Blind Date

  People are right when they say you think of everything you should be doing when something happens that could threaten your very existence. I’ve been holding back for the last four years, mourning for Raymond, but I should have been living. Hell, he’d want me to live. He would want me to be out there, enjoying life, traveling—hell, even falling in love. But I’ve kept it all at arm’s length, terrified to live again, terrified to hurt again.

  Now I may not get any of that.

  My head drops into my arms and I cry so hard my body shakes. I’m making so many ugly sounds, I don’t hear the shower door open, I don’t realize anyone is in my bathroom until two solid arms come around me, and I’m being scooped up. A startled scream escapes my throat, followed by more hysterical sobs. “Hush,” he murmurs. “It’s me.”

  Ace?

  He carries me out of the shower, jerking a towel off the railing as he goes. He wraps it around me, as best he can, and then sits us down on the bed, me nestled in his lap, his big thighs encasing my bottom, his arms wrapped around my body, securing me in, and his chest pressing against me, making me feel safe. I turn and nuzzle into him, pressing my cheek against his pec and sobbing. I can’t stop it. I don’t even think I should.

  I’m so afraid.

  Ace doesn’t say anything, he just holds onto me as I break in his arms. Occasionally his fingers run down my hair, or stroke over my shoulder. I tremble and sob, clutching onto him for dear life, not wanting him to let go, because right now, he’s the only person who makes me feel safe. After a good twenty minutes of crying, my tears slowly start to subside, and I start the hiccupping every few seconds, as my body tries to calm itself.

  “It’s going to be okay, Hartley,” he murmurs into my hair. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  I hiccup again.

  “I know you’re afraid, I know you’re carrying around something nobody can understand, but I need you to trust me.”

  A nod. Then another hiccup.

  “You have to be strong. You have to keep it together. This is what he wants. This is him trying to break you. Do not let him break you. You’ve been through what is, without a doubt, the hardest thing any person can endure in life—losing someone you love. You got through that, and you carried on with your life. Don’t let him win now.”

  Don’t let him win now.

  Don’t let him win.

  I nod and mindlessly press my lips to Ace’s chest. The cotton of his shirt meets them, making me realize what I just did. I jerk back and look up at him. He’s studying me, and the look on his face is one I can’t read. It’s soft, yet it holds the same broodiness it always has, but it’s what’s behind his eyes that captures me. Affection. I can see it, so very clearly. A deep affection. A deep affection aimed at me.

  “I won’t let him win,” I croak.

  He nods, but those eyes stay locked on mine. “Good girl.”

  He lifts me off his lap, and I want to whine and cling to him, but I don’t. I let him carefully move me and place me down onto the soft mattress we’re sitting on. I tuck the towel around me, and only now realize he just saw me naked. My cheeks burn at the thought, and I stand on shaky legs and move to my closet, grabbing a pair of cotton shorts and a tank.

  I duck into the bathroom, get changed, brush my hair and teeth, and then slip back out. Ace is still sitting on my bed, and he’s studying the note I dropped in the hall when I had my little meltdown. I join him back on the bed, staring at the letter in his hands. “That handwriting is identical to Raymond’s.”

  Ace nods. “It isn’t hard for people to learn how to copy someone’s handwriting, it’s how people forge signatures. Now come on, you need to take your mind off it.”

  “I’m sorry, about all of this. I’ve had a really bad night. There is a girl at work and she just made my night miserable.”

  “Did you put her name on the list of people for me to check out?”

  I nod. “Yes. She did say something about me being entitled because I lost my husband. Do you think she might have something to do with this?”

  Ace shrugs. “It could be anyone, or it could be a perfect stranger. Either way, I’ll look into her.”

  I nod, tucking my legs up to my chest. A long, drawn-out yawn escapes my throat. I’m so tired. I’m starting to wonder when the last time I had a decent sleep was.

  “You need to get some sleep,” Ace says, studying me, tucking the note into his pocket.

