CHAPTER SIX
Kelsey eyed Hunt warily in the entryway of the rundown brick building he’d brought her to in the Goose Hollow neighborhood. He’d been acting strange since his meeting with those federal agents. Not worried, exactly, but standoffish, quiet, almost a little cold.
She wasn’t sure what to make of that. She waited while Hunt slid a key into the panel outside the elevator and pushed a button. Had his meeting with the Feds not gone well? Had her brother said something on the phone that had upset him? Or did his demeanor have something to do with the fact she’d kissed him outside the ER?
The elevator doors whooshed open, and Hunt held out a hand for her to enter the small car first. Stepping in, she turned to watch him, hoping for any sign he was stressed over something other than that kiss.
The elevator jolted as if it were a hundred years old, then hummed as it began to move. She didn’t want to think he could be upset over that; after all, he was the one who’d kissed her earlier in the day. Kissed her so thoroughly she could still feel that kiss smoldering in her toes. But the truth was . . . she couldn’t be entirely sure. Before today, she hadn’t spent a whole lot of time with Hunt one-on-one. And even though they’d both been through a pretty traumatic experience and they’d each pretty much bared their souls to each other in that rubble, the reality was . . . she didn’t know him that well. Definitely didn’t know his moods or how to read him.
Her mind skipped back to stumbling out of that rubble and seeing him. She’d been so relieved he was all right that she’d all but thrown herself at him. And when he’d grabbed her and looked down, she’d instantly lifted her mouth to his. But what if he hadn’t been trying to kiss her then? What if he hadn’t even planned to hug her? He was a protective guy—heck, he protected people for a living. What if he hadn’t been reaching for her at that moment for no other reason than to steady her because he’d seen her wobbling toward him?
A hiss sounded, but she barely noticed. Had she totally misread him? Was she the one who’d forced that kiss? If that were the case, then yeah, her kissing his cheek at the hospital would totally make a guy like him standoffish.
“Kels? You okay?”
Startled by Hunt’s voice, she swallowed and fought back the nausea. “Yes. Why?”
“Because we’re here, and you haven’t moved.”
Blinking, she realized he was holding the elevator door open for her. Feeling like an idiot, she stepped forward on shaky legs. Then faltered when she noticed the twinkling Portland skyline in the wall of dark windows across the vast room and realized the elevator opened right into his apartment—his huge, loft-style apartment—not a hallway like she’d expected.
“Oh my.” Wide eyed, she took in her surroundings. The old building in the southwest hills had nearly a complete view of downtown Portland. The walls were brick, with old steel beams that looked as rugged as Hunt littered throughout the space. An enormous kitchen decked out in more stainless steel opened to her left. To her right an entire home gym was set up, complete with free weights, bench press, chin-up bar, speed bag, and a treadmill. Ahead, the main portion of the room housed the living space—a gigantic flat-screen TV over a modern fireplace; an enormous U-shaped sectional and a few leather chairs; a variety of dark wood tables; a tall ficus tree that was clearly well cared for; and two vast paintings on the walls—one of a gorgeous beach house set on a cliff overlooking an ocean, the other of what she thought might be the Tuscan countryside.
The apartment was modern, masculine, and not at all what she’d expected. And even though the outside looked rundown and shabby, the inside was top-of-the-line everything.
“This is amazing.” She stepped farther into the room, still unable to believe he lived here. On the top floor. “And big. You live here all alone?”
“Yeah. This is the only apartment in the building. I guess you could say I like my privacy.” He stepped past her, moved through the massive living space, and headed for a door off to the right, not far from the wall of windows. “This is the guest room.” He pushed the door open and reached inside to flip on a light. “I’m sure you’re dying to take a shower. There are fresh towels in the guest bath. I’ll get a clean pair of sweats and a T-shirt and leave them on the bed for you to change into. If you need something else, just holler.”
He headed for another door on the far side of the room that seemed to match the one he’d left open for her.
“Wait.” She looked after him. “The only apartment? You mean, no one else lives anywhere in this building?”
“Nope. Just me.”
“How?”
“Because I own the building. Take a shower, and we’ll talk later if you still want to.”
