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“You called me a bitch. What did you expect?”
This gave him pause. It looked as though he was having an internal deliberation, and doing a poor job of disguising it.
“I’ve given that some thought. That was out of line, uncalled for. Can you forgive my unprofessional behavior?” He almost became charming while apologizing, gaze softening with brows raised.
Maybe he wasn’t a huge prick, just a prick.
“I suppose I owe you an apology, too. That was a pretty strong accusation. I had a bad experience with a guy sophomore year. Not exactly stalking, but it left me rattled.”
She owed Dr. Merino an apology, nothing more, and yet the explanation fled her mouth. Just because he showed a sliver of humanity with a partial smile didnotjustify opening up to him, she scolded herself.
Especially not about Reid Emerson.
“If I’ve made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry. Truly.” A second apology. The softness in his eyes vanished, expression as blank as an untouched canvas. “I’m passionate about my work, and having you in the office has been an adjustment. I know I come off kind of intense.”
The apology was different from the first. This one had been tuned and strummed, like her battered acoustic guitar before a performance. It felt rehearsed. Kenna’s skin prickled as the dissection of his speech washed over her.
She had to get rid of him. End the conversation.
“I’m sure I’ll get used to it,” Kenna joked, struggling to keep her tone light as she backed away. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
But it wasn’t Monday when he saw her next.
It was a mere fifteen minutes later as Dayton headed out to his Caprice and noticed Kenna unchaining her bike from an otherwise empty rack. A backpack full of groceries rested near her feet as she fiddled with the combination lock. The universe was offering her on a silver platter, and he wasn’t one to decline this sort of egregious enticement.
No, he would graciously accept what the cosmos had proffered on this fateful Saturday morning.
It was the perfect opportunity to earn her trust.
“Need a ride?”
He maintained a respectable distance. He’d already spooked her with his heedless demeanor; the last thing he needed was to give her a reason to refuse the ride, one he desperately wanted her to accept.
“I don’t know.” Kenna glanced at the heavy bag of groceries, probably thinking about how her back might have felt later. “What about my bike? I can’t leave it here.”
“I have plenty of room for it.”
“Okay, sure, thanks.”
Her speech was rushed and Dayton felt transcendent as she guided her bike, all nerves and nearness, alongside him toward the ancient station wagon. He unlocked the trunk and laid her bike inside with unexpected gentleness.
“This thing is a relic.”
“I drove a BMW, once upon a time. This tin wagon is my self-imposed punishment for wrecking it.” A palpable tension hung in the air as they climbed into their respective seats. Kenna’s light eyelashes fluttered at an alarming pace, her swallows audible in the dead silence of the vehicle. “Where to?”
“Pacific Heights. Do you know it?” She dared a glance at him.
“I do.”
She was so close that he could decipher all of the scents that encompassed her being, the delicate notes he associated with his resuscitated lunacy: the faded mint of her toothpaste, the tea tree oil on her face, the warm, vanilla perfume that lingered on her neck and mixed in with her freshly washed hair.
Pure bliss.
She bit her tongue before a question about knowing the apartment complex slipped. From now on, she would keep her suspicions to herself until they were debunked or a substantiated conclusion was reached.
Bringing Dr. Merino’s attention to the stalking theory had been unwise and she would have to be more guarded if she expected to get anywhere with her investigation.
She’d accepted the ride in the name of research. Sure, not having to bike home with a load of groceries was an enticing bonus. Kenna was anxious to see how Dr. Merino behaved with her in such an intimate, confined space. It could be insightful to his character.
