Bing!
Really?
Eli had been trying to review and make notes on the report Reese had sent him for the last hour, but his inbox chime had been working overtime. Not just today—he’d been flooded for the last four days.
Isabella was no longer sitting at his dining room table intercepting his messages for him. And the reason she wasn’t here intercepting his messages for him was because he’d been nothing but impossible to deal with since they’d met.
Friday had been a turning point for her. He didn’t blame her for bailing. He didn’t know if he would’ve respected her if she’d continued to take his shit without pushing back. He knew what he wanted from her but couldn’t get over the idea that it was completely unfair to keep her close when he was so…unhealed.
You don’t deserve her.
Didn’t he know it.
His desk phone rang and he lifted it to his ear. “Reese, I’m working on it. I will have it to you as soon as possible.”
“You sound chipper,” came his brother’s droll response.
“Yeah, well, my assistant hasn’t showed up for four days, so I’m buried.” Reese couldn’t see him, but Eli gestured to the pile that had collected on his desk anyway.
“Four days? I wondered why I kept getting e-mails from you instead of Isabella. I also know you’re busy with the charity, too. Do you how I know that?”
Smartass. Eli didn’t speak.
“Because your girlfriend told me.”
“I was there.” Eli huffed like a perturbed lion.
“You have my full support, Eli. You should have told me about the charity sooner.”
Guilt stabbed his diaphragm. This kind of guilt, he wasn’t as familiar with. His brothers and father had been relying on him and he’d proven himself borderline disloyal by keeping secrets. And yet they accepted him.
Eli never should have expected less. Crane men had always been all for one and one for all.
“I appreciate it,” he said, his voice low. “Before Isa left, she’d put feelers out for a manager to take over Refurbs.” She’d found two qualified candidates, but that was the last he’d heard. He assumed she would let him know if there were further developments, but now…maybe not. Maybe she was legitimately pissed at him and would gladly let him flounder.
That’s what he’d been doing without her here: floundering. Not only because he was swamped with work, but also because he’d grown used to sharing lunch with her, and having conversations with her, and listening to her heels click along his floors.
And because you miss the way her laugh echoed down the hall. The smell of her hair when she leaned over you for a kiss hello or goodbye. The way she sighed into your ear when you touched her just right.
Yeah. All of that. And now she wasn’t here. Which was his fault, no big surprise there.
“…would appreciate your presence at tonight’s board meeting,” Reese was saying.
“I suck at dealing with people, Reese,” Eli bellowed. “Isn’t it obvious? Why do you keep insisting I come back to Crane to be around them?” Silence lingered on the line and Eli knew it wasn’t because Reese didn’t know how to respond. No, his brother knew what to say. He was debating how to say it.
Finally, he did.
“Because you belong here, Eli.” His tone was hard and warm at the same time. “I want you there. Dad wants you there. Tag told me when we left your place Friday that the more he pictures Crane Hotels without you, the more wrong it feels.”
Dammit.
“I don’t need a guilt trip.” But his comment held no venom. It was more of a chagrined mumble. He was behaving petulantly and his family, as always, had his back.
“No, you don’t. You seem to have mastered piling it on your shoulders without anyone else’s help.” Reese waited a few seconds before adding, “Why hasn’t Isa been back in four days?”
“Because I pushed her away.” Eli sat back in his chair and tossed his pen onto the desk, feeling the weight of that admission. It was the first time he’d said it aloud. “She came to console me and I acted like an ass.”
“Sounds familiar.”
Eli could tell by Reese’s self-deprecating tone he was referring to himself. His brother had had a few moments of “assery” when it’d come to winning back Merina. Good thing she was a strong woman.
Like Isa.
Was Isa strong enough to accept Eli’s apology and forgive him?
“Anyway, I can’t attend tonight’s board meeting and go to Sable Concierge to get my assistant back, now, can I?” Eli mumbled.
“I guess not.” Eli could hear the approval in his brother’s voice.
“The least I can do is apologize for behaving badly.”
“The very least,” Reese said flatly.
When Eli pictured her, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t fall into those deep brown eyes or get towed in by her full, plush mouth. He needed her, and as much as he’d like to think he needed her only for business, that wasn’t the whole truth. He needed her because she was an amazing person who made him a better one.
“I’d tell you to take flowers,” Reese said, “but that was always the kiss goodbye for me.”
“I swear I don’t know how you talked any woman into going out with you.” His brother used to date using a one-and-done rule of thumb. Eli was never able to disconnect enough to be “done” after one night. It normally took several for the fascination to go away—but it always went away.
Except where Isa was concerned. Eli thought of her often, missed her. Wanted her.
“We all fuck up, but there’s a way back,” Reese said pragmatically. “Look at Tag. Mr. Fast and Loose towed in by a cute, tiny blonde who made him want commitment. He never saw Rachel coming.”