He disappeared into the master bedroom, and she moved into the guest room, more confused than she’d been before. She knew he owned his own company, but Alec had never said anything about his owning an entire building.
The guest room was just as nice as the main room, with a plush queen bed, two end tables, a dresser, a club chair in the corner, and another vast view of the twinkling city. Moving into the guest bath, she flipped on the shower and peeled out of her filthy clothes, hoping she wasn’t leaving too much grime behind on his spotless floor. As she stepped under the warm spray, she closed her eyes and tipped her head back so the water could wash away her worries. But it didn’t. It only made her think about Hunt again. About this place. About the fact she knew virtually nothing about the man who’d saved her life today. And that meant it was absolutely possible she’d completely misread his intentions when she’d stumbled out of that rubble and forced that kiss that had rocked her world.
By the time she finished her shower, her skin was pink and wrinkly, but her brain was still completely scrambled. Wrapping herself in a plush taupe towel, she moved into the cushy bedroom with its dark wood furnishings and looked down at the sweats and T-shirt Hunt had left for her on the bed.
The sweats were nothing fancy, just the traditional heather-gray men’s variety she knew would be too big. But the T-shirt brought a smile to her face. Printed in white letters across the front of the blue shirt, it said, “Make Portland Weirder.”
She fingered the soft cotton, knowing Julian would have died before he’d own a T-shirt like this. And he definitely wouldn’t have suggested she wear something so silly. But instinctively she knew Hunt had picked this of all his shirts for her because it would make her smile.
She glanced toward the closed bedroom door, her belly warming at the simple act of kindness. Did she know him? She thought back over everything they’d shared today. She wanted to know him. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Knew she was second-guessing herself. Knew she was awful at relationships and completely out of practice with what was normal and healthy and rational when it came to the way men acted. And she could think of only one way to find out the truth.
Dropping her towel on the bed, she pulled the T-shirt over her head and tugged the sweats up her legs. As she’d expected, both were too big, but she was able to roll the waistband down on the sweats several times to make them stay up. One look in the mirror told her today was not the day to worry about her looks. Her cheek was scraped, and a nice purple bruise was forming across her jaw. She didn’t remember getting hit in either spot, but things had happened so fast in the dark, she’d barely been paying attention.
Every limb was stiff, and she was sore in places she didn’t know a person could be sore. She knew she’d likely find other bruises all over her body, but she didn’t want to waste time looking. After finger-combing her hair, she headed for the door, intent on facing Hunt and figuring out just what was going on between them once and for all.
The enormous TV was tuned to a national station as she entered the living room, the volume on low, but she didn’t need to hear the anchor’s words to know what he was reporting. Images of the destruction in Portland flashed across the screen, followed by numerous filthy and bloodied bodies being pulled from the rubble.
Her stomach pitched all over again, but she was unable to look away from the carnage. Slowly, she lowered herself to the edge of the ottoman across from the TV as she stared at the screen. Memories of being trapped in that pitch-black rubble bombarded her from every side and sent a shiver down her spine. But seeing it from the outside . . . A surreal feeling floated around her, knowing she’d been underneath all that broken concrete and twisted metal.
“No, same number.” Hunt’s voice echoed from his open bedroom door, but Kelsey didn’t turn to look. “I already switched everything online to the new phone. Yeah, convenience of having a closet full of phones for just this kind of situation.” He hesitated, then said, “Yeah, I’ll talk to her when she finishes showering.”
He’d moved into the living room and was staring at her. She could see him from the corner of her eye with a phone to his ear, but she still couldn’t turn to look at him. Didn’t even catch whatever else he said into his phone when he lowered his voice because all she could suddenly hear was the newscaster’s words echoing in her ears.
“So far two are confirmed dead, but officials expect that number to rise as the night goes on.”
Her stomach twisted tighter, and she swallowed the bile rising in her throat.
Hunt leaned down to pick up the remote from the coffee table in front of her. “You shouldn’t be watching thi—”
“No, don’t.” She lifted her hand to block him from pointing it at the screen. “Leave it on. Please.”
He frowned. But she still didn’t look at him.
