No Safe Place(Detective Lottie Parker #4)(100)

‘Not my boy trouble. Your man trouble.’

‘I don’t have man trouble.’

‘That’s the problem. Boyd, well, he’s your friend. You can’t go on a date with him.’

‘For the last time, it’s not a date.’

‘Why is he down in the sitting room with another bunch of flowers then?’

‘He’s just being Boyd.’ Lottie bit her lip. She hadn’t a clue how to handle this awkwardness with her daughter.

‘I know you slept with him last night. This is going to end in tears.’

‘Hey.’ She gripped Chloe’s hand tightly. ‘I just have things to discuss with him. It’s nothing serious.’

‘Yeah, but he’s your friend. And you’re going to ruin that friendship, just like you ruin everything. I miss Dad!’

‘Wait a minute …’

But Chloe had fled.

Flopping back on the bed, Lottie stared at a water stain on the ceiling and wondered where she was going wrong.





Eighty-Five





In the end, she rushed Boyd out the door and drove over to his apartment behind him.

As usual, the place was clean and quiet. She sat beside him on the couch and sipped a glass of white wine. They had agreed to no work talk.

‘Do you miss Grace being around for the weekend?’

‘No. I’ve been on my own for so long, I find it hard to share my space. Anyway, she’ll be back tomorrow.’

‘No hope for me then,’ she laughed. The illicit wine was relaxing her. A little.

‘There is always hope for you, Lottie Parker.’ He clinked his glass to hers and the hazel in his eyes sparkled with the light. ‘I enjoyed having you here last night. In my bed. Our lovemaking.’

‘I was only here a couple of hours.’ She turned her head to him. How was she going to handle this without ruining their friendship?

‘You’re beautiful, but you don’t realise it.’

‘Will you stop!’

‘I thought I’d go mental all day, restraining myself.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Trying to keep my hands off you and my expression neutral.’

She smiled awkwardly. ‘McMahon didn’t remain neutral. He’s preparing my walking papers. I don’t know what I’m going to do.’

‘He can’t suspend you without consulting the chief super, so don’t worry about it.’

‘I have to worry about it. I need my job. It’s the only thing keeping me half sane.’

‘You have your children. They’re brilliant kids. I love Sean.’

‘Chloe is an enigma, though. If only I could fathom out how her brain works.’

‘Problems there?’

‘She thinks I’m going to ruin a good friendship.’

‘And are you?’

‘I ruin everything, according to her.’

‘No you don’t. She’s just a teenager. Afraid she’s going to lose her mum.’

‘It’s more than that, Boyd. I fear for her. She says she misses her dad.’

‘Of course she does. Sean too.’ He leaned over for the bottle and refilled his glass. ‘Another?’

‘I shouldn’t be drinking at all. I’ve got to drive home.’ As he drew away, she said, ‘Well, maybe half a glass.’

They reclined in the silence, their legs touching, her head on his shoulder. She felt that if she sat here long enough, the hassles of her life might just disappear, if only for an hour.

‘Do you ever crave sex?’ he said.

‘Jesus, Boyd. Where did that come from?’

He pointed to the pit of his abs. ‘Here. Somewhere down here.’

Lottie stood up and walked to the window. ‘That’s an odd question.’

He said nothing.

She flicked a slat in the wooden blind, cutting the scene outside in half. She didn’t want to turn around. To see him sitting there, hands resting just above the buckle of his belt. His fingers long and lonely. His hair short and damp. And his eyes. Questioning.

‘I don’t think about it,’ she said.

‘You must do.’

‘Do you?’

‘Not as often as you might think,’ Boyd said.

She heard him standing up, the glass clinking on the table, the rustle of his trousers, the pad of his feet on the carpet. She sensed his closeness as he stood behind her.

‘Do you love me, Lottie?’

That made her take a step away from him. She turned to stare. Side-on, he was even more handsome, because she couldn’t see his sticking-out ears.

How to answer him without hurting him. Without hurting herself. Did she love Boyd? Adam had been the only man in her life, all her life, until he got that bastard cancer and died on her. Boyd had always been on hand when she felt her life rug being snatched from beneath her feet. Yes, she’d slept in his bed after bouts of drinking, but last night had felt different. And that was what scared her the most.

As he slowly turned to face her, her breath caught in the back of her throat at the sight of the sadness lurking in the corners of his eyes. She wanted to reach out and touch his cheek, to hold his hand, to tell him what she knew was deep within her heart. But then she might lose him too. Wasn’t it safer to keep plodding along, playing the game? But how long could she do that without succumbing to her true feelings? And would Boyd even be around when she faced up to what she knew was the truth?