He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was thinking about that last night. I have to be in Leominster on Thursday and Friday, but I could almost commute from here.” He took a fast breath. “Unless you’d rather have the house to yourself again. I’ll understand, Lauren. It’s okay, really it is—Hey, crumpled napkins in the face I can do without first thing in the morning!”
“Then don’t give me that little-boy pout,” she chided as she carried their plates to the sink. But when she returned to the table, she gave him a hug from behind. “Of course I want you here,” she murmured with her cheek pressed to his. “For as long as you can stay. Besides, youdoowe it to me.”
His hands clasped hers at the open collar of his shirt. “I do?”
“Uh-huh. You’ve awakened me to some of the finer points in life. Seems to me there’s got to be an awful lot I still don’t know.”
“Then youareafter my body! I knew it all along!”
“Could be,” she answered with a grin. “Could be.”
During the next few days, Lauren and Matt spent every possible minute with each other. They drove to and from Boston together. They met for lunch each day. When Matt wasn’t working but Lauren was, he was parked so frequently on the bench outside the shop that Beth suggested they charge him rent.
“Either that, or hire him part-time.”
Lauren wrinkled her nose. “After all we went through to convince Jamie to start full-time next week? No way. Besides, what does Matt know about art?”
“What does he know aboutotherthings?” Beth drawled suggestively. “That’s whatIwant to know.”
“Oh, quite a bit” was all Lauren would admit. She knew Beth was fishing. She hadn’t made a secret of the fact that Matt was staying with her in Lincoln. But some things were sacred, not to be discussed with even the closest of friends, and for more than the obvious reasons. Lauren felt she was living a fairy tale. By her own admission, Beth was envious. The last thing Lauren wanted to do was to rub it in.
“Well,” Beth said with a sigh, “at least he’s managed to keep you safe.”
“That he has.”
Since Matt had been with her, there’d been no accidents, no close calls, no questionable occurrences. Indeed, Lauren felt safe enough almost to forget there was a problem.
Almost, but not quite.
Tuesday evening she asked Matt if he’d made any calls to those “people who may have more insight than we do.” He said he had and that the ball was rolling. His tone was light. She hadn’t dared ask more.
Wednesday evening, though, she couldn’t help herself. As gently as she could, she inquired about it again.
“Have you heard anything yet?”
“No. It takes time.”
“Time to do what? I don’t understand.”
“Questions can be asked, people consulted. Trust me, Lauren. Please?” Put that way, with an eruption of tension dissolving abruptly into beseechfulness, she’d surrendered.
But much as she tried, she couldn’t shake the conviction that the things she’d experienced were linked and that, despite Matt’s protective shield, they were bound to resume at some point. And she was frightened.
Thursday morning Matt crawled out of bed at dawn, showered, shaved and dressed, then woke Lauren to say goodbye. She was groggy. It had been another late night of sweet, prolonged loving. Only the realization that Matt was leaving brought her from her self-satisfied stupor.
“You should have wakened me sooner,” she whispered, reaching up to touch his freshly shaved cheek. “I’d have made you breakfast.”
“No time. They’ll have coffee and doughnuts there.”
“I wish you didn’t have to go.”
“I’ll be back tonight.”
“I know, but I’ve been spoiled. Leominster seems so far away.”
He sighed. “I agree.” He pressed his lips together, then forced a smile. “You take care of yourself, sweetheart, you hear? Drive carefully, and be sure to lock the doors.”
“I will.”
