Pen Pal

Feeling rattled but also brave because Jake is in the house—and it’s daytime—I decide to take a walk out to the water to investigate.

Bainbridge Island is only a thirty-five-minute ferry ride from Seattle, but it feels as if it’s on a different planet. Much of it is covered in thick cedar woods or dedicated to nature preserves, but there’s a quaint downtown area with cozy coffee shops, boutiques, and restaurants. Miles of trails that follow the rugged coastline and hilly interior make it a hiker’s paradise. At five miles wide and ten miles long, with a population of only twenty-five thousand, the island is small, but is also a perfect spot for people who work in the city but don’t want to live there.

Michael and I settled here when he accepted the position as head of the PhD program at the University of Washington.

That seems like a lifetime ago.

I was a different woman then. A younger, happier woman who hadn’t yet tasted any of life’s bitter betrayals.

How naïve we are when we’re young. How easily we trust that the sun will keep rising and setting, warming our days. And what a terrible blow it is to discover it isn’t the sun that makes things bright, but the people who love us, so that when they’re gone, everything is plunged into darkness.

The property covers more than two acres. It’s forested with mature evergreen trees and separated from the water’s edge by a long stretch of lawn and a narrow, rocky beach. Bundled in a heavy winter coat with a knit hat pulled down over my ears, I cross the back porch and take the steps down to the lawn, then follow the walking path to the water.

I avoid going anywhere near the dock or glancing in the direction of the boat tied to it.

Michael christened her Eurydice. I always hated that name. I told him it was bad luck to name a boat after a nymph from Greek mythology who got trapped in the underworld, but Michael said he liked it. He found it romantic that Eurydice’s husband, Orpheus, loved her so much, he followed her to hell to beg Hades for her release.

When I pointed out that the story ends in tragedy, Michael just laughed at me. “It’s only a story,” he said, and gave me a hug.

As it turns out, I was right. Greek myth or not, doomed is doomed.

Hindsight is a real bitch sometimes.

When I arrive at the tree I saw the man standing under, I look closely at the ground. If I can find footsteps, I’ll be able to tell where he ran off to. The ground is muddy around the trunk and bare of grass, so I should be able to spot something.

But there’s nothing there.

No footprints. No disturbed earth. No sign of the person who stood and stared at me.

My hair whipping around in the cold breeze, I turn and look back toward the house. From here, I can see directly into my office. The house sits slightly higher than the shoreline, but my office windows are large and the room is brightly lit. My drafting table faces the door, so when I sit there, the light and the window are at my back.

Which means someone might have been standing here staring at me as I’ve worked for some time now, and I wouldn’t have known.

I look both ways down the shore. It’s empty. My only company are the seagulls wheeling overhead and the dark waves lapping restlessly at the shoreline.

Whoever he was, he’s long gone.

A glint from the ground near my shoes catches my eye. I lean down and pick a coin out of the mud. I wipe it off with my thumb, and my breath catches.

It’s a buffalo nickel.

Minted between 1913 and 1938, the coins can be worth anywhere from thirty-five cents to three million dollars, depending on the year and condition. This particular coin is stamped 1937. It’s a D type, which shows the buffalo with only three legs instead of the usual four, and is worth exactly $2,560.00.

I know that because Michael had it valued. It had been his grandfather’s. He carried it everywhere with him. He swore it brought him luck.

And I found it buried in the mud under a tree a stranger was spying on me from behind.

My heart beating faster, I curl the coin in my fist and hurry back to the house, trying to convince myself that cold tingle down my spine is only the wind.

A few hours later, Jake has finished installing the security system.

Aidan has still not returned.

Jake shows me how to use the system hub, which he mounted on the wall in my office next to the light switch inside the door. Then he installs the app on my iPhone so I can view the video feeds in real time, so in case someone rings the doorbell, I’ll be able to see who’s there without leaving the room. He also put a camera above the back door that captures a wide-angle view of the yard.

“How long has this been recording?” I ask, wondering if it caught the man by the tree on camera.

“About twenty minutes. It just went live. You’ve got enough memory in the system for a week’s worth of imaging, then it will record over itself and erase the old stuff so you’re not paying for extra data storage, which can get pricey.”

So there’s no recording of the yard at the time I saw the figure. I’m disappointed, but there’s nothing to do about it. At least from now on, I’ll be able to see if he pays me another visit, even when I’m not around.

