Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set (13 page)

I sit up again and glance around my room. Somewhere in my apartment, Josh is probably sleeping. I still can’t believe he offered to stay just so that I wouldn’t be afraid to go back to sleep. It was after three in the morning when he made me come to bed. I suddenly smile to myself because that thought makes me think of the words to one of my favorite songs, and I know that I’ll be humming it all day long now.

I quickly shut off the alarm before it goes off and get out of the bed. Grabbing my robe, I pull it on as I wander out of my room and down the hall to the guest bedroom. The door is wide open, like it always is and when I peek inside, the bed looks as though it hasn’t been slept in. Hmm? Maybe he got up early and left already. Perhaps he had to get to work by seven? No. He said he doesn’t normally work weekends.
Maybe he left in the middle of the night while you were sleeping.
My subconscious mutters dejectedly and I frown. No, I reason to myself; he wouldn’t do that. I haven’t known Josh long but, he doesn’t strike me as the type of person who would make a promise without any intention of keeping it.

The guest bathroom is also empty. I wander down the hall toward the living room feeling hurt that my subconscious may be right, and I am slightly startled when I enter the living room and Josh is fast asleep on my couch. He’s lying on his back with one arm raised over his head, mouth slightly open, and he’s covered up by his leather jacket. His shoes are on the floor beside the couch and his gun is sitting on my marble coffee table within easy reach. He looks so peaceful and I wish that I could just let him keep on sleeping but, I need to dress and get to work.

I decide to give him a few more minutes and head into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. While I work, I can’t help stealing the occasional glance over at his beautiful sleeping form and part of me wishes that I had my sketchbook handy but it’s upstairs in my studio. Oh well, I don’t have time anyway. But look at those arms! The muscle definition is incredible and I can’t help wondering what his naked torso and back would look like. I’d be willing to bet that he’s beautiful all over.

When the coffee is ready, I pour two cups, add some cream and sugar to mine and place them both on a small serving tray. I add a small bowl of sugar and the creamer onto the tray and take it into the living room. As I quietly set the tray down on the table, I see a sudden flash of movement from the corner of my eye, and before I know it Josh is sitting up, gun in hand, and he’s looking at me wide eyed and startled. He lowers his gun just as quickly as he aimed it and I am standing frozen in place and my heart is racing.

“Jesus, Samantha!” His voice is a tired sigh and he runs a hand through his hair and replaces the gun to the table. “I’m sorry. Wake with a start in a strange place,” he mumbles, letting the rest of that sentence dangle. He sighs again and says, “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

“No,” I lie, trying to breathe normally. I glance at him and he is trying to hide a smile. I sigh as I sit at the end of the couch beside him. “Okay, maybe just a little heart failure,” I shrug, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“It’s okay,” I smile shyly at him. “Um … how do you take your coffee?”

“Black, please,” he says gratefully and I hand him a steaming mug.

“I could make you some breakfast if you’d like,” I offer as he sips his coffee.

“No, you don’t have to go to any trouble,” he smiles. He really is adorable, all disheveled and sexy. And I notice for the first time that he has the most insane dimples when he smiles.
Wow!
He is movie star handsome!

“It’s no trouble,” I say softly, lost in that smile. “And it’s the least I could do after I dragged you out here at that awful hour and made you spend the night.” My voice is apologetic and small. I really do feel badly about it now. And embarrassed. In the light of day, the events of last night must make me seem pretty silly.

“Samantha, you did not
make me
spend the night,” he says, piercing me with an intense blue gaze. “I stayed because I wanted to. Because I wanted you to feel safe. And you didn’t drag me out here either,” he says looking away and staring into his mug of coffee. His voice grows softer as he says, “The minute I answered the phone and heard you say you were scared, I was halfway out the door.” He looks up at me and says, “Wild horses couldn’t have kept me away.”

Oh.
I don’t know what to say to his confession. And I don’t know what else to call it because that’s exactly what it was. But what does it mean exactly? He couldn’t stay away from me … because he likes me? Or maybe because he was just doing his job. He told me how much his job means to him. How seriously he takes it. Perhaps that’s what he meant. My subconscious smiles sadly at me and nods in agreement. Seems she’s given up on her delusional fantasies of anything more with the good detective.

He takes a last sip of his coffee and places his mug on the tray. Then he reaches for his shoes and begins to put them on. “I need to get home and get a shower.” He looks at me and asks, “How are you feeling after last night?”

“I’m alright,” I reply. “I’m looking forward to going to work today actually. I think I need to focus on something other than my creepy situation for a while.”

He nods in agreement. “I was thinking about that phone call after you fell asleep last night. The call came in on your cell so, assuming that the two incidents are related, this guy obviously got your number from your cell when he stole your purse. If you don’t have a land line, it might be a good idea to contact your cell provider and get your number changed. At least that way, this creep can’t contact you anymore.”

“Yes. I might just do that,” I answer. “Thanks for the suggestion.”

“I’ll be contacting your cell provider as well, to get a look at your phone records,” he says matter-of-factly. “Just so you know. Maybe they can tell us where that call originated from and we can finally get a lead in this case.”

He sounds hopeful and I can’t help sharing his feelings. “Will you look into that today?” I ask him, knowing it’s Sunday.

“Yes. Just as soon as I can get to the station. I’ll call my partner on my way in; we’ll put our heads together.”

He stands suddenly and reaches for his gun, tucking it into the rim of his jeans at his back. Looking up at him from my position on the couch, I marvel again at the definition of his arms. They are quite muscular. And again, I wonder what his torso and back look like beneath that snug, plain white t-shirt he’s wearing. He looks down at me and cocks his head to the side and I think I see a smile playing at his perfect mouth.
He’s laughing at me!
Oh shit, am I drooling? I stand nervously, embarrassed to have been caught lusting after this beautiful man!

“Were you just checking me out, Miss Colby?” His voice is all business and professionalism but he is clearly trying to conceal his smile. I, on the other hand, am mortified.

“What!” My voice is way too high and I know that I am blushing. “No … I…” I have gone scarlet from head to toe, I can feel it, and he looks very pleased with himself. “Um…” I say nothing else because, what can I say? There is no way for me to clean this up or to dig myself out of this hole. Unable to look him in the eye, I steal a glance at him and he’s enjoying my discomfort as he watches me squirm. Thankfully, he lets me off the hook when he turns abruptly and gathers his jacket from the couch. He shrugs it on as he walks toward the door.

“I’ll call you later to let you know if your phone records turned up anything,” he says without looking back. Then he turns when he reaches the door and says rather smugly, “If you do change your number, I would appreciate that information.”

“For professional reasons, of course,” I say softly. I’m still not able to look him in the eye. I’m so embarrassed.

“Actually, the job has nothing to do with it,” he says, and when my eyes fly to his, he is looking at me with the sexiest little smile.
Oh, my God. What did he just say?
Did I hear him correctly or am I hallucinating? He looks away, shaking his head in a ‘what the hell am I doing’ kind of way, and opens the door. “Come, lock this door,” he says sternly.

I do as I’m told and my mind is reeling. He’s interested in me! He just pretty much admitted that, didn’t he? Did I imagine it? Am I reading too much into his words? I’m probably reading too much into his words, right? Oh, I wish I had Megan’s savvy with men. She would know exactly what he meant. She would know exactly what to say in response. Maybe I should call her on my way to work.

When I reach the door, our eyes lock. “Thank you again for staying,” I say softly.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers. He gazes at me for a few seconds and then he shakes his head again slightly and turns to leave. He closes the door behind him and I know that he is waiting to hear the click of the lock before he walks away. I reach up and lock the door and then stand on my toes to look out the peep hole. I see him run a hand through his hair and then place his hands on his hips. He shakes his head once more and then turns and heads to the elevator.

What was all that about,
I wonder as I turn and head back to the living room. Gathering up the tray of coffee and returning it to the kitchen, I rinse out the cups and load them into the dishwasher. Then I dash back into the bedroom to get ready for work. I shower quickly and when I’m done, I dress in my gray slacks and my black Pryor Art Museum Gift Shop dress shirt and then proceed to put my hair up in a bun. Once I’m dressed I brush my teeth and apply some moisturizer to my face. Then I dab on some mascara and a little lip gloss. I finish the look with my comfy black Jimmy Choo flats and I’m ready to go.

I stop off in the kitchen and take a few minutes to toast a blueberry bagel and spread a little cream cheese on it. Then I grab an orange from the fridge and stuff it into my purse for lunch and I am out the door. Despite the light rain, the drive to the museum is only about fifteen minutes – twenty on a day with heavier traffic – and I make great time. Sundays are typically a pretty bustling day for us so, I know that I will be much too busy to worry about my attacker/car and purse thief/possible stalker/menacing phone caller person.

As I park the car and head into the museum, I replay my morning’s conversation with Josh over in my head and wonder for the hundredth time since he uttered the words, what on earth he meant when he said that the job had nothing to do with him wanting to know if I decided to change my cell number. I know that Megan would be rolling her eyes at me right now, which is probably why I didn’t call her on my way here like I started to. Although I know that I will break down and call her at lunchtime. I have to. I have to know what he meant. It’s going to drive me crazy until I do.

I enter the museum and head straight for the gift shop and I am delighted to find that Peggy, my supervisor, is already there because it means the gift shop doors are already opened. Since my key to the gift shop doors were stolen, I would have had to wait to get in otherwise.

“Good morning, Peggy,” I say with a smile.

“Morning, Sam,” she says brightly. “Oh, you poor thing, how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay, really,” I say, trying to reassure her. “I’m just happy to be back.”

“Well, I’m happy you weren’t more seriously hurt,” she says.

“Thanks,” I mutter as I put my things away in the back room. “Um, Peggy … I did mention that my key to the gift shop doors was stolen along with all my personal keys, right?”

“Yes, you did.” She looks at me from over top of her librarian-style glasses that hang from her neck on a chain. “But anyone wanting to get in here would have to first break into the museum itself so, I think we’re safe.”

I giggle at her comment. “Yes, but I’m going to need a replacement for it.”

“Oh, why is that, dear?” she asks and she looks at me as if I’ve lost my marbles. Perhaps I have.

“Um … because I won’t be able to get in without one,” I say slowly with a puzzled expression.

“Well, why would you want to do that?” she asks with a laugh. “I thought this was your last day working in the gift shop.”

What?
Did I skip a chapter? “My last day?” I question, somewhat startled.

“Well, Laura Clark from human resources told me this morning that they’re going to hire two new clerks for the gift shop instead of one because you’re being offered the docent position,” she says as if I should already know this. “I start training my new people on Tuesday.”

I am standing open mouthed, in shock. “I got the job?” My voice is a high-pitched squeal. “Really!” She smiles at me and I know that I must be wearing a ridiculous grin on my face.

“Oh heavens,” she says apologetically, “I’m afraid I’ve overstepped myself. I was supposed to give you this note asking you to go and see her first thing this morning,” she says, handing me a note from her pocket.

Taking the note from her hand, I actually jump up and down a couple of times and repeat my squeal of joy.
Jeez, Sam. How old are you, five?
Peggy just smiles at me indulgently. She knows how badly I’ve wanted this position.

“I’m happy for you, dear,” she winks at me. “Now run along and see her so that you can get back here. It’s time to open up and it’s just you and me until lunchtime.”

I head out of the gift shop and venture down to the non-public area of the museum where all the business offices are and knock softly on Ms. Clark’s door. She ushers me into her office and we talk for close to half an hour about the position and what it entails. She gives me a manual that I will have to study in preparation for my training and asks me if I am able to stay late this evening in order to meet with my new supervisor to go over things. The thought makes me a little uneasy because it means I will have to venture out into a fairly deserted, dark parking lot after hours. But I smile and tell her that I’d be happy to, even though I’m silently panicking inside. She doesn’t notice my discomfort and proceeds to tell me that I will begin my actual training on Tuesday morning by shadowing another, experienced docent while they give private tours of the museum.