Captain Pierce had failed to mention that this unit was an efficiency. The bedroom—if it could even be called that—was right on the other side of the living room and separated only by an old floor screen with tattered cloth panels. The kitchen had about six inches of counter space on either side of a Fifties-style stove beneath a microwave stained yellow from a previous tenant’s tobacco addiction.
At least, I hoped it was a tobacco addiction. Anything harder could leave a place coated in the kind of nasty things you definitely didn’t want to touch.
The single, small bathroom set off from both the living room and bedroom looked snug—or rather, claustrophobic—and included an all-in-one shower and tub combo with a fixed showerhead covered in limescale buildup. The toilet, thankfully, was clean, but it had one of those cushioned seats with little tears in it that reminded me of the nursing home my grandmother had died in.
I ran a hand through my shoulder-length hair and thanked God I’d recently splurged to have it styled at a salon. There was no way I would’ve been able to do it properly in this place. It was going to be a long week.
“Home sweet home,” Nathan mumbled, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.
“I guess so,” I said, looking at the twin-sized bed just beyond the shoddy divider. “You go on and take the bed. I’m good with the couch.”
“Oh, that’s not fair,” Nathan answered, inspecting the floral comforter. “The couch is in better condition!”
I smiled and shrugged, tossing my duffel bag onto the cushions to claim it. “One of the perks of being the girl in charge, I guess. Anyway, it puts me nearest the door in case anything goes wrong, and I can use the window to make sure no more of Wallace’s men come tromping up the stairs without our knowledge.”
“Fair point,” he begrudgingly agreed, setting his own high-end luggage case on the mattress. It groaned in protest. “Well, Candy, given the state of things here, I’d say it’s either takeout or starve.”
“In here, it’s detective,” I said, opening my bag and fishing out my fake ID and credit cards. “Or Sandra, if you’re feeling lucky.”
“Let’s go with that last one,” he said. “If we’re going to be spending this much time together in such a small space, I think ‘detective’ and ‘Mr. Hale’ are going to wear thin pretty fast. Besides, I’d like to think we can get along on a first name basis, seeing as I already know every curve on your body.”
“Don’t push your luck. You know damn well that little fling ended years ago and I’m not about to go jumping back into bed with you.”
“We’ve been a new couple for less than two hours! You’re telling me you aren’t committed to this relationship?”
I looked at him over my shoulder. There was something about the way he said it, something about his inflection or the soft purr of his voice that made him almost sound hurt.
“Look, Sandra, I get it. I’m not your favorite person. I never meant to hurt you. I took you for granted… And I’m sorry.”
“There was a time when I wanted to hear you say those words, Nathan, but I’m not that girl anymore. I’m here for one reason and one reason only,” I replied, turning away from him.
“I’ll stop making light of the situation. This must be uncomfortable for you, but it’s terrifying for me. I’ve barely slept in weeks. You’re the only one I can trust right now. I just thought since we’d be living here together for a few days, we might clear the air.”
His words made me equal parts uneasy and flattered. I’d never seen Nathaniel Hale as anything less than in control. In his little world, things happened the way he wanted them to happen. I’d fallen into that circle of influence once, and it had taken me years to break free. Now, he had no control. I was responsible for his safety, and there were no nets strung out beneath this trapeze act. His eyes were drilling into my own, but the look on his face was grateful, rather than self-satisfied... It almost made him seem… Human…
I lingered in the heat of Nathan’s stare just a little longer. Some secret part of me was reveling in his attention. All those times we had been together, I was so desperate for this man to look at me like this… Like someone he respected, instead of someone he fucked. Breaking away from his gaze, I flipped my hair and stood up straight, reaching out to hand him the credit card with Candy Love printed on it.
“What do you like—Chinese?”
“Seems like the easiest choice,” he said, taking the card from my hand.