“Authorities as of yet have no confirmed suspects in custody, and no known terrorist groups have taken responsibility for what most officials think was a bomb.”
“You don’t need to listen to the spin on this,” Hunt muttered, still holding the remote. But he didn’t make any move to flip the TV off. And seconds later the ottoman cushion dipped as he sat beside her and looked toward the horror unfolding on the screen.
They watched in silence for at least twenty minutes, and only when the station went to a commercial did Hunt finally flip the television off.
Even with the screen black, Kelsey could still see the destruction. Could still hear the sirens. Could still feel the bitter cold deep in her bones in that darkness. Two confirmed dead . . . She blinked rapidly, trying like hell not to envision the blood that had been all over Hunt’s pants when she’d realized he was injured. It could have been him. It could have been them. She’d spent all this time worrying about kisses that meant nothing when people were hurt. Suffering. When they were dead.
“Hey.” Hunt’s arm slid around her shoulder, tugging her against the warmth of his chest. “You have to focus on the positive, Kels, not all the bad shit they’re reporting. Every hour, rescue workers are pulling people alive from that rubble. They’ll find everyone. They’ll catch whoever did this, I promise. Terrorists want you to be scared. That’s the definition of terrorism. Don’t give them what they want. Don’t let them win.”
She knew that but . . . Knowing and believing were two very different things.
She closed her eyes and leaned against him, just for a moment. Let him be the strength she needed as he lightly ran his hand up and down her arm. Told herself to be tough but . . . really liked the way this felt. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually such a mess.”
“I know you’re not. And you have nothing to apologize for.”
“I don’t like being an emotional mess.”
“I know that too,” he said with a smile in his voice. “But cut yourself some slack, okay? You had a really shitty day.”
She wasn’t sure how he knew just what to say to make her feel better, but that one comment eased the tension inside her. “So you think this was a terrorist attack?”
His fingers stilled against her biceps. “It could have been. That’s the logical assumption. That was Callahan on the phone, calling to give me an update. They found evidence that points to a bomb, not a ruptured gas main. Similar to bombs terrorists have set in Europe recently.”
She didn’t want to move away from him, but she wanted to see his eyes when they had this conversation, so she pushed back. “So they don’t think Julian did this?”
Hunt dropped his arm from her shoulder. But he didn’t make any move to scoot away, and she liked that too. “They don’t have any evidence yet that ties him to it. The Feds have been questioning him for hours, and he hasn’t cracked. That doesn’t mean he won’t, but Callahan said they’re leaning away from the theory he was involved.”
Kelsey wanted to be relieved by that fact but wasn’t. Her gaze slid from Hunt’s eyes to the black T-shirt stretched seductively across his chest, then down to the worn jeans on his thighs. She didn’t want to believe Julian could be involved in something so heinous, but she couldn’t shake the feeling what had happened today had somehow been linked to her. The same way she hadn’t been able to shake that feeling of impending doom she’d experienced right before the building had come down.
“How long can they keep him in custody? Until they know for sure if it was him?”
“No. Without probable cause they can only hold him for about twenty-four hours.”
Which meant by tomorrow this time, if not sooner, he’d be out on the streets. She turned back toward the black screen and told herself he wouldn’t do anything stupid when he was released. But she hadn’t really expected him to do anything today, and look what had happened when he’d seen her with Hunt.
“Hey.” Hunt’s hand grazed her back, gently tracing the length of her spine. “The cops will figure this out. I have total faith in Callahan. He’s one of the good guys.”
Kelsey didn’t doubt that. She couldn’t see Hunt being friends with someone who wasn’t.
“Even if they can’t hold Benedict, they’ll keep a close eye on him until they know for sure he wasn’t involved. And I promise he won’t get anywhere near you. You’re safe here with me, Kels.”
She knew she was. She was lucky. But what about the other people who’d been caught in that blast?
“I know what I saw on my phone,” she said, trying to convince herself she wasn’t crazy. “It wasn’t a coincidence that the threat came through right before the building went down.”
“I believe you. And they’ll find your phone. Don’t worry. Callahan’s got everyone looking for it.”
