“We could fill a library with what we don’t know about each other, Simone. And don’t apologize. It’s my problem, not yours. I’m not your responsibility. I never was.”
He might not have meant it as an accusation, but it struck her like one. “Are you in recovery? Do you go to support groups?”
“I’ve gone to meetings. This is something I’ve come to terms with. It’s who I am. It’s probably who I’ve been for longer than I care to admit. And, come to think of it, I should have told you before now, if for no other reason than you thought you were hiring someone else.”
“What?” It took her a second to understand what he meant. In an instant, the haze that descended evaporated. “Wow. You know what? That’s insulting.”
“It is?” He rubbed his chin.
“That you’d think I’d be so callous about you admitting you have a problem.” It was all she could do not to take a swig out of the bottle but he was right. Drinking herself into oblivion wasn’t going to do any good other than leave her with a hangover in the morning.
His eyebrow arched in that way that made her tummy itch. “I don’t recall saying that. But I’m not the guy you married, Simone.”
“You’re telling me—” Words failed her, but she didn’t stop moving around the counter to stand in front of him. Staring at him, feeling the heat of him radiating against her, she realized he’d never been more correct. He wasn’t the man she’d married. He was more. So much more. “I’m not judging you, Vince. How can I when I have plenty of weaknesses myself? Wait.”
She pressed a hand against his chest, felt his heart pounding. “Is this why you didn’t want to work for me? Were you afraid this case would threaten your sobriety?” She frowned and his eyes lit up. “Then yes, you should have told me. I would have understood. I don’t want to be the reason you start drinking again.”
“My drinking isn’t the reason I wanted to say no.” He looked down at her hand, hesitated, then lifted his gaze back to hers. “It isn’t the only reason. I didn’t want to take the job because being around you is...difficult.”
“Oh, come on. I’m not that bad, am I?” Her attempt to laugh ended when she saw the pained expression on his face.
“You said we’re being honest with each other, Simone. So let’s be honest. There’s still something here. Nothing’s fizzled out between us. That spark we had, it didn’t go away. It only got hotter. Judging by that look, I’m guessing you agree.”
She smoothed her hand down his chest, skimmed her fingers along the front of his jeans. “Maybe.”
“I’m also betting it scares you as much as it does me.” He dipped his head toward hers. An inch, maybe two, but enough to capture her attention and her imagination.
She couldn’t argue with him. She couldn’t breathe. The last time they’d slept together had been so intense, so powerful she hadn’t had time to think, or to contemplate what would happen when reality crashed through their honeymoon hangover. Only then had they begun to see—and admit—that neither of them had any clue how to be married. It had been easier to give up and part ways. “Vince—”
“Everything I’ve ever done, ever seen, you’re what really scares me. And I have no idea what we’re going to do about it.” He lowered his voice, stroked his finger down the side of her face. “But before this case is over, it’s safe to assume we both know where we’re going to end up.”
She moved in, that rational part of her mind clicking off as she brushed against him. His eyes darkened as his hand skimmed down her neck, over her shoulder, trailing teasing fingertips along her arm to that sensitive bend in her elbow. “Is it really going to take us that long?”
“It should take us that long.” He caught her wrist and drew it up to his mouth, pressed his lips against the skittering pulse beneath her suddenly too-hot skin. “You have enough running through your head, keeping you up at night, without adding us to the mix.”
“There’s one thing wrong with your theory.” Simone locked her arms around his neck and pressed herself into him in every way she could manage. How his firm body melded into hers stoked every bit of desire she felt. “You were part of the reason I couldn’t sleep.”
She kissed him, deep and slow, reveling in his surprise, and finally his acceptance. There was no frenzy, no urgency, only her need to be close to him, to have him touching her, kissing her, reminding her that she was, when all was said and done, still alive.
He let her take what she needed, matching her moment for moment as he brought her in tight against him. He wanted her, still wanted her, and that knowledge set her to wanting more.
“Simone.” His whisper against her lips did little to break through the fog. “Simone, stop. I meant what I said.” He drew his hands up her sides, grasped her shoulders and set her on her feet. “Tonight isn’t the night.”
She hooked her heel behind his calf and tugged his hips against hers. “You sure about that?”
He squeezed his eyes shut and set her back. He stepped away, as if he needed the extra space to breathe. “Man, I’m going to need another shower.”
He was serious. “You mean it?” Her cheeks flooded with warmth. “You don’t want to keep this going?”
“Oh, I want to. But there’s this horrific honorable tag you’ve labeled me with that keeps getting in the way. The last thing I want you to wake up with in the morning is regret. When the time comes, Simone, I don’t want anything, including the past, coming between us.”
He headed up the stairs and she waited until she heard the shower running before she withdrew into her bedroom, back into her bed. The blankets did little to warm her against the chill of loneliness that she was only now beginning to understand had become a part of her.
