by Jane Blythe
“She did, well she tried, but I had uh…trust issues.” Florence yawned and pressed closer against him.
He got the feeling that her trust issues stemmed from a deeper place than just growing up poor, but he didn't want to push too hard on their first real conversation about her past. Eli understood without her having to say anything that he had to tread lightly. Right now, she was beginning to trust him, but with a father who had abandoned her, a mother who hadn't cared for her, and a procession of men in and out of her life, she hadn't had stability, and she was wary of believing that he would be any different.
But he’d prove to her that he was nothing like her poor excuse for a sperm donor and her mother’s boyfriends. He’d be there for her, he wouldn’t let her down, he’d show her what it was like to have a family who stood by you no matter what.
“Florence, I know you have trust issues, but…” he trailed off when he heard her soft exhale and realized that she had drifted off to sleep.
Not wanting to disturb her, Eli let her rest, lifting her gently so she was cuddled on his lap. Too wired for sleep, too angry about what Florence had been forced to endure growing up, he sat there for the remainder of the flight, stroking her soft locks and trying to figure out how to prove to her that he wouldn’t let her down.
By the time they landed back in New York, and he scooped her into his arms to carry her from the plane, he still had no idea how he was going to do that, but he knew one thing for certain. Florence Harris had inserted herself into his heart, and he had no wish to dislodge her.
FEBRUARY 15TH
2:45 P.M.
Last night on the plane, she’d been about to tell him everything.
Everything.
All the deep dark secrets of her soul.
Even the ones her brother didn't know about.
If she hadn't drifted off to sleep, she probably would have spilled her guts.
The knowledge had Florence on edge.
It wasn't like she hadn't known that she was falling for cocky, charming, oh so sexy Eli Lennox. She’d already been falling hard and fast, but the Valentine’s Day date in Florence had her landing right smack-dab in the middle of a relationship.
Only the landing hadn't been sharp, and prickly, and terrifying like she had been expecting. Instead it had been soft, and warm, and like walking into an embrace.
That alone had been enough to throw her off.
Obviously, given that she had nearly told Eli everything.
How could she even consider telling him that? Eli was already way out of her league, and she was probably never going to fit into his world, those differences were only going to grow more pronounced when he learned just how messed up her childhood had been. As if being poorer than poor, abandoned by one parent, ignored by another, and ostracized by the other children wasn't bad enough, when he learned that she had also been…
“Hey.”
Florence jumped at the voice.
Literally jumped.
Sprung so far up and out of her chair that it toppled over, landing with a crash on the floor, the stack of files she was supposed to be reading joined them, scattering everywhere.
“What’s going on? What was that about?” Jake asked.
“Sorry, nothing,” she mumbled as she bent down to collect the files.
“That was not nothing,” Jake argued, righting her chair and holding it out for her. “What’s with you today? You’ve been quiet, distracted, and jumpy. How was the date with Eli? Being flown to Florence on a private jet must have been pretty cool,” her partner prompted as he went back to his desk.
“Yeah, it was cool,” she agreed, sitting down and rubbing at her temples where a headache was forming.
“But?” he prompted.
What did she have to lose by talking things through with Jake? They were friends, they worked long hours together and talked about anything and everything. Maybe having someone to bounce things off would be a good idea. “I'm falling for him,” she began.
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“It depends.”
“On?”
“He says that he really likes me and that he sees a future for us. I know he lost both his parents over the last couple of years, and his brother died years ago, he wants to replace his family.”
“He’s looking for a wife and thinks that could be you,” Jake summarized for her. “I still don’t get why that’s a bad thing.”
“Because we have nothing in common. You know how I grew up, and Eli grew up in private schools traveling the world in private jets. He has enough money to do anything he wants, have anything he wants, get anything he wants. So why does he want me?”
“Is that a real question?” Jake arched a brow at her. When she didn't respond, he continued, “Maybe because you're smart, pretty, funny, compassionate, caring, thoughtful, I can go on if you're not convinced.”
Florence waved off his compliments. “I don’t come from his world. How am I going to fit in with those people?”
“Okay, well, I can get how that would be intimidating, but I don’t think Eli cares about any of that.”
“No, because he wants to get me into bed,” she muttered.
“What?” Jake choked on the coffee he’d been drinking.
“Eli is cocky, I think if I'd said yes he would have slept with me the very first night we met. But I didn't. I said no when he asked me out on a date. That made him determined, I don’t think he’s used to hearing the word no. You’ve seen him, I know you're a guy, but you have to admit that he’s off the charts sexy, not many women would be able to resist him. Especially when he turns on that charm of his. What if I'm just a challenge to him? A conquest. When he finally charms his way into my bed what if he loses interest and he moves on? Or what if he’s just after any woman because he’s decided he’s lived alone long enough and wants a new family?” Ashamed to admit her insecurities, even to her partner, Florence picked up a pen and began to spin it between her fingers.
“You want my honest opinion?”
“Of course.”