She wasn’t sure what good that would do. It had probably been crushed in the collapse.
As quickly as the thought hit, her mind shot to that production assistant who’d ripped the phone from her hand, and her stomach pitched all over again. She had no idea if that woman was alive or dead. Hadn’t even caught her name so she could listen for it on the news.
“In the meantime, I’ve got some burner phones here. I’ll get you set up with one so you don’t feel disconnected from the outside world.”
“Burner phones?”
He smirked. “Techno-toys. Perk of the job.”
A buzzing sounded from the direction of the main elevator before she could ask more, and Hunt dropped his arm from her back and pushed to his feet. “That’s the food I ordered. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
Kelsey didn’t feel like eating. Didn’t think she’d ever feel like eating after this day. But she didn’t say so. She slowly pushed to her feet as Hunt hit a button on what looked like an intercom by the front door, told whoever was downstairs he’d be right there, then grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter and glanced her way.
“I gotta run down and grab it. Why don’t you find something to drink? There’s water, juice, and beer in the fridge. Or you can choose a bottle of wine from the sideboard. I’ll be right back.”
He flashed her a weak smile just as he stepped onto the metal car, and she returned it. But the second the elevator doors closed, her face fell, and alone she glanced around the massive apartment, wondering what the hell was really going on.
If Julian hadn’t set that bomb, then who had? And why had they threatened her just before it had gone off? She was a nobody. She moved toward the sideboard in the dining area and pulled open the bottom cupboard doors. Okay, she could admit she wasn’t a total nobody, not after her fashion debut in New York, but barely a somebody on the scale of famous somebodies. Why would a random terrorist threaten her just before destroying that building if she wasn’t somehow personally involved?
Frustrated at the questions swirling in her head, irritated her emotions kept swinging from one extreme to the other, she stared down at the impressive wine collection in front of her, surprised yet again by what she was seeing. In all the times Hunt had visited his parents’ house or they’d both attended a get-together at Alec’s place, she hadn’t once seen him with a glass of wine in his hand. Beer, yes. But wine? Never.
Since she’d never been good at picking wine, she looked at the labels and spotted one that looked familiar. Setting the bottle on the table, she moved into the kitchen, found two wineglasses in the cupboard, and was just bringing them back when the elevator doors opened and Hunt stepped into the room carrying two white plastic bags.
Her stomach instantly warmed, a reaction she told herself had nothing to do with that crazy kiss earlier that meant nothing and everything to do with simple fact he carried food.
“I wasn’t sure what you felt like eating, so I figured comfort food was the safest bet.” He set the bags on the table, moved around the counter into the kitchen, and grabbed plates and forks.
The sweet and spicy scents of Italian food filled the air. Suddenly ravenous, she pulled at the bag closest to her and flipped the box open and stilled at what she saw.
Hunt’s footsteps sounded close, and he slid a plate near her hand. “I hope I got that right. Spaghetti Bolognese is what you always order, right? There’s lasagna in the other box if you’d rather have that instead.”
He’d remembered. Tears sprang to her eyes again, irrational tears that came out of nowhere. Tears that had nothing to do with what had happened today and everything to do with the fact he’d not only paid attention to what she liked the few times he’d eaten out with her family, he’d remembered.
She blinked rapidly, trying not to let her reaction show. “Yeah. That’s . . . that’s right.”
“Good.” He reached for the wine she’d set on the table and moved into the kitchen with the bottle. “Sit down and start eating while I get this open.”
She slid into a chair, spooned a helping of her favorite dish onto her plate, and lifted a bite toward her mouth. And as she did she tried not to think about how sweet the man currently taking care of her was. How considerate. How unlike Julian and every other guy she’d dated. And how stupid she was for overreacting, overthinking, and just plain overinternalizing everything.
She smiled as he set a glass of wine in front of her and told herself she didn’t care what she knew about him or didn’t, what was normal for him when he was protecting a client or not. She needed this. She needed him tonight. She wasn’t going to worry about looking needy or weak. She was going to let him be her strength for as long as it lasted. And she was going to be thankful that tonight of all nights, she wasn’t alone.
