Authors: Norah Wilson
He swallowed. “Sounds like he did a good job of it.”
“Oh, he did. And it wasn’t all so he could monopolize my time. Yes, we did spend a lot of time together, but sometimes he’d do stuff for me just so I could get to bed earlier.”
Jesus, how could she not have known he loved her?
“Sorry, I got off track. You asked what we talked about. Your family, my family, our friends. Work, insofar as we could. Josh liked to pepper me with trivia questions.”
Boyd laughed. “Not just you. The guy was a walking encyclopedia. Talk about developing a complex.”
They were quiet for a moment.
“Yeah, we talked a lot. Endlessly, you’d probably say. But lately when we came here, he seemed more content to just
be
here, soaking up the sun without talking.”
Boyd snorted. “My brother? Josh? The man who talked to his cereal box if there was no one around? And who couldn’t sit still unless he had a keyboard at his fingertips or a pen and paper in his hand?”
She laughed. “Hard to believe, I know. But yeah, no mile-a-minute talking. No leaping up and dragging me off to play volleyball. He seemed very . . . I don’t know. Content? Almost peaceful.” She met his gaze. “I actually wondered if he’d given up on the search for your birth parents. Or, you know, back-burnered it.”
“
What?
”
“Crazy, huh? The thought actually crossed my mind. More than once. But I didn’t ask him about it. I was afraid he might think I was judging. He knew I totally supported his search, and not just for the medical history part. Though we never talked specifics, he knew I was a cheerleader on the sidelines. So when it seemed like he might be losing interest or impetus or whatever, I didn’t want him to think I disapproved.”
“I’m sure he appreciated your supportiveness.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “I think he did. And as it turns out, I couldn’t have been more wrong thinking he’d dropped it.”
“I’m thinking he must have gotten a sudden break. He probably called me immediately and left that message.”
“Probably.”
She stood. Boyd knew he should stand too, but he was enjoying the view right where he was.
“So, are you going to swim, or just sit around looking pretty, Detective McBride?”
“I’m gonna swim, Dr. Walsh.” He came to his feet, finding himself standing close to her. He saw awareness flash in her eyes, but she turned to walk toward the shoreline.
They spent twenty minutes in the water. The lake was extremely small, and the cordoned-off supervised swim area was even smaller. When Hayden ducked under the floating cordon and started stroking toward the other side of the lake, Boyd followed. There were a few people in small watercraft—kayaks and the like—in the middle of the lake, and he kept a close eye on them to make sure they weren’t a collision risk.
When they reached the other side, or rather when the water got so shallow he couldn’t swim any farther, he stood. “Yuck.”
She laughed. “Yeah, a little sediment on the bottom.”
“A little? I’m up to my ankles.” He noticed she kept paddling. It was too shallow to tread water so she was dog-paddling. He eyed the murky water. “Are you sure there are no leeches?”
“Who said there were no leeches?”
He cursed, and she laughed again.
“You should rest before we head back,” he said.
She flipped onto her back. “There. I’m resting.”
“You just don’t want to stand up in the muck.”
“That would be correct.”
He reached out and pulled her to him, just close enough so he could slide his arms under her to support her so she didn’t have to kick her feet or wave her arms. “There. Now you’re resting.”
She allowed him to support her for maybe a minute, probably less.
“We should go back now. I’m good to go.”
He released her. Once again, he let her go first, following a half-length behind. He slowed his pace, of course, but not by much. She was a strong swimmer.
Once back onshore, they toweled off, then sat on the blanket and let the sinking sun dry them further. They talked more about Josh, about previous visits to this crowded little lake and longer jaunts to the beach at Mactaquac Park. She remarked again on how active Josh used to be on those outings, and how laid-back he’d grown of late, how content to just lie in the sun.
Boyd frowned. “Do you think he was feeling symptoms? You know, heart troubles?”
Hayden, who’d been lying flat on her back with her legs outstretched, jackknifed up. “No! I don’t believe that at all. I mean, we still swam the lake. We still jogged together occasionally. He didn’t have any difficulty with those activities, or not that I noticed.”
And she would notice. Boyd believed that.
“It’s more that he wasn’t . . .
vibrating
all the time,” she said. “He could lie still, enjoy the sun, or have dessert and a glass of wine instead of rushing off to do something else, or engage someone else, or find another question to be answered.”
He grinned wryly. “More like a normal person, you mean?”
“Pretty much.”
Her answering smile caught him right in the libido. Or maybe it was the laughter in her crystal clear blue eyes, or her sun-kissed shoulders, or those generous breasts hugged so lovingly by the Lycra suit. Whatever the case, he found himself leaning in with purpose.