“I think you're falling in love with him and it has you running scared. I get why, you don’t have a great track record when it comes to people sticking around in your life. But I don’t think Eli is like that. I'm with you on the cocky thing, but when he spoke to me about setting up that special date for you he was excited, he couldn’t wait to share his love of Italy with you. I don’t think he’d go to that amount of trouble just to get you into bed. Wine and dine you at a fancy restaurant, yeah, maybe buy you expensive jewelry, but not fly you to Florence.”
She absorbed what her partner had just said.
She had learned early on in life that people didn't stick around.
Her mother’s men were like a revolving door, and each one seemed to be worse than the one before.
She had learned to be self-sufficient because she had to be. There hadn't been anyone around to take care of her, and it was so much easier just to rely on herself. Letting Eli in was a scary prospect. That she was on the verge of doing just that made her want to withdraw, send him on his way, and hide back down in her safe little hole. It was one thing to fall for a nice, boring guy who would never hurt her or let her down, but someone like Eli who flew to Italy on a whim, he could decimate her if she let him in and he left like everybody else had.
Exhausted from thinking about all of this, Florence raked her fingers through her hair, then awkwardly twisted it into a ponytail as the strands stuck to her cast.
“Enough about my love life, or lack thereof. Let’s talk about the case. No hits on CODIS yet?” The blood from the apartment had been running through the Combined DNA Index System for forty-eight hours now and had yet to find any matches. She was starting to believe it never would. But their killer had to be in the system somewhere. You didn't go from nothing to murder with no stops in between—especially not the kind of smooth, well-coordinated, well-executed murders of the Dumpster Killer.
“Nothi
ng yet, doesn’t mean we won't get one though.”
“Yeah,” she agreed half-heartedly. “We can wipe Justin Bates off our suspect list. He was in jail when Jana Friedrick was murdered, and I don’t think we can ignore the eye that whoever killed her painted in blood on the wall as a link to the dumpster killings.” The fact that Jana’s killer had drawn that specifically instead of writing his usual message felt like it was a message directed at her. She was the one who had figured out his body dump pattern, and he knew it because he’d tried to run her down. Memories of the other morning when she’d thought someone was watching her flitted through her mind. Had it been him? Was he fixated on her now?
“Yesterday, while you were enjoying Tuscany, I went through all the other reports we had when we ran the sketch of the killer, and I found two that I like as suspects.”
“Oh, yeah?” Her spirits lifted at the notion.
“Yep. One is a twenty-seven-year-old Frank Butterman. He’s not in the system, but he had been interviewed in the assaults of two women that he had previously lived next door to. There wasn't enough evidence to arrest him either time, but the cops were pretty positive he was their guy. The other is thirty-year-old Michael Stypes. He’s also not in the system, but there are nearly half a dozen stalker reports all where the women accuse him of following them and leaving nasty, vile messages scratched into cars and windows. He was arrested, but it never went to trial, again, not enough evidence for the DA to take it to court. His fingerprints are on file but not his DNA, so we wouldn’t get a hit in CODIS for him. Which one do you want to look into?”
“I’ll take Frank Butterman,” she said, taking the file he held out to her. Two suspects, and the time pressure of knowing that the Dumpster Killer wouldn’t be able to wait long before going after another woman should be enough to keep her mind occupied, so she didn't obsess over her very own cocky savior, Eli Lennox.
* * * * *
6:10 P.M.
“Hey, princess, how was your day?” Eli straightened up from where he’d been leaning against the car and walked over to greet Florence as she walked out of the police precinct.
She looked over and offered up a smile, but he could tell immediately that something was off. “My day was fine. How was yours?”
“Fine. I missed you.” He leaned down to kiss her, and while she kissed him back without hesitation, he still got the feeling that something was up. “I thought I would take you out for dinner. Something fancy, I wanted to treat you.”
“I think the trip to Florence was enough of a treat for one week.”
“A trip around the world wouldn’t be enough of a treat for one week,” he countered. “I thought we could go for drinks and then for dinner.”
“Actually, Eli, do you mind if we take a rain check? I have a headache, and I was going to go straight home, take a hot bath, and then go to bed early.”
What she said sounded logical, and she did look tired and a little drawn, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was pushing him away. She had a distant look in her eyes and her tone, and he felt like she was trying to dismiss him, albeit politely.
What had happened between last night and tonight?
Last night she had been curled up at his side, fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder after opening up to him about her childhood, and today she was pushing him away again.
“Sure, of course. I’ll drive you home, and if you want I can come up, I make a mean chicken noodle soup, and I don’t want to brag, but I give the best massages, ten minutes with my hands on those tense shoulders of yours and you’ll be out like a light, you’ll sleep like a baby through the night.”
“You don’t want to brag?” she asked with an arched brow. “Because that doesn’t sound like you.”
Eli relaxed a little at her teasing banter, maybe he was just getting a weird vibe from her because she was feeling sick with a headache. “Okay, I am bragging about my massages, I have a reputation to maintain after all.”