He never should have refilled her wineglass. Definitely shouldn’t have suggested they watch a movie together on the couch after dinner. And absolutely should not have sat close enough for her to lean against him.
Hunt had no idea if Kelsey was awake or asleep against him. All he knew was that her heat was like a furnace pressing against his side, and even though he’d known it was a terrible idea to slide his arm around her to make them both more comfortable, he hadn’t been able to stop. Now he didn’t want to let go.
The credits rolled down the screen. He’d barely caught any of the movie and couldn’t describe the plot even if his life depended on it. The minute Kelsey had leaned against him, his gray matter had short-circuited, and every bit of his focus had zeroed in on her. On how soft her skin was and how hot her body was, on how feminine and sweet and perfect she felt tucked under his arm.
Holy hell, he needed to let go of her. Needed her to go into the guest room and lock the door so he wouldn’t be tempted to give in to every primal urge now circling in his brain. She was his best friend’s little sister. Totally off-limits. He was assigned to protect her. Not screw her into next week.
Fabulous. Thanks to his little internal pep talk, now all he was going to fantasize about was the sounds she made when she came. Way to go, dumbass.
A heavy sigh echoed from beneath his arm, and then she stretched and gently pushed against his chest to peer up at him with a sleepy, sexy-as-hell expression he itched to kiss right off her angelic face. “Is it over?”
“Yeah.” Slowly, so she wouldn’t notice, he tugged the throw pillow across his lap so she didn’t accidentally see what all her sultry heat had done to him. What it was still doing to him. “Just finished.”
She yawned and rubbed her eyes. “I didn’t see how it ended.”
He hadn’t even seen how it began.
He cleared his throat, averting his eyes from her features because she looked delightfully rumpled and all he wanted to do was rumple her up even more. “Why don’t you go on in to bed? I’ll turn everything off out here.”
“Are you sure?”
No, he absolutely wasn’t sure. He could think of a thousand other things he wanted her to do, but none of them were safe.
“Yeah,” he forced himself to say. “Go on.”
She stared at him a moment. Blinked in that sleepy way that told him she was only half seeing him, then smiled weakly and leaned forward. “Thanks.”
Her soft lips brushed his cheek, just as they had outside the ER earlier, and the simple action sent blood screaming right back into his groin.
Her lips were gone way too fast. Before he could even think about pulling her back, she was on her feet and shuffling toward the guest room.
Where she belongs, idiot.
“’Night, Hunter.”
God, he even liked the way she said his name.
“’Night, Kelsey,” he managed.
He waited until he heard her door close. Waited even longer for her to stop moving around in her room. And only when he was confident she was in bed and out for the night did he lean forward and swipe a hand down his overheated face. “You are so fucked, O’Donnell.”
He was. And not in any way he wanted to be.
Shaking that thought off, he pushed to his feet and moved through the apartment, flipping off the TV and lights, cringing at the pain in his leg. Just as he was stepping into his own room, intent on passing out so he wouldn’t be tempted to do any of the dozen things he knew would get him in trouble, his home phone rang. He grabbed it from his nightstand, hoping it was Callahan with an update, then frowned when he recognized the number.
Shit. He wasn’t in the mood to answer, but he knew if he didn’t, she’d only call back. And a twinge of guilt cut through him when he realized he hadn’t even thought of texting her about what had happened today.
Closing his bedroom door, he hit “Answer” and moved toward his bed. “Hey, Genevieve.”
“Oh my God, Hunter! Are you okay? I just found out what happened in Portland. Were you there?”
“Yeah.” He sank down to the end of his bed, wishing like hell he could have just hit “Decline” on his phone even more. “I was there. I was with a client who was about to appear on that morning show when the building collapsed. I’m fine, though.”
“Why the hell didn’t you call me after you were found, you asshole? I had to hear about the bombing from my coworker during my layover this morning! And then I had to see it on the news tonight!”