  “I can’t,” I whisper. “I try and try, but I just can’t sleep. Even if you’re in my house, even if Taylor is … I just can’t sleep.”

  He nods and then stands, pulling his shirt from the top of his pants. I watch, my mouth slightly agape, as he pulls it over his head and tosses it on the floor. Then he makes light work of his pants, stripping down until he’s wearing only his boxer briefs. “Which is your side?”

  I blink.

  He stares at me expectantly. “Which is your side, Hartley?”

  “What are you doing?” I whisper.

  “I’m getting into this bed, so I can get some sleep. I could sleep for a year with the shifts I’ve been working, and you’re afraid, so it’s a win-win. Now which side is yours?”

  “You’re going to … sleep … with me?”

  He gives me that impatient look. “I’m not going to touch you, or try anything, I’m just going to be in here, because I know you’ll sleep if I am.”

  I swallow.

  Ace. In my bed.

  In my bed.

  Oh God.

  “Isn’t that against the rules or something?”

  He raises his brows. “Since when do you care about the rules, and I’m off duty. Right now, we’re just friends.”

  “We’re friends?”

  He makes an impatient sound and looks to the ceiling. Only after a few seconds of deep breathing, does he glance back down at me. “Are you going to ask questions all night, or are you going to let me get some sleep?”

  “Right,” I whisper. “I sleep on the left.”

  He nods, moving around to the right side of the bed, tossing the covers back, and sliding in. I stand at the end of the bed, lamely, just glancing down at him. He tucks his hands up behind his head, and then looks at me. “Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to get in?”

  I swallow.

  Then I get in, laying my body right on the edge, nervous but not uncomfortable. I haven’t slept in the same bed as a man for over four years. I don’t know what it feels like anymore. What if I snore? Or worse? What if I grope him? What if I try to cuddle him? God. The possibilities of what I may do when sleeping are endless.

  Before I can think too much more about it, an arm stretches across the bed, curling around my wrist, and then before I know what’s happening, I’m being jerked closer to Ace. I gasp, and scramble backwards a little when he lets me go. “I don’t bite,” he murmurs. “Seriously, anyone would think you’ve never had a man in your bed.”

  “It’s been a while,” I tell him.

  He glances at me. “For me, too.”

  Oh.

  Suddenly, I feel better. So much better. Because he gets it. He understands. He might not be showing it in the way I am, but he knows exactly what I’m talking about. My body relaxes, and I study him as he pulls out his phone and sends a couple of text messages. “You’re doing the staring thing again.”

  “That’s because you’re nice to stare at,” I admit.

  He glances away from the phone and looks at me. He doesn’t say anything, he just takes me in for a minute, and then looks back to his phone. Already my eyes are getting heavy. I try to keep my focus on him, but having someone in my bed, knowing I’m safe, knowing that nobody can get in this room without Ace knowing, has my body relaxing for the first time in weeks.

  Before I know it, I’m asleep.

  But I could swear I hear him say in a low, whispered tone, “You’re nice to stare at too, sweetheart.”

  But I think I’m dreaming.

  *
* *

  I wake in the morning and there is something big, hard, and warm running up the entire length of my body from behind. For a moment, I panic, and then I remember that Ace was in my bed last night, and chose to sleep with me. I shift a little, but he’s wrapped himself around me. One arm is slung over my waist, one of his legs is tangled through mine, and I can feel his breath tickling the back of my neck.

  He’s spooning me!

  My heart races and for a long, long moment I don’t know what to do. Should I move? Should I just stay here and enjoy how incredible it feels to have a man so close to me, wrapping me in his warmth? I shift, and I don’t miss the hard length pressing against my bottom. Oh. My. God. Morning wood. My cheeks burn and I try to suppress the random giggle that climbs up my throat, but I can’t hold it back.

  It’s so out of the blue, so completely strange, but it bursts from my mouth loud and cackling.

