“Order the food. I’ll pay for it when I pick it up.”
She nodded again.
Holt tapped her chin. “I love you, Bailey. That won’t change in the next few minutes.”
She forced a smile, hoping that was true.
***
It hadn’t occurred to Holt that Rafehadn’t come into the B and B once since he arrived nearly three weeks ago. Based on the brochure, the place was owned by both Sharpe brothers but managed by Rex and his husband, Jack. And Bailey, but she was a new hire, so the brochure was a bit out of date.
He didn’t need to be a genius to know that Rafe’s absence was related to the traumatic events that had taken place in the house. Not only the deaths of his mother and father but also the abuse Rafe had suffered. Not that Rafe had gone into great detail when he’d told Holt the story back when they’d first started hanging out, but he’d told him enough. And research had filled in a lot more of the blanks for Holt. He’d even seen pictures in archived articles of what the house had looked like previously, both inside and out. He had to admit Rex had done an impressive job converting it into an inviting space. If Holt hadn’t known it was the same house, he would’ve been hard-pressed to tie them together.
Could a man really avoid something like that forever? Would it benefit Rafe to come inside and see that it didn’t hold the ghosts of his past?
Holt wasn’t a shrink, so he honestly didn’t know. But he was a man who wanted to make the woman he loved happy, which was why he’d offered to find Rafe and drag him back if he had to.
Not that he would, but he wasn’t above putting a guilt trip on the man. After all, Bailey was worth it, and he had no doubt that Rafe realized that.
Since Holt had seen Rafe come down the stairs at the end of the building, he figured that was the way to get to the apartment above. He learned he was right when he came to the second door on the second floor. The first had a sign that read: REALESTATEOFFICE. USEFRONTDOOR. The second door had the numerical address with the letter B.
He knocked on the door and took a step back, leaning against the iron railing that lined the top floor walkway. A moment later, the door opened. Rafe appeared briefly, then disappeared back into the apartment. Holt took that as an invitation to come in, so he did. Closing the door behind him, he scanned the space. It was nicer than he imagined it to be. For some reason, he’d pictured an overflow storage area with a cot in the middle where Rafe laid his head at night. But it was an actual apartment, complete with gray wood-plank flooring, light gray walls, and a few pictures that he was positive Rafe hadn’t put up. Probably Rex since they were very similar to the decor at the B and B.
As for the furniture, it left a lot to be desired. Rafe obviously didn’t have people over often because there weren’t many options in seating, only a recliner in what served as the living room. The kitchen didn’t appear large enough to cook a meal in, but it had a rolling island that doubled the prep area. There were two other doors in the space, one that looked like a bathroom, the other, he figured, led to the bedroom.
“Bailey’s waiting for us,” Holt told him. “She’s calling in an order at the diner. I told her I’d drag you back by the hair if I have to.”
He could almost see the beginning of a smile on Rafe’s face. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Never underestimate a man simply because he spends his days with fictional characters.”
This time Rafe smiled but didn’t move to the door. Good thing Holt hadn’t expected this to be simple.
“I thought for sure the next time I saw you I’d have your fist in my face,” Rafe said, leaning against the small island.
“Don’t count it out just yet,” Holt said, checking out the view of the park through the wood-framed windows.
“She told you?”
Holt peered back over his shoulder. “She didn’t have to. I knew where she was going.” He shrugged his shoulder. “I knew what would happen.”
“You claim to love her, but you let her come here knowin’ I would fuck her.”
“First of all, I didn’tlether do anything. Bailey’s not mine to command. The two of you needed to work this out.”
“And Ifuckedher,” Rafe said, obviously intent on pissing Holt off.
Holt didn’t dignify it with a response.
“And you don’t want to punch me in the face?”
“Of course I do. But not for that.” Holt turned around to face Rafe. “I’d like to because she’s over there waiting for you, twisted up in knots because you gave her an ultimatum, and she doesn’t want to choose.”
“An ultimatum? Is that what she said?”
“No,” Holt clarified. “I deduced it based on how upset she was.”
“It wasn’t an ultimatum. It was an assumption.”