“Well, not that I think you're overselling yourself, but I'm going to pass, I just want to sleep.”
“All right,” he agreed. It went against his every instinct to acquiesce so easily, but she’d kissed him, and she’d teased him, he had to believe that she was just worn out and not trying to push him away. After hearing what he’d told her about her past he understood why she might want to push him away. She hadn't had anyone to trust, and believing that he wasn't going to be just another person to hurt her had to be hard. If she needed a little space he could give her that.
Taking her hand, he led her over to the car and helped her inside. When he slid in beside her and put an arm around her shoulder, she leaned into him and laid her head on his shoulder.
The ride to her apartment didn't take long, and he soaked in the feel of her warm, soft body against his. His fingers stroked her hair which was hanging loosely around her shoulders, and rubbed up and down her arm, pleased when she gave a small content sigh and snuggled closer. His heart squeezed almost painfully at the sound, he wanted this so much it hurt.
How did he convince Florence of that?
He’d told her over and over again that he was serious about her and that he didn't care that they had grown up in two different worlds. He’d tried to show her with his actions as well, the trip to Florence was meant to show her just how special he thought she was, it wasn't something he did with every woman he dated.
As much as it killed him, maybe he had to take a step back and let her come to the same place he was on her own. He couldn’t force her to believe him, he could continue to show her, but in the end, she had to learn to believe in him.
“Want me to walk you up?” he asked when they pulled up in front of her building.
“No, thanks. If I let you come up you're just going to try to convince me to let you in, I know what you’re like.” The smile she gave him this time was almost sad like she knew what he was like, but her past was trying to convince her that she was wrong, and there was something sinister hiding underneath his persona.
“All right, call me if you feel worse and I can be here in fifteen minutes,” he told her.
“Okay,” she agreed.
“Call me if you change your mind and want that massage.” He winked.
“Okay,” she said again, this time with an eye roll.
“Call me if you get lonely and need some company.”
“Eli,” she said overly patiently, “I promise I will call you if I need you. But believe it or not, I know how to take care of myself.”
“You don’t need to take care of yourself anymore now though, princess. You have me. And I want to take care of you when you're sick.” He cupped her cheek in his hand and fixed his eyes on hers, holding her gaze and not letting it go like he could help her look inside his mind to see he was telling her the truth.
“I appreciate that,” she said, but her bottom lip trembled a little and for a second he was terrified she was going to cry. Women and tears were not something he was good at dealing with. Was any guy?
“Sleep well, princess, I’ll text you to say goodnight later.” He leaned in and feathered his lips across those sweet lips of hers.
“Night,” she whispered when he released her. With a wave, she turned and hurried into her building, pausing to look back before the door swung closed. His instincts were screaming at him to go after her, but he didn't want to crowd her right now when she was obviously battling against herself.
He asked his driver to take him back to the office, he may as well get some more work done since the evening he had planned for Florence wasn't going ahead. He’d give her an hour or two to take her bath and then he’d check in, make sure she was okay, and wish her sweet dreams.
Making his way through the quiet building, he saw the light on in Graham’s office and thought he might stop by, see if Graham had any advice for what he should do next with Florence.
“Hey, Graham, do you…” he broke off as he opened the door to find Graham with his ar
ms wrapped around Soraya, their hair and clothes were mussed, their lips locked, and the desk in disarray. Obviously he had interrupted their office rendezvous. “I am so glad you guys have your clothes on.”
“If you'd walked in five minutes earlier we wouldn’t,” Graham said. “What are you doing here? I thought you had plans with Florence.”
“She said she had a headache so I dropped her off at her apartment.”
“Florence is the cop, right? The one you saved a few nights ago?” Soraya asked, disentangling herself from Graham’s arms.
“She is,” he nodded. “Yesterday we had this amazing day in Florence, and today she’s back to pushing me away again. I don’t get her. Scratch that, I don’t get women,” he said, walking over to the desk and sinking down into one of the chairs.
“You took her to Florence?” Soraya asked wide-eyed.
“For Valentine’s Day.”
“You took her all the way to Italy for Valentine’s Day? Graham, you are really failing in the dates department, you gotta lift your game,” she said, swatting her husband on the arm, then she turned her attention to Eli. “She’s probably not used to being whisked off to another country for a date, I mean it’s such a sweet idea, but I'd be overwhelmed if I were her. I remember going to a charity ball with Graham when we first got together, and I felt out of my element, I can't imagine how I would have felt if he’d done that. I mean, I would have loved it, and the gesture would have touched me, but I would have also felt so out of his league.”
“It really would have been that big a deal to you?” he asked. If it was that big a deal to someone like Soraya who had lived a middle-class life, then he couldn’t imagine how it would have felt for someone who grew up the way Florence had.
“Oh, yeah. Being around rich people can make the rest of us nervous, especially since she likes you and probably doesn’t want to disappoint you,” Soraya told him.
“She could never disappoint me.”
