Hot Secrets
Page 23
Chapter Eight
Lauren woke to the phone ringing. Blinking, she eased up on her elbow, realizing she was still on the couch and the light streaming through her blinds said it was already Sunday morning. She glanced down to find the blanket from her bed on top of her. Any pleasure at knowing Royce had done something so thoughtful, so intimate, faded with the incessant ringing demanding her attention.
Behind her, she heard the phone lift, her home phone, and reality hit her. It was her caller again, her... stalker. She hated that word but that’s what this was starting to feel like. She sat up straight, her breath lodged in her throat. The next few seconds felt like eternity, as she waited to see what would happen, but there was only silence, until Royce hung up the receiver. Almost instantly, as if he’d already had someone on the line, he spoke into his cell phone, or so she assumed, “Yeah I know,” he said in a low voice. “Too short to trace. And yeah, whoever it is has to know I’m here since they knew she was with me last night. And yeah, I know what that means.” He ended the call without a goodbye. She sensed rather than heard him heading in her direction.
Lauren’s fingers curled into the blanket as she waited for him to join her. “I woke you up,” he said, rounding the couch to sit down next to her. “Sorry about that.”
“I heard the phone ring,” she said, turning to him, aware of him as a man despite her distress, aware of how their legs melded together, of his smell, spicy and male, both arousing and comforting. “And I heard you say that whoever the caller was knows that you’re here and ‘yeah you know what that means’. What does that mean?”
“I should have stepped into the hall,” he said. “You didn’t need to hear that.
“Yes, I did. I don’t want to be coddled, Royce. I want to know what I’m dealing with.”
He considered her a moment, and then nodded. “Fair enough. No coddling.” He reached up and brushed hair from her eyes. “The call was a taunt that was, in my professional opinion, and Luke’s as well, meant to tell us that whoever this is believes that he, or she, is untouchable. But you know from your job, as well as I know, that they all think that they’re different than the other guys. That they really aren’t untouchable. You know that.”
“You really don’t think this is just someone trying to scare me, do you?” she asked, knowing she’d pressed him about this before, but unable to stop herself from doing so again.
“You can ask me that same question framed every which way you can think of and it’s always going to be the same,” he said. “I think it’s better to be safe than sorry. And you have experience and good instincts or you wouldn’t be good at your job. No matter what I say, you know what you feel. Don’t ignore a gut feeling. I learned that the hard way a very long time ago. So I’ll ask you now and probably again, what do you feel?”
“I don’t rattle easily, and I wouldn’t have slept if you hadn’t stayed with me. That’s not me. I see a lot of nastiness and I’ve learned to compartmentalize it outside my job.”
“You have to,” he said. “Believe me, I know. And I’m here.” He slid his hand under her hair, around her neck, “And not just because of these threats. I’m here because I want to be.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers, and a shiver of pure need slid down her spine.
“I’m glad you are,” she whispered, unsure what was happening to her, between them. She’d never felt so consumed by a man’s presence, so completely drawn to him.
He ran his hand down her hair. “I might have woken you up but I do have morning gifts.”
She laughed. “Morning gifts? Hmmm. Please tell me its toothpaste because I shouldn’t have just kissed you.”
“Better,” he assured her. “I called the corner deli and they delivered donuts.”
“You had donuts delivered and I didn’t hear the door but I heard the phone? Now I’m questioning my survival instincts.”
“I was smart enough to step in the hallway to make the call and then have the doorman text me when he was bringing them up. I wanted to ask him a few questions anyway, so I made it worth his while. Cash and donuts buys a lot of information. A little trick an ex-cop taught me.”
She laughed, liking that he shared those insider jokes with her, but somehow didn’t seem a part of the insiders at all.
He pushed to his feet. “Stay put and I’ll bring them to you.”
Lauren smiled as he headed to the kitchen, and wondered if he even realized when he gave orders. Somehow, she didn’t think so, and was odd considering what she knew of herself and her dislike for bossy people, she found it endearing rather than irritating. And this wasn’t an order she intended to follow. She threw off the blanket and rushed towards the bedroom and her bathroom.
Not five minutes later, Lauren had brushed her teeth and hair, and washed her face, before returning to find Royce sitting on the couch with donuts and coffee for them both laid out on the coffee table.
“A girl could get used to a big brawny man attending to her caffeine needs every morning,” she said, joining him and sitting down beside him again. She reached for the coffee mug and inhaled. “The only thing better than caffeine in the morning is sugar.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” he said. “And you just happen to live down the road from one of the best donut makers in the city.”