Two things hit Hunt at once: First, Genevieve had heard the news but hadn’t called to check on him until now—more than twelve hours after the fact. And since he’d talked to her last week, she’d known he had a client scheduled to appear on that show. But secondly—and more importantly—she’d said she’d seen “it” on the news. He wasn’t sure what “it” was, but if “it” had made her suddenly call when she hadn’t been interested before, he had a strong hunch “it” wasn’t just footage of the bombing aftermath. “It” was either him getting into a fist fight with Julian Benedict or him kissing the hell out of Kelsey McClane.
Fuck. He raked a hand through his hair, suddenly wondering who else had seen that damn footage and why the hell he hadn’t stopped to realize there had probably been cameras rolling the minute he’d grabbed Kelsey and kissed her.
“Who was she?” Genevieve asked with a bite to her voice.
Bingo. There it was. He rubbed his suddenly aching temple, wondering why the hell her brothers hadn’t grilled him in the same way when they’d spoken earlier.
“Hunter?”
Dammit, he should have put an end to this no-strings fling he’d had going with Genevieve long ago. The only reason he hadn’t was because he just hadn’t wanted to deal with the drama.
He definitely didn’t want to deal with the drama tonight, especially over the phone, but he also didn’t want to wait a week to do what he should have done months ago.
He dropped his hand to the edge of the bed. “Just a woman who was pulled from the destruction.”
“So just some random woman you were consoling?”
He wasn’t about to get into his relationship with Kelsey with her or anyone else. “We’re not exclusive, Genevieve. You date lots of guys when you’re not with me. I’m sure you even kiss them too.”
“You were kissing? The camera didn’t show that part.”
Holy hell. He bit into his tongue. He was only making things worse now.
“Well,” she said when he didn’t respond. “I guess you’re only human. I can forgive you for that, considering the situation. But I think it’s time we discussed being exclusive.”
No way. This conversation was way past due, and he didn’t care whether doing it over the phone made him an asshole. Waiting would only make him an even bigger one. “No, we don’t need to discuss that. The long-distance thing is too much work.”
She had the audacity to sound shocked when she said, “What are you talking about?”
He worked for patience even though he was close to the end of whatever patience he had left. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. If this thing meant anything to either of us, you would have been down from Seattle as soon as you heard about the accident, and I would have tried to contact you as soon as I was rescued. Neither of us did that, which means it’s not that important. And that’s not a bad thing. It just means . . . it’s run its course.”
“But . . . I would have come down right away, only I was so busy with work. You know I can’t text when I’m on a flight. I could come now, though. I’m off tomorrow. You shouldn’t be alone tonight. I could be there in a few hours.”
Yeah, no. Not happening. The last thing he wanted was her here in his apartment. And that had zero to do with what had happened today and everything to do with the fact he just wasn’t interested anymore.
“We had some fun times together, Gen. Let’s just leave it at that and move on. We both know it’s time.”
She was silent so long he wasn’t sure she’d heard him. Then she said, “You’re wrong. And you’re just reacting like this because of what happened to you today.”
He wasn’t. But he breathed easier knowing she wasn’t crying or getting hysterical or lashing out in anger over the phone. Which was another sign this conversation was way overdue.
“I’m really sorry.” Man, he sucked at endings. Always had. No wonder he was still single.
The best way to be. Safer that way.
“You’ll change your mind,” Genevieve said. “I know you will.”
He wouldn’t. But he didn’t say so. “Thanks for checking on me. I appreciate it. The day’s catching up with me, and I need to crash before I fall asleep on the phone. ’Night, Gen.”
She didn’t respond, and after several seconds of silence, he gave up waiting and just hit “End.”
Tossing his phone on the side chair in his room, he blew out a long breath. Not the conversation he’d wanted to have tonight of all nights, but he couldn’t deny that part of him felt lighter just getting it over with.
He stripped off his T-shirt and tossed it on top of the phone on the chair, then flopped onto his back on his bed without even pulling off his jeans. Was he a total slime because he’d kissed Kelsey earlier in the day when he’d kinda sorta still had something going with another woman? Was he a prick because he’d been thinking nonstop about kissing Kelsey since then? Maybe. Probably, he realized. But both were nonissues since he was never kissing her like that again. The only thing he was going to do was focus on keeping her safe, doing his damn job, and not fucking things up worse with her or her family.
That and figuring out what Benedict was really up to.