She sighed and pulled away from him as she walked into her living room. Greer followed her and perched himself on the oversized arm of her sofa.
“I took the position with UW two years ago so it would be convenient to research the Friendship Community. I have a grant to support my research and my department has encouraged this line of research. Now, for some reason that I don’t understand, things are getting a little tense between me and the department. Honestly, I feel as if my annual review may not go well. First the spray painting on the building, now the run-in with the WKB.” She folded her arms. “I’m afraid the provost is going to ask me to shut my research down.”
“How can he do that? You aren’t using university funds. What about academic freedom? Aren’t you supposed to pursue your own research interests?”
“He’s afraid of the WKB, thinks they’ll endanger the university and its students.”
“Why?”
The professor sat on the coffee table. Her knees were pressed together, her palms on her knees. “The WKB shares a border with the Friendship Community. They have, it seems, some kind of a relationship. They help one another. I don’t yet understand the particulars.”
“Have other things happened involving the WKB?”
Her eyes slowly rose to meet his. “Maybe.” Her lips pressed together, then a long breath slowly left her. “I didn’t connect the dots at first. Outlaw biker gangs aren’t always rational organisms. I’ve had them swarm my car twice, when no one was around. I almost crashed the second time. After that, I saw them everywhere I went. Once, they even followed me into a grocery store.”
“Did they ever say anything to you?”
“No. Things got quiet for a while, then the graffiti happened. My department chair said this was why the provost wanted me to stop my research into the Friendship Community. So I’m already on thin ice with him.”
“Seems the WKB thinks you have your research on your laptop. Do you?”
“Some of it.”
Greer lowered his head and rubbed his forehead as he considered the implications. What had she stumbled upon? Would it help their mission?
“I think your department chair is right. I think you should put a hold on things. For a little while.”
She huffed a sharp breath as she gave him a weak smile. “I don’t intimidate easily. If I’ve stirred up a bees’ nest, then I’m close to the honey.”
“Oh, you’re close, all right. Close to being taken out.” He caught her gaze and held it.
“The very fact that my life is even in the equation means something’s going on there that shouldn’t be.”
“You keep saying they are pacifists, but it seems you have your doubts.”
She sent him a measuring look, then began pacing. “There’s an undercurrent in their community that I can’t quite identify. It could simply be reticence on the part of their council to have me there. I don’t know. Whatever it is, it’s discordant with the way they present themselves.”
“What’s so important about the Friends that it’s worth your life?”
“Studying the social behavior of isolationist societies is what I do. I’ve documented fourteen other groups. I have over four hundred federally recognized societies to go. I want to know everything there is to know about all of them.”
“Why?” He stood and moved into her path, blocking her pacing.
She looked up at him. “If we can’t study our social behaviors, how can we really understand anything about each other? How do we know what our societal weaknesses and strengths are? Social science helps us see the structures that shape our lives—many of which we’re not even aware of, yet they inform our behavior and dictate our choices. Studying them may help us understand how to improve society. What’s more important than that?”
Greer reached out and caught a slim stream of her hair. He ran his fingers down its red-brown length. “Your life?”
She shut her eyes and lowered her head, leaning her cheek against his hand. An electric current jumped between them at the contact, one that made his skin tingle and set his nerves on edge.
“Thank you for being here tonight, making sure I’m safe.”
Greer sighed. He drew her into his arms. Pulling her close seemed the right thing to do. She was so little, so slight against his body. She was taking on the world, standing alone against the Friends, the WKB, and the university. Hell, the whole damned world was weighing down her shoulders.
“Doc—”
“Call me Remi.”
“Remi. Do you have friends or family you can stay with? A boyfriend? Maybe put this project on hold for a little while so things can cool down?”
“No.”
Her hands on his hips distracted him. “No to pausing the project or no to the other stuff?”
“All of it.” She looked up at him with her dark forest-green eyes.
“Look, I could crash on your couch for a few hours…”
She shrugged. “I have a perfectly comfortable bed upstairs.”
He stared at her, wondering if he was mistaking what he saw there. It had been a long fucking time since a woman gave him such an invitation. He touched her face with the tips of his fingers, then bent forward to kiss her. Her mouth was soft against his.
Aw, hell. Maybe she meant her guest room. “Doc—” He hesitated, despite his own throbbing desire.
“Remi,” she corrected.
“You’re just scared. You don’t want this.” He held her face in his hands as he offered her a last out and silently begged her to take it.
“You’re right. And you’re wrong. I am scared.” She looked up at him, her palms flat against his ribs, under his shirt. “And I do want this.”
He stroked her face, along the edge of her hair. Her skin was warm. Gone was the pallor that had claimed her since the incident at the university. Color now flushed her cheeks.
He smoothed his thumb over her lips, then kissed her in a closed-mouth touch of lips. Hers were soft and full. Still holding her face, he deepened the kiss, waiting for her to shut him down each step of the way, as if she were patched in to his ex’s hate and fear.