"Yeah," Hugo answers, eating a quarter of his sandwich in one bite.
"You had a weird look on your face when I walked in." Has he changed his mind about letting me stay here? That must be it. He's second-guessing our proximity, the way we've been steadily getting closer every day since I arrived. "Are you thinking we should put some professional distance between us? I get it. I'm here to maybe connect and possibly solve our loved ones' murders. Not be your roomie."
Maybe. Possibly.I hate the way these words come with caveats. Just the sound of them has me envisioning a person opening their mouth and raising one finger in the air, as if they're reminding me none of this is concrete. Itcould all be for nothing, and I'll have to figure out another way to forgive myself, and face raising my child in a world where my sister's murderer roams free.
Hugo finishes chewing his bite, takes a sip of his water, and wipes his hands with a napkin he pulls from his back pocket. Then he places the napkin on a side table and lays the remaining sandwich on it.
He walks closer, eyes on me. Stops directly in front of me. He's close enough I smell his bodywash, or maybe it's deodorant, or hell, maybe it's simplyhim. Between that scent and the way he's looking at me, my toes are curling, pressing into my shoes to keep me from swaying.
"Mallory." Hugo wears a look of utter seriousness. "It seems you need to keep hearing me say this, so I'll do it again.I want you to stay here. I promise you, I have never invited a person into my home who I did not want to be there."
My teeth strum my bottom lip as his words work over me. Words are nice and all, but action says so much more. Dylan gave me words, and when it came to facing the reality of the life we made, he couldn't run away fast enough.
But last night, Hugo raced to me. Wrapped me in his arms and took me from the inn and whatever danger may have still been lurking. He caught me when I fainted. What more do I need? He's spoken, and he's shown.
"Alright," I nod. "You had a look on your face when I walked in, and I guess I'm defensive. It's not easy being a pregnant woman, staring down the reality of becoming a single mom in only a handful of months."
A muscle along Hugo's jaw tics. "Mallory, you can keep your fists in fighting stance against the rest of the world, but when it comes to me, you'll have no need." He reaches for my hand, wraps it in his. The scrape of a callus has my breath quickening. "You're here to work, and my compliance, and even my participation, makes that easier for you. And maybe I'm one-sided here, and if I am, that's ok, but this doesn't feel like it's only a working relationship. It feels like maybe we're..." He struggles to find the right word, and his thumb rubs over the top of my fingers. "Friends?"
My heart is busy melting over his words, and that spot below my navel is busy distracting me. If his thumb weren't running circles over my hand, I could focus.
"Friends," I manage to say. "Definitely."
Chapter 25
Hugo
Friends.
Seriously?
I friend-zoned myself.
May as well kick my own ass while I'm at it.
Chapter 26
Hugo
Mallory,myfriend, sits a foot from me. The car window is down, the wind swirling those dark locks around her face. Her brows are furrowed, her cheekbones taut. I wonder if she realizes she is chewing the side of her bottom lip. Is she thinking about what happened to her last night? I know I haven't been able to go more than a few minutes without having it invade my mind. Not only the events, but the possibilities.
The second I sat my ass in the desk chair at the Summerhill on-site office, I called Penn. He was huffing and puffing when he answered my call, out on a run with Slim Jim, his Belgian Malinois. Penn lives closer to town, and closer to the Olive Inn. For Daisy's safety, I wanted him to know what happened to Mallory. I also called Vivi, made sure she knew.
Penn, being the person he is, suggested he pay Braxton a visit. "If it wasn't him, he would have seen somebody walking through that lobby."
I told him Mallory is trying for as little disruption to the town as possible, and he had some choice words for her decision. "I'm not making any promises. If I see that fucker so much as sneeze near Daisy, it's on." I can't deny him that, especially when it's exactly what I want to do.
"What are you thinking about over there?" I ask Mallory.
"Last night," she answers, her eyes finding mine. We share a long look before I redirect my gaze to the road. The look may have only lasted a few seconds, but I saw fire in her eyes.
"What about it?" I ask, a tightness to my tone. My fingers curl on the steering wheel, the same way they did early this morning when the event was fresh. Mallory isn't the only one furious at the idea of her and Peanut being encroached upon.
"Too many emotions to name, honestly. And I have thoughts... many thoughts. Namely, what if whoever did this isn't simply a perv looking to—" she cuts off, grimacing. "I don't want to finish that sentence. What if someone's sending me a message?"
A message? I hadn't considered that. My thoughts started and ended with a sicko.
"What kind of message?"
