A relief because the finished cottage only had one bedroom, and although there was a sleeper sofa, they’d only put that in for kids. The other guest rooms were in Nolan’s home. His sanctuary. And Jerry didn’t fuck quietly.
“No, I’m only staying long enough to deliver Alexa and Chase.”
So Chase was staying? Great.
No, really.
He could act as a buffer between Nolan and Alexa.
“How long do you think it will take her to fix the laptop?”
“Do I look like a geek?”
Not one bit. Jerry reminded Nolan of a young Elizabeth Taylor, but with the energy of a Bond villain.
“You don’t,” he conceded. “So, what are you up to these days?”
“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
Was she joking? With Jerry, Nolan figured there was a fifty-fifty chance. She’d joined the Army after they left Blackstone House, and then he’d lost track of her. Ruby’s murder had forced their once close-knit group apart.
“Don’t you think that joke’s in bad taste?”
She blew out a sigh. “Probably.”
The irony was, if Nolan had to pick the one former roommate he could see committing a murder, it would be Jerry. She had a disturbing ability to remain detached. But she hadn’t killed Ruby, because Ruby hadn’t just been stabbed and strangled, she’d been raped as well.
“Less chat, more caffeine,” Alexa called, and Jerry snorted.
“You’ve been summoned, bud. Good luck.”
Nolan would need it.
CHAPTER 4
ALEXA
“Damn, he’s hot. Those old pictures in no way do him justice.”
Chase stared at Nolan’s departing ass until I dragged him into the guest cottage.
“Stop it. We’re here to work and then leave, not ogle real-life thirst traps.”
“So you admit he’s a thirst trap?”
“I admit nothing. And he’s straight, so you’re out of luck. I mean, probably. He seems to be dating that uptight brunette with the driftwood. Why the fuck are there so many pillows? Can you get rid of them? They’re annoying me already.”
“Are you annoyed because you hate pillows? Or because you hate the idea of Nolan having a girlfriend?”
“The first one.” Mostly. “Nobody needs more than two pillows on a bed. The rest just get in the way.”
“Speaking of beds, where am I supposed to sleep? Are we sharing, or…?” Chase lifted a cushion on the couch in the living area. “Okay, this is a pull-out.”
As bed-buddies went, Chase wasn’t a terrible one. He didn’t snore or spread, but he did give off heat like a furnace, which was fine in colder climates but unnecessary in California. For the most part, we booked two-room suites when we travelled.
Our relationship hadn’t always been so easy. When I first hired him, Chase had slept in a separate room along the hallway and adhered to a strict list of instructions. Source breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Ensure laundry is done. Arrange transportation to each of our destinations. Sit by my side in public, and if anyone approaches, get rid of them. But over the years, he’d earned my trust and become more of a friend than an assistant, and we acted far more casual around each other now.
My biggest fear? Other than dogs, knife-wielding maniacs, and earthquakes? That Chase would get sick of our life together and leave me. That I’d be alone again. Yes, I had Jez and the girls, but they had their own commitments, and none of them would drop everything to eat macarons in Paris with me.