He saw the flash of surprise in her eyes, followed by the unmistakable blaze of desire. Then her lids closed. The sound of the kids squealing and splashing in the water disappeared as he focused on her mouth. He was finally going to taste those full, luscious lips he’d been thinking about since he first laid eyes on her.
When he placed his hand on her face to tip it up, he half expected her to pull back.
She didn’t.
He closed his lips on hers in a kiss that was almost chaste. It had to be on this public beach. But holy hell, even without their bodies touching, she packed a wallop. It was like all the pent-up sexual yearning inside her had condensed for him to taste on those gorgeous pillowy lips.
She pulled back then and looked up at him. Her brow was furrowed, but not with the recrimination he expected. Her eyes were filled with passion, yes, but also with puzzlement. As though she was waiting for some resistance to kick in.
Or, oh shit, trying to figure out why she’d shut Josh down but permitted his identical twin to kiss her.
And double shit!
What was he doing? This was the woman Josh had wanted. The one his heart was set on. How could he do this to Josh? Betray him like this when he was hardly cold in the grave?
Dammit, how could
she
do this to him?
No, that wasn’t fair. She clearly had no freaking idea of the extent or nature of Josh’s feelings.
Her tongue touched her lip. “What was that about?”
Okay, feeling like a heel and admitting it were two different things. “Are you honestly going to deny the chemistry here?”
“That would be pretty pointless. I won’t deny it or try to hide from it. And part of me wishes we weren’t standing on a public beach so you could kiss me properly.” Her lips twisted. “How’s that for honesty?”
Her words sent a savage jolt of satisfaction through him. He clamped down on it, sensing a
but
coming. Instead of waiting for her to say it, he said it for her. “But you’ve got your path mapped out and don’t need to take any detours. I know. And I respect that. I just got caught up.” He rolled his shoulders to try to dislodge the tension tightening his back muscles.
“I know. Me too.” She grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her shoulders, cloaking all but her calves and feet as she sat there. “We both loved Josh. Between that shared bond and this investigation of yours, it’s brought us so close, so fast. Throw in the attraction, and those moments are probably inevitable, right?”
“Right.” She was giving him a pass. So why didn’t he feel better?
“Between what we know
about
each other through Josh and these talks, sometimes it feels like we know each other really well. And yet, apart from shaking your hand at the funeral, we effectively just met a few days ago.”
The tightness in Boyd’s back seemed to work its way through to his chest and up to his jaw. He didn’t like her message, he realized. He really, really didn’t like it. And that fact shocked him so much that he leapt at the out she offered.
“You’re absolutely right, Doc. Your diagnosis is bang on.”
“Diagnosis?” She lifted an eyebrow. “Is a prescription now required?”
He produced a smile. “I can take my medicine like a big boy. Just as long as the prescription doesn’t mean we can’t hang out like we’ve been doing.”
“But I don’t know what more I can tell you.”
“You told me something new just this evening. How Josh seemed to mellow in those last weeks, even as he was getting closer to an answer. That has to mean something. I’m not sure what yet, but it means something.”
She still looked unconvinced.
“Come on, Hayden. I know how much you loved Josh. You gotta help me out. If there’s a chance someone is responsible for his death . . .” He let his words trail off.
She gave him a measuring look, and he met it straight on, letting her read the plea in his eyes.
“Okay,” she said at last. “I’m not sure I can help, but I’m still in.”
“Thank you.” The tightness in his chest eased. Until he realized his relief wasn’t just about Josh. Not just about the investigation.
He wanted to keep seeing her. As often as he could.
And it wasn’t just about lusting after her, which he decidedly did—powerfully. She was so damned beautiful. Exotic.
But dammit, he
liked
her. Really liked her and respected and admired her. She was smart, held a deep well of strength inside her slim body, and was powerfully motivated to succeed but not to feed her ego. She was also kind and self-deprecating and honest. He liked her in every way. The way Josh probably had before he’d taken that irrevocable step off that cliff from like and tumbled straight into love.
He was going to have to tread carefully, lest he fall off the same ledge his brother had.
CHAPTER 12
Hayden was having a hard time concentrating on her morning newspaper.
Keeping her focus was usually not a problem. And in the ER, she made damned sure it was
never
a problem. In that environment, there just wasn’t room for anything else but the patient in front of her at that moment, and the one after that, and the one after that. Yeah, some of them were colds and flus and there was nothing she could do but dispense advice and write the occasional prescription if there was a secondary, opportunistic, infection present. But even with these patients, she always had to be careful. So she’d learned to keep a laser focus from the moment she logged in until she signed out, no matter what kind of turmoil might reign in her personal life.
