Hardwired (The Hardwired Series 1)(52)

“I was going through some things and found them. You should have them, Erica.”

I sifted through the stacks and studied each photo. My mother’s face and her smile warmed me. At times like these, I missed her more than ever. I tried hard to remember what she sounded like, her voice and her laugh. So much time had gone by, but the memory of her love echoed through me, a wordless melody that held my heart through time and distance.

Marie leaned over my shoulder as if she were seeing the photos for the first time in a long time, making comments about where they were around campus in some of them. I stopped on one that showed a group of five friends with arms linked, dressed in light jackets for a cool fall day judging from the foliage behind them. Something about the photo gave me pause. My mother was laughing, her long blond hair whipping around her face. She was turned to the man next to her. Unlike the others, their expressions revealed more than the frivolity of the moment—a fleeting look of adoration that I only recently had come to know.

“Who is that?” I pointed to the man who had short sandy brown hair and blue eyes that I recognized.

When Marie fell silent, I turned to find her shaking her head.

“An old friend, I guess. I can’t remember.”

“It looks like my mother knew him though.”

“Patty had a lot of friends. She was very charismatic. Half the campus was in love with her, I swear.”

“Marie—”

“Erica, I don’t know who that man is. I wish I could tell you.” She collected her purse and touched up her makeup in her compact mirror.

Marie was carefree and energetic, even a little immature at times, but she wasn’t much of a liar. She wasn’t telling me something. I had a niggling suspicion as to why, but I didn’t push her.

“Sweetie, I’m off. Keep me posted on Mystery Blake, okay?” She smiled as if the past five minutes hadn’t happened.

“I will. Good luck with Richard too.”

She responded with a weak laugh that didn’t give me much hope for Richard. She opened the door and shrieked when Blake met her at the entrance. He looked as surprised as she did.

I laughed and joined them at the threshold. “Marie, this is Blake. Blake, this is my friend, Marie.”

“It’s a pleasure, Marie,” he said, greeting her with a heart-stopping smile.

She mumbled something unintelligible before leaving, waving me off with a knowing grin.

Blake leaned on the doorway, freshly showered and barefoot, his hands tucked into a pair of board shorts paired with a plain white T-shirt. Only he could make something so casual look so impossibly sexy.

“Can I interest you in take out?” he asked.

“Actually that sounds perfect. I’m still feeling pretty wiped out.”

“Me too. Thai?”

“Sure. I’ll meet you upstairs. I need to change.” I gestured to my pajamas.

“You don’t need to. Clothes are optional, you know.”

He smirked, and I rolled my eyes and smacked his shoulder, trying to hide my smile before heading back to my room.





* * *

“Oh my God,” I moaned. “I don’t think I’ll ever cook again.”

“I can’t allow that,” Blake said between his bites, eating noodles out of a tin container.

He thought I was joking but this had to be the best Thai food I’d ever had. We settled back into the couch, exhausted and full.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” he asked.

“You mean, go out?”

“No, we can stay in, unless you want to go out?”

“What about your no electronics rule?”

“It’s more like a guideline.”

He opened a drawer in the coffee table in front of us and reached for one of several remotes. Whatever he pressed pulled a large flat panel television out of a hidden pocket of the mantle.

“Sounds good to me. Pick something out and I’ll go clean up.” I collected our mess and took it to the kitchen. My eyes lighted on a square black velvet box, if only because it was solitary in its place on the counter. I tried to ignore it and focused on putting away the leftovers.

“That’s for you,” Blake said, leaning his hip against the counter on the other end of the kitchen.

My eyes widened in surprise. “That?” I pointed to the box.

“I wanted to give it to you in New York, but we rushed out of there before I had a chance.”

Oh.

“Open it,” he said, his voice low with that sexy rasp that made me forget myself.

I tentatively reached for the box as he crossed the space between us. I held it in my hands, unable to open it. After a few awkward seconds, he popped the lid open for me, revealing two diamond bangle bracelets, each with a tiny charm hanging from the clasp. I lifted one out and identified its charm as a miniature roulette wheel in solid matching platinum.

“For being my good luck charm,” he murmured.

I smiled at the memory. That was pretty lucky, I had to agree.

I lifted the second out. On it hung a delicate woven heart. My own heart started to beat wildly, my nerves suddenly on edge.

“Every charm has a meaning,” he said quietly, setting the box to the side and clasping both bracelets dexterously around my left wrist before pressing a soft kiss into my palm.