Page 17 of Honey Pot

It made me curious and I shifted on the couch, making the fabric strain loudly in the silence.

“Sorry,” he lobbed an apology at me with a curt nod, not even taking the time to process what his eyes saw.

“Cael,” Ryan warned as his head snapped back to where I sat, ankles crossed, staring at him.

Fire burned behind those exhausted blue eyes and my heart came alive at the sight.

“Clementine?”

My name dripped from him like it pained him to say it and he blinked at me for a moment before closing his eyes and shaking his head. When he opened them again it was like he expected me to be gone, as if I was nothing more than a ghost.

Cael pushed his hat off and ran a hand through his hair, confusion and shock vibrating from him as his eyes flickered over me. He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again into a tight line before he cocked his head to the side and left the office.

I made to get up and go after him but Ryan stood first.

“Don’t,” he said. “Let him go.”

“You knew it was me and you didn’t tell him I was coming?” I asked.

“Now you understand why I wanted you here early.” He picked up the phone, dialing an extension and, within minutes, there was a knock on the door.

I had been so unfocused I hadn’t even heard who he had called. My fingers itched against the fabric of the couch, begging me to get up, to go find Cael. That invisible string wound so tightly around my neck I could barely breathe.

“Silas,” he introduced us.

I stood and shook his hand. He was older than me, but not quite as old as Ryan, and had the prettiest gray-blue eyes I’d ever seen. He was tall and his hair was dark and short, pushed back off his face, but everything about his demeanor spoke to his softness as he shook my hand.

“Silas Shore,” he tried again when I didn’t introduce myself.

“Mary Matthews.” I used my mother’s name and I could see Ryan flinch out of the corner of my eye. Silas looked between us like he could sense the tension and nodded.

“It’s wonderful to meet you.” He was more than polite, which I’d expected from the only male grandson of the Shores. He had been born with a weight on his shoulders to uphold the family name.

It wasn’t a simple task, carrying around that kind of wealth, but the politeness he extended wasn’t fake like most of the men I had met recently. It was genuine.

“I’m head of the medical staff here at the stadium. I primarily work with the baseball team but I oversee the care for another six professional teams on campus.”

“The women's fastpitch, basketball, and soccer, as well as the men's hockey, basketball, and lacrosse,” I said and he looked impressed.

“She did her research,” he said to Ryan, who was still staring at me like I might crawl out of my skin and become the monster under his bed.

“Research is my job, Mr. Shore.”

“Silas,” he corrected. “Mr. Shore is my father, who I assume you met.”

“I did have the pleasure, yes,” I nodded.

The resemblance was there; the same ashy-brown hair and expressive eyebrows. His father was clean-shaven whereas Silas sported a trimmed beard and mustache. Rebellion in the form of facial hair. His father had been polite, but handsy.

“She’s staying in the city,” Ryan said finally.

“Ah! That’s why I was called. Seems lately I’m just a landlord…” He laughed tightly. “There’s a guest room at Dansby House that’s yours for the duration of your stay. It’s cozy but it’ll do, and then you aren’t driving two hours every day.” He explained. “Luckily for you, it was just cleaned out.”

“I couldn’t do that.” I shook my head. I wanted to keep my space from their personal lives. From Cael.

“I insist, and Dansby has a sitting room with a couch which will be much more comfortable for conducting interviews.”

“That’s very kind of you but—”

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