Page 85 of Faking the Shot

It was late by the time they finally departed, this time to kisses and hugs, not handshakes.

“Your passion project, huh?” Zac asked, as he drove Gerta back downtown.

Ainsley slumped in her seat, her weariness obvious. “I think they liked it, right?”

“Are you kidding? They loved it.”

“Good.” She sighed. “I wondered if maybe it might be a bit much, especially considering the badness that happened, but I think they could see the vision.”

Her vision. He grasped her hand. “Can I say that I’m incredibly proud of you?”

“Apparently.”

He snickered.

“But seriously, thank you. That means a lot.”

“I mean it. A lot.” He squeezed her hand. “I have never met anyone else like you.”

“Well, you’ve met Diana, and Glenda, and—”

“Well, they’re not you. You’re really special, Ainsley.”

She peeked across at him, and he wished he wasn’t driving, so he could find out what that look meant.

She yawned. Then laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to kill the moment with a yawn.”

“The moment isn’t killed.” Although it was getting late. He had a flight tomorrow for a game against Dallas the following day. But he didn’t want to end tonight, even though downtown was nearing, as was her apartment.

He pulled in, and parked. She didn’t get out. “I hope you’ve had fun today,” she said.

“I have.” Today had been eye-opening, revelatory, wonderful. And there was still one gift to give. “Can I walk you upstairs? You might need an extra pair of hands with all the Christmas loot you’ve got there.”

Another yawn erupted from her. She laughed. “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s not you, it’s me.”

“It sounds like you need me to walk you upstairs, so you don’t fall asleep halfway.”

“We have an elevator, but… okay.” This was said almost shyly.

He hurried to open her door, and she retrieved her coat and the collection of gifts, and carefully balanced them as they made their way inside.

Michael wasn’t on duty but another guy, who nodded and wished them a good night.

Zac’s cheeks heated at the implication. He wasn’t going to stay too long. Well, long enough that he hoped it would be a good night, but not in a non-Chris-approved way.

She pressed the button for the tenth floor, and they ascended in silence. But every so often he caught her gaze on him, and he’d smile, and she’d duck her head.

The doors opened and she walked to the end, at what he figured must be the eastern end of the building, nearer where the harbor must be. She unlocked her door, and he carefully carried her gifts in.

“Just put them on the table, thank you.”

He did, then drew closer to the window. A balcony showed a covered outdoor table, and what he guessed were chairs, stowed for the winter. As he’d suspected, lights to the right reflected off the water.

He peered to the left, where he could just about make out his building.

“Is your place over there?” she asked.

He pointed to the top of a nearby lit-up apartment block. “You can just about see my condo there.”

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