HER

It’s near the end of the day and the last straggler of my weekly genealogy group finally leaves. I lean back into my chair, utterly exhausted. I’m thankful for the busy day though, or else I’d have spent it watching the clock, waiting for the day to end, and my evening to start... with him.

Not that I allow myself too much time, but in the rare moment my imagination runs away with itself before I have a chance to stop it, the day dream involves him, picking me up from work, and us spending time together, doing nothing, doing everything. In those moments, it takes me a long time to remember the last time I felt as safe and at peace as I did this morning, just sitting in the limo watching him work.

“Uhhh,” I grunt as I push myself away from the big wooden desk in the meeting room and stroll back to my office carrying an armful of books.

“Hey, you done?” Harriet asks as she packs up her desk, throwing away yet another rotten apple from her drawer.

“Yeah. Good group today. Found out some cool stuff.” I refer to one of the group’s discovery about her ancestors.

“Any more Zac Efron relations?”

“Unfortunately not. Just a hairy, pillaging Viking. Still cool though.”

“Sure. Hey, it’s 5:56,” she points out.

“Okay... thanks?”

“You have two minutes to get ready to go home.”

“What are you rambling about?” I reply, as if I don’t know exactly what time it is and exactly what it implies.

“Well, Superman he said to be ready to go at 5:58 p.m.”

“Er no, Myst-, er, Kaine said he’d be here at 5:58 p.m. You said I’m finished working at 6 p.m, so he can just damn well wait.”

“Yes, I damn well can,” he says from the doorway.

And there’s something about the way the light streams through the dusty window and hits his face, accentuating the high bridge of his nose and the clear, deep, crystal blue of his eyes that makes me lose my balance. I sink into my chair to mask my stumble but I don’t take my eyes off him. In all my neuroses, in all my worry about myself, my brother, his scars, his past, I’d never let it sink in, just how handsome he was.

Breathtakingly so.

“Mr. Ashley!” Harriet says, getting up to stand next to me, nudging me hard with her elbow against the side of shoulder.

“Wha? Stop nudging me!” I scowl at her. “What do you want?”

Her eyes bulge out at me and I deliberately ignore the signs she’s trying to give me.

“I don’t want anything, but maybe you shouldn’t be keeping Mr. Ashley waiting, he did come to pick you up just to make sure you get home safely.” Her defence of him grates at me. Maybe because it comes off as flirting and the searing heat of possessiveness rises up my throat.

“Maybe you’re the one I need protection from, sheesh. Put some cream on those elbows when you get home,” I taunt her, while secretly feeling guilty at the betrayal of my best friend because of a man.

She covers her mouth as a small gasp slips from her lips. “Bitch,” she mumbles under her breath.

I turn to Kaine and he looks confused by the exchange.

I grab my bag and swing it, pretending to accidentally whack Harriet across the arm. She jumps out of the way and grins at me, giving me a wink that makes me bite down a laugh.

“I’m going now. My bodyguard is waiting!” I say and walk out of the office, purposely swaying my hips dramatically and slamming the door behind me.

Kaine catches up with me and clears his throat as we get to the front entrance.

“That was... interesting. I thought she was your friend.”

“She is, she’s my best friend,” I tell him, and I laugh at the confused look he gives me.

I reach for the door and he blocks me.

“Wait,” he says, and pushes the door half open and steps through it, looking up and down the street. After a moment he opens the door wide for me and grabs me gently by the arm.

“Car,” he says and gestures with a tip of his head to Henry standing by the double-parked limo with the car door open. He guides me towards it and helps me slide into the seat before closing the door softly behind me. He slides in from the other side and waits for Henry to get in.

“Where to, Mr. Ashley?” he asks Kaine, who looks at me.

“Are you hungry, Jade?”

A rumble of my stomach reveals the traitorous nature of my stomach.

He tips his head back and laughs, and I want the sound to go on forever.

“That’s a yes from your stomach,” he chuckles, and I’m a little taken aback by his good mood.

