We. Not just Marin. But the people who’d kept in touch with him on this trip. Lane. Ysa. A few of his clients who had emailed him wishing him a relaxing vacation. Even Dr. Suri had sent him well wishes, though no one but Marin and Lane knew about where he’d gone and why. He had people. It’d been a long damn time since he’d had people. Too long.
Donovan: OK
He didn’t say anything more after that. There was nothing left to say. He’d finally figured out where home was. And the answer to both those questions the water always asked when he was here was an easy one now: Yes.
He walked back down the path and to the car.
Yes, he cared.
And yes, someone cared for him.
That was all he needed.
35
Marin didn’t know when he was coming. Or if he’d changed his mind. Or if it’d be weird and awkward when he came back. Things had been so easy and comfortable on the phone these past few weeks that now it had her nerves gathering. They’d talked until all hours of the morning, opening up every door they had inside them, stripping things bare. Being honest. Being real. Being dorks.
And even though he’d been the one going through therapy, they’d tackled a lot of her fears, too. The fear of her genetics. Her fear that she wouldn’t be enough for Nate as he got older. Her worries about doing a good job at The Grove. They’d laid it all out there.
But she didn’t know if that would translate to real life, how that would feel when they saw each other again.
If they saw each other again. She hadn’t had another text in the two days since his photo on the bridge and he hadn’t called. It was driving her to goddamned distraction. So when she finished up dinner with Nate and saw him off to work, she went back to the X-wing to work late, anything to keep her mind off what might or might not be.
Ysa and the social worker who’d been helping out while Donovan was gone had long left for the night. All the hallways were dark and quiet except for the humming Exit signs and occasional safety light. She’d gotten used to this dead version of the X-wing. The first few nights she’d found it a little spooky, but now she found it peaceful. She could get a lot done, and it felt better than sitting in her empty house. This made her feel like she was doing something productive.
She studied case files, read the books they recommended to clients, researched the toys and devices they had on hand—though, some of that research she, of course, had to save for home. But tonight, she planned on going through some of the videos they prescribed to clients. She’d made it through a list of instructional ones for couples. Now she was on to the ones they recommended for straight-up arousal issues. It probably wasn’t the best plan of action, considering how pent up she was lately. Even light flirting on the phone with Donovan could key her up like nothing else. But she’d had a client today who’d needed one of the videos, and Marin hadn’t known which would be the best fit. She hated not knowing.
So after making herself a cup of coffee and getting a pack of powdered donuts from the vending machine, she’d settled onto the couch in her office and cued up a video on the tablet. This one Donovan had marked as a top five in effectiveness for female clients based on feedback. She hit play and took a long sip of her coffee as the movie started.
In an instant, she could see why this one had made the favorites list. The actor in it was very easy to look at, which she’d found was a rarity in most of the porn out there. He wasn’t overly tan or too muscle-bound. He looked like a hot guy next door. In fact, that was the role he was playing. The quiet guy next door who caught his pretty neighbor sneaking into his pool for naked late night-swims. The plot was ridiculous, of course, but the way he reacted to this transgression was pretty captivating.
Marin found her skin warming as the guy bent the woman over his knee for a good, hard spanking by the side of the pool. Her memories infiltrated the image. She could almost feel the sting of Donovan’s hand the night he’d done that to her, could remember how her body reacted.
Damn, this had been a stupid, stupid idea. Her body was already pulsing with deprivation, and there was no way she’d scratch that itch at work, even if no one was here. She’d learned that lesson in the sleep lab all those years ago.
But right as she was about to hit stop on the movie, she heard something out in the hallway. A little tap, tap. Footsteps? Something falling off a desk? She couldn’t tell but it’d made her heart jump into her throat. She tried to hit stop again on the video, but the screen wasn’t responding and the movie kept playing.
“Shit.”
She tossed the tablet to the other side of the couch and got to her feet. If someone was out there, she needed to know. Last time this had happened, she’d found a mop in the middle of the hallway, victim of a strong gust of the air-conditioning and a cleaning-supply closet door left ajar. She expected as much this time.
But when she stuck her head out of her office, she saw nothing amiss. “Hello?”
Her voice echoed down the hallway, and she had the brief thought that she was acting like a too-stupid-to-live horror movie heroine, calling out for the bad guy so he knew exactly where she was. Here I am! Come and get me, crazed serial killer!
But of course, that was ridiculous. The Grove was like Fort Knox with all the high-profile clients they had here. There was a guard at the entrance and pass codes to get into the buildings. High walls. No press was getting in and no guy with a hockey mask and a knife either. Still, she had to rub chill bumps from her arms. Nate’s penchant for scary movies had given her imagination way too much fodder. She gave one last listen, trying to pick out anything that sounded off.
The film was still playing low behind her from the tablet and the cry of an orgasm filled in the quiet. No sound came from the hallway.
Okay. Nothing to worry about. She could finish the movie or maybe give up on that and work on some case files.
She turned and headed back in the office. But before she could take more than a few steps, an arm was wrapping around her waist and another clamped over her mouth. She screamed into the hand.
“Shh, Rush. Don’t want to let anyone know what you’re up to in here.”
The sound of the familiar voice crashed through her, the scent of him registering a second later and slicing through her instinctual fear. Donovan. She wanted to cry. She wanted to cheer. She wanted to see his face and kiss it all over.
“I can’t believe I leave you on