Secrets - [Guardian Trilogy 01] (10 page)

“Yes, some things don’t,” I agreed with them. “We’ve only been here two minutes and already the two of you are ganging up on me.”

“Oh yes, you’re so abused.”

My father had passed away a year or so earlier, and it still made my mom sad to go to church alone, so I went with her every Sunday, with Juliet often joining us as well. The church parking lot was crowded, but we eventually found a spot. Inside the sanctuary was another matter, however. Mass was just beginning, but three spaces together were nowhere to be found. The usher led us to a two person spot near the front, which I let mom and Juliet have, taking the single in the back on the side. I sat down and joined in the familiar liturgy, which calmed my mind and brought an inner peace.

It wasn’t until we were directed to greet to our fellow members that I looked at the people around me. After I shook hands and mumbled, “Good morning,” to the people just behind me and just in front of me, I turned to my left—sitting right next to me was the man from the park. He too appeared to be alone.

What are the odds
?

I extended my hand to him. A surprised look flickered in his extraordinary brown eyes, but he took my hand in his large warm grip and squeezed lightly, sending tingles through my arm. I have no idea what expression my face made, but I was rewarded with a dimpled grin. I forced myself to let go of his hand since everyone else was turning back towards the priest. I shot him glances out of the corner of my eye throughout the rest of the mass, however—and every time his warm eyes were waiting for mine. When the service finally ended and people began to file out, I turned to him.

“Haven’t I seen you before?”

 “You’re observant,” he stated in a rich baritone, again flashing one of the most endearing smiles I had ever seen.

“You don’t normally come to this church, do you?” I asked.

“No, just visiting.”

He didn’t elaborate, but looked at me patiently as if waiting for me to catch up on something. I frowned. “And your visit—it’s not a coincidence, is it?”

“No.” I started to ask another question, but Mom and Juliet were waving at me to hurry up. “Now’s not the time for this discussion. We’ll talk another time,” he said and started to walk away in the other direction.

“But how will I find you?” I called.

“Don’t worry. I’ll find you.”

By the time it occurred to me that he didn’t even know my name, he was gone.

“Come on already. What are you doing?” Juliet asked from behind me.

“I was talking to the person sitting next to me. He’s . . .” I let the sentence trail off having no idea how to finish it.

“He? That’s good news. Is this one as good looking as the bar guy?”

“Holden.”

“Holden?”

“The bar guy’s name is Holden. They’re different looking. Both attractive but in different ways.”

“What did this one look like?”

“Softer, nice, mid-thirties, and dimples.”

“Not bad. Did you get his number?”

 “Mom’s waiting.”

Juliet followed me out, shaking her head at my hopelessness, and we headed back to the house to prepare lunch. Mom had invited several of her friends to lunch, along with the poor, unsuspecting Chandler. The three of us moved around the kitchen with ease and everything was coming along nicely when the doorbell rang indicating the first guest’s arrival. I was started towards the door when mom stopped me to smooth down my hair and give my grass green dress a once over, making sure I was still presentable.

“You look very pretty,” she stated with satisfaction. The first couple guests were friends of hers. I made small talk with them and played hostess. The next guest was the dreaded Chandler, and he seemed like a perfectly nice person.

“So, Chandler, how did you get roped into this?”

“What?”

“How did you get invited to lunch? I mean, where’d you meet my mom?”

“Oh, I work at her bank.’

I laughed. Only my mother would invite a random person from her bank over to meet her single daughter. Chandler looked uncomfortable at the notion he had somehow missed the joke. I continued to try to speak with him, but small talk was nearly impossible. He was incapable of giving me anything more than one-word answers. It felt like I was interrogating him.

Finally lunch was served, saving me from further awkward conversations. I grabbed my plate and escaped into the backyard, making my way over to the old swing set in the corner of the yard near some trees. Safely out of the view of the kitchen window, I sat gingerly on the swing and balanced the plate on my lap. Clouds blanketed the sky giving everything a grey tint. The neighborhood was quiet. I closed my eyes and let out a long breath. It was lovely to be alone again after the busy gallery event and then church. . . . I didn’t like crowds.

“Thinking about me?” said a low, increasingly familiar voice. My eyes popped open. Was he really here and not just in my head? Not just my head—Holden occupied the swing next to mine, lounging like he was at a photo shoot with dark sunglasses, designer jeans, and un-tucked black collared shirt open at the neck. A wolfish grin completed his ensemble. He was the picture of someone I should know better than to mess around with.

I should say something clever, or better yet—something devastatingly charming—not just stare at him dumbly, I thought, but of course words failed me. There was a reason why he shouldn’t be here, but for the life of me I couldn’t think of what it was with him in such a close proximity.

“Hi,” I finally said. Yep, out of all the witty, intelligent, flirty things I
could have
said that was the best I could do. I was so obviously not a pressure player.

“Hi,” Holden repeated quietly, leaning his face closer to mine looking vaguely amused. This intimacy snapped me out of the cloud his presence settled over my senses. Leaning back into my own swing, I moved away from him and frowned. I received the full wattage of his sharp smile, which did strange things to my body.

“What on earth are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.”

