He Will be My Ruin
Page 35
Grady’s arm tightens around me, reminding me of the last time I was lying in this hammock with him. And that leaves me severely perplexed. A part of me—a big part—could easily allow that to happen again. If for nothing else but to help shake my discomfort.
When I got home from that disaster, I immediately climbed into a nice hot shower. I stood under that stream of water until all the old sweat from my panic attack dissolved. Unfortunately the dirty feeling from my moment of weakness didn’t wash away so easily.
There was no question that I was going to come up here tonight, regardless. I enjoy the peaceful space and the company, a damn deal more than I do sitting in Celine’s belongings. And I hoped that an hour with a guy who actually doesn’t make me feel vile—who I’m growing more and more fond of each day—would make the rest of my day fade away.
It hasn’t. And for now, I think I need a break from male companionship, under duress or otherwise.
“Should you maybe answer that?” he asks as my cell phone goes off for the third time.
I’ve already ignored two calls from Jace. This caller, though, is unknown, and I’m thinking it could be Doug.
I’m right.
“Hey, Doug.”
“I’m coming by tomorrow at nine a.m. for a site visit.”
Site visit. “Okay.”
“Great.” The phone clicks without another word and I shake my head.
“Who’s that?”
“A very strange little man.” I sigh. “There are a few loose ends about Celine that I want tied up before I leave. He’s going to help me with them.”
Grady frowns. “What is he . . . an investigator?”
“Yeah. That’s exactly what he is. Supposed to be good. I guess we’ll find out.”
“Huh. That’s cool.” The guy is always so even and relaxed. I’d say it might be because he’s always high, but I actually haven’t seen him smoke anything since that first night up here. “What’s he gonna do for you?”
“Just look into a few people. Dig a little into Celine’s past.”
He tosses the chestnut peels over me and into the fire. “How much does one of those guys cost? I’d think they’re expensive.”
Unless Ruby’s told Grady who I am, then I have to assume he has no idea whose thigh he’s pressing his erection against right now. I’d prefer to keep it that way. Yeah, in my emotional fit the other night, I told him that I have lots of money. But it’s still more than he can imagine. “I’ve given him a check. I guess he’ll keep working until I get my answers or I stop paying him, whichever comes first.”
His hand settles on my abdomen beneath the blanket. “I’m in the wrong racket.”
I place my hand on top of it and press down, stopping him just as his fingers attempt a slip under the waistband of my sweatpants. “You think you could make a good private eye?”
He coils his fingers around mine, like he’s gotten the hint. “No, probably not.” He smiles at me, his gaze drifting down to my lips. And then he kisses me so softly, as if he knows that’s what I need.
Frustration begins growing within my body. If I don’t leave now, I know exactly where this is going to lead again and I will hate myself for it, after what just happened in the elevator. I have an unwritten rule against two dicks in one day. It’s a new rule, because the opportunity has never arisen before, but it’s one I’m feeling committed to. “I think I need to get some sleep. Today has been overwhelming.”
I feel his mouth pull into a smile against mine. “Okay.” With one last kiss, he shifts back, relaxing his grip on me, making no move to leave his spot. Not until I’m near the gate does he call out, “Hey, I forgot to tell you. I have a potential renter for the apartment. She could take it by January first and the landlord will give you the last month’s rent back. Let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in.”
That would give me about three weeks to pack everything up and get it out before flying to San Diego for Christmas. I think I can manage that, but what about all of my unanswered questions? What will Doug have discovered by then? I guess I could always just stay at a hotel, if I need to fly back to New York again. “Can I let you know in a few days?”
“Of course. She wants to come by and see the place next weekend, if you’re up for it. But only if you’re up to it. No pressure, seriously.”
He really is a nice guy. “Thanks, Grady. Good night.”
CHAPTER 16
Maggie
December 5, 2015
“What’s that show called again?” Doug edges around the box of silver spoons I just finished wrapping.
“Antiques Roadshow?”
“No . . . Hoarders.” I trail him wordlessly as his eyes scan the space at lightning speed. “This is where it happened?” He points to the bed, digging out and opening a folder from the inside of his bomber jacket.
It’s not difficult to see over his shoulder. “How did you get a copy of Celine’s case?”
He slaps the cover shut before I can get a good look at the photocopied picture and sticks it back into its hiding place. “Chester had prints taken the night of. Nothing but hers turned up.”
“I’m surprised they bothered,” I grumble.
“The shitty ones don’t. They take one look at the body and start the suicide report. But Chester’s a good detective. He covered his bases.” He hops up onto the bed—his boots leaving prints on the bedding I just purchased—to fiddle with the locking mechanism on the window. He blows on it, and tiny wood shavings lift off, floating through the air. “This was replaced recently.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
He jumps down. “It means that someone replaced this recently. These old windows are notorious for being easy to break into.”
I feel my face pale. “Are you saying someone broke in?” Someone who may have stolen her diary? Someone who may have hurt her?
“No. I just always like to test locks for my clients.” He shrugs. “It’s New York City. You can never be too careful, especially when a fire escape leads to your apartment from an alleyway. It’s too easy to yank the ladder down to ground level if you know what you’re doing. I did a check of this building. The last reported break-in was twenty-two years ago, so I don’t think you should worry too much. But you should ask the super about it. Find out when it was fixed. I need Celine’s computer and those passwords. Can I use this?” Doug dips down to take one of the antique wood crates.