  Ace shifts behind me, and that length rubs against my bottom, only increasing my giggles until I’m laughing.

  “Are you laughing?” he murmurs in that sleepy, sexy voice all men have when they wake in the morning.

  “You…” I inhale, trying to keep it together. “You have…”

  “Morning wood.”

  I burst out into more hysterical laughter.

  He obviously doesn’t think it’s funny.

  “What is so funny about that?” he grumbles.

  “You just … you just … I just…”

  I can’t breathe.

  This is so embarrassing it’s funny.

  “All men get it, Hartley,” he grunts. “No big deal.”

  No big deal.

  Oh God.

  I lose it. I’m crazy. It’s official.

  “No big deal, huh?” I say between pants of laughter.

  “Jesus Christ,” he grumbles. “You’ve lost it.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why. I just, I don’t know, it’s funny.”

  “Still can’t see how.”

  No. Neither can I. But do you think that’ll stop the laughter?

  He places a hand on my hip and thrusts forward. My laughter is strangled in my throat as a burst of pleasure shoots right to my core. My mouth drops open and holy crap, I think I might need a new set of panties.

  “Now who’s laughing?” he growls into my ear, before rolling away, leaving me aching in a place that hasn’t ached for so many years.

  Well.

  Okay then.

  I roll and watch as he climbs out of the bed, shoves one big hand into his boxers and adjusts himself, and then leans down and picks up his clothes. I lick my lips, and swallow a few times because my throat is dry. God, he’s gorgeous. My body tingles as it recalls the very recent feeling he gave it, when he thrust that long, thick length against me. I shudder.

  Get it together.

  I force my body to move and slide out of the bed, throwing my legs over the side. I stand, not glancing at Ace again as I grab a robe and pull it around myself, before disappearing out of the room and into the kitchen. I turn the coffee maker on just as Ace comes out, fully dressed, running his fingers through his hair.

  “Want a coffee?” I ask him.

  “What are your plans for today? Do you have to work?” he responds, ignoring my actual question.

  “Yeah, I work from lunchtime until after eight tonight.”

  “Good, I’ll have someone outside to make sure you get in okay.”

  Okay then.

  “So, coffee?”

  He shakes his head. “I have to get going. I’ll call in someone to wait at the door until you’re ready for work. You going to be okay on your own?”

  He’s being weird.

  I hate that.

  Did my laughing make him feel uncomfortable? Or is he regretting staying the night? Maybe it made him feel strange. After all, he lost his wife not all that long ago. Maybe it’s bringing back some painful memories. Deciding not to make a big deal of it because, after all, he’s just taking care of me because it’s his job, I smile and nod. “Okay, no problem.”

  He doesn’t look at me as he pulls out his phone and makes a call, barking an order at the poor sod on the other side, telling whomever it is to come up and take watch at my door. Then he hangs up the phone, grabs his things, and leans a hip against the counter to wait.

  “Call me when you’re finished work,” he murmurs, looking anywhere but at me. “So I know you’re safe, I’ll check in with the officers I have on duty.”

  Right.

  “Okay,” I say softly.

  A knock sounds at the door a couple of minutes later, and without a good bye, Ace goes over to it, says something to the man on the other side, and then yells out “Lock the door” before leaving.

  Well.

  That was awkward.

  And kind of painful.

  What did I do wrong?

  TWENTY

  I stretch and yawn, glad my shift is over. It’s past nine, and I worked a little longer than I anticipated. It was busier than usual, so when my boss asked if I could stay back a few hours, I happily agreed. It’s more cash for me, and the tips were super tonight, so I earned a little more than I usually would for the week. I walk out front of the restaurant and stand under the streetlight, pulling out my phone. I’m right near the door, so I figure I’m safe enough here.

  The police officer watching me left about five minutes ago, as Ace is on his way. He told me to stay inside the restaurant until Ace arrived. I agreed, even though here I am standing out front, but I can hear my boss’s voice behind me. She’s standing at the door chatting to a lingering customer. I highly doubt anyone will jump out and grab me right now. I shoot Taylor a message while I wait for Ace.

