If Kalinski didn’t have a truck or an SUV, he’d be riding with me. I couldn’t decide if I was delighted or irate at the idea of him being entirely dependent on me, at least for the evening.
Another ten minutes went by while I flexed my gloved hands against the cold and contemplated going inside to round up my unasked-for house guest, but just before I’d worked up enough irritation to do it, Kalinski struggled along the sidewalk toward the lot with suits in one hand and a bag slung over his shoulder. I twitched with the urge to go help him. Instead of being a Good Samaritan, I studied the way he staggered, unbalanced, without trying to adjust the weight of things so it would be easier for him to walk. He seemed to be counting the numbers of hangers he had on his hand, or at least he was staring at them very intently, then his foot went flying out from under him and he yelped. I bit my lip as he toppled backward onto his ass and the suits went sailing into the air.
He so clearly needed my help right now.
Maybe in more ways than one.
My stomach flooded warm and I could have slapped myself. What the fuck had I been thinking, involving myself in his personal life? He dragged himself to his feet again, brushed off his clothing, and then slowly collected his suits. I stopped myself from moving toward him, and soon enough he closed in on me. There, in his eyes, was what had hooked me earlier: pure desperation.
Normally he was angry and blustering, but now he seemed hurt and lost, and that fucking got me every time. My need to take care of people was half the reason I hadn’t moved on from Vane’s office, even though I was qualified at my position and could have probably found a better-paying private-sector job. Vane needed someone to keep his life together, and every now and then he looked at me with that same fear haunting his eyes and would ask, “JP, are you leaving this year?”
I stayed. Never once had it crossed my mind to go. Probably, I always would work for Vane, even if it meant an eventual move to Washington, DC.
And right now Kalinski needed someone to help him… and damned if I wasn’t the idiot standing here beside my SUV in a snowstorm. At some point while I was waiting in the freezing cold, I’d decided to get to the bottom of this Kalinski problem—one way or another.
Sighing at myself, I opened the passenger door and gestured. “Get in.”
He stilled and stared all around himself, as if confused. “I’m not sure where my car is.”
“That’s fine, because I told you to get in.” I wiggled the door back and forth in emphasis.
“I shouldn’t leave mine here.”
“Why?”
He opened his mouth, flushed, and then closed it. “Because. It’s not…. I mean….”
“Staggering powers of persuasion. Get in my Rover. I won’t ask again.” I didn’t mean to sound quite so stern, but my voice slipped low, and an excited spot burned like a live wire in my gut. What would I do if he disobeyed me?
He seemed to be thinking the same thing because his eyes widened. I opened the back door, and he went to sit there, but I put a hand on his chest and snagged his suits from him, carefully hanging them on the hook inside. He tossed the duffel bag on the back seat.
“Don’t you need a laptop?” I asked, not seeing one go in. “I thought you had online classes?”
The noise he let out was almost feral as he tensed stiffer than a board, swinging around to look at his things again. He dropped his face into his hands.
“Shit. I forgot it. I can’t go back.”
Sighing, I slammed the door. Something that important, I’d have thought he wouldn’t be able to leave it lying around. My little project for Vane—Kalinski—was turning into homework, not something I’d counted on.
“You’re a wreck everywhere you go, aren’t you?” I drawled.
“I do everything you tell me to do at the office,” he snapped. “I’m not anything except a hard worker there.” His lips thinned, and I was struck by how very important it seemed to be that I believe him. The wind gusted through the parking lot, whipping snow into small dervishes that were both beautiful and dangerous, and as the sharp bite of cold hit him, he shivered.
Tilting my head back, I stared pointedly at the front passenger seat. “You’re not working hard to listen to me at the moment, are you?”
He dragged his coat closer around his shoulders and stepped up into the SUV, letting out a nearly silent whimper as he settled back onto the heated leather, and I sighed at the zap of pleasure that swamped me. This was familiar territory, taking care of someone, and a nostalgic pang had me clamping down on my ridiculousness.
“Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”
He shook his head and stared at his knees. Normally I didn’t get upset with his crap, mostly because I was doing my best to piss him off, but for some reason tonight, everything he did was getting to me.
“Maxwell, you will answer me with words.”
“M’fine,” he mumbled. His ears were red, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold, embarrassment, or something else. I closed the door and walked around to get in. The interior really was bliss after standing around outside. Reaching his hands toward the vents in front of him, he slowly unfurled like a flower. The tension bled out of his face and left me with a handsome boy, who actually managed to appear grateful, even if he didn’t say as much.
Kalinski glanced at me and I got a wisp of a smile from him. Without a word, he copied me as I snapped my seat belt together, and I took a deep breath before I reversed out of my spot. The Land Rover was large, specifically built for hazards like the New Gothenburg winter, so I hadn’t expected any trouble from the snow, but as I crept the Rover forward from the parking lot onto the street, the wheel played in my hand. The asphalt was slippery. I took a deep, steadying breath as I touched the brake and skidded toward the stop sign down the block. The person in front of me started going, thankfully, or I might have rear-ended them. My heart jackhammered as I came to a halt with the Rover’s bumper in the intersection.
“Why did you help—”