Lauren woke to the phone ringing. Blinking, she eased up on her elbow, realizing she was still on the couch and the light streaming through her blinds said it was already Sunday morning. She glanced down to find the blanket from her bed on top of her. Any pleasure at knowing Royce had done something so thoughtful, so intimate, faded with the incessant ringing demanding her attention.
Behind her, she heard the phone lift, her home phone, and reality hit her. It was her caller again, her... stalker. She hated that word but that’s what this was starting to feel like. She sat up straight, her breath lodged in her throat. The next few seconds felt like eternity, as she waited to see what would happen, but there was only silence, until Royce hung up the receiver. Almost instantly, as if he’d already had someone on the line, he spoke into his cell phone, or so she assumed, “Yeah I know,” he said in a low voice. “Too short to trace. And yeah, whoever it is has to know I’m here since they knew she was with me last night. And yeah, I know what that means.” He ended the call without a goodbye. She sensed rather than heard him heading in her direction.
Lauren’s fingers curled into the blanket as she waited for him to join her. “I woke you up,” he said, rounding the couch to sit down next to her. “Sorry about that.”
“I heard the phone ring,” she said, turning to him, aware of him as a man despite her distress, aware of how their legs melded together, of his smell, spicy and male, both arousing and comforting. “And I heard you say that whoever the caller was knows that you’re here and ‘yeah you know what that means’. What does that mean?”
“I should have stepped into the hall,” he said. “You didn’t need to hear that.
“Yes, I did. I don’t want to be coddled, Royce. I want to know what I’m dealing with.”
He considered her a moment, and then nodded. “Fair enough. No coddling.” He reached up and brushed hair from her eyes. “The call was a taunt that was, in my professional opinion, and Luke’s as well, meant to tell us that whoever this is believes that he, or she, is untouchable. But you know from your job, as well as I know, that they all think that they’re different than the other guys. That they really aren’t untouchable. You know that.”
“You really don’t think this is just someone trying to scare me, do you?” she asked, knowing she’d pressed him about this before, but unable to stop herself from doing so again.
“You can ask me that same question framed every which way you can think of and it’s always going to be the same,” he said. “I think it’s better to be safe than sorry. And you have experience and good instincts or you wouldn’t be good at your job. No matter what I say, you know what you feel. Don’t ignore a gut feeling. I learned that the hard way a very long time ago. So I’ll ask you now and probably again, what do you feel?”
“I don’t rattle easily, and I wouldn’t have slept if you hadn’t stayed with me. That’s not me. I see a lot of nastiness and I’ve learned to compartmentalize it outside my job.”
“You have to,” he said. “Believe me, I know. And I’m here.” He slid his hand under her hair, around her neck, “And not just because of these threats. I’m here because I want to be.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers, and a shiver of pure need slid down her spine.
“I’m glad you are,” she whispered, unsure what was happening to her, between them. She’d never felt so consumed by a man’s presence, so completely drawn to him.
He ran his hand down her hair. “I might have woken you up but I do have morning gifts.”
She laughed. “Morning gifts? Hmmm. Please tell me its toothpaste because I shouldn’t have just kissed you.”
“Better,” he assured her. “I called the corner deli and they delivered donuts.”
“You had donuts delivered and I didn’t hear the door but I heard the phone? Now I’m questioning my survival instincts.”
“I was smart enough to step in the hallway to make the call and then have the doorman text me when he was bringing them up. I wanted to ask him a few questions anyway, so I made it worth his while. Cash and donuts buys a lot of information. A little trick an ex-cop taught me.”
She laughed, liking that he shared those insider jokes with her, but somehow didn’t seem a part of the insiders at all.
He pushed to his feet. “Stay put and I’ll bring them to you.”
Lauren smiled as he headed to the kitchen, and wondered if he even realized when he gave orders. Somehow, she didn’t think so, and was odd considering what she knew of herself and her dislike for bossy people, she found it endearing rather than irritating. And this wasn’t an order she intended to follow. She threw off the blanket and rushed towards the bedroom and her bathroom.
Not five minutes later, Lauren had brushed her teeth and hair, and washed her face, before returning to find Royce sitting on the couch with donuts and coffee for them both laid out on the coffee table.
“A girl could get used to a big brawny man attending to her caffeine needs every morning,” she said, joining him and sitting down beside him again. She reached for the coffee mug and inhaled. “The only thing better than caffeine in the morning is sugar.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” he said. “And you just happen to live down the road from one of the best donut makers in the city.”