Jake says, “I’ve mounted code entry boxes at the front and back doors, and inside the garage next to the laundry room door. If the system is accidentally tripped while the alarm is armed, you’ve got thirty seconds to disarm it with your code before it automatically notifies us. If you don’t make it in time, tell your password to the operator who calls, and they’ll cancel the alarm.”

His smile is rueful. “And try not to let that happen, because we charge a hundred bucks every time you accidentally set off the alarm.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, we’re mercenaries.”

“I thought you owned the company?”

“I do.”

“So when you say ‘we,’ you actually mean you.”

He laughs. “You sound like my wife.”

“I bet she’s a highly intelligent woman.”

Grinning, he shakes his head. “Now you sound even more like her.”

“Great minds think alike. Out of curiosity, is there a way to get a notification on my phone if the cameras catch movement?”

“Sure, the app does that if you want me to set it up like that for you. Some folks don’t like it because you’ll get pinged every time a squirrel crosses the lawn or a car drives past the house. Can get annoying.”

“Is there a size setting? Like so maybe it will miss a squirrel but capture a person?”

“No, but I can reduce the field to where the camera will still record everything, but it will only produce an event notice and ping your phone if someone, say, walks within five feet of the door.”

This is all sounding a little more complicated than I’d hoped. I picture myself scrambling in panic for my phone every time it buzzes only to find a rodent scampering across the front porch.

“Let’s skip the notifications for now. I can always turn them on later, right?”

“Sure can. All I need from you now is for you to program your passcode into the hub. Then I’ll show you how to use the code box. Then we’re all finished.”

He walks me through the process of inputting my code and demonstrates how the system works, which doesn’t take long. Then he’s packing up and shaking my hand.

Walking him to the front door, I say, “I know I’m not supposed to mention the M word, but you have to let me do something for you, Jake. This was really above and beyond.”

“Don’t worry about it. If you keep what I said about Aidan between us, I’ll consider us even.”

I open the door and stand back to let him by. “I will. And thank you. Really. This means so much to me.”

He pauses to smile down at me. “Hope I see you again, Kayla. It’d be real nice if Aidan had a girl me and the wife could double-date with. I know he feels like a third wheel sometimes.”

Surprised to hear that, I say, “Has it been a while since he’s been serious with someone?”

He chuckles in a way that makes me think there’s a long and involved story behind it.

“You could say that. You take care, now.”

He ambles down the path to the driveway and climbs into his truck, waving as he revs the engine.

I wave back, go inside, and lock the door, hoping my new alarm system is unnecessary but not entirely believing it.

By the time Aidan returns, it’s dark.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says when I open the door to his knock. “Meeting was a clusterfuck. Almost missed the last ferry.” He glances past me into the foyer. “Okay if I come in?”

“Of course.”

I swing the door wide and step back to let him through it. He walks into the foyer and inspects the security code box on the wall. “Jake do a good job for you?”

Smiling, I close the door. “Jake’s awesome.”

He cuts his gaze to me. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like him.”

“You say that as if it’s a surprise.”

I shrug. “I’m not a fan of people in general. I take it on a case-by-case basis. But Jake’s a good egg.”

“He is,” he says softly, his eyes shining. “And same here about not being a fan of most people.”

“We should start a club. Introverts United, Seattle chapter. You can be the president.”

“We’re not introverts. We’re misanthropes. Big difference.”

“That reminds me. I’ve been meaning to tell you that I admire your vocabulary.”

Gazing down into my eyes and looking as if he’d like to grab me and gobble me up, he says gruffly, “Yeah? Anything else you admire, little rabbit?”

Hearing that nickname reminds me of our sexy chase around his kitchen table. My whole body turns warm. “I’ll make you a list.”

We gaze at each other for a moment until he reaches out and sweeps his thumb over my burning cheek.

He murmurs, “Good. You can recite it to me next time I’m inside you.”

Somebody just picked me up and dropped me into a volcano. Searing heat envelops my skin. The breath I pull into my lungs is scorching. I wouldn’t be surprised if I looked down to find all my clothes burnt to ashes in a pile at my feet.

When I lick my lips, there’s a moment where I’d swear he was about to lunge at me. But he controls himself, dropping his hand from my face and turning businesslike.

“I’m gonna get that tarp up now.”

“What? Now? It’s dark outside!”

