Chapter Seventeen

Lacie had known better. He’d told her. Simon had been up front about his emotional distance from the beginning—the first kiss. He’d said it was too much.

She was the one who’d pushed. Why was it she was always so attracted to the emotionally unavailable men?

But to hear the words “just a job” was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to listen to. While Dex drove her up the winding hills of Austin to Simon’s house, tears leaked from her eyes. She hated crying. It was a sign of weakness. When people all over had real reasons to shed tears, she was crying over a broken heart.

It wasn’t that she loved Simon. She’d only known him a week. But in that week, she’d thought things about him. Assumed things. She thought they’d grown close. She could predict his moods pretty well, and his broodiness had become endearing. Lacie knew how he took his coffee, what sort of movies he liked, and that he had a particular weakness for chocolate protein shakes. She had a basic understanding of how he’d grown up, and that he’d turned into a strong, independent, kickass man in spite of his pampered upbringing.

She knew she longed for more with him, an opportunity for him to let her inside, and he’d shut her out completely.

Lacie was just a job. A means to an end.

Dex let her into Simon’s house, and she went straight to her room, shutting the door and throwing herself across the plush bed, stark in its lack of color yet unbelievably comfortable.

The comfort was misleading though.

Nothing about this situation was comfortable. She recalled all of Simon’s words. There were others, like her, who had been attacked. She wasn’t the only one. That’s what she should be crying about. There were other women, women who had probably been hurt a lot worse than she had, who were suffering. Women who didn’t have Simon Pierce to protect them, who were at the mercy of whatever madman was behind this.

But no. Her deep, body-wracking sobs were all for her own stupidity in feeling for a man who was incapable of feeling anything for her.

Simon was exhausted by the time he made it home that night. He let himself in and greeted Dex, who was sitting at the bar in the kitchen, drinking a cola from the can. The former police detective looked rough around the edges.

“Bad day with the kiddos?” Simon asked good-naturedly, even though his eyelids felt gritty from lack of sleep. He actually wished he had spent the day with the kindergarten class instead of banging his head against a brick wall at the station.

“I had no idea they could take it out of a person. I have a new respect for teachers,” Dex answered, raking his hand through his hair.

Simon looked at his friend. He’d lost some weight since they’d first met, and the workouts at the office seemed to be redistributing it in other places. His arms and shoulders looked beefier, and his waist looked smaller. His complexion had taken on a healthier look too—less sallow.

“You liking this job, Hollerman?”

“I am. It’s a lot of work, and you’re not much easier to work for than Lieutenant Nguyen, but for some reason, it’s less stressful. I like that.” He motioned to the room where Lacie was staying, and Simon’s gut clenched at what Dex was about to say. “That lady in there, though, is having a hard time with all this. She’s more scared than anybody I’ve ever seen, and after your little temper tantrum at the gym, she’s been crying all damn night. I think she’s finally asleep now.”

Dex’s eyes were soft with understanding at the stress Simon was under, yet the man was obviously trying to send Simon a message. In the month or so since he’d been with Amber, Dex had softened considerably, not flying off the handle at things his new brothers did.

“What’s she crying about?”

“What’s going on with you two?”

Simon hated when someone answered a question with a question. For fuck’s sake, he didn’t like his interrogation tactics used on himself.

“Nothing. Why’s she crying?” He was feeling fiercely protective of Lacie, and if Dex had said something to hurt her, Simon would kick his fucking ass—friend or not.

Hollerman simply shrugged, sliding off his stool. “I imagine she heard you and Bonnie’s conversation at the gym, she was there,” Dex pointed out. “But it sounds like a broken heart to me.” Without another word, he walked out the door, leaving the spare key on the counter beside his empty cola can.

Fucking softy.

That’s right. She had heard that exchange, but he’d been so stuck in his own goddamn head, he hadn’t stopped to fix things.

Did he want to fix things? Or should he just set her straight and stop whatever she thought was happening now?

Listening to the sudden silence of the house, he tried to imagine what her sobs had sounded like. He wished he knew how her pain sounded so he could end this before he hurt her more.

A fissure broke open in his chest.

The pain was real.

Well, she’d been through hell. It was no wonder she was crying. Why did it have to be a broken heart? It was most likely just stress from the attacks, compounded by the explosion last night and no sleep to speak of.

Right?

Simon couldn’t remember a time when he had ever felt less sure of himself. Even with the investigation and very few leads that made sense, he at least had a process to go through. A process he’d been trained to execute and had done for years.

But with Lacie, he was lost.

Dex said she’d started crying after his tantrum at the gym, so he tried to remember exactly what he’d said. Of course, that was hours ago—before the police station visit and all the emotions that had rolled through him at the recitation of the apprehended suspect with the video equipment. He’d been paid by some faceless person to install the equipment at every mirror and television set in the house. Exactly where they’d pulled the old cameras from.

But what did he say at the gym? Something about a relationship with Lacie being professional. What was so wrong about that? He’d said as much to her last night, right before he’d kissed the fuck out of her, and then fingered her, and …

Shit.

He couldn’t go there right now. All it did was put her taste right back on his tongue, make his knees weak with wanting her. He had to fucking focus.

Focus.

Somehow, he would make it up to her this week. He would keep Lacie safe, help her with the kids, and try to be a human being the rest of the time. Lord knows she’d put up with enough of his mood swings to make an elephant dizzy.