“Why?”
“Because I want coffee. And I’m hiding a fugitive in my bedroom.” Putting those two things together was absurd. “I don’t want to be interrupted. These are the most important questions of my life.”
He climbed from the bed. “I think you better check.”
He moved the chair from under the door handle. I pulled a robe over my shoulders and tip-toed into the living room. The door was locked. The lights were off. Her bedroom door was open. It didn’t look as if she had slept here.
I walked back to Vaughn. “No sign of her. I better send her a text to check.”
“I don’t want to drag her into this. You know that?”
I nodded, clutching my phone. “Let’s just see how much time we have.”
Last night time didn’t matter. I was willing to steal whatever remnants I could pluck together. This morning, that felt reckless and irresponsible. Safety mattered now. Thinking through everything was an instant priority. I had abandoned all rationality once his lips touched mine. What if Agent Kenneth called or stopped by before my trip to New Bern? What if he thought there was some kind of break in the case? What if somehow he knew Vaughn was here?
“You ok?” he looked at me.
“Yes.” I nodded. I had to settle one issue at a time. I pulled out my phone to text Greer.
Good date?
I sent the message. She would kill me if she knew I had reunited with my ex in the same way she and Preston must have last night.
The best.
“What did she say?” Vaughn tried to look at the screen.
“She stayed at Preston’s last night.”
Are you coming home soon?
Are you ok? I can if you need me.
I chewed on my lip. She had no idea how much I needed her to stay away.
No. I’m working on exams. Tell Pres I said hi.
See you maybe tomorrow.
I knew that bought us enough time to at least have a cup of coffee and go through this infamous list of questions Vaughn kept asking for.
I turned toward him.
“We’re set. We have some time. But I can’t promise she won’t be back tonight.”
“I understand.” He walked into the kitchen and reached for the coffee pot and filled it with water. “It’s not a problem.”
I didn’t know what that meant.
“What are you doing?” I asked, watching him comfortably move through the kitchen.
“Making you coffee. I think that was one of your stipulations.” He winked at me as he scooped the grounds into the filter.
None of this made sense. His cavalier attitude. His unstoppable sex appeal. My undying love for a man who had broken me in too many places to count.
I leaned against the bar. “I want to start asking questions now.”
“Go for it.” He pushed the red button on the machine.