“Right, because the Cranes are allergic to long-term relationships.” Except someone had found the antidote because here they were—Dad, Reese, and Tag all in long-term relationships.
“It makes sense. Because of Mom.”
“You can keep your Freudian theories to yourself. My reasons for not settling down or getting married—twice”—Eli added snidely—“or coupling off like the rest of you seem content to do are more deep-seated.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Anything else?” Eli asked before Reese asked about those more deep-seated reasons.
“Good luck,” Reese said, then added, his tone sharper, “I mean with the report I sent over. Getting your assistant back isn’t about luck—it’ll take a miracle after how many of her PAs you fired. I hope she comes back for my sake. Your typos are horrendous.”
“Merina brought out your comedic side,” Eli said. “I don’t like it.”
Reese let out a small laugh and Eli signed off. He took another look at the piles on his desk. When Isabella was here, there were no stacks. She was virtually paperless, which was a skill he hadn’t honed.
Were she here, she would’ve interrupted him by now to refill his coffee, and hers. Three empty mugs sat forlornly on his desk. He liked wandering out of his office, looking over, and seeing her bent over her laptop at his dining room table.
He liked her here.
Not because the house was big and empty without her…
But because he was.
With her, he’d caught a glimpse of who he used to be before his life was turned upside down. When he’d become a man and was able to handle the loss of his mother in a healthy way instead of holing up in his bedroom and scribbling his morose thoughts into a notebook. He felt fifteen years old again—lost in the darkness…No, not lost. Locked. Like he’d put himself there on purpose. To spare everyone else his coming unhinged.
“Enough,” Eli said to himself, closing his hands over his face before sweeping them through his hair. Hands laced at the back of his head, he stared blindly at the e-mail attachment Reese had sent and thought about why he really wanted Isa back here.
Not because of reports or paperwork or coffee refills. He wanted her back because for the first time in his life, he’d found someone with the key. He’d tried to lock himself away but she’d come for him. Literally come for him—into his bedroom, yes, but there was another part of him she’d unlocked.
His heart.
The part of him that had always been partially sealed.
Was he brave enough to give Isa every part of him? Not yet, but maybe he could be in the future. That possibility intrigued and frightened him. That it existed at all was a miracle.
Right now he’d stay in the present. If she was willing to have him in the here and now, he could find his way out of the emotional prison he’d barred himself into.
If he could convince her to give him one more chance.
* * *
A block from Isa’s building, phone to his ear, Eli slowed and slipped into the left lane as Zach relayed details about the latest Refurbs project for a double-amputee soldier who had four kids. Four fucking kids.
Hearing those stories never got easier. It’s why Eli created an outlet to provide assistance. He couldn’t hear about it and do nothing.
He turned left onto the road where Sable Concierge was located. The report he reviewed for Reese took longer than expected, so Eli had missed his afternoon goal by several hours. Eli settled for driving out here at nearly nine at night instead, hoping that late was better than never.
Either Isa was upstairs in her apartment or downstairs at work, and if she wasn’t, he’d turn around and go home. He wasn’t going to call. He didn’t know how mad she was or how much madder she’d gotten, but he was certain a phone call would equal an ignored call.
“They’ll frame it out tomorrow,” Zach was saying, after describing the addition to the home.
“Good deal. Hey, I have to go. Call me tomorrow if you need me.”
“No, we’re good. Just checking in. Later, man.”
“Thanks, Zach.” Eli ended the call, half amused that at one point he’d been worried about Isa dating the guy. Now that Eli knew her, he knew Zach wasn’t the right fit for her.
“Oh, and you are?” he asked himself, shutting off the car and getting out.
He wasn’t. But he was trying to be worthy of her. He had a long climb ahead of him.
After knocking a few times on the front door of Sable Concierge and determining she wasn’t in the darkened office space, he headed across the lot to her apartment…and confronted a tall staircase.
Looked like his long climb started here.
* * *
Isa was reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra when someone knocked at her door. Frowning, she hastily tucked her silk shirt into her skirt and fluffed her hair. Most likely it was Chloe, but on the off chance another employee had come up here, she wasn’t about to answer the door braless and disheveled.
She parted the curtain over her living room window and froze in place. There on her landing stood Eli Crane. He waved, a brief lift of one hand before propping it on his hip again.
He looked sure and strong standing there, and so unexpected, her heart leapt.
Stupid heart.
She fortified herself before opening the door. She couldn’t let him know how much she’d missed him. Not until he’d earned it.
“Eli. It’s late.”
“I know. I got here an hour ago. Damn stairs.”
She turned her head to take in each and every step leading up to her apartment.
“That was a joke.”
She said nothing, only stood with her hand on the knob.
“A bad one, evidently.” Eli palmed the back of his neck and took a deep breath. “I came by to apologize for acting like an ass.”
