guy’s chests, though she reserved most of her firepower for Eric.
Poor guy didn’t know what he was getting into, but as he ducked away from Trish’s assault, he hit Sydney in the back before she could slip behind the inflatable she ran toward.
“That was a cheap shot, asshole.” She spun, grinning, and fired back, hitting him just above the belt.
“I take ’em when I can get ’em. Ow!” He clutched his arm where a splash of red paint from Trish’s gun exploded across his sleeve.
Claire fired at Blake, clipping him in the shoulder, and he sprinted between the inflatables, out of sight.
Breathless, Sydney slid behind a barricade on the outskirts of the arena, leaning against the unfinished wood and pressing a hand to her chest to slow her breathing. Something moved in the brush, and Blake’s face appeared from behind a trunk before disappearing into the trees.
“The woods are out of bounds.” She slinked to the tree line, her gun at the ready in case this was some kind of trap. She wouldn’t put it past Eric to plan an ambush using Blake as the bait. “Blake?”
When he didn’t respond, she crept deeper into the thicket, her pulse pounding in her ears. A branch snapped, and she spun to find Blake standing to her right, holding his gun vertically by the barrel, his face mask in his other hand.
“Don’t shoot. We’re out of bounds.”
She lifted her mask onto the top of her head. “What are you doing out here?”
“Getting you alone.” The intensity in his gaze stole the breath from her lungs, and she couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping her throat.
Recovering, she swallowed and strutted toward him. “And what do you need me alone for?”
His eyebrow arched, and a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, making heat pool below her navel. His laugh had always had that effect on her. She stopped by a tree and dropped her mask on the ground before wiping the sweat from her brow.
Blake closed the distance between them, leaning his rifle against the thick trunk behind her. A bead of sweat dripped from his hairline to his eyebrow, and he flicked it away with his index finger. “I needed you alone because I want to ask you to dinner without the rest of the crew wanting to tag along.”
“You want to ask me to dinner?” She feigned surprise. If he hadn’t stepped up to the plate, she’d have taken the lead. She was tired of skirting around the edges of their desire.
“I do.”
“Like a dinner date?” She tried to fight her smile, but the curve of her lips was too strong.
“Would that be all right with you, cher?” He inched a little closer, and the masculine scents of sweat and aftershave mixed with the earth and arbor, making her head spin.
It was more than all right, but if she was going to change her path, he needed to be on the same one with her. “There’s something I need to tell you before I answer that.”
He pulled away slightly, wariness drawing out his words. “I’m listening.”
“I had a vision.”
He held up his hands. “Whatever I’m going to do, I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. I have no intentions of hurting you.”
“You’re not going to do anything.” She leaned her back against the tree. “I’m seeing a funeral.” She explained the visions and the psychedelic scenes they’d ended with. “Sean’s always there, and now he’s with Eric, Jason, and Trish. And the ends of the premonitions are just crazy. They’ve never been so abstract.”
His mouth screwed up on one side as he processed her words. “I can think of a thousand different scenarios that could lead to a funeral. I don’t think our feelings for each other are going to kill anyone…do you?”
“I honestly don’t know. I’ve run those thousand scenarios through my mind hundreds of times, and I can’t figure it out.” She chewed her bottom lip, her frustration gnawing in the back of her mind. Now he knew, but would that change anything?
He set his jaw and nodded once. “Have you told anyone about this?”
“Trish and Emily know, but I haven’t told Sean. I saw his first wife’s death, and I don’t want to put him through that again.”
He cringed. “I don’t blame you. I won’t say anything to him until we figure it out.”
“Don’t tell Eric either. He has a habit of blabbing. Jason might let it slip too. Just…please don’t tell anyone.”
“We’ll keep it between us.”
“At least until Emily is in the clear. Someone new seems to come into focus every time, and if it is a person in the coffin, it could be…”
“It could be me.”
“Or Claire or Emily or one of our family members…or even me. I don’t know. I shouldn’t have told anyone about this, but I just don’t know what to do.” Other than pray that telling Blake about the vision would be enough to change the outcome.
“Hey.” He glided his fingers across her forehead, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you for trusting me.”
She closed her eyes for a long blink, his tender touch sending warm shivers down her spine. “Given our history, if we’re going to start dating again, I thought you should know. If I slam on the brakes or start acting weird, you’ll know why.”
He smiled, his gaze dancing between her eyes and her lips. “Are we going to start dating again?”
“You did say you wanted to ask me to dinner.”
“I did, and you still owe me an answer. So…”
She licked her lips, soaking in the deep blue of his eyes. “I would love to have dinner with you. This is my night off.”
He leaned toward her, his right hand reaching behind her, and she couldn’t help herself. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his.
He froze on a quick intake of breath. Then she froze, the realization that he was not kissing her back causing her ears to burn. She pulled away, covering her mouth as he straightened, gripping the gun in his hand.