Simone tried to relax but was unable to stop herself from counting the passing seconds, her body taut, her mind braced for the weight of responsibility that was bound to return.
The mattress dipped behind her. She gasped as his arm slipped under her and scooped her against him. She curled into him as she’d always done, her head on his shoulder, her leg braced between his. She slipped her hand down his chest, lower, her fingers resting above his waistband. He pressed a soft kiss against her forehead, brought their linked hands up close to his heart as a solitary tear trickled out of the corner of her eye.
He always knew.
“Go to sleep, Simone.”
She closed her eyes. The carousel slowed. The thoughts faded. And she slept.
Chapter 10
“I come bearing coffee! Come and get it while it’s hot!”
Simone shot up. Her front door had just slammed and someone was calling to her. She shifted her legs against something, or rather someone else, solid. “What time—” She leaned over Vince to grab her phone and resisted the urge to shiver as his hand slipped beneath her shirt. His fingers brushed the base of her spine.
“I’ve missed this.” His voice was soft and sweet, his breath warm against her neck.
“It’s after nine. How can it be after nine?” She shoved her hair out of her face and stared at him. “I was a teenager the last time I slept this late.”
“If there’s a compliment in there, I missed it.” His sleep-tinged voice made her insides tingle.
“Get up!” She scrambled over him and rolled out of bed, barely dodging his searching hands.
“If that’s your mother, she does know you’re a grown woman, right?”
“As if my mother ever cared about what I do with—” She looked over her shoulder as he sat up. Her heart skipped a beat.
“With what?” He scooted back against the headboard as she searched her dresser for something to throw on. “People like me?”
“People like you?” Had she heard him right? She hugged the oversize white T-shirt and matching pants against her chest. “You mean men?”
&n
bsp; “Men. Red-blooded, hardworking males.” He grinned.
“I often have,” she tossed back, verbally dancing on that thin line to the conversation they’d started last night. Now was not the time to take her up on her offer to...reconnect. “Now would you please—?”
“If you’re expecting me to hide in the closet, think again.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“I wasn’t going to ask you to do that.” She turned her back on him so she could strip, drag on her underwear and then her clothes. “I was going to suggest the bathroom.”
“I sit corrected.”
“Vince! Would you please—”
There was a quick knock and then...“Hey, boss lady, your coffee’s getting cold.”
Simone squeaked and leaped back as her bedroom door swung open. “Morning, Kyla.” She readjusted her waistband and reached for the cup as her assistant turned gleaming eyes to the bed. “Ah, I overslept.”
“Yeah, I can see why.”
“You know when you smile that wide I can see the fillings in your molars.” Simone tried not to be blinded by the tropical pattern of orange, red and turquoise mingling on the young woman’s maxi-dress.
“Uh-huh. You must be Vince.” Kyla pushed Simone out of the way and strode over to Vince. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so little about you.”
Vince shook her hand before he threw the covers back.
“Oh, wow!” Kyla’s hands shot up to cover her eyes. “That’s more of an introduction than I expected.”
“Relax.” Simone laughed. “He’s wearing pants. He wore pants all night.”
“He did?” Kyla’s flushed embarrassment shifted to disappointment. “Well, that sounds positively uncomfortable. Exactly how does that—”
“It’s nice to meet you, Kyla.” Simone could swear he was actually enjoying himself. “I appreciate you coming over here on your day off. I assume you have some information for me?”
“I do, indeed, Vince.” She nodded and her curls bobbed accordingly.
“Wait, you called her?” Simone couldn’t quite come to terms with the surreal situation in her bedroom. “When?”
“Yesterday afternoon. He had an assignment for me.” Kyla blinked at her. “You told him he could use me. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Oh, for the love of—” Simone grabbed Kyla’s shoulder and steered her out of the room, then leaned in to glare at Vince. “You. Out of bed. Now.”
“I wish you’d make up your mind. Get in my bed. Get out of my bed...”
Simone slammed the door.
“I like him.” Kyla’s bright eyes looked like overblown Christmas lights as she unloaded chocolate croissants and popped an additional coffee cup out of the travel container. “Not anything like I expected.”
“Who did you expect exactly?”
“Well, he’s really got that action-movie-star thing going on, doesn’t he? Can he do an English accent? ’Cause, he is—”
Simone growled in the back of her throat.
“Okay, all joking aside,” Kyla laughed. “You’re going to be glad he called me. I spent yesterday afternoon poking around a little, trying to find out what I could about Cal Hobard.”
Simone, who was sipping coffee out of one of the cups Kyla had brought, stopped midslurp. “Vince had you looking into Cal Hobard?”
“He just wanted some basic background information. Education, family, employment history and such. I’ve got a report ready to—”
“Tell me you did this at home and away from your office computer.”
Kyla frowned. “Most of it.”
Most of it? Simone pinched the bridge of her nose. “Did Vince happen to mention we think Hobard might have something to do with Mara’s disappearance?”