  H: Hey chicky. I miss you. How are you?

  She responds right away.

  T: Good, busy. I have all these assessments going right now. Boo! I wanted to come over tonight, but I have taken tomorrow night off so I can come and stay with you. How are you?

  H: I’m doing okay. Getting there.

  T: I’m glad. Listen, I’m in class atm. I’ll call you tonight?

  H: Perfect! Xo

  I tuck my phone away and wait. Five minutes turns into ten, and Ace still isn’t here. I glance down at the time—yep, he should be here by now. The station isn’t that far away from where I work, and he told the other officer he was nearly here. I pull out my phone again and call him. It goes to voicemail. I try again. Nothing.

  Sighing, I tuck it back away and wait another fifteen minutes. Something has obviously held him up, and I really want to get home. I glance over to the street where my car is parked. It’s just across the road. I’ll lock the doors when I get in and wait for him at home, but I really need to pee, and shower, and I’m tired. I contemplate it for a minute, glancing around. There doesn’t seem to be anyone nearby. I try calling Ace once more, and when he doesn’t answer, I turn and call out to my boss, “I’m going to leave. If someone comes asking for me, tell him I’ve gone home! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She waves. “No problem, hon. Good night.”

  “Night!”

  I walk out the front doors and glance over at the parking lot that holds my car. I’ve been parking closer since the last incident. My phone beeps with a text just as I’m about to reach for my keys. I pull it out and glance at it, walking and reading the text from Taylor. I respond as I walk.

  By the time I get to the car, I haven’t yet pulled out my keys. I usually have them in my hand before I even walk out the doors. I immediately dig around for them. A noise distracts me, causing me to jerk my head up. I glance around, but I can’t see anyone. Something uneasy washes over me, and my movements become frantic, as I dig around in my purse for my keys.

  Why is there so much shit in here?

  Another noise has my head whipping around. It sounds like someone is close by. I quickly scan the other cars, but can’t see anything or anyone around. My heart kicks into overdrive. This was a bad idea. Dammit, where the
hell are my keys? I shove my hand so hard into my purse it drops to the ground, scattering items everywhere.

  “Dammit!” I hiss, dropping down to my knees and picking up as much as I can.

  The sound of boots crunching has my heart launching into my throat. This was definitely a bad idea. What was I thinking? Anyone could take me. Dammit. Panic seizes me as my fingers fumble around with the items on the ground, picking them up as quickly as I can. When I hear another noise, closer this time, I decide screw it. I find my keys, and pick them up along with my phone and house keys. All the other little things can stay there.

  I stand quickly, eyes scanning around once more.

  I can’t see anyone, but I can feel it. Someone is watching me. Panic grips my chest again, tightening it until I feel like I can’t breathe. I shove the key into the car door and unlock it, practically throwing my body into the driver’s seat. I shut the door quickly and lock it, and for a moment I sit there, panting, eyes darting around the parking lot.

  Someone is out there.

  I know they are.

  I start the car and back out quickly, not wanting to look around a second longer. Only when I pull out onto the main road, do I exhale. Oh God. Was he there? Was he right there? Would he have taken me? What in the hell was I thinking? I shouldn’t have gotten distracted by my phone and had my keys in my hands, like I always do. It was absolutely incredibly stupid of me to do something so unsafe when my life is on the line. And where the hell is Ace?

  I’m an idiot.

  An absolute idiot.

  My hands tremble the entire way home, and when I pull up at the apartment complex, I just sit in my car, doors locked, too afraid to get out. I’m not risking walking up there on my own. I shouldn’t have even gotten into this car on my own. I dig through my purse, grateful I didn’t lose the pepper spray when I dropped it. I curl my fingers around the pepper spray and bring it close to my chest. Then I put my phone in my other hand. And I just wait.