Page 74 of Night Shift

Atticus stared at me, realization—or maybe it was guilt—swirling in his gray eyes. “How the fuck did we end up here? How did things get so confusing between us?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” I sighed. “I’m sorry for all the mixed signals. But I’m telling you the truth. There was nothing other than friendship between Conan and me. You know…you’re a hard man to follow.”

He stroked my back softly. “I’m sorry for assuming the worst about you. From now on, there can’t be any secrets between us. We can’t hide our relationship, or whatever this is, not even at work.”

“Relationship?” I asked, surprised and a bit nervous. “I didn’t think you ever did relationships.”

Atticus gave me a small, thoughtful smile. “I haven’t…but there’s always a first time for everything.” He leaned in to kiss me sweetly. “You’re special, Samantha. I’m willing to try an exclusive situation on a trial basis.”

“An experiment, huh?” I teased, laughing softly. It wasn’t what I’d hoped for when he’d mentioned the word relationship, but it was enough for now.

“Let’s go grab some snacks and a drink,” he suggested, nodding toward the kitchen. “We need to stay hydrated for what’s coming next. I’m not finished with you tonight.”

Chapter twenty

“Very funny,” she said, crawling off my lap. I stood up and pulled my sweatpants on in one quick motion while she slid my T-shirt over her head.

“You think I’m jesting? I told you at Swan Creek I was in prime condition,” I said, smacking her on the ass and steering her toward the kitchen.

“Let’s see what kind of good food you can come up with in this fancy kitchen of yours,” she teased, her hand finding mine. With an eager tug, she pulled me from the room.

In the kitchen I flipped on the pendant lights. The stainless-steel appliances gleamed, and the marble countertops practically sparkled—she really had done a good job cleaning up. The scent of sex still lingered in the air around us, and I couldn’t help but admire Samantha’s lithe, sweat-slicked body as she moved gracefully around the room.

I stepped over to the sink to wash up, and Sam was right there beside me, giving me a cheeky hip bump. She hogged the water, flashing that grin that always meant trouble. I had to wait, pretending to be put out until she was done. By the time I’d finished washing my hands and turned off the tap, she was already back at my side, arms laden with a treasure trove of snacks: cheese cubes, prosciutto, and a crisp cucumber, among other fridge finds. She placed them out on the counter, her movements easy and familiar in my kitchen.

It was odd seeing how at home she was here, seeing her so at ease in my personal space, a space I rarely let anyone invade. And even more odd was the fact that I liked having her here. Normally, I was eager to usher women out the door, making empty promises of future calls. But with Sam, it was different. I wanted her to know me, to reveal myself to her, to let her see the true me, with all my complexities and vulnerabilities laid bare.

I shook my head, forcing those thoughts aside. No, there were plenty of reasons to keep my guard up, to resist catching feelings for her. What everyone said about me was true—I didn’t become involved in romantic relationships. That ship had sailed ages ago. This was just an infatuation, most likely triggered by my instinct to protect and fix the world around me…to fix her world.

“I guess we’re going for a gourmet snack platter tonight,” I said, turning to the pantry to grab a box of crackers. Digging around, I found the artisanal kind I’d been saving for an occasion just like this.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” she replied, giving me a playful wink and setting out a couple of bottles of water next to our burgeoning spread. Hydration, it seemed, was as much a priority as satiation.

“All right, let’s get some food in that sexy little body of yours,” I said, pulling a cutting board out from the cabinet and selecting a bunch of grapes from the bowl on the counter. Bottle of water in hand, Samantha sauntered over to the entertainment system and grabbed the remote.

“Mind if I put on some tunes?” she asked, wiggling the remote at me. After downing nearly half her bottle of water, she set it down next to where I was working.

“Go ahead,” I replied, focused on slicing grapes and arranging them on the board. She scrolled through her playlist, and before long, the first notes of a romantic jazz melody filled the room—Chet Baker’s “I Fall In Love Too Easily.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t peg you for a jazz enthusiast.”

“Don’t act so surprised. I love all sorts of music. Sometimes a girl needs a little romance in her life,” she replied, sliding her arms around my waist from behind and resting her head on my back. We swayed together to the sultry rhythm of the trumpet and bass, the music adding a layer of intimacy as I cut the cucumber and arranged our spread on the board.

“Seems you’re full of surprises tonight,” I murmured.

Sam’s hand dropped a little lower, brushing against my growing erection. “Jesus, Atticus, I didn’t know men your age could recover so fast.”

“You make it sound like I’m eighty. Hell, I haven’t yet hit forty and you make it seem like I’m older than dirt. Besides, I’ve always been big on fitness,” I said, unable to hide my pride. “And if memory serves me correctly, you were the one who fell asleep after our not-so-long hike. Trust me, I can more than keep up with a sassy spitfire like you. Better eat and drink up, Sammich; we’re not sleeping tonight.”

“Is that a promise or a threat?” she purred with a naughtiness that had my dick twitching again. I couldn’t believe the effect this woman had on me.

“Both,” I replied, dropping my knife, turning, and grabbing her by the waist. I swung her around and lifted her onto the cold marble countertop. She yelped when her vulnerable flesh made contact with the chilly surface.

“Damn, that’s cold on my girlie bits!” she exclaimed, squirming to get off the counter, but I held her firmly in place, taking her mouth and swallowing her protests in a demanding kiss.

Pulling away slightly, I whispered against her lips, “Trust me, my pretty lady, I’ll warm you up soon enough.”

Sam’s pupils widened with arousal, and she reached up to cup my cheek. The stitches on her arm reminded me of those bastards who had attacked her. At some point, I needed to tell her about the meeting I’d had today with the private detective I’d hired, but now wasn’t the time.

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