It was from Rafe. “Orange juice is in the fridge. Went for a run. Back in an hour.”
“Oh goody,” she said with a sigh and crumpled the paper. “A runner.” Hopefully, he didn’t have high hopes of her taking up the hobby now, just because they’d slept together. Darcy hated running. She did enough of it in high school in track. The track coach had taken one look at her long, gangly legs freshman year, and somehow he’d talked her into joining the team. Four years later, she’d had a handful of medals that meant nothing and a healthy aversion to lacing up her running shoes ever again. She helped herself to the orange juice and found some cream cheese to lather her bagel, and as she munched on the least healthy breakfast she’d eaten since arriving, she realized it might be a good opportunity to snoop around.
She already knew the drawers in the buffet were empty. There weren’t any personal photos anywhere to hide anything behind the frames, so that left the desk. Popping the last of her bagel into her mouth, she took a seat at the flat, ugly desk that had definitely seen better days.
Darcy sifted through a few papers, found them to be ordinary household stuff and then quickly opened the drawers to see what she could find there. Neat and orderly, just like his kitchen cabinets, there were pens, paper clips and other assorted office supplies but nothing that would lift an eyebrow. She let out an annoyed sigh and realized Rafe was most definitely hiding something. No one was this organized
and
boring in their household affairs. That, in and of itself, was a red flag. His laptop sat on the desk, but she didn’t dare attempt cracking it open when he could walk through the door any minute. However, something told her his laptop was likely sanitized, like his home. As she leaned back in the chair, a sudden thought came to her.
His phone. He never went anywhere without it. In fact, he was almost obsessive about knowing where his phone was at all times.
She was willing to bet her eyeteeth whatever Rafe was hiding was in that phone.
So, how was she going to get it from him without his noticing?
That was a problem for another time, she noted as Rafe walked in, his face damp from sweat and the form-fitting T-shirt clinging to his hard body. Mission discarded for the moment, she eyed him boldly. “Have a good run?”
“Not bad. I was a little tired,” he admitted, sharing a private smile with Darcy as he downed the rest of his water from his water bottle and then tossed it into the recycle bin. “You sleep okay?”
“Like a baby.”
“I thought so.”
“Why? Are you going to tell me I snore?”
He shook his head. “No, but you do talk in your sleep.”
The playful smile on her lips faded, afraid of what she might’ve mumbled without realizing it. “Oh? And what did I say? I’d like to point out that whatever I said doesn’t mean anything and can’t be held against me,” she added with what she hoped was a humorous tone so as not to give away the sudden lurch in her stomach. She needn’t have worried.
His chuckle lessened the tension as he said, “Nothing but incoherent mumblings. Your secrets are safe.”
She smiled.
At least for the time being.
Now to tackle the elephant in the room. “So, you know things have changed, right? We can’t pretend we didn’t do what we did, but that’s not to say that I’m looking for a relationship, so please, don’t feel obligated to suddenly start opening doors for me and planning a date night. I’m fine with being a roommate with benefits, with only you and I knowing of our…special relationship.”
He crossed his arms, giving a subtle frown. “That would be okay with you?”
“Of course it would. I wouldn’t have brought it up if it weren’t.”
“That’s very progressive of you,” he remarked mildly, though she wasn’t quite sure if he actually agreed. “And what if that arrangement doesn’t work for me?”
She blinked in surprise. “Why wouldn’t it? I seem to recall neither of us is looking to get involved emotionally. You’re a workaholic and I’m just getting to know the community. We both have lives that are separate and we’d like to keep it that way, but that’s not to say we can’t enjoy each other’s company now and then when the mood strikes.”
It sounded good in theory. Already she could read the fatal flaws in the design, but she wasn’t about to admit that to Rafe. She was sitting in his robe and wearing his slippers. She could smell him on her skin—and she liked it. She’d never believed in love at first sight, and she still didn’t, but she couldn’t deny the magnetic pull between them. Even now, as he stood damp with sweat and still smelling of sex from the night before, she wanted him.
Rafe caught the delicate shudder that rippled through her and his demeanor changed, narrowing with instant awareness. Her breath hitched and an unspoken exchange passed between them.
“Shower?” he murmured, his gaze never leaving hers.
She nodded slowly. He took her hand and gently pulled her from the chair, then guided her at the small of her back toward the bathroom. It was an incredibly sexy gesture that caused her heart to race and her insides to melt.
There were two sides of her, each struggling for dominance. One side was myopically focused on finding answers at any cost and the other side was more interested in spending hours in bed with Rafe, shutting out the world and everything in it.
She gasped as Rafe’s mouth worked magic on her body. There was no mistaking which side was winning at the moment....
It was midafternoon when Rafe received an unpleasant surprise after enjoying a rather wonderful morning. True to her word, Darcy effectively shelved their relationship the minute they exited the front door of the house, which at first he found jarring, but then he felt this was best for both of them. Neither could afford to let anyone know that their relationship had turned personal.
Police Chief Bo Fargo walked into the office and made straight for Darcy with some semblance of a pleasant grin on his face that only made him look like a psychopath with an agenda. Rafe made an attempt to appear nonchalant at the man’s appearance, but he had an idea what the visit was about, and Rafe couldn’t help the surge of possessiveness that followed. “What brings you in, Chief Fargo?” he asked conversationally.
“Came to talk with the little lady here,” he said, gesturing to Darcy. “Got a minute?”
Darcy shot Rafe a look, almost pleading for intervention, but he couldn’t do anything overt without arousing suspicion, so he ignored the look and said, “No problem. We have a few minutes between patients.”
“But I think I should stay by the phone just in case,” Darcy interjected quickly with a brief, guileless smile. “Don’t you agree, Dr. Black?”