“So?”

“So I don’t want you falling off my roof and breaking your neck!”

He stares intently at me, his gaze sharpening. “Two things.”

“Oh no. Why do I get the feeling this is going to end badly for me?”

Brushing right past that, he says, “Number one. I don’t fall off roofs, no matter how steep they are.”

I cross my arms over my chest and resist rolling my eyes.

“Number two,” he says more softly, “so what if I did break my neck?”

I blanch. “Aidan, that’s not funny.”

“Nobody’s laughing. Answer the question.”

He’s very serious now, gazing at me with burning intensity, an odd light behind his eyes. I don’t know why, but my pulse goes haywire.

I drop my arms to my sides and say, “Please don’t make me answer that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t think I’m ready for this conversation yet.”

“What conversation?”

He steps closer. His intensity burns even brighter. We stand inches apart, so close I can feel his body heat, but he doesn’t touch me. He merely gazes down at me with hooded eyes, waiting.

Staring up into his dark eyes, I whisper, “The conversation about how I feel about what’s happening between us.”

He says instantly, “Yeah, we’re gonna do that. Right now. Because I almost went fucking crazy thinking about you today, and if you’re not into this, I’d rather know sooner than later.”

I close my eyes and exhale a shaky breath. “Did you forget our little chat in the shower so quickly?”

“Nope. Look at me.”

I open my eyes. When he’s got me good and trapped in the bonfire of his gaze, he says, “I know you’re not comfortable getting close in your house, and I’m respecting that. Otherwise, I’d already have you naked. Understood?”

Damn, he’s intense. I swallow nervously and nod.

“Good. Now talk.”

I debate with myself in silence for a while, but Aidan doesn’t push. He simply stands there staring at me like I’m about to dispense some mystic secrets of the universe that have been lost to the human race since we were cave dwellers.

Finally, I say, “Okay. But I’d like to ask that after I say what I’m going to say, that you don’t make a big deal about it.”

“Define big deal.”

I huff out a breath and shake my head. “I think you know what I mean, Fight Club.”

A faint smile lifts his lips. “Yeah, I do. Just wanted to keep you talking.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a jerk?”

“Yeah. You. Twice. You didn’t mean it either time. Get back on track, and tell me what I need to hear.”

I thrust my hands into my hair, close my eyes, and count to ten. The man is impossible.

“You can stand there with your hands pressed against your head for as long as you want, but I’ll still be standing right here waiting.”

“I believe that.” I open my eyes, drop my arms to my sides, and stare up at him. “Okay, Aidan. Here’s the deal. I like you. Which I’m sure you already know, by the way, this is just your way of torturing me.”

I pause for a beat, but he doesn’t deny it, so I continue.

“If you fell off my roof and broke your neck, it would seriously fuck me up.”

When he opens his mouth to interrupt me, I hold up a hand. “I’m not finished. You’ll get your turn.”

A low growl of displeasure rumbles through his chest, but I ignore it.

“I’m very attracted to you.” Recalling how wantonly I rode his dick and how hard I came for him, the heat in my cheeks flares hotter. “I think we’ve already established that beyond any doubt. I also feel safe with you. And for some bizarre reason, I instinctively trust you, which doesn’t happen for me with anyone, but especially with men. It took six months of dating before I let my future husband see the inside of my apartment, so this thing we’ve got going on here, despite being brand-new, is different. I don’t know anything beyond that, and I hope you won’t press me for more, because I tend to act like a cornered wolf when I get backed up against a wall, and believe me when I tell you that’s not pretty.”

I fall silent. Fierce and unblinking, Aidan stares at me.

I add sheepishly, “I also, um, have never, uh, role played or whatever it was we were doing when you were chasing me around your apartment, and…”

Aidan practically shouts, “And?”

I blurt, “And I loved it. I want to do it again.”

Then I stand there vibrating with embarrassment and wishing I could take it back.

After an interminable period wherein I suffer in silent humiliation, Aidan says, “Okay.”

Disconcerted, I blink. “What do you mean, okay?”

His smile comes on slow and hot. “Just what I said.” He points at the ceiling. “I’m gonna go up on the roof and take care of that tarp now.”

And the bastard turns on his heel and walks out my front door.

He walks out!

I holler after him, “You know what? I was only joking! I made all that up!”

He can’t hear me, but it makes me feel better anyway.