I inch along the floor on bare feet, hoping that the second voice I heard is gone.
It’s not.
“Miss Owens is a lovely young woman, isn’t she, sir?”
Lester.I smile, knowing that the unexpected visitor is the doorman. He may be nosy, but the hallway is out of the view of the foyer, so there’s little chance he’ll see my panties and top.
“That she is,” Case answers brusquely.
“I do hope you’ll both enjoy the coffee.” Lester sighs. “I recall that you were a five cup a day fellow when you first moved in.”
“I’ve cut it down to one every twenty-four hours now,” Case answers.
“That’s good to hear.” Lester’s voice lowers a touch. “You’ve come a long way since that time. It’s good to see you looking well. I worried over you when you left the city so abruptly years ago.”
“I’m fine.” I hear the brush off in Case’s tone.
Whatever Lester is referring to, Case doesn’t want to talk about.
“Mr. Owens worried too,” Lester continues, oblivious to the obvious annoyance Case is feeling. “He told me you left without a thing. I remember him carting boxes of your clothing and other items out of here to donate.”
“My New York wardrobe didn’t fit in California.” Frustration taints Case’s words.
“Digging out of a hole as deep as the one you were in takes a great deal of strength, Mr. Abbott. You should be proud of yourself for that.”
“I should get ready for work,” Case counters. “I’m leaving for the office within the hour.”
I should be disappointed that Case has to leave soon, but curiosity has got a grip on me.
What happened all those years ago that caused Case to move across the country and leave everything behind?
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Case
I closethe door behind Lester, hoping to hell that he didn’t wake Emma with the incessant kick of his foot against my door.
With a coffee in each hand, he walked in and dragged my past into the light of day.
For fuck’s sake.
I don’t want to explain any of the shit that just poured out of his mouth to Emma. I wouldn’t know where to start.
I suck in a deep breath before I turn and start toward the bedroom.
When I round the corner and find her panties and tank top in the hallway right where she dropped them last night, relief washes over me.
I take that as a good sign.
Another few steps bring me to the doorway of my bedroom.
My shoulders tense again.
She’s awake.
Her back is to me as she gazes out the window. Her dark hair is a stark contrast to the white shirt she’s wearing.My shirt.
I’ve never liked it when a woman has helped herself to anything that belongs to me, but I want her to keep the shirt. It looks fucking fantastic on her.
