“We should sleep.”
“That’s what I thought, buddy.”
We strip quickly. He lies down on one side of the bed. When I’m done, I lie on the other, facing away from him. I only have to wait a second before a big arm pulls me into the warmth of his body. My mind, that’s been going haywire since Nicholas told me about the murder, calms down as if a switch has been turned off. My body relaxes, and my breath becomes even.
If this is it. If this were all the time I had, I’d be content spending my life in a cage because I got to live this with him. If this moment was the last time I’m happy, I don’t need another smile in my life. That’s the last thought in my mind before I drift off to the most restful sleep.
***
Sam does end up making breakfast, but Nicholas has to leave before he’s done.
“So what do you think about Indonesia after this blows up in our faces?” Sam asks as he stacks pancakes on my plate.
I narrow my eyes, suspicious of his chirpy tone. “We will figure it out.” We have to. Indonesia is nice, I’m sure. But I’mnotgiving up.
He gives me a look that says he thinks I’m hopeless. “So soft. Babe, someone is targeting us. We don’t know who it is. Of course, it’s going to go boom. And we’ll be right there with our unprotected gorgeous faces. Unless, of course, you know a millionaire who can have a jet ready to fly us out to the beautiful country of Indonesia on no notice.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Why are you giving up so easily? That’s not like you.” I pour a comfortable amount of maple syrup on my pancake.
He comes around the counter and sits beside me, stealing the bottle of syrup from my hand. “You’ll drown in it if you add any more. At least taste my hard work before covering it completely.”
I glare at him until he hands the bottle back over. I happily pour more on my large stack. “Don’t change the topic. Why do you think we can’t solve this problem? We’ve dealt with worse.”
Sam focuses on his pancakes, cutting them into small pieces like he’s going to feed a kid. “I don’t know. Indonesia sounds fun,” he says after a few seconds.
I look at his face expecting to see the ever-present grin and bright eyes, but I’m surprised to find shadows under his eyes and his mouth etched in a frown. The change is like a blow to my heart.
How did I miss it? And when did it happen? When did this perpetually smiling and teasing man become a shell of himself? Now that I’m paying attention, he looks thin. He is hunched over the counter, still playing with his food. This seems to be more than just being tired from the dangerous, long journey.
“Sam?”
He finally turns to look at me, smiling, but his eyes remaindistant, tired. “Of course, we’ll get this SOB. I’m kidding.” He waves his hand, dismissing me.
“Are you—” My phone, which is on the countertop between our plates, pings with an email. I ignore it. “Are—”
Sam picks it up and hands it to me. “It’s from Adrian’s office. Check it.”
I give in because he’s clearly not ready to talk. And I’m curious about the email too. I read it out to him, his smile getting wider with each sentence. By the end of it, his eyes are just as alive as they always are when he’s talking about a case.
Mr. Rhodes,
I’m so happy you reached out to us for legal assistance. Rest assured, you’ll receive the highest level of expertise for your case. I’m transferring your matter to Attorney Adrian Sinclair. He’s a Principal Associate in our Contract Department.
Attorney Sinclair will be in touch with you with the particulars of the case within the next few days. You can then schedule an appointment with him at your convenience.
Lily Adler
Hartwell & Pierce LLP
I read the email again. Then again. Something just doesn’t sit right.
Looking up at Sam, I ask, “Wasn’t it a bit too easy?”
Sam shrugs. “We knew he was in the contract department. It was just a numbers game, and it looks like we won. Don’t question it.”
Right. We were owed a win right about now anyway.
Chapter Six
