at my phone screen. He stares right back at me in the camera, as if he’s looking into my soul.
“I know you’re there, right on the other side, warring with yourself over what to do. Open the door.”
I want to yank it open, I’m paralyzed. I can’t move. What just happened here? I’d totally written this whole thing off in my mind, and he just appeared out of nowhere, like he did it on purpose.
He exhales a large breath, and his jaw relaxes a little. His eyebrows rise, and he stares right at me on my screen and says, “Please?”
I shake my head, as if he could see me, even though I know he can’t.
He came back.
Without thinking anything through, I say loud enough for him to hear, “How did you know I was here?”
His lips immediately curl into a smile when he hears my voice. It’s so natural when he does it too, and all I can think is isn’t that how it should be? Shouldn’t a man smile any time he sees you or hears you if he really cares about you? If he’s crazy about you? This whole moment went from disaster to perfect in the blink of an eye.
“I saw your car around the corner, parked on the side street. You tried to hide it behind the dumpster, but I could see the scratch on the bumper from where you clipped a pillar in the firm parking garage. I figured that’s where you’d try to hide it. There aren’t a lot of options. Not to mention, the shadows come out from under your door when the sun is setting through your west windows.”
“It’s so creepy that you know all that.” I smile, even as I say the words. Part of me loves that he can’t see me, but I can see him.
“I think that’s what you like about me. How obsessed I am.”
In what world would a woman smile about a man admitting he’s obsessed and practically stalking her? But here I am, doing just that.
Here it is, Mary.
Moment of truth.
I want to see his reaction when he sees me. I want to read his eyes, see what they tell me, see if I can get a peek at his real intentions.
Slowly, I turn the knob and open the door.
His eyes don’t disappoint. They say everything I want them to say. His reactions tell the whole story. He’s a confident, cocky man, but I catch the slight reaction on his face, when all the breath leaves his lungs when he sees me, and I can nearly hear his pulse quicken.
I do my best to remain calm and just stare at him, despite the fact I can hear my own heart pound in my ears. Despite the tingles that shiver down from my head to my toes, I don’t know if I’ve ever taken a man’s breath away before. Just from him looking at me the way Rick’s looking at me. That’s never been me. I’ve always been the girl at the front of the class, the last one picked for dates and social gatherings, and first for a science project or to help out at the church.
His look says it all. He thinks I’m beautiful.
And, he tells me so.
“You look incredible.” The corners of his mouth turn up as he hands me the flower arrangement, then his eyes dip down and up at the speed of light. “Got yourself all dressed up for me, didn’t you, Mary?”
I try not to blush, but I’m sure I do. It’s impossible to hide how I feel right now, especially from him. He’s a private investigator. You can’t mask your thoughts from anyone at The Hunter Group. They all read people like hawks.
The only option left is give it right back to him. “You catch on quick.”
He laughs. “Take it you found the note on your desk. It’s 6:06, I’m not wasting another minute of my time with you.”
“I haven’t said I’m going yet,” I say, as I sniff the flowers. They’re gorgeous and smell heavenly. I set them down on a small table next to the door where I always drop my keys and purse.
Rick holds out a hand in front of me. “Oh, you’re going. Come on.”
“Is that so?”
He keeps his hand out in front of him, as if it’s an invitation. I think this may be the thing I admire most about him. Sure, he’s cocky and confident and pretending to be demanding about this, but beneath