Even off duty, she generally had no problem concentrating. She’d just put aside whatever was nagging at her, telling herself she would give it a full fifteen minutes worry time when she was ready to give it her attention. If she couldn’t come up with a productive solution in that time, she mentally moved it to the shit-I-have-zero-control-over list and let it go.
But this morning, her mind wasn’t cooperating, possibly because this was the first of a rare three days off—her regular off day and two scheduled holidays. Whatever the reason, her thoughts kept sliding back to Boyd.
She’d seen him yesterday after work, but only briefly, and for a very specific purpose.
He’d texted her with his latest brain wave—the idea that Josh might have hidden the diary somewhere in her apartment. He’d met her at her place after work and she’d watched as he searched her place. He’d asked her to search the dresser drawers and bathroom vanity herself, but he’d done the rest. Just watching his search, she discovered great spots to hide things if she ever decided to take up a life of crime. Spots she’d never have thought of in a million years. Up under the kitchen sink—or more specifically, in the space
between
the double sinks—got her vote for best place to stash something. He’d felt the undersides of furniture, popped the top off the toilet tank, and even peered into her freezer. He’d also scanned the books on her bookshelf, somewhere she’d never have thought to search, yet the perfect hiding place for a journal. He’d had no luck, though.
When he’d finished, he’d taken one look at her and told her to go to bed and that he’d call her the next day. He was right. She’d hit the wall, exhaustion-wise, and was grateful Boyd had recognized it. Grateful he didn’t need to be told to leave. Just a thank-you for letting him search her place, an apology for disrupting her stuff, and an order for her to lock the door behind him when he let himself out.
But it wasn’t yesterday that her mind kept sliding back to. It was the day before yesterday, when they’d lain there on that beach blanket and he’d kissed her in the shade of that tree while kids laughed and squealed and splashed yards away.
She’d had a hard time getting to sleep again last night, her imagination taunting her with what might have happened if she’d encouraged it, if she weren’t so conditioned to push every advance away. What would a real kiss have been like? Hard or soft? Would it have been a testing, tentative, questioning kiss, or a sweeping demand? And how would his lips have felt against hers? Cool from their swim, like the rest of their bodies? Dear God, how would he taste?
Before she finally got off to sleep around one a.m. after watching two DVR’d episodes of
Elementary
, she’d wished she’d kissed Boyd back the way she’d wanted to. Public beach or not, it would have been pretty spectacular. And if she’d just done that, she wouldn’t now have to wonder what it would be like. Then she’d woken at three a.m., fully aroused from a dream in which he’d done more than kiss her, and had been glad she hadn’t. If her dreams could conjure that degree of detail, imagine what could have happened had they actually made out!
Catching herself, she groaned and pushed the images away. Lord, where was her self-discipline? She was going to have to find it before tonight.
She’d agreed to take Boyd to the watering hole frequented by Josh’s colleagues from the paper tonight. On a Friday evening, most of them—and some of their spouses—could be relied on to be there for the happy hour period, if not longer. Boyd wanted a chance to nurse a few beers in their company, in the hopes that they’d talk freely about Josh while they were feeling all warm and loose from the alcohol.
It had been her idea. She had joined Josh and his fellow reporters at this particular pub before, after getting off shift, and she knew she’d be welcomed. So would Boyd, for that matter. When she mentioned the possibility, he’d jumped on it. And, yes, she felt guilty about exploiting her relationship with those people by springing Boyd on them. They were grieving Josh’s death too, and Boyd intended to ply them for information to assist his investigation. They’d probably never be the wiser, but that didn’t salve her conscience.
Dave Bradley would be there, no doubt. Josh had told her that he never missed the Friday night ritual. Not that she was expecting to have any trouble from Dave. Once she’d finally gotten through to him that she wasn’t interested, he’d left her alone. Pointedly. But from what Boyd had said, she knew he’d be paying particular attention to Dave.
And she, God help her, would be paying attention to Boyd. The more they saw each other, the harder it was getting to tune out the sexual awareness. It was starting to take on a pulse of its own. She was definitely going to have to be on her guard.
Or not . . .
Her phone rang and she reached for it.
Boyd.
Despite herself, she felt a thrill in her belly at the sight of his number. Her lips tightened, and her voice was terse when she answered.
“Hayden?” he said, after the slightest of pauses. “Did I catch you at a bad time? Should I call back?”
She pressed a hand to her temple. Her reaction wasn’t his fault, and she shouldn’t be taking her conflicted emotions out on him. She let go of it. “No, now’s good. What’s up?”
“I just got the calling record detail from Josh’s cell phone carrier.”
“Oh, that’s fantastic!”
