by Anne Conley
She grinned up at him. “Gotcha.”
Simon did a double-take. “What?”
“You like her. You should get over yourself and be with her.”
Simon’s head spun. What the fuck was she up to? Was everyone here about the matchmaking? He wasn’t in this business to find hookups, for Christ’s sake. He lost it—stalking around, yelling, the whole shebang. These women were going to be the death of him.
“Look, Lacie is a case. I’m working a case. Everything is professional, and when the case is finished, at least a half-dozen women in the metropolis of Austin will be safer. And I’ll be done. There’s nothing more to this, Bonnie. Let it fucking go. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get to the police station.”
He turned and grabbed a towel, just noticing Lacie and Hollerman standing at the door. He couldn’t be deterred again. “I’ve got a lead. I’m going to the station. Take her to my house and stay with her until I get there. Miriam’s got an extra set of keys.” Simon strode out of the room singly focused on his end-goal, leaving a triumphant Bonnie and a heartbroken Lacie, who had heard his tirade, in his wake.
Chapter Seventeen
Lacie had known better. He’d told her. Simon had been up front about his emotional distance from the beginning—the first kiss. He’d said it was too much.
She was the one who’d pushed. Why was it she was always so attracted to the emotionally unavailable men?
But to hear the words “just a job” was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to listen to. While Dex drove her up the winding hills of Austin to Simon’s house, tears leaked from her eyes. She hated crying. It was a sign of weakness. When people all over had real reasons to shed tears, she was crying over a broken heart.
It wasn’t that she loved Simon. She’d only known him a week. But in that week, she’d thought things about him. Assumed things. She thought they’d grown close. She could predict his moods pretty well, and his broodiness had become endearing. Lacie knew how he took his coffee, what sort of movies he liked, and that he had a particular weakness for chocolate protein shakes. She had a basic understanding of how he’d grown up, and that he’d turned into a strong, independent, kickass man in spite of his pampered upbringing.
She knew she longed for more with him, an opportunity for him to let her inside, and he’d shut her out completely.
Lacie was just a job. A means to an end.
Dex let her into Simon’s house, and she went straight to her room, shutting the door and throwing herself across the plush bed, stark in its lack of color yet unbelievably comfortable.
The comfort was misleading though.
Nothing about this situation was comfortable. She recalled all of Simon’s words. There were others, like her, who had been attacked. She wasn’t the only one. That’s what she should be crying about. There were other women, women who had probably been hurt a lot worse than she had, who were suffering. Women who didn’t have Simon Pierce to protect them, who were at the mercy of whatever madman was behind this.
But no. Her deep, body-wracking sobs were all for her own stupidity in feeling for a man who was incapable of feeling anything for her.
Simon was exhausted by the time he made it home that night. He let himself in and greeted Dex, who was sitting at the bar in the kitchen, drinking a cola from the can. The former police detective looked rough around the edges.
“Bad day with the kiddos?” Simon asked good-naturedly, even though his eyelids felt gritty from lack of sleep. He actually wished he had spent the day with the kindergarten class instead of banging his head against a brick wall at the station.
“I had no idea they could take it out of a person. I have a new respect for teachers,” Dex answered, raking his hand through his hair.
Simon looked at his friend. He’d lost some weight since they’d first met, and the workouts at the office seemed to be redistributing it in other places. His arms and shoulders looked beefier, and his waist looked smaller. His complexion had taken on a healthier look too—less sallow.
“You liking this job, Hollerman?”
“I am. It’s a lot of work, and you’re not much easier to work for than Lieutenant Nguyen, but for some reason, it’s less stressful. I like that.” He motioned to the room where Lacie was staying, and Simon’s gut clenched at what Dex was about to say. “That lady in there, though, is having a hard time with all this. She’s more scared than anybody I’ve ever seen, and after your little temper tantrum at the gym, she’s been crying all damn night. I think she’s finally asleep now.”
Dex’s eyes were soft with understanding at the stress Simon was under, yet the man was obviously trying to send Simon a message. In the month or so since he’d been with Amber, Dex had softened considerably, not flying off the handle at things his new brothers did.
“What’s she crying about?”
“What’s going on with you two?”
Simon hated when someone answered a question with a question. For fuck’s sake, he didn’t like his interrogation tactics used on himself.
“Nothing. Why’s she crying?” He was feeling fiercely protective of Lacie, and if Dex had said something to hurt her, Simon would kick his fucking ass—friend or not.
Hollerman simply shrugged, sliding off his stool. “I imagine she heard you and Bonnie’s conversation at the gym, she was there,” Dex pointed out. “But it sounds like a broken heart to me.” Without another word, he walked out the door, leaving the spare key on the counter beside his empty cola can.
Fucking softy.
That’s right. She had heard that exchange, but he’d been so stuck in his own goddamn head, he hadn’t stopped to fix things.
Did he want to fix things? Or should he just set her straight and stop whatever she thought was happening now?
Listening to the sudden silence of the house, he tried to imagine what her sobs had sounded like. He wished he knew how her pain sounded so he could end this before he hurt her more.
