She catches it one-handed, still sprawled naked across the sheets, hair an unruly mess, and the skin on her chest still pink from my stubble. She looks thoroughly ravished and utterly beautiful, and I would do it all over again immediately if I didn’t think she was sore and tired.
"I thought we weren't doing any of that, Whiskey."
Maybe she’s teasing, but I stop and meet her eye, needing her to see I’m deadly serious.
"Maybeyoudidn’t. But I never agreed to that. In fact, I remember distinctly telling you that I wanted more.” I head for the bathroom, calling out, "Anyway, that was before."
“Before?” she repeats, like she’s processing that there’s now a before and an after from this hotel room for us. We both know this isn’t normal, and I’m not letting her slip through my fingers by playing games.
I stick my head back out and give her a wink.
Her laugh follows me through the door. "So cocky."
"Tell me I'm wrong." I hold my breath.
Please don’t tell me I’m wrong.
She meets my eye but doesn't deny it. She knows this is worth exploring.
Feeling smug and more than a little excited at the positive beginning to my fresh start, I take my time cleaning myself up, splashing water on my face and trying to get my head on straight. This woman is special. She might bereallyspecial. I have to get this right.
Except when I come back out to do just that, to make sure she never wants to leave my side again, everything has changed.
The mood in the room has darkened, and Red's sitting up in bed, the sheet now pulled to her chin, with my phone clutched in her hand. Her expression has gone cold and closed, the easy warmth from moments ago, completely extinguished.
"Who exactly are you?"
2
BEAU
“Beau Lennox.”
The second I say my name, she flinches, visibly recoils, and closes her eyes with a tiny shake of her head. That wasn’t the name she wanted to hear.
"What’s going on, Red?" I stop midway across the room. I was going to sit beside her but from the way she scurries up the mattress, putting her back to the headboard, it’s clear I’m not welcome anywhere near her right now.
She turns the phone toward me and holds it out at arm’s length. The screen shows a text about a skip trace I was working on last week, and a lead on a case file I’ve been reviewing on a high-profile bail jumper. That’s not really my thing anymore, but the money on that one was good enough to tempt me into taking a look.
"And you're a bounty hunter." There’s more than a hint of judgement in her tone that I choose to ignore for now.
"Sometimes."
Deciding I should be dressed for the bad turn this evening seems to have taken, I reach for my boxers and jeans. The easy intimacy of seconds ago has soured fast, and whateverconversation is about to happen, for posterity’s sake, it might be best if I didn’t have my junk out.
“Is that a problem?” I keep my body language relaxed despite the dread I feel inside. I’m obviously missing something here, and it’s clearly not something good.
She laughs, but there's no humour in it this time. In fact, it’s positively icy. "And you, of all people, just happened to be at this bar tonight.” She scoffs. “It's a complete coincidence, is it?"
“I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe in fate,” I say calmly, but the twist of her lips tells me she’s not in the mood for that debate right now. "And I just happened to be atthisbar because I'm staying inthishotel. And I’m staying inthishotel because it’s right next to my work." Unease trickles down my spine as I straighten. "What exactly are you accusing me of? Did you skip bail or do something naughty, Red?"
My attempt at lightening the mood falls flat.
She reaches for her purse and, shoulders slumped, pulls out her badge.
"I'm a detective. This bail jumper was my case." A massive sigh. “And so was your father’s.” She's out of bed now, snatching her clothes up from the floor and clutching them to her chest. "You expect me to believe you didn't know that?”
Our conversation at the bar makes more sense now, and I replay it again in my mind, seeing her words in a new light.
