The Dare Collection July 2019. Nicola MarshЧитать онлайн книгу.
It had been a long day and she didn’t have the energy to reassure her mother—and through her mother, her father—that she was doing just fine in the big, scary city. She knew for a fact that Aaron hadn’t been subjected to these worried phone calls when he moved here.
She took a deep breath and put as much smile into her voice as she was capable of. “Hey, Mom.”
“Trish, there you are! I was worried when you didn’t pick up.”
That was her mother. The eternal worrier. She’d been born and raised in Lake Placid and had always harbored a hope that her daughters would do the same. Trish’s older sister, Mary, had followed that path. She’d married her high school sweetheart and settled in after college to become an elementary school teacher. Mary was practically perfect in every way. She didn’t keep her mother up at night, worrying herself to death.
No, that role had always fallen to Trish.
She kicked her cheerfulness up a notch—the only way to combat her mother’s concern when she got like that. “I was just about to sit down to dinner.”
“Dinner? Trish, it’s after seven. You haven’t been working this whole time! Aaron said that partner of his was a good boss, but if he’s got you working twelve-hour days, that’s abuse!” Her voice took on strident tones.
Trish repressed a sigh. “Mom, you’re getting worked up for no reason. I’m eating late because I stopped by Aaron’s to see my new niece and got distracted with her adorableness.” There’s no need to lead an army down here to haul me back home. An army of three—her mom, her dad and Mary—but no less fearsome for its numbers. Though her mom hadn’