“But I don’t want to cook. And I don’t want to do dishes,” I whine, laying my head back on the leather headrest.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered,” he says, winking at me with his right eye, and a little tiny firecracker explodes in the pit of my stomach. This is ridiculous. I need to get this crush-like behavior under control.

“What do you mean?” I say, pushing down the urge to giggle like I’m 15 and he’s the star quarterback.

“You’ll see,” is all he gives me. And I know by now not to bother pressing him for more. “To my spot, please, Henry,” he leans forward and says to his driver.

“Right away, sir,” the driver says and I catch a little something in his voice. Amusement? Surprise?

The momentum of the car speeding into traffic pushes my whole body back and there’s a gentle vibration on the seat that starts to massage me.

“Ohhh,” I moan, feeling the tension ease from my shoulders and close my eyes, my hands loosening on my handbag strap as I feel it thump to the floor.

“Long day?” Kaine asks, a little dent in his forehead.

“Um, long,” I shrug, closing my eyes to enjoy the massage. “But good.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I found a long-lost relative of a pillaging Viking.”

“Does she know where any of her ancestor’s gold is hidden?”

“Probably in your closet,” I tease him, and open one eye.

He’s grinning and he sits back, one hand hanging onto the grab-handle, the other picking at a piece of lint on his knee. I try to ignore the way his bicep bulges under his shirt.

“What about you?” I ask, realizing I know nothing about what he does for work. He’s mentioned going to work, but he obviously doesn’t need to.

“It was a great day,” he answers and there’s a happy tone in his voice I haven’t heard before.

“Oh, why?”

“Because I had something to look forward to, Jade,” he catches my eye as he says it, and the single firecracker in the pit of my stomach becomes the sky on the Fourth of July. I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t think it’s happening to just me.

“Oh.”

We say nothing for the rest of the car ride.

***

I wasn’t born in New York state. I was born in Harrisonburg, Virginia. My childhood was filled with views of college buildings, woodland trails and forested mountains nearby. Not skyscrapers and engineering feats built to link one side of the Hudson with the other.

But when I got my current job, there was no question I was going to move to Manhattan. Permanently. It was the home I never knew I missed.

Nature is wonderful for hikes and picnics.

But it’s the cityscapes that make my blood run hot and fast.

Henry drives over the bridge and twists and turn along the narrow streets of Brooklyn for some time before we come to stop outside what looks like a small abandoned factory, down near the docks, right on the river. It’s already starting to darken out, and I can’t say it looks all that safe.

“Where are we?” I ask, not sure whether or not to get out of the car. Kaine doesn’t say anything and just gets out of the car.

I look out the window again and it still looks a bit ominous, so I reach down to grab my handbag and hug it to my chest. The car’s rocking, and I realize Kaine’s taking something out of the trunk. I crane my next to see out the rearview window, but the open trunk lid is blocking my view.

Curiosity gets the better of me and I move to open the limo door.

Kaine is suddenly there, though, and takes my hand to help me out.

In my excitement, I take a step, rolling my ankle on a stray pebble, and I fall against his chest.

“Careful,” he whispers. And the vibration of his voice spreads through my entire body. He helps me steady myself and smiles before asking, “You ready?”

And in that moment, I know would follow him anywhere.

“Let’s go, Miss Sinclair!”

He pulls on my hand and leads me up a rattly, rusted fire escape staircase up the side of the red brick factory building.

It’s four or five stories high, and I’m out of breath by the time we reach the top.

Breath is forgotten, though, when I see the view lying out in front of me.

The sun is feeling heavy and tired in the sky, and the horizon is threatening rain. The bright blue sky of the day is blending and swirling into the sweetest pinks and somberest purples I’ve ever seen. A kaleidoscope of pastels, juxtaposed against the dramatic highs and falling dips of the Manhattan skyline.

“Wowwwwwwwww,” I sigh. “It’s just...”

“Absolute perfection,” he finishes for me.

I turn to him and the view is just as magnificent.

He’s pulled his hoodie back and the sunset is reflected in his eyes.

“Welcome to my spot,” he says, then reaches a hand around my waist, pulling me against him, and presses his lips against mine.

Perfection.