Chapter 9 - RealKissing Nora Bennett was a tactical error.
I knew this approximately half a second after it began.
Because once I knew what she tasted like, every fake moment from the previous twenty-four hours immediately became intolerable.
Her hands gripped my jacket.
Mine held her face.
The warehouse disappeared.
The agents.
Daniel.
Miles being dragged into custody.
My father's ghosts.
For several seconds, there was only Nora.
Then someone cleared his throat.
Loudly.
Nora jumped backward.
Daniel stood nearby.
“I hate to interrupt whatever criminally inappropriate timing this is…”
I stared at him.
He raised his hands.
“…but Agent Mercer needs statements.”
Nora's cheeks turned red.
I wanted to fire Daniel again.
Instead I looked at Nora.
“You okay?”
She touched her mouth.
“Yes.”
That wasn't convincing.
“Regret it?”
Her eyes snapped toward mine.
“No.”
Good.
Very good.
Then she added, “Do you?”
“No.”
“Fast answer.”
“I've had enough uncertainty this week.”
She smiled.
Agent Claire Mercer interviewed us separately.
The federal investigation widened quickly.
Miles's accounts.
Jonathan Harper's old records.
Victor Salerno's operation.
Bennett Events.
Warehouse Nine.
My own organization.
That last part became inconvenient.
Mercer sat across from me inside one of the warehouse offices.
“You understand that cooperating on Harper doesn't erase your history.”
“I didn't ask it to.”
“We have questions.”
“You always do.”
“Cole.”
“Mercer.”
She sighed.
We had met before.
Twice.
Neither encounter pleasant.
“Why are you helping?”
“My father.”
“And Nora Bennett?”
I looked through the glass.
Nora sat with Daniel.
“She isn't relevant.”
Mercer followed my gaze.
“Obviously.”
I ignored her.
The investigation lasted through sunrise.
At five thirty, I drove Nora back to my house.
She fell asleep in the car.
I watched her for most of the ride.
That bothered me.
I had kissed women before.
Loved one, maybe, years ago.
But Nora had arrived like an administrative mistake.
A stranger with a checklist and ten hundred-dollar bills.
Now every part of my life seemed reorganized around whether she was safe.
At the house, I considered waking her.
Instead I carried her upstairs.
She woke halfway.
“I can walk.”
“I know.”
“Control problem.”
“Sleep.”
She rested her head against my shoulder.
“Bossy.”
“Yes.”
I placed her on the guest bed.
As I turned away, her fingers caught mine.
“Stay.”
One word.
Nothing suggestive.
Nothing complicated.
And somehow more intimate than the kiss.
I sat in the chair beside the bed.
She fell asleep holding my hand.
At nine, Elena found us.
She said nothing.
Her smile said enough.
By afternoon, the Bennetts arrived.
All of them.
Diane entered first.
She saw Nora and immediately pulled her into an embrace.
Nora froze.
Then hugged her mother back.
Diane cried.
I had not expected that.
“I am sorry,” she whispered. “I am so sorry.”
Nora's face changed.
Years of conflict didn't disappear.
But anger became smaller than relief.
Richard embraced his daughter next.
Catherine.
James.
Rose arrived last.
She looked at Nora.
Then me.
Then smiled.
“I knew it.”
Nora groaned.
“Grandma.”
“What?”
“You knew nothing.”
“I knew enough.”
Diane approached me later.
The conversation was awkward.
Good.
I preferred enemies to gratitude.
“Mr. Cole.”
“Evan.”
She hesitated.
“Thank you for bringing my daughter home.”
“You don't owe me thanks.”
“I do.”
She glanced toward Nora.
“I've made mistakes.”
I said nothing.
“Apparently many.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
I almost smiled.
“You aren't going to make this easy?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She surprised me.
“I don't think Nora needs anyone making her life easy anymore.”
For the first time, I reconsidered Diane Bennett.
Not fully.
But slightly.
That evening, after everyone left, Nora found me in my office.
I was reviewing security reports.
She knocked against the open door.
“Busy?”
“Yes.”
She entered anyway.
I liked that.
She sat across from me.
“We need to talk.”
Four words every man dislikes.
“About?”
“The kiss.”
Worse.
I placed down my pen.
“What about it?”
“Was it adrenaline?”
“No.”
She blinked.
“You could pretend to think.”
“I already know.”
Nora looked down.
“I don't want to become another thing you control.”
There it was.
The real problem.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“I want the bakery.”
“You should have it.”
“I want my own apartment again eventually.”
“You should.”
“I want to make decisions you hate.”
“You already do.”
She smiled.
“I want to argue with you without twelve armed men appearing.”
“That one may require negotiation.”
“Evan.”
“Fine.”
She leaned forward.
“And if this…”
She gestured between us.
“…becomes something, I don't want your money deciding everything.”
I understood.
Far more than she realized.
“My father taught me money could become another man's leash.”
Her expression softened.
“I won't put one around you.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
She studied me.
“Then I have another problem.”
“What?”
“You're still terrifying.”
“Can't help that.”
“And secretive.”
“Working on it.”
“Controlling.”
“Debatable.”
“No.”
“Fine.”
“And…”
She hesitated.
I waited.
“…I really want to kiss you again.”
Every rational thought vanished.
I stood.
Nora immediately stood too.
“See?”
“What?”
“Terrifying.”
“You're the one who came into my office.”
“True.”
I walked around the desk.
Stopped in front of her.
“This time there's no warehouse.”
“No.”
“No kidnapping.”
“Preferably never again.”
“No fake contract.”
She smiled.
“No.”
I touched her waist.
“And you're sure?”
Nora placed her hands against my chest.
“Yes.”
I kissed her.
Slower this time.
No adrenaline.
No fear.
Which made it worse.
Or better.
Probably both.
When we separated, she rested her forehead against mine.
“So what are we?”
“Dating.”
She laughed.
“You can't just declare that.”
“Why?”
“Because normal people discuss it.”
“We just did.”
“That wasn't a discussion.”
“What do you want?”
She considered.
“One real date.”
“Fine.”
“No security visibly sitting beside us.”
“Three tables away.”
“Five.”
“Four.”
“Deal.”
“No buying the restaurant.”
“I already own several.”
“Different restaurant.”
“Fine.”
She smiled.
“And flowers.”
“How many?”
“Normal amount.”
I thought about the question.
“What is a normal amount?”
Her eyes widened.
“Oh no.”
The next morning, one hundred roses arrived.
Nora stared at them in the foyer.
Then at me.
“This is not normal.”
“I reduced the order.”
“From what?”
I didn't answer.
Her mouth opened.
Elena started laughing.
Nora picked up one rose.
“You are impossible.”
“Still dating me?”
She looked at the flower.
Then smiled.
“Yes.”
My phone rang.
Daniel.
His voice killed the moment.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We found the Bennett archive.”
“And?”
“There's a sealed envelope addressed to Thomas Cole.”
My father.
“Where?”
“Written on it?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What does it say?”
“Give this to Evan if anything happens to me.”
I stopped breathing.
May you like
The handwriting belonged to Richard Bennett.
Nora's father.
