She sighed, too tired to solve that puzzle, and shuffled toward the kitchen in search of more hot coffee. As much as she wanted to sleep, she could use a little more java to ward off the chill that wanted to settle into her bones again.
In the living room, Scott sat with his back to her on the other side of the dining table, slouched down so his head rested against the top of the chair. The rest of the apartment appeared empty.
“Did Dan and Tara leave already?” she asked, simultaneously nervous and elated to be alone with him. “I wanted to thank them again.”
She stopped in her tracks, her insides frosting over as Tara rose from the space in front of Scott on the far side of the chair.
Scott glanced over his shoulder as Valerie entered the room, happy for the distraction from his leg. “Dan left a few minutes ago. He’s still in the honeymoon phase of his marriage, so I kicked him out.”
Valerie was breathtaking with her dark-gold hair hanging straight past her shoulders, wearing a red top and candy-cane-striped lounge pants. The color had returned to her cheeks, but her back was stiff and her fists were clenched, and Scott realized how Tara’s sudden appearance must have looked.
Steele’s business manager extraordinaire stood and cradled a small bundle of bloody gauze and wrappers, wrinkling her nose as she gestured with it. “I should have brought a bio bag.” She noticed Valerie and smiled. “Dan said you did a good job fixing him up,” she nodded toward Scott, “but the wound needed a few stitches. Luckily the man travels with a fully stocked medical kit. You feeling better?” she asked, striding into the kitchen on soft-soled sneakers.
Valerie caught his eye and her face flushed. “Yes.” She cleared her throat and relaxed her hands. “So much.” Looking at Tara, she smiled. “You thought of everything. I can’t thank you enough.”
Tara peeled latex gloves from her hands and dumped them with the other waste into the trash can. “No problem.” She shrugged. “This is what I do.”
It was true. Tara made sure the guys had whatever they needed to get the job done, often anticipating their needs before they did. And she somehow did it while looking like she’d just stepped out of a photo shoot. He’d never seen her in anything but a dress and heels, hair perfect. She looked different tonight, still beautiful, but more approachable in a sweatshirt and yoga pants with her hair pulled into a messy pile on top of her head. And yet, he only cared that Valerie was in the room.
Beautiful in her own way—in every way, as far as he was concerned—shewas the one he wanted. The one who drew his attention no matter where she was. Her presence in the apartment was undeniable, even when she was in a different room. He was starting to crave having her nearby.
That was going to fuck him up in the end.
“I made more coffee,” Tara said. “Scott knows how to work the alarm and the WiFi, and there’s food in the cupboards and fridge.” She snagged a light-blue purse from the counter and retrieved her car keys. “Do you need anything else right now?”
Valerie shook her head. “No, this is wonderful.”
Scott rose from his chair, tugging down the fabric of his zipped-off pants to cover his thigh. He’d gone from hiding his scars from everyone for the last two years, to revealing them to three people in one day. How was that for ripping off the figurative Band-Aid? “I have the burner phone,” he said. “I’ll call if we need anything.”
Tara hugged Valerie. “Get some rest.”
Valerie laughed nervously, giving Scott an uncomfortable look.
On her way out, Tara repeated the gesture with Scott and whispered, “Good luck.”
He locked the door behind her and set the alarm.
Alone with Valerie.
He turned to face her and she frowned. “So, stitches. How’s your leg?”
“Dan gave me a local, so it feels pretty good right now.” He hobbled toward the kitchen holding the detached bottom of his pants leg. “This is nothing compared to last time.”
She nodded and bit her lip, turning away to pour a cup of coffee. “You hungry?”
“Not really.”
“Me either.” She sighed, holding the mug with both hands, rubbing her thumb over the handle.
As he passed, she reached out to stop him, but was too far away to touch. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
“For convincing you to trust Alan.” She stared into her drink. “For putting you in danger.”
“It’s not your fault. You had every reason to trust him.”
She pursed her lips and nodded, her drooping shoulders and downcast gaze the picture of defeat. First her boss, then Jay, now Alan. Without Scott and Steele, she had nobody left on her side.