Oh, dear lord, what had she done? The heat from her ears crept across her cheeks toward the bridge of her nose, and she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping when she opened them she’d realize this had been a trip to Wonderland, and she hadn’t actually committed the worst faux pas she could think of.
Alas, when she lifted her lids, Blake stood in front of her, chewing his bottom lip.
Way to go, Syd. “You weren’t leaning in to kiss me, were you?”
He opened his mouth but paused before speaking. “I was planning to see how things went tonight before I laid one on you like that.” He lifted the gun, showing her what he’d actually leaned in for…not her lips.
Oh, the humiliation. Her face felt tight, her forced smile making her cheeks ache. “You know me. Perpetually early for everything.”
He chuckled. “That’s not a bad thing. Maybe I was just late. Let me put this back, and we’ll try that again.”
His eyes locked with hers, and he rested the gun against the tree trunk, taking her face in his hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I’ve been wanting to do this since I went on your ghost tour.”
He leaned in and took her mouth in a kiss. Gentle at first, he brushed his lips against hers, pausing with his bottom lip barely grazing her top. His chest rose and fell twice before an mmm emanated from his throat, making her limbs tingle.
Sliding her hands to his shoulders, she leaned into him, parting her lips and continuing the kiss. He responded this time, opening for her as he placed a gentle hand on her hip.
As hi
s tongue slipped out to tangle with hers, the world stopped spinning for a moment. He tasted like a wintergreen breath mint…like she remembered…and though his shoulders had filled out with muscle since she last kissed him eight years ago, the familiarity of his mouth, the softness of his kiss, and the tender way he touched her erased the time they’d spent apart.
The rustle in the trees barely registered in her mind as she lost herself in his enticing kiss, but the pop of an air rifle and the sting ripping across her bicep yanked her out of the clouds and into the present. “Ouch!”
“Sorry, Sydney.” Claire grimaced. “I have terrible aim.” She turned her gun to Blake and popped him in the chest. “There. That’s what I was shooting for. One point for the girls’ team.”
Blake lowered his brow. “That doesn’t count. We’re out of bounds.”
Claire cut her gaze between the two of them. “Yes, you are. That’s okay though.” A branch above her rustled, and a pine cone dropped onto her head. “Ouch.” She rubbed her scalp and glared at the tree. “Let’s finish the game.” She jogged back to the arena.
“Are you okay?” Blake ran a finger over Sydney’s arm, wiping away the paint.
An angry, red welt formed on her skin, but the sting had already subsided. “I’ll be fine. We better get back in there.” She grabbed her gun and returned to the game.
Half an hour later, sweaty and breathless, they piled into their cars and headed home. Sydney pulled into the parking lot of Claire’s dorm and hit the button to unlock the door.
Claire hesitated with her fingers on the latch. “So…you and Blake, huh?”
“We’re going to have dinner tonight. See how it goes.”
Claire nodded absently. “You don’t have any jealous exes or anything, do you? You’ve never dated any of the other guys in the group?”
She furrowed her brow. “Goodness, no.”
“Did Blake ever tell you how he lost his job at the museum in New York?”
“He mentioned they fired him because he refused to acquire an artifact that was a forgery. They didn’t believe him that it was fake.” An image of his jaw clenching as he told her and the guys formed in her mind. He’d been short when Eric asked him why he left New York, not wanting to elaborate.
Claire laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “That’s the official story. The truth is, he was sleeping with his married boss.”
“Oh?” Her stomach soured. That didn’t sound at all like the Blake she knew in college, but time could change a person.
“Her husband was on the board of directors, and when he found out about the affair…” She made a cutting motion across her neck. “He dragged him in front of the entire board and made a mockery of him. Told them about his ability, calling him a fraud and questioning his character. I’d hate for something like that to happen to him again. He’s made some bad decisions, but he’s still a great guy.”
“Umm… No need to worry. I’m completely single.”
“Good to know. He still talks to her sometimes, but I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Thanks for the ride, Sydney. I’ll see you around.” Claire slid out of the car and slammed the door.
Sydney gripped the steering wheel, chewing the inside of her cheek as she mulled over Claire’s words. Having an affair with a married woman was unacceptable behavior. She’d seen firsthand what infidelity could do to a family, and she wanted nothing to do with a man who was willing to sever someone’s sacred bond.
But Blake didn’t seem the kind of man who would do something like that. Not now and certainly not when she knew him before.
Chapter Eleven
If Blake’s heart didn’t stop pounding, it might burst right out of his chest. His knee bounced incessantly as he perched on the edge of the couch, waiting for Sydney to arrive, and he picked at a brown thread that had come loose on the seam of the soft fabric. He’d been a ball of excitement since she agreed to go out with him, and now his cheeks hurt from the goofy smile that had been plastered on his face since that kiss.
And what a kiss it was.
He’d almost blown it. Shock that she went for it had frozen him, and it took a full thirty seconds for his brain to comprehend what was happening. He needed to figure out her definition of taking it slow. Better yet, from now on, he’d let her set the pace.