A fissure broke open in his chest.
The pain was real.
Well, she’d been through hell. It was no wonder she was crying. Why did it have to be a broken heart? It was most likely just stress from the attacks, compounded by the explosion last night and no sleep to speak of.
Right?
Simon couldn’t remember a time when he had ever felt less sure of himself. Even with the investigation and very few leads that made sense, he at least had a process to go through. A process he’d been trained to execute and had done for years.
But with Lacie, he was lost.
Dex said she’d started crying after his tantrum at the gym, so he tried to remember exactly what he’d said. Of course, that was hours ago—before the police station visit and all the emotions that had rolled through him at the recitation of the apprehended suspect with the video equipment. He’d been paid by some faceless person to install the equipment at every mirror and television set in the house. Exactly where they’d pulled the old cameras from.
But what did he say at the gym? Something about a relationship with Lacie being professional. What was so wrong about that? He’d said as much to her last night, right before he’d kissed the fuck out of her, and then fingered her, and …
Shit.
He couldn’t go there right now. All it did was put her taste right back on his tongue, make his knees weak with wanting her. He had to fucking focus.
Focus.
Somehow, he would make it up to her this week. He would keep Lacie safe, help her with the kids, and try to be a human being the rest of the time. Lord knows she’d put up with enough of his mood swings to make an elephant dizzy.
Chapter Eighteen
Lacie woke up the next morning with a new attitude after having cried everything out. She’d shoved all the hurt from Simon into a box, next to her fears, and pu
t it in the closet of her mind. She duct-taped it well so she wouldn’t be tempted to open the box and explore them more without a ton of effort, and now she was ready for a new day.
She came out of her room to find Simon by the coffee pot readying her cup. It was sweet, but he didn’t say anything to make it more than professional, so she simply said “Thank you” when he handed it to her.
“Did you sleep well?” Simon’s spine was stiff and straight as he watched her.
“Yes, I did. Thank you.” Oh, such manners. Her daddy would be proud.
“I had an idea about the ballroom dancing with the kids,” Simon began, and Lacie tried desperately to focus on his words and not the freshly showered smell emanating from him, or his dark eyes focusing on hers, or the way his lips curved around the rim of his coffee mug. Or who Tanya was.
“I’m all ears,” she managed, burning her tongue.
“I can teach them a series of dances, the foxtrot, the box step, the waltz, and we can have an assembly to invite the parents to at the end of the summer term.” He sounded funny, like he was reluctant to speak about this but was making an allowance. Was he extending a peace offering?
“That actually sounds really nice. We could do it during music time before recess.” That way she could still get some instruction time in, but she could also work some other stuff in there too. Counting was one thing the dancing could reinforce. They could work on colors with costuming and things. Her mind raced with the possibilities.
“Well, jump in the shower, and I’ll go make a CD of music real quick.” Simon flashed a smile at her, and her knees went positively weak. Shoving that back in the box, Lacie turned to do his bidding.
Lacie was glad to have Simon with her today instead of Dex. Even though things were slightly uncomfortable around him, she’d decided it was a discomfort of her own making. She was the one with all the expectations, but he was just being nice. She did feel safer around him, though, so she just reveled in that feeling.
Simon was chatty in the car on the way to school, telling her about the man Quinten had arrested for trying to plant video cameras in her house and what that might mean to Lacie.
It should have terrified her. Really. Somebody was going to a lot of trouble to put her in danger, and here she was in relative safety with Simon by her side. Enjoying things.
Yeah. She was nuts.
But his low voice—rough, like the scotch he enjoyed—washed over her as he replayed the events, and Lacie listened as though she were a third party, appalled but not involved. It was like they were all happening to somebody else.
Truth was, Lacie felt like nothing could touch her as long as she stayed near Simon. And she couldn’t find a single thing wrong with that assumption.
When school started, the kids were glad to see Mr. Pierce. Dex had been nice but stilted, obviously not accustomed to kids. Simon wasn’t, either, but had managed to fall into an easy camaraderie with them. He treated them like tiny grownups, and they seemed to like that. He expected them to act like adults, and they liked him for his high expectations.
It was bizarre, but it worked.
As he laughed with a group of kids during center time, Lacie watched, struggling with her feelings. After yesterday, it was clear she felt too much for him—way more than he felt for her. She couldn’t help it. She liked him. He was everything she wanted in a man, he was just the wrong man.
When it came time for “dance” class, Lacie listened with no small amount of amusement as Simon began his lecture and started fielding questions.
“Okay, who likes sports?” he began, and a sea of raised hands assaulted him. Pointing to Jamerick, he asked, “What’s your favorite?”
“Football.”
“Okay, do you think all those football players do is practice football?” At Jamerick’s nod, Simon replied, “Well, you’d be wrong. They have to practice all sorts of sports to be good at football. Football only uses certain muscles, and those guys have all sorts of muscles, right?”
One little girl raised her hand, and Simon called on her. “Do you do all sorts of sports? You have lots of muscles.”
Lacie smirked to herself. No female in a twenty-foot radius was immune, it seemed, even the young ones.
“As a matter of fact, I do. In fact, what we’re going to learn today will teach you to use some muscles you didn’t even know you had. And it will make you a more graceful football player, so you won’t fumble as much.” He smiled brightly, turned to the whiteboard in the corner, and explained the steps to the first dance they were going to do. Making all the children stand, he had them practice the steps.
“Now, Miss Hill and I will show you what it looks like when you have a partner, so watch carefully, okay?” Turning to her, Simon held out his hand. It was a simple matter, really, to show the kids, but a knot of nerves settled in Lacie’s stomach. And his eyes didn’t help.
They landed on her, and a predatory look settled in them. This was a horrible idea.
Simon stood in front of Lacie and addressed the students. “Okay, one hand will hold your partner’s.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and ran it down the length of her arm, entwining his fingers with hers as he held her arm up. “Boys, your other hand will go under her other arm, gripping her rib cage, like so.” He curved his other hand like he’d instructed, but his thumb rested just beneath her breast, softly stroking the underside.
Lacie stopped breathing.
“Both partners hold their heads up high. This is a proud dance. This is the dance of the snooty. Hold your noses in the air and be a complete snoot the entire time, okay?” Lacie followed Simon’s example. His chin was up, but his eyes were focused solely on her. “Now, the steps.” As Simon counted, he glided her across the gym floor with an audience of children. But as far as she could tell, the children had melted away.
Lacie couldn’t breathe with Simon spinning her around the floor as if they were made to dance together, leading her this way and that, finally ending in an intimate dip with his nose at her throat. Whispers and applause met her ears.
“And that is how you waltz.” Standing her upright, as if he hadn’t just tilted her world on its axis, he addressed the kids again. “When you’re older, it’s a great way to pick up chicks. Now, partner up.”
That was tricky, but as soon as Lacie caught her breath, they were pairing up children, adjusting stances, and counting aloud to the music. It was disastrous, but the kids enjoyed it anyway, and it was a fantastic way to spend the afternoon.
That night, Simon’s housekeeper had left more food for them to eat, the most enormous hamburgers Lacie had ever seen. They were delicious. They ate and laughed about the kids and whether or not the whole dancing thing would work, and then Simon told Lacie goodnight and left her to go to bed.
She was unbelievably confused. He ran so hot and cold, she had no idea what was going on anymore. All she could do was go along for the ride and hope she came out intact at the end.
Chapter Nineteen
Simon was doing everything he could to keep things professional, and he was proud of himself for doing as well as he had. As long as he didn’t touch her.
He’d even managed to be nicer. The guys at the firm wouldn’t recognize him. They’d been checking in with nightly updates, as each had gone around to different bars and clubs in the city trying to find a way for these guys to target Lacie. Hollerman had gone back to interview the one man in custody who hadn’t been released yet, the man Simon had kept from breaking into her house. All the rest had posted bail and disappeared.
Upon further questioning, Hollerman learned his family had been threatened if he broke some sort of non-disclosure agreement stating where he’d gotten Lacie’s information. Sure enough, his sister had recently been in a really bad car accident which had her laid up in a hospital. Simon thought of the explosion, which had
ruined his Jeep for examination, but he was confident someone had leaked his brake fluid out of his lines. That would explain them working for a half a mile or so, to where they’d stopped by the side of the road, and then going out at the top of the hill above the tree, which it later showed had been cut down.
Simon stayed focused on these things because he could not love Lacie. Love led to pain. To betrayal. To loss. To death.
He might not allow himself to love her, but he damn sure wasn’t going to lose her.
For Lacie, the week went on in a painful acknowledgement of her place. Simon only touched her during dance instruction, arm’s length between them, his heated fingertips sparking fires within her. It was torturous, but as he’d said himself, she was a job. Nothing more.
He was kind and funny and friendly toward her yet always alert for danger which never came.
Until Thursday night’s girls’ night.
Simon had run by her mailbox in the office before they’d left to go home and get ready for girls’ night. When he got to where Lacie waited to be walked outside, his arms were full of interoffice mail.
“Let me drop this stuff off at my desk. I’m not taking it home.” It sounded funny to talk about his house as home, but it slipped out and he didn’t correct her, so she didn’t make a big deal out of it. If she corrected herself, that would make it a big deal. Dropping the pile on her desk, she noticed one that looked personal. Slipping it into her bag, she shouldered everything and followed Simon out to his car.
They went to his house to get ready, and in spite of herself, Lacie dressed for him. She wore a green, fitted dress, with a short skirt and a cutout back and an extremely low neckline. She paired it with thigh-high stockings and a set of the prettiest underwear she had. Then she actually dug a pair of heels out of the box of shoes she’d brought over. She spent extra time on her hair, curling the ends so it fell in wavy cascades around her face. Lacie kept her makeup minimal, but she did apply some lip gloss and mascara, hoping to bring some light to her otherwise dull face.