Smooth girl. “Yes, that would be great. If you wouldn’t mind, Chief…”
Fargo looked as if he’d just sucked a lemon but jerked a short nod anyway. “Yeah, I’ll make it quick,” he groused, returning to Darcy. Rafe made a show of perusing a patient file, but in truth, he was keenly listening to the exchange.
“You’re a hard girl to find,” Fargo said, his voice low and vaguely accusatory. “Two weeks ago, I talked to you about meeting with Mr. Grayson. He’s a very important man and he’s eager to make your acquaintance. Aren’t you excited about meeting our town’s most important resident?”
Rafe grit his teeth, wanting to put his fist through Fargo’s fleshy mouth for being Grayson’s lapdog and servant boy.
“Most important? I thought the mayor got top billing in most towns,” she teased.
“Well, Cold Plains is special,” Fargo said. “We do things differently.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed.”
“So, when can I tell Mr. Grayson you’ll see him?”
“Well…”
“He’s real eager, and he’s a busy man,” Fargo said, pressing her.
It took everything in Rafe not to interject. In fact, he was nearly biting his tongue in half. But he needn’t have worried. Darcy was tougher than she looked.
“I’ll let you know. I’m really busy here with work and I’m still just feeling my way around town. I’m sure I’m bound to bump into him eventually. It’s a pretty small town.”
Rafe chanced to look up and caught Fargo’s jowly face flush and his stare narrow in thinly disguised anger, but Darcy seemed not to notice she was treading on dangerous ground. Maybe that was her saving grace because Fargo dialed it down and said with a shrug, “Suit yourself. Just don’t wait too long. Mr. Grayson meets a lot of people. You don’t want to miss out on making an impression.”
“Duly noted, Chief,” she said sweetly.
Fargo tipped his hat in a desultory manner and left the building. Rafe let the tension flow from his shoulders and released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He caught Darcy’s gaze and she smirked.
“You handled yourself well,” he said.
“No thanks to you. What gives? That guy is a creep. He’s been stalking me for days. And what’s the deal with this Grayson guy? He meets everyone new in town?”
“He meets every woman in town,” Rafe clarified, frowning at her preceding statement. “If I’d come rushing to your rescue, Chief Fargo would’ve been suspicious, and I don’t need anyone questioning my loyalty to Cold Plains.”
“And why is that, exactly?”
He leveled his stare at her. “It’s personal.”
“Isn’t everything?” she countered, not deterred. But that was as far as she got because a patient walked in. Her mouth firmed as if disappointed at being interrupted, but she turned away from Rafe, and he heard the welcoming smile in her voice as she greeted his patient.
He smothered a smile, inappropriate to the situation, but Darcy was something else. He’d never met a woman who could switch on and off like she could. Maybe she ought to work for the CIA, he mused before heading to the exam room to meet with his patient. Funny thing about that quality, though. If she could shut off whatever she was feeling at that moment, how was he to know what was fake and what was real?
Chapter 15
F
or the time being, Darcy felt she’d put Chief Fargo off for a bit, but she didn’t doubt that he’d come around again eventually. Darcy was starting to get a feel for what went on around this town and she was universally squicked out over the idea of being paraded in front of some guy in the hopes of impressing him enough for him to bed her. But she’d done a little research into cults before landing in Cold Plains and had even studied such men as Jim Jones, David Koresh and assorted other nut jobs who fancied themselves leaders of their communities. Her daddy-o certainly fit the bill from what she could tell: egotistical, narcissistic and suffering from a God complex. Well, she didn’t know about the God complex, but she wouldn’t be surprised. The very fact that Chief Fargo was intent on presenting her to Grayson like a subject in the king’s realm was proof enough for her that Grayson was running a ship of fools and he was the captain.
So what was so personal to Rafe that he couldn’t stick up for her when she needed it? She’d known that he wanted to, she’d seen it in the tension cording his shoulders, yet he’d remained silent. Would he have let Fargo drag her out of there, kicking and screaming? She scowled. It certainly didn’t jibe with that gentlemanly vibe she’d gotten earlier. Of course, they had mucked things up by sleeping together. It complicated things, even though they both talked a good game about keeping their relationship professional during the day, no matter what they did at night.
What a bunch of horse dookie. Darcy sent a prayer skyward to her mother, hoping Louise noticed how she refrained from using her word of choice in that instance, but it certainly didn’t feel as satisfying.
She busied herself with straightening her desk, but questions remained no matter how hard she pushed them aside. It really bothered her that Rafe had done nothing to deter Fargo. She didn’t expect him to be her knight in shining armor, but for crying out loud, she didn’t think he’d be the kind of man to look the other way when a woman was in trouble.
Darcy drummed her fingers lightly against the surface of the desk, her thoughts in a tangle.
Oh, who cares why Rafe didn’t rise to the occasion,
she argued with herself. She was here to find answers about her mother, not moon after some guy because he didn’t rise to her level of expectation in the chivalry department.
It was all well and good to use logic to talk herself down from an emotional snit, except anyone who has tried knows when you’re in an emotional state, logic means nothing.
So when the day came to an end, and she and Rafe went home, her bruised feelings had morphed into real anger, and she’d be the first to admit logic had lost the fight hours ago.
“Hey, I thought since I bailed on dinner last night, maybe I could redeem myself and fix something tonight. I make a mean quesadilla.”
Darcy shot him a cold look. “I’m not hungry.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, a rain check, then, I suppose?”
She exhaled a short irritated breath. Was he actually trying to make small talk as if he hadn’t totally
failed
earlier today? Either he had an incredibly short memory or he was hoping she did. “Let’s cut the crap, Rafe. I’m not in the mood.”
Rafe wisely refrained from countering with something snide, which she gave him points for, but she wasn’t in the mood to give him much more. But then he went and ruined things by calling her out.