The chatter of the television didn’t provide the distraction he’d hoped, so he turned it off and rose to his feet. Silence engulfed the room, and he stood motionless, listening for signs of his disembodied roommate. Laughter drifted in from the sidewalk below, and a car door slammed before an engine purred to life, the sounds of the living drowning out any evidence of the dead.
That was fine with him. While he’d gotten used to the residual bumps and footsteps in his apartment at night, the activity below unnerved him. Thankfully, the active ghost seemed to be contained in the museum, most likely attached to the artwork she’d been painting when she died.
That was the theory, anyway.
He tried to ignore the feeling that the air in his apartment grew heavier by the day. The occasional static charge in the atmosphere and the way his arm hairs liked to stand on end every now and then were purely symptoms of his nervousness. Between the ghost downstairs and Sydney coming back into his life, he’d been on an emotional rollercoaster for weeks.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. Six fifty-five. Sydney said she’d meet him at seven, but she was usually at least ten minutes early to everything.
He’d offered to pick her up, but she insisted it made more sense for her to drive into the Quarter since her house was across the river. He knew better than to argue when she had a logical reason for doing something. Her fierce independence was one of the things that drew him to her, and while she may not have needed a knight in shining armor, she deserved to be treated like a queen.
Hopefully the activities he planned for tonight would be the final crack in her own armor, and her walls would crumble. If she thought about him half as often as he’d thought about her since they reunited, they would be a couple by the end of the night. He couldn’t get enough of her.
The doorbell rang, a gentle ding-dong as opposed to the ear-splitting buzzer from below, and he trotted down the stairs to open the door.
Sydney stood on the front steps, wearing a knee-length black skirt that hugged her hips and thighs, flaring at the hem in a delicate ruffle. The top two buttons of her long-sleeved, deep blue shirt were undone, revealing a teardrop-shaped sapphire pendant, and a pair of black ankle boots completed the look. Gorgeous.
As he caught her gaze, her eyes brightened briefly with her smile before they tightened, uncertainty hardening her features.
Uh oh. Something had changed between the paintball game and now.
He joined her on the narrow front steps. “You look stunning.”
She adjusted her purse strap and glanced into his eyes before looking away. “Thanks.” Her mouth closed with an audible click. She had something to say, and the defiant set of her jaw said it wasn’t that she was happy to see him.
“We’ve got about half an hour before we have to leave. Do you want to come up?”
She looked over his shoulder at the stairway leading to his apartment and took a deep breath. “I’d rather not. Let’s take a walk or something.”
As he stepped back into the doorway, a brick settled in his stomach along with the feeling she was ready to end things before they even began. “Let me run up to grab my keys and turn off the light. I’ll be right back.”
She nodded and descended two steps to the sidewalk.
He hesitated, smiling to lighten his words. “Are you going to be here when I come down?” Because her tense posture and guarded expression said she was ready to bolt.
“Yes. We need to talk about something.”
And there it was. We need to talk. Next it would be It’s not you, it’s me. Well, it had been a fun four hours thinking he and Sydney had a chance at happiness together. Goddammit.
He took the steps two at a time, flipped the light switch, and grabbed his keys from the bowl by the door. When he reached the sidewalk, Sydney stood, grimacing and rubbing her shoulder.
“What happened?”
She glanced down the empty street. “Some asshole rammed into me as he walked past. I’m fine.” Her brow pinched, confliction clouding her eyes as she gave Blake a once-over. “You look nice.”
He smoothed his black button-up down his stomach. “Is something wrong? What did you want to talk about?”
“I spoke to Claire when I dropped her off at the dorm. Or, rather, she talked to me.” She paused, blinking at him as if gauging his reaction.
Oh, hell. “Claire has issues with coworkers dating. She’s been warning me about pursuing you since she first noticed the chemistry between us.”
“I wonder why that is.” She inclined her chin.
“Her best friend, the one who was murdered, had just started dating the manager of the restaurant where she was waitressing. Claire blames him for her death.”
Sydney’s eyes softened. “She didn’t tell me that. Was he responsible?”
“He’s a suspect. What did she tell you?”
“You lied about why you were fired.”
“Sydney, I didn’t lie.” He reached for her, but she took a step back.
“You weren’t dating your married boss? And her board-member husband didn’t fire you when he found out?”
His nostrils flared as he blew out a long breath. Emotionally damaged or not, his cousin needed to learn to mind her own business. No doubt she’d spun the tale, making Blake look like the bad guy in that career-ending train wreck. He sat on the steps and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Is that what happened, Blake, or isn’t it? Because if that’s the type of man you’ve become…”
“Sydney, no.” He stood and dropped his arms to his sides. “You know me, okay? I haven’t changed. I would never…” Goddammit, Claire. “Yes, that’s what happened, but please let me explain.”
Her eyebrows rose, and she angled her body toward him. “I’m listening.”
Love & Omens Page 11
