Chapter 2

When I reach down to grab the passenger door handle, Kelly does it at the same time. Our hands touch briefly before she quickly jerks hers away.

"Sorry," she mumbles but doesn't look at me.

"Stop apologizing." I stand there, still not opening the door because I want her to look at me. No, I need her to do it.

"What?" She blinks in my direction as her expression changes to concern.

"I think you've done enough of that for one day." I wait a heartbeat and finally, finally she turns those soft brown eyes to mine. It hits me like a release and, fuck, it's almost as good as cumming.

She doesn't say anything as I open her door and wait for her to get in. The car is quiet after I get in and drive away from Bruce's house. It's not until I hand her my phone that she talks to me.

"What's this for?"

"Put in your address."

"Oh." She hesitates and glances at the screen. "It's locked."

"Six, six, four, four, zero, zero."

"You shouldn't give out your password," she says as she keys it in.

"I don't." It's true. I run one of the best security firms in the city, and I know the dangers of giving people access to my information. But something tells me Kelly is someone I can trust.

I've always been someone who trusted their gut, and when I saw her standing there in Bruce's office, something triggered inside me. Then she asked about the wedding and I got the sense she wasn't sad. In fact, it felt like she was worried. The more I watched her, the more I got the feeling that she was already making plans. For what, I have no idea, but it's like I could almost see the gears in her mind churning.

"Here."

When she hands me the phone and I look at the address, I have to do a double-take. "You live in Drayton?" I glance at her and she nods before folding her hands in her lap. "That's not a safe part of town for a woman to live on her own."

"I don't live on my own." She looks out the window, and I bet if I stopped asking her questions she wouldn't say another word to me. Too bad for her, I've got no plans to stop now.

"Who do you live with?"

"My father."

"Will he be disappointed about the wedding?"

"Yes." She says it like it's an end to a long sentence, and I see her shoulders slump a fraction.

"Are you?"

She looks over at me, and I see her pulling back some of that resolve she had earlier. "Of course."

"Liar."

Her eyes narrow, and I see a little fire in them. I like it.

"I'm not lying."

"Hmm."

"Hmm what?" Now she's defensive, and I can't help the corner of my mouth turning up.

"Let me rephrase. Are you disappointed you're not marrying Paul?"

"Oh." She blinks a few times but recovers quickly. "Of course."

When I stop at the red light, I turn my head and lean closer to her. Her eyes widen as she looks at my mouth, and I grin. "Liar," I whisper, and she presses her lips together in a thin line.

After a second, she straightens her spine and looks out the window. "You don't know me."

"I know how to read people." When the light changes, I keep driving, but I'm in no hurry to get her home. "What do you do for work?"

"I thought you could read people." She's haughty in her response, and I grin again.

"I can guess."

"Oh yeah? Give it a go."

There's another red light, and when I'm stopped I take a long look up and down her body. I'm slow about it, and after a moment she begins to fidget as her cheeks flush.

"Something with people?" I hedge.

"Is that all you've got?" She huffs and shakes her head. "I think you like hearing yourself talk."

"You're a housekeeper," I say, and she snaps her head in my direction as her eyes widen.

"How did you guess that?"

"I'm psychic."

She turns in her seat to face me and crosses her arms over her chest. "Seriously, I want to know."

"Are you sure?" When she nods, I decide to tell her the truth. "Your nails are clean and short, which means you most likely work with your hands and/or water. Your shoes are made for comfort, and your jeans have spots of bleach on them."

"That could mean a lot of things."

"True, but the neighborhood you live in suggests a lifestyle of cash and word-of-mouth business." I glance over, and she's not looking at me anymore. "Hey, I do this for a living, it"s my job to notice things like this."

"Paul didn't know. Please don't say anything to anyone."

"I wouldn't?—"

"It's not your business." She cuts me off, and I watch as she reaches down and grabs her bag. "I'm not your business."

"Kelly, I'm sorry—" She's out of the car and slamming the door behind her before I can react. I'm locked in by the cars around me at the red light, and all I can do is watch her running down a side street. "Fuck."

It feels like forever before the light changes, but when it does, I drive in the direction of her address. When I get to the street, I drive up and down it twice before I realize what she's done. The number she put in is for a business and not a residence.

I stare at the glowing yellow sign that flashes "Psychic on Duty"and let out a breath of frustration. Guess I should have seen that coming.