“No need,” she said curtly, determined to show her heart who was boss. If she left her heart in charge, she’d have already invited him in, or at least softened at the look of boyish chagrin on his face. If she listened to her heart, she might be reminded that Eli had suffered loss over and over and over again and his mood shifts were understandable and—when he admitted he was in the wrong—forgivable.
“You deserve better,” he said, and this time he didn’t take his eyes off hers. “Better treatment from a client and better treatment from a lover. I’ve never been great at this stuff, and as you’ve recently proven, I’ve become even worse—”
“Eli,” she couldn’t help interrupting. What he was saying wasn’t solely true. Plus, she wasn’t going to make him have this conversation in her doorway. “Do you want to come in?”
“No. I want to go out. With you.”
“Now?”
“Please?”
“Please?” Her lips widened into a grin. “You were the last person I expected when I opened this door, Eli Crane. I couldn’t imagine you coming here to apologize, let alone beg.”
“Desperate times.” Half his mouth slid into a cautious smile.
“Do you mind if I change out of my work clothes?”
“Take your time.” Eli cast a glance at the staircase. “I’ll start heading down the stairs now. Maybe I’ll be at the bottom by the time you’re ready.”
She tsked her disapproval at his joke, but before she could say more, he stepped forward, cupped her nape, and covered her lips with a soft kiss. Her eyes were still closed when he stroked the side of her neck with his thumb.
When she opened them, she met his concerned deep blues.
“I’ll make it up to you, Sable. I promise.”
She nodded, overcome by the courage it’d taken him to come here. To face the stairs, yes, but also to face her. Not only did he admit to being wrong, but in his own way, he admitted that he didn’t want to be without her.
She shut the front door as Eli started down the staircase. His pace was faster than he’d let on, but he was obviously working hard to navigate. As gestures went, his was significant. He’d pushed past his own barriers and comfort zones for her.
“Not bad, Eli Crane,” she said to herself as she headed to her bedroom. “Not bad at all.”
* * *
Eli reached the bottom of the stairs faster than he’d climbed them, that was for damned sure. Catching his breath at the bottom, he felt better about himself for having tackled them. Maybe he should make climbing part of his training. He could come here and practice a few times a week. He bet he could get faster.
Deep in thought and inspired by the idea of a new challenge, Eli walked to his car, head down as he pulled his keys from his pocket. He’d parked closer to the entrance of Sable Concierge, so walking to the car took him away from the staircase by about fifty feet.
Which was probably why Sable’s voice sounded distant when her scream pierced the air.
Fear wrapped around him like a length of rope, adrenaline dumping into his bloodstream by the gallon as he turned to run back to where she was.
Only he couldn’t run. He had the wrong fucking prosthetic on. Not the Gazelle, made for running, but his normal everyday walking foot.
She came into view a few sweaty seconds later and the sight almost stopped his heart. A man wearing a ski mask and gloves, covered head to toe in black, took one look at Eli, who was stalking at top speed toward him, thrust Isa to the side, and raced off at a full run.
Eli, muscles corded and taut, took a few bounding steps before freezing in place, knowing a chase would be futile. He cursed himself for not having a weapon on his person—he hadn’t bothered with his concealed carry since he’d returned home—as he watched as the figure grew smaller and smaller in the alleyway before turning right and disappearing altogether.
His heart slammed his chest, his fists balled, his blunt fingernails cutting into his palms. He was reminded that he needed to take a breath when his vision blurred. Isa’s delicate voice sliced into his brain a second later.
“Eli.”
The rush of adrenaline faded, and with it came a penetrating fear. For Isa. For what could have happened. And God help that asshole if he’d put a scratch on her.
Eli strode back to where she stood, her purse hanging open, the contents of her bag scattered on the ground beside her. She lifted a shaky hand to her hair as she pushed it behind one ear.
“Who was that?” he growled. “Tell me you had some clue.” Any description could help the cops.
“I…” Her face crumpled and she shook her head, her hair a mess and hanging in front of her beautiful face.
Shit, he was being insensitive. At ease, soldier. As much as he wanted to be able to describe the man who’d attacked her to the police, and as frustrated as he was that he couldn’t chase the attacker down on foot and beat him to a bloody pulp, Isa was his priority.
That became clear the second he wrapped her in his arms. Fragile and soft, she folded into him, burying her face in his shirt, her hands wrapped around the lapels of his leather coat. He shushed her, stroked her hair and back, and kissed the top of her head. She was safe now and that’s what mattered.
“Sable. I’m here.”
Her breaths were shallow, but she didn’t cry. After she loosened her hold on him, he felt safe to step away, having calmed down himself. Then he spotted the tear in her sweater along the low, scooped neck, her bra showing and blood dotting down the front.