A flush of happiness washed through me, but it felt wrong.

“How did you know where I was?”

“I followed you,” he said so easily and confidently that it took me a moment to remember that wasn’t normal for anyone who wasn’t a stalker—and being a stalker is never a good thing.

“You
followed
me?”

“What? Twice, I caught you digging through my
subconscious
All I did was follow you to your mother’s house for a little conversation. You tell me which is more invasive? Which is worse?”

“Like I had a choice. I didn’t mean to—” My defensive nature reared its ugly head and I was settling in for a fight, when a glaring error message starting blinking in neon in my mind. “Wait, how do you know about my dreams?”

“Your dreams, my reality.” He shrugged it off as if it was normal. “After the second night, I knew I had to meet you.”

“That’s why you came to my show? You pretended you didn’t know who I was. You told me to stay away—”

“Well, you shouldn’t be poking around in other people’s minds.” He grinned. “It’s rude.”

“This is crazy—”

“It’s life.”

“This isn’t possible. It’s just not possible! I don’t know who you are, but you need to leave. You can’t go around following people like this. You weren’t invited here. All of this is crazy!” My rant became nearly hysterical and higher pitched with each word. Too many conflicting emotions flooded over me. I couldn’t breathe. I was insane—and hallucinating Holden. That idea only made me panic more. The world closed in around me.

“Olivia.” I felt two firm hands shake me gently. Some sort of energy passed from him into me. More delusions, Christ I was in trouble. “Olivia, take a breath.” Before I knew it the hands had moved from my shoulders to my cheeks. “Breathe, Olivia, just breathe.” My vision was almost completely black, but still the panic didn’t loosen its grip. More tingling energy passed into me, but my world continued to compress. “Damn it.” I felt his mouth touch mine—not softly, with aggression.

With the kiss, a tidal wave of desire and need released within me, filling every one of my senses and pooling in molten clumps in the deep recesses of my brain. The shock of the act forced me to draw a breath. My mind was completely clear of any thought whatsoever. It was running purely on lust. My hands found their way to the back of his neck and pulled him closer. My plate tumbled to the ground. I felt like I was home in the most basic sense. Somewhere in the distance I faintly heard a dog barking, but other than that the world ceased to exist. Holden’s hands slowly drifted down the sides of my neck then came to a rest on my shoulders.

Gently, but firmly, he pushed me back. My hands, however, stayed laced behind his neck. I couldn’t tell if his eyes ever met mine because of his dark glasses. He easily unclasped my hands and placed them back on the chain of the swing—then he stood up and paced in front of me, looking down towards the ground.

“I’m—” I started, but he held up a hand to stop me. I sat quietly, watching him mull over everything while absently chewing on the corner of his lip. My mind overflowed with questions. First of all, how could I be entering his
subconscious
at night? It was utterly ridiculous. I’d never even heard of anything remotely similar happening—even in movies. I saw him and had strange, vivid, disturbing dreams about him—dreams! They couldn’t be anything else. But how did he know about them? Were we sharing dreams? Was that possible? Second, why was he following me? How did he find me in the first place? The bar could have been coincidence, but not the gallery too. Third, what was this reaction I had to him? I mean, wow. Just thinking of the kiss made my heart flutter. And I’m not a fluttery heart kind of girl.

Holden’s voice broke into my ponderings, sounding strained and confused. “It’s no good. I have to leave.” It was more like he was thinking out loud than telling me.

I was out of the swing in a second, grabbing his hand before he could run away. I had so many questions. Despite his words, his legs seemed reluctant to move. The moment I touched his hand, I had the same feeling as when I opened the red door in my dream.
This was wrong, I shouldn’t have done it.
He was dangerous and I knew nothing about him. When I touched him all of my senses sent out warnings to my brain as if I was touching a rabid animal. He tore his hand from mine and stalked off without a word of explanation. I watched him leave, too shocked to try to stop him, too scared to show weakness by running away. 

Suddenly, the backyard didn’t seem like a peaceful escape. It was as lonely and desolate as the desert in my dream. I was very aware how alone I was. Images from the night before began creeping into my mind. The face I saw in the window looking at me—that impossible face. Those impossible dreams. Two men randomly appearing in my life without warning—two men who knew where I was at any given time. The impossible list of recent events only seemed to be growing.

“Olivia,” my mother called from the door.

“Yes?”

“You have a phone call.” I started walking back towards the house, my legs still a little wobbly. “What are you doing out here? We have guests.”

“Sorry, I needed some air,” I mumbled as I walked past her into the house. I picked up the phone.

“Hello”

“Ms. Olivia Martin?”

“Yes?”

“Hello, my name is Detective Sullivan. I’m calling in regards to Christopher Meyer?”

“Yes?”

“What is your relationship with Mr. Meyer?”

“He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

“Ma’am, there’s been an incident. Could you come down to the station this afternoon?”

“An incident? What kind of incident?”

“We’ll discuss that at the station.”

Seeing no other choice, I agreed. It figured that Christopher had gotten his perpetually stupid ass in trouble again. Like I didn’t have my own problems to deal with—and what kind of man cheats on a girl repeatedly and still expects her to bail him out of jail?