Being Me(Inside Out 02)(18)

My heart begins to race and I lean against the counter to see him more fully. “You’re worried someone will try and take them? I thought you said the apartment was safe?”
He rotates around to face me. “It is safe. That’s not what I’m worried about or else I wouldn’t be trying to talk you into going with me. I’d be insisting instead. What I’m worried about is you reading the damn things and then reading into them. I’m asking you to put them away while I’m gone. Save your curiosity until
I’m present and have the chance to explain whatever you read if you somehow relate it to you and me like you did last night.”
“It’s not about curiosity, Chris. It’s about finding Rebecca.”
“Let the private detective do his job. I’m going to put a call into him this morning to talk about what happened last night and see if he can get anything from the storage facility about the incident that we couldn’t.” His hands slide down my hair. “Please, Sara. Lock up the journals.”
I swallow hard against the refusal that wants to spurt from my lips. This is important to him, and there is nothing in the journals I haven’t read at least once before. Reluctantly, I nod. “Yes. Okay. I’ll lock them up.”
Approval crosses his face. “Thank you.”
My lips curve at his thank-you.
He arches a brow. “Why are you smiling?”
“Because most macho control freaks don’t say ‘thank you.’ I like it.”
“Enough to agree to fly up to Los Angeles Saturday after work and help me survive being stuffed in a tuxedo at a gala that evening?”
I wiggle an eyebrow. “I get to see you in a tuxedo?”
“Better. You can help me take it off.”
“Deal,” I say with a laugh. “Though I want a picture before the undressing begins.”
“I’ll give you the picture if I can talk you into bringing the painting I did last night with you. It’s not dry enough for me to carry with me.”
“Of course. I don’t mind at all.”
“Great. There’s a small room in the back of the studio with a high-tech dryer. It’s sitting back there. I’ll call you when I get settled and work out the travel arrangements.”
The phone buzzes on the wall and he grabs it. “Be right down,” he murmurs and replaces the receiver before reluctantly announcing, “My cab is here.”
“Why aren’t you driving?”
“I want you to take the Porsche.”
“I have my car.”
“The Porsche has top-notch security. It knows where you are at all times.”
A flash of a past I prefer to forget slips between us, sharpening my tone. “In other words, you want to know where I am at all times?”
He appears unfazed by my reaction. “If I had to find you I could, but that’s not the point. If you were in trouble, you’d be found and found quickly. If you need help, you just tell the computer and it will get you help. It’s peace of mind for us both.”
His reasoning isn’t horrible and the past begins to slip away, replaced by another, rather obvious potential motive. “And as a bonus me driving your car makes a statement to Mark.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “As a bonus, yes.”
My hands go to my hips. “I don’t want to be in the middle of the war between the two of you. I’m not a game token, Chris.”
He backs me against the counter, his legs framing mine, and in my bare feet and only his T-shirt, I feel tiny and he is larger-than-life. “It says you’re mine,” he informs me, his voice low, intense, “and I want him to know you’re mine.”
I’m thrilled when I should be objecting. “And you, Chris?”
I challenge instead. “Are you mine?”
“Every bit of me, baby, good and bad.”
I am shocked at how easily this declaration has rolled from his lips. My own lips part and no words come out.
“Take the Porsche.” His voice is softer now, rough and seductive.
He was right earlier, I conclude instantly. I melt like honey for this man when he wants me to. “I’ll take the Porsche.”
Chris’s hand slides to the side of my face. “That’s the right answer, baby,” he murmurs, then slants his mouth over mine, his tongue pressing past my lips. The ripe taste of his approval mixed with the sweet nuttiness of hazelnut coffee floods my taste buds, and consumes me. I am happy for the first time in a very long time.

Chapter Six

Watching the elevator doors close on Chris leaves me hollow inside. I’m alone in his apartment and the happiness of the last few minutes has waned with the sensation of being lost. I know that distance does not have to create separation between us but our newfound closeness is fragile.