“What the…” He cradled Isa’s face in his hands, and searched the rest of her for injury. No cuts. “Where are you bleeding? What the fuck did he do?” He ran his hands gingerly over her shoulders and down her arms.
“I’m not hurt.” Isa sniffed. “He grabbed me and I kneed him in the nuts and then elbowed him in the nose.” She showed him her elbow, where another blood spot stained her white sweater. Her arm shook like outdoor chimes on a windy day. “He was a bleeder.”
“You were in the process of kicking his ass?” Eli asked, stunned.
“He’s lucky you showed up.” One half of her mouth lifted into a weak smile. She started to bend over and pick up the items from her purse, but he held her elbow to keep her from it.
“I’ve got it.” He gathered everything that had spilled out, her intact wallet and spare change littering the ground, and put it back into her bag. Then he lifted the other strap onto her shoulder. “Didn’t look like he got anything.”
“He didn’t.”
He liked that she was able to get in a few good jabs as much as he hated that he wasn’t able to get in a few himself. “Let’s get you inside.”
He followed her upstairs, a niggling, sickening feeling that the guy attempting to take her purse could have done more than rob her. It heated the blood in Eli’s veins to boiling and made him that much more pissed about his inability to hunt down the bastard and smash his face in.
Eli’s ascent was slower than hers, which was good because he talked himself down as he walked up. She would benefit more from his calm presence than his unhinged anger. Isa unlocked her door and let herself in, holding it open for him. When he entered her apartment, she took out her phone and dropped her purse on the couch.
She stared at the screen, her fingers hovering before she looked up at him. “I don’t know the number for the police.”
Shock. He could see it. He had seen it a million times on hundreds of faces, and he had suffered from it personally.
“I’ll call. You sit.” He took her phone and tipped her chin. Her eyes were blank, her teeth worrying her lip. “Sable?”
Her lashes fluttered.
“You’re okay now.”
“I know.” She swallowed, her throat moving as her eyebrows bowed. She looked delicate with her torn shirt, that asshole’s blood on her clothes.
“They might want the DNA, so you can’t clean up yet. Do you want some water? Tea?”
Her mouth slid to the side. “Do you know how to make tea?”
“Not really.” He slipped his hand beneath her hair and around the back of her neck, massaging until she took a breath that lifted her shoulders and filled her lungs.
“Thank God you were here,” she told him.
But a sick realization took the place of the pride he didn’t deserve feeling. Because the fact of the matter is, this had happened because he was here. If he’d never asked her to come out with him tonight—or if he’d waited for her inside her apartment instead of heading down the stairs…
He wasn’t a hero. He was to blame.
* * *
Isa sat on the very edge of her couch, uncomfortable, mind whirring. Her knee and elbow throbbed from the physical hit, but her mind replayed it on a loop. Her attacker’s arms banded around her, his stale breath and craggy voice.
Don’t fight me, you bitch, or I’ll gut you.
A shudder streamed through her. Who knew the defense class she’d taken with her assistants last year would come in handy for her? Isa was lucky Eli had been here. Sure, she’d resisted, but her attacker was much stronger than she was. She wasn’t sure if he’d have given up if it’d been just her.
What would have happened if she’d been alone?
Another shudder had her reaching for the blanket on the back of her couch. She pulled it to her chin and stared blindly at the coffee table in front of her. At the fitness magazine promising Sexy abs in 3 easy moves!
The older police officer who had questioned her was at the door talking with Eli. He was a big guy with kind green eyes and a thick Chicago accent. He told Eli they’d “be in touch” and the door shut with a click. The next thing she knew, Eli was lowering himself onto the couch next to her, the solid, welcome weight of his arm wrapping around her shoulders.
She was physically fatigued from excitement and fear, yet her mind was overly alert. She had no idea how she was going to sleep tonight.
“I need to shower.” Repeatedly. She’d already changed and had given her sweater to the police officer for evidence, but even now the feel of her attacker’s hands had her skin crawling.
“You can shower at my place.” Eli’s warm, whiskey-smooth voice rolled through her. But she was already shaking her head.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Then I’ll stay here.”
“I can’t run away, Eli. I work downstairs. I live here. I’ll have to come home eventually no matter what I do tonight.”
“It doesn’t mean you can’t come to my house. Sleep in my arms. Shower in my bathroom and dry off with one of my towels.” His gravel-laden voice was gentle, the rough quality not making her feel any less comforted. His hand on her shoulder, he gave her a light squeeze. “Does it?”
The thought of snuggling into him and feeling safe rather than staring at the ceiling all night and listening for strange noises was definitely a better idea.
“Sable.”
She nodded. Just a small nod, but he was already standing and heading into her bedroom. She heard drawers opening, the closet shutting. She curled the blanket around her shoulders and let Eli pack her things without her help.