When he kissed me the first time, it was awkward. But now? Maybe if he wasn’t so good at it, it wouldn’t be such a complicated thing. Why did he have to be so damn good at it?
I sat on the edge of the massive, king-sized bed and buried my face in my hands for a minute. And the way he looked at me… All through dinner I could feel his eyes on me. But not just his. That sister of his was so curious. She stared at me, watched my every move, hung on every word out of my mouth. I felt like she was watching for the smallest mistake, the proof that I wasn’t what I was claiming to be. What would happen if she figured it out? Would she blow my cover? What if the potential thief was here at this house right now? What if she blew our investigation, and everything Lucien had worked on was ruined? I couldn’t let that happen.
I just… I felt like I was about to fight the biggest battle of my life, and I was completely unprepared.
“They can be a little overwhelming, can’t they?”
I jumped, startled by the sound of Jacob’s deep voice. I hadn’t even realized he’d arrived at the house, let alone had found me behind the closed door of Lucien’s bedroom.
He was watching me from his casual stance leaning against the doorframe.
“When did you get here?”
“Just a few minutes ago.”
He pushed away from the door and came deeper into the room, his eyes falling to my open suitcase on the end of the bed. One of those fancy bras Theresa made me buy was sitting on top, its rounded cups leaving little mystery as to what it was meant to hold. The way he bit his bottom lip made me feel uncomfortable, as though we were doing something for which I should rush to confession to clear my soul of.
I stood and backed up a little.
“We should go back out.”
“In a minute.” Jacob’s eyes came up to mine, his dark eyes like little pebbles as he studied my face. “Lucien isn’t like most of the men you’ve probably dated. He’s not the kind who brings a woman home lightly.”
I gestured toward the French doors that led out onto the back deck where we could hear the low voices of his parents. “Your sister has made that pretty clear.”
“He’s had his heart broken as often as the rest of us. Maybe more,” he continued, as though I hadn’t spoken. “He’s been through a lot in his life. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt again.”
“We’ve only just met, Jacob.”
“That’s why I’m telling you this.” His eyes moved slowly over me, lingering in places where they shouldn’t have. I crossed my arms over my chest, and that brought his attention back to my face. “I won’t stand idly by and watch you break his heart. Little bar flies like you are a dime a dozen. But Lucien…” He shook his head. “He’s worth so much more than that.”
Anger burned in my chest. A bar fly? I wasn’t some little slut who hung out in dark bars just waiting for some guy to have pity on me and buy me a drink. I had so much more self-respect than that. I could take this guy out with one well-placed punch to the throat. And I would have, under any other circumstances.
But this was a case. It was my job to keep Lucien safe. Knocking out his brother wasn’t going to do that.
“What’s going on?”
I turned, relieved for once to see Lucien’s tall frame standing just a few feet away.
“Nothing,” Jacob said, his eyes moving over me one last time. “Just saying hello.”
“I’d say you’ve done that. So maybe you’ll give us a little privacy?”
Jacob nodded, ducking around Lucien without really looking at him. Lucien shut the door and stood there for a moment, resting his head against the cool wood for a long moment.
“I was just sitting here, and he came—”
“Could you get some juice out of that fridge for me?” Lucien said, interrupting me.
I glanced at him. He hadn’t moved, but still stood with his head against the door. I’d seen the small fridge tucked into a corner near the bed, but hadn’t really registered what it was. I wondered why he couldn’t get his own damn juice, but I went over there and grabbed one of these little pouches of juice that parents buy for their toddlers and carried it to him. He didn’t look up, and when he reached for it, his hand was shaking.
“Could you do the straw?” he asked.
There was something off about the tone of his voice. Was he angry at me for being alone in here with Jacob? It wasn’t like we were really a couple, despite all the touching and the kisses we’d exchanged. He really had no right to be angry.
I stabbed the straw into the bag and handed it back to him. He sipped at it, his eyes closed as he continued to stand with his back to me. When it was empty, he dropped it onto the floor and pulled something out of his pocket that looked like a small handheld game console or something.
Hell of a time to play games.
He watched its screen for a moment. I peeked at it, saw nothing more than a graph, the number fifty-five, and an arrow that was pointed downward.
“I’m sorry. Could you get me another juice?” he asked, his voice kind of weak.