But it hadn’t worked. Instead, hanging around with his family’s hoity-toity crowd had only made him want Brynn more.
For a while, he’d convinced himself their scorching sexual chemistry was the only reason the sun seemed to get brighter anytime she was near. But the week away had burned that theory into a pile of ash. As he sat on the beach night after night, staring at the ocean, he’d realized that the agonizing ache he felt didn’t reside below his belt but square in the middle of his chest.
He missed her.
For the first time in his life, he felt comfortable in his own skin, and she was the reason. The people in his world always came with conditions, fine print. But not Brynn. Even after he’d told her about his father, she hadn’t judged, only accepted. She’d embraced the dark parts of him as well as the bright spots. He’d never experienced that kind of total acceptance—not even from his mom. And he didn’t want to give that up.
Not now. Not at the end of the summer. Maybe not ever.
And he had no idea what in the hell to do with that realization.
Asking Brynn to be in a relationship with him was akin to inviting her into a snake pit. The people who ran in his family’s social circle could be vicious. They’d slice her apart with their genteel passive-aggressiveness and backhanded comments before she even realized what was happening. Plus, if he and Brynn started dating publicly and the press dug into her background… Hell, he didn’t even want to think about that. Beyond the fallout from his aunt and uncle over the campaign, he’d never forgive himself for bringing that kind of scrutiny and exposure down on Brynn.
But he was getting ahead of himself.
Even if he could figure out a way to shield her from the land mines in his life, she’d given him no signs that she had any interest in him beyond the summer. Sure, the whole thing was fun and different for her right now. She was trying it out. Just like she’d try out a threesome if he offered one. But would she want this kind of relationship with him for real?
He intended to find out soon. If she felt even an inkling of what he felt for her, maybe they could figure out a way to be together.
He shook himself from his thoughts and smiled. “How about some dinner, sugar?”
Her lips parted to answer, but a noise coming from down the hall made them both freeze.
“Shit,” he whispered. He strained to listen. What in the hell was that? “Is that the… the copy machine?”
Her eyes widened and she climbed off his lap, hurriedly standing and tugging her skirt down. “Did you lock the front door?”
Had he? He thought he had, but maybe in his rush to see Brynn he’d forgotten.
He buttoned his pants and stood, putting his finger to his lips to hush her. If someone was in the office, he and Brynn could be in trouble for a number of reasons. He didn’t want anyone knowing about their relationship, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. If someone had broken in, they could be in much more serious danger.
He leaned next to her ear. “Stay here. Don’t come out until I call for you. If I’m not back in ten minutes, call 911.”
“Reid,” she whispered, latching on to his shirtsleeve. “Don’t go out there, what if it’s a burglar?”
“I’m sure it’s fine. What burglar would use the copy machine?” he whispered, trying to reassure her, but not convincing himself.
He crossed over to the sink and pulled open a drawer but found only plastic utensils. Damn. He bent and opened the cabinet below. He grabbed the small fire extinguisher. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.
He headed toward the doorway and poked his head out into the hallway. Empty. The copy machine was still going at a steady pace in the distance. Click and glide. Click and glide.
He slipped into the hall, keeping his back close to the interior wall, and inched forward on quiet feet. If he could get to the end of the corridor, he’d be able to peer around and see the spread of the main office area. Step by agonizing step he made it closer to his destination, all the while telling himself that the stealth was for nothing. That it was probably just one of the office workers stopping in for something. But the hairs on the back of his neck said otherwise.
As he reached the end of hall, he carefully peeked around the corner. The whole office was dark except for the parking lot lights illuminating the glass doors at the front and the green and white dance of lights under the lid of the unattended copy machine across the room.
“Hello?” he called out. “Anyone there?”
Only the monotonous rhythm of the damn copier answered.
Unwilling to traipse around the place in the dark to search, he reached for the light switch and flipped on the bank of overhead fluorescents. He scanned the room quickly to make sure no one was in sight, then started looking behind desks, keeping the fire extinguisher poised for his lame spray-and-distract plan.
Once he’d secured that area and checked that the front door was indeed locked, he did a cursory search of the private offices. Not a soul anywhere.
He blew out the breath he’d been holding.
Huh. Maybe some weird glitch in the copier.
He stuck his head in the hallway and called out, “Brynn, all clear.”