My Killer Vacation(49)

“Hell if I know!” he roars.

“Usually we add avocado to the burritos, but we didn’t find a ripe one at the market, so…” Jude scratches his eyebrow. “No avocado today.”

Myles is back to having no idea what to do with his hands. I know what I would like him to do with them, but I’m really beginning to think letting this man touch me was self-destructive from the start because now it’s all I can think about.

“What are you thinking about now?” Myles steps closer, narrowing his eyes and searching my face. “I can tell it’s not good.”

“My thoughts are private, Myles. Go get your ducks in a row.”

“Fine. I’ll come for the fucking burritos.”

I throw up my hands. “Oh my God.”

“We tried adding refried beans once, but that’s a lot to handle first thing in the morning,” Jude says, patting his stomach. Several beats pass. “Hey, can you two stop blocking the stairs so I can get the hell out of here?”

I step to the right. “Sorry.”

Jude takes off hobbling as fast as possible on his injured foot.

“What is with you this morning?” I ask Myles.

He rakes a hand down his face, drawing my attention to the dark circles beneath his eyes, the weariness bracketing his mouth. “Everything was fine until I heard what you said about me.”

My cheeks heat. I already strongly suspected he’d overheard my confessions to Jude, but having it confirmed turns my face into a furnace. “I don’t understand. It was difficult hearing that you have some positive qualities?”

“I don’t know what it was.”

“See? Honest. I like that about you. So what? Take me to court.”

He looks like he’s chewing an invisible stick. “Well I like that you’re stubborn and compassionate. And brave, even though you don’t see it.”

Those words are a warm hug. A tight one that grows more and more snug until I have a hard time breathing. “Thank you.”

With a succinct nod, he paces away from me to stare out at the ocean. It’s incredible, really, what has been unlocked inside of me since the start of this trip. First, I realized I’m a lot stronger and more resilient than I ever knew. And now? Right this very moment? This blunt, infuriating human is confirming it. What I’ve secretly hoped is true about myself all along—and I’m becoming more determined than ever to embrace those more unshakeable parts of me.

What do I want?

Do I want to give up on this case I’ve become invested in? No.

Do I want to walk away from my acquaintance with this man leaving things undone?

No. If it was up to me, we would go back to his motel room this very second. There is a wealth of physical urges inside of me that I strongly suspect can only be tapped by Myles. Yes, I’m afraid of going home never having experienced them. But at the same time, I don’t want to be a distraction to him. This man houses a lot of pain. He lashes out to hide it. And maybe I’m too soft in nature, but I can’t stop wanting to help. As much as I want to prove to myself that I’m brave and viable, I also want Myles to realize he had one bad case back in Boston. That doesn’t mean he has to walk away from his whole life. A career that he’s obviously meant for.

Bottom line, he’s holding me at a distance for a reason. I have to respect that.

But he’s right. I’m stubborn.

I’ve wanted to help solve Oscar Stanley’s murder since the beginning. To solve the puzzle and in the process, prove I’m more than just play it safe Taylor. Now I have the added wish to be of some assistance to Myles.

Whether he likes it or not.

Whether he knows it or not.

“Are you coming for burritos?”

“Yes,” he growls, turning from the ocean and storming past me.

I smile at his back and follow. “I was thinking…”

“Jesus, here we go.”

“Nothing bad. I just need some new reading material. And since you’re so determined to babysit me, I was hoping to tag along into town with you this morning?” He stops abruptly when we reach the street, steadying me when I stumble. Eyeing me suspiciously.

I’m the very picture of guileless. Outwardly, at least.

“I just want to browse the library.”

He’s not buying it. “You’re sure that’s all you have planned?”

“I mean…” Needing to distract him, I smooth a palm up the center of his pecs and he gives an audible swallow, watching my hand as it moves upward, then back down in the direction of his belt buckle. “If you want to revisit the parking lot, I won’t object.”

“Taylor,” he rasps, grasping my wrist, holding it away while he gets his breathing back under control. “Don’t do this to me, sweetheart.”

I pull my hand away, pretending his rejection doesn’t make my throat hurt. Not when I grasp his purpose and sympathize with it. “Will you let me tag along or not?”

“Of course I will.”

“Good.” I force a smile onto my face, even as his rebuff continues to sting. It’s rejection my brain understands, but my heart doesn’t want to accept. “Let’s eat.”

He stands still in the middle of the road for another few seconds, a vein ticking in his temple, until he eventually follows.