Chapter 15
Amy woke from sleep keenly aware of the ache in her heart. An ache that hadn’t faded since her conversation with Jace earlier that week.
She stared at the sunlight pouring in through her slanted blinds, willing it to work its magic over her, to breathe some degree of hope into her heart.
Three days had passed since that horrible evening, and they hadn’t made a scrap of progress where their relationship was concerned. Or perhapsthiswas the new state of their relationship; the two stuck at a stalemate. No moving forward. No moving back. Amy hated the way things were, but she wasn’t sure how to fix them without risking getting her heart crushed.
As far as the case was concerned, things were at a standstill there too. No other local pictures had appeared on the site, and none of the background checks had raised a brow of suspicion. The lack of development gave off the odd sense that perhaps Amy wasn’t really in danger after all.
Of course, that didn’t mean she wasn’t afraid. Yesterday, after shooting theAverage Amysegment on assisted rock climbing, she and Jace had gone to the studio. While she signed documents regarding her new advertising contracts, Jace made a list of the businesses that had expressed an interest in her. Just looking at that list, knowing there could be a very dark purpose behind someone’sinterestin her, sent Amy into panic mode.
Jace had pulled her into his arms like any goodfriendwould, and rubbed her back while insisting he would discover any connection between the ring and her new jobs, if one existed. Either way, he would keep her safe, he assured.
Yeah. While keeping her at asafedistance.
Amy groaned as she forced herself out of bed. She gave in to a yawn and stumbled into the bathroom, wondering if Jace was still asleep.
He wasn’t, it appeared, by the placement of his toothbrush; she’d come to learn that he rested it flat on the porcelain sink at night after he brushed. And in the morning, he’d use it once more before tucking it back into the cup for the day, where Amy’s brush stood.
She pictured him sitting at the dining room table, his usual spread of papers lying beside his laptop. Once she was done brushing, Amy let her gaze fall to thehis and herstoothbrushes in the cup. She liked how they looked together. Liked having him there, but who was she fooling? Jace wasn’t there because the two were madly in love, pursuing some healthy, happy relationship. Jace was getting paid to stay there and protect her.
Amy held her reflection in the mirror.Way to slap yourself into reality, Amy.She rolled her eyes, determined to keep her emotions in check. She’d told herself, several times, that the chemistry between them hadn’t changed.
She’d used Jace’s body language to prove it. The way he nudged her arm at the auto parts shop, or stood close while he refilled his mug in the morning, the smell of his cologne rivaling the fresh brew.
But the truth was, she had no idea where his head was. She was tempted to tear into the kitchen and ask him.Do you feel anything for me or don’t you? Just tell me so I can deal with it and move on with my life.
She got dressed for the day, slipping into a pair of jeans and a loose, light knit sweater, recalling the way she’d almost kissed him in her dreams for the last three nights in a row. He’d come in close—so close—only to stop, let go of her waist, and step away. Talk about getting what she asked for. If she’d have known putting things on pause would torment her as much as the physical danger she was in, Amy would have never spoken up.
Stop torturing yourself, Amy. If Jace really wanted to do something about it, he would.
Amy swooped her hair into a ponytail, spread her favorite lotion over her neck, chest, and forearms, then rubbed the remainder into her hands. By the time she stepped into the kitchen, she’d forgotten the image she’d expected to see at the table. But there it was: Jace seated behind his laptop, busily scratching words onto a sheet of paper. One of many.
“Hi,” she said.Polite. That’s what she’d focus on. Being polite.
“Good morning,” he said, scooting his chair from the table. He pointed at a spot on the counter. “I got a mug out for you. The spoon you like is right next to it there. See?”
She held his gaze for a moment, too distracted to look down and verify. “There’s a spoon I like?”
He shrugged. “All your spoons are the same, except for that one with the little pink rose. You always fish through the drawer for that one, so…” He shrugged once more and sank back into his chair.
“Huh. Thanks.” He was right, now that she thought about it. She told herself not to get all gushy over the gesture, but her heart missed the memo. It was swimming in all sorts of mushy feelings for him. She wiggled the coffee pot from its base and filled the mug he’d set out, diner white with blue stripes —another favorite of hers. As she stirred, her cheeks warming from his thoughtful gesture, she glanced up to catch him looking at her through his lashes. Chin down. Pen stilled.
“Sorry,” he said before forcing his eyes back on the page. But the pen didn’t move.
“Everything okay?” She lifted a brow as she brought the steaming mug to her lips.
“Yeah, it’s fine.” He scribbled a few things on the page, then set the pen down and looked back to her. “That color just looks really good on you.”
There was no use even trying to fight the grin at her lips. She glanced down in reflex, already knowing that her sweater was light pink. “It does?”Stop it, heart.
He gulped. Nodded. “It does.”
“Thank you.”
Jace picked up the pen once more and set the tip on the page. “I think we should say it’s off limits.”
Amy’s brow furrowed. “Thatwhat’soff limits?”