“He might have mentioned there were some concerning pictures. It’s not any big deal, Simone. I needed to grab some passwords and file names from the system.”
“You hacked into the private server of the DA’s office. Kyla—”
“It’s not the first time I’ve done it. All the assistants do.”
“You’re not supposed to. Kyla, we’re already dealing with one missing person because she was poking her nose into something she shouldn’t. I can’t worry about you, too!” Was she going to have to get handcuffs for these reckless independent young women who kept entering her life?
“I’m also not supposed to be left in the dark when it comes to my boss getting the rug pulled out from under her at work. You think I wasn’t already poking around after our clandestine meeting at the coffee shop the other night?” Kyla shoved a croissant across the counter. “Eat something before your bad mood wears off on me. And then maybe I’ll tell you and your bed buddy what I found out.”
* * *
If there was one thing Vince excelled at it was picking up on tension.
“You sicced her on Hobard?” Simone demanded when he headed to his duffel to pull on a clean shirt.
“I asked her to run a background check. Basic info.” He tugged on socks, then his shoes. “Nothing that would bring any attention to her.” Given how Simone had asked the question, he could only guess her assistant hadn’t exactly followed instructions. He looked at Kyla, who had her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “What else did you do?”
“She wormed her way into the server at the DA’s office and downloaded his passwords and account information.”
“I downloaded everyone’s,” Kyla corrected. “And I told you, all the assistants do it. It saves time when we have to request certain information.”
“And what if someone had caught you?” Simone demanded.
“I’d be out of a job, which I could be anyway if you don’t save this case.”
“I’ll agree with Simone that it wasn’t the best idea in the world,” Vince told her and avoided Simone’s laser-hot gaze. “And I’m assuming since Simone looks as if she’s about to blast off into orbit that you did it from your work computer.”
“If I’d accessed the information from home that would have sent up red flares,” Kyla told them. “I download all personnel information at least once a month. I hadn’t done it this month yet, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about until the psycho working in our office finds out about it.”
“We don’t know Hobard’s a psycho and stop getting ahead of yourself,” Vince said. “Here. Have some sugar.” He broke off a chunk of pastry and popped it into her open mouth. “You get cranky when you haven’t had any in a while.”
“I don’t appreciate you putting her at risk,” she mumbled and covered her mouth.
“At some point you’re going to have to accept you can’t protect everyone from everything, Simone. The sooner you stop trying, the happier you’ll be. So, Kyla.” He picked up the envelope and pulled out the papers. “Why don’t you give us a rundown on what you found.”
* * *
“I’m going to have to ask Eden to borrow her whiteboards.” Simone sank onto the sofa and curled her feet under her, nibbling on her second croissant in as many hours. If she wasn’t careful, by the time this case was over, she’d gain ten pounds. She pointed a finger to the list of businesses Cal Hobard had been affiliated with over the years, and drew a mental line to some of those same names Mara had linked Paul Denton to. “If I was looking at this objectively, I’d say it’s purely circumstantial,” she said and earned a frown of disappointment from her assistant. “It could be as simple as they shared the same banking representative or investment counselor. The law, government, can be incestuous. Everyone into something with everyone.”
“Not everything has to be proven in a court of law.” Vince circled another name, drew a line to another one on the paper attached to it. “Right now we’re looking for the smoking gun Mara found.”
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“Assuming she found one.” Kyla hitched her sandaled feet in the rungs of the barstool. “Did you also suggest someone might have provided her with information to lure her out?”
“That’s our worst-case scenario. Speaking of—” Simone checked her phone “—I haven’t gotten a call from the car manufacturer about the GPS warrant. Have you?”
“Jack said he’d let us know when it arrived,” Vince said. “Want me to give him a call?”
Simone shrugged. Vince went out on the balcony and left Kyla and Simone staring silently at the fruit of Kyla’s Saturday afternoon labor.
“I’m sorry I got upset with you,” Simone said. “I know you were only trying to help.”
“I don’t care that much about my job, Simone. Not if it means losing this case.”
“You might not care, but I do. I also care about your future and getting fired from the DA’s office right before you take the bar exam can tank your career plans.”
“Then I adjust my career plans.” Kyla turned admiring eyes on her. “You’ve never let anything or anyone get between you and what you want. Nothing interferes, not even him.”
“That’s not—” Simone began, but had to stop when she realized Kyla had struck a nerve. “Moving on, please.”
“Mara’s journal and notes—”
“Vince sent you copies of those, didn’t he?” Simone may as well surrender. It wouldn’t be the first time. She’d spent her life pushing everything aside to get to where she wanted to be career-wise. She’d accelerated her education, taken every opportunity offered, and, when push came to shove, she’d turned her back on her marriage and the man she thought she loved because it was easier than trying to find a balance. She pressed a hand against her sternum, forced herself to breathe. This must be what regret felt like. “Why doesn’t he tell me these things?”
Reunited with the P.I. Page 11