“I’ll be meeting with Detective Morgan later this morning so we can start identifying the outgoing numbers and following up.”
“How far back did they go?”
“I asked for six months. Morgan and I will have our work cut out for us.”
She pushed her newspaper away and sat back in her chair. “I imagine a bunch of them are going to be me, you, and your parents, so you’ll be able to eliminate a lot.”
“Yeah, like eighty or ninety percent from the look of this.”
“I’m so glad to hear this, Boyd. Hopefully this means you’re close to finding out what Josh learned. In a matter of hours or days, you could know who your birth mother was.”
“That’s the hope. And if we can establish that, it’ll hopefully shed light on who might not have wanted that information unearthed.”
“I’m so excited for you.”
“Don’t get too excited,” he cautioned. “If the critical contact was made in person, all these phone records might not mean a damn. Or if the contact that broke the case for Josh was an incoming call, we could still be in the dark. They don’t give us the numbers for any of the incoming stuff.”
“Privacy legislation?”
“Yup. It would take a court order to get them to cough up that stuff.”
“Well, I prefer to believe you’re going to find your answer in those records. Or maybe something that will lead to something that will let you get that court order.”
“Amen to that,” he said in heartfelt tones. “I’ll finally be
doing
something.”
She heard his frustration, knew how anxious he was at the lack of progress. “Exactly. If you’re out there following those numbers, poking at stuff, tugging at strings, you never know what might come loose, right?”
“Tugging at strings?” A teasing note had crept into his voice, and her heart rate responded accordingly. “You make me sound like a kitten.”
Some kitten.
“Never that.” Then, because the brief silence between them seemed suddenly to pulse with awareness, she rushed to change the topic. “So now that you have the phone records to focus on, maybe you want to cancel tonight?”
“No, I still want to go. There’s always the chance I might learn something helpful, but even if I don’t . . .”
“Even if you don’t, you’ll have shared a beer and probably heard some stories about Josh from his coworkers,” she said.
“Yeah.”
The one word, so softly spoken, made her heart do a little jump. “I’ll warn you, they’re natural storytellers. From the tales I’ve heard when I’ve joined them, I’m pretty sure there’s some embellishment involved.”
He laughed. “I believe it. Josh could spin a little anecdote into a major yarn too.”
“So are you picking me up tonight, or should I meet you there?” she asked briskly.
“Actually, would you mind picking me up?”
“Sure.” She forced a smile into her voice, unsure of whether playing with fire was a good idea. “No problem.”
“Normally, I’d never ask a lady to be the designated driver, but—”
“But I’m no lady?”
He laughed. “I was going to say, depending how things go, I might want to have a few drinks. Keep pace for a couple of rounds.”
“Of course. The more you relax and loosen up, the more they will.”
“That’s the theory.”
“Okay. But again, these are newspaper people we’re talking about. You might have trouble keeping pace with some of them.”
He chuckled again. “Don’t worry—I won’t get sloppy drunk.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Ever see Josh drunk?”
The question caught her by surprise. “Just once. It was very funny.”
“The time he kissed you?”
“Oh, no. I mean, he’d had a few beers that evening, but he definitely wasn’t drunk.”
“So, tell me about this other time. I haven’t seen him more than pleasantly buzzed since we were about twenty-three.”
“It was kind of an accident,” she admitted. “He’d come over for a mini–
Burn Notice
marathon on my day off. I made rumrunners with some Cuban rum a friend brought back for me. I wasn’t drinking myself because I was taking acetaminophen for a sinus headache, and combining the two can be an invitation to liver failure.”
“I see where you’re going. You had no idea how strong the rum was?”
“Not a clue. But by the time the credits rolled after the last episode, I was sore from laughing.”
“So did you pour him into a cab and send him home?”
She snorted. “To Sylvia Stratton’s house in that condition? How heartless do you think I am? He crashed on the couch.”
There was another of those silences. Instantly, she imagined what it would be like if Boyd ever crashed at her place. Somehow, she knew he wouldn’t be sleeping on her tasteful beige sofa. The thought sent sparklers of excitement erupting everywhere.
Maybe she should break her rule.
Actually, it wouldn’t even be breaking it, would it? She’d sworn not to get entangled with a man again until she was ready for the demands of a relationship. But if she got together with Boyd, it wouldn’t be an entanglement. He’d be Toronto bound the minute his investigation was over.
“So, pick me up tonight?” he said.
“Be ready at five thirty,” she said.
She’d do what she could to try to help Boyd find out more about Josh’s death.
And if he made a pass at her after he’d “relaxed” with a few drinks? For the first time in years, she had absolutely no idea how she would handle that.
The thought was as arousing as it was scary.