When I got home from that disaster, I immediately climbed into a nice hot shower. I stood under that stream of water until all the old sweat from my panic attack dissolved. Unfortunately the dirty feeling from my moment of weakness didn’t wash away so easily.
There was no question that I was going to come up here tonight, regardless. I enjoy the peaceful space and the company, a damn deal more than I do sitting in Celine’s belongings. And I hoped that an hour with a guy who actually doesn’t make me feel vile—who I’m growing more and more fond of each day—would make the rest of my day fade away.
It hasn’t. And for now, I think I need a break from male companionship, under duress or otherwise.
“Should you maybe answer that?” he asks as my cell phone goes off for the third time.
I’ve already ignored two calls from Jace. This caller, though, is unknown, and I’m thinking it could be Doug.
I’m right.
“Hey, Doug.”
“I’m coming by tomorrow at nine a.m. for a site visit.”
Site visit. “Okay.”
“Great.” The phone clicks without another word and I shake my head.
“Who’s that?”
“A very strange little man.” I sigh. “There are a few loose ends about Celine that I want tied up before I leave. He’s going to help me with them.”
Grady frowns. “What is he . . . an investigator?”
“Yeah. That’s exactly what he is. Supposed to be good. I guess we’ll find out.”
“Huh. That’s cool.” The guy is always so even and relaxed. I’d say it might be because he’s always high, but I actually haven’t seen him smoke anything since that first night up here. “What’s he gonna do for you?”
“Just look into a few people. Dig a little into Celine’s past.”
He tosses the chestnut peels over me and into the fire. “How much does one of those guys cost? I’d think they’re expensive.”
Unless Ruby’s told Grady who I am, then I have to assume he has no idea whose thigh he’s pressing his erection against right now. I’d prefer to keep it that way. Yeah, in my emotional fit the other night, I told him that I have lots of money. But it’s still more than he can imagine. “I’ve given him a check. I guess he’ll keep working until I get my answers or I stop paying him, whichever comes first.”
His hand settles on my abdomen beneath the blanket. “I’m in the wrong racket.”
I place my hand on top of it and press down, stopping him just as his fingers attempt a slip under the waistband of my sweatpants. “You think you could make a good private eye?”
He coils his fingers around mine, like he’s gotten the hint. “No, probably not.” He smiles at me, his gaze drifting down to my lips. And then he kisses me so softly, as if he knows that’s what I need.
Frustration begins growing within my body. If I don’t leave now, I know exactly where this is going to lead again and I will hate myself for it, after what just happened in the elevator. I have an unwritten rule against two dicks in one day. It’s a new rule, because the opportunity has never arisen before, but it’s one I’m feeling committed to. “I think I need to get some sleep. Today has been overwhelming.”
I feel his mouth pull into a smile against mine. “Okay.” With one last kiss, he shifts back, relaxing his grip on me, making no move to leave his spot. Not until I’m near the gate does he call out, “Hey, I forgot to tell you. I have a potential renter for the apartment. She could take it by January first and the landlord will give you the last month’s rent back. Let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in.”
That would give me about three weeks to pack everything up and get it out before flying to San Diego for Christmas. I think I can manage that, but what about all of my unanswered questions? What will Doug have discovered by then? I guess I could always just stay at a hotel, if I need to fly back to New York again. “Can I let you know in a few days?”
“Of course. She wants to come by and see the place next weekend, if you’re up for it. But only if you’re up to it. No pressure, seriously.”
He really is a nice guy. “Thanks, Grady. Good night.”
CHAPTER 16
Maggie
December 5, 2015
“What’s that show called again?” Doug edges around the box of silver spoons I just finished wrapping.
“Antiques Roadshow?”
“No . . . Hoarders.” I trail him wordlessly as his eyes scan the space at lightning speed. “This is where it happened?” He points to the bed, digging out and opening a folder from the inside of his bomber jacket.
It’s not difficult to see over his shoulder. “How did you get a copy of Celine’s case?”
He slaps the cover shut before I can get a good look at the photocopied picture and sticks it back into its hiding place. “Chester had prints taken the night of. Nothing but hers turned up.”
“I’m surprised they bothered,” I grumble.
“The shitty ones don’t. They take one look at the body and start the suicide report. But Chester’s a good detective. He covered his bases.” He hops up onto the bed—his boots leaving prints on the bedding I just purchased—to fiddle with the locking mechanism on the window. He blows on it, and tiny wood shavings lift off, floating through the air. “This was replaced recently.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
He jumps down. “It means that someone replaced this recently. These old windows are notorious for being easy to break into.”
I feel my face pale. “Are you saying someone broke in?” Someone who may have stolen her diary? Someone who may have hurt her?
“No. I just always like to test locks for my clients.” He shrugs. “It’s New York City. You can never be too careful, especially when a fire escape leads to your apartment from an alleyway. It’s too easy to yank the ladder down to ground level if you know what you’re doing. I did a check of this building. The last reported break-in was twenty-two years ago, so I don’t think you should worry too much. But you should ask the super about it. Find out when it was fixed. I need Celine’s computer and those passwords. Can I use this?” Doug dips down to take one of the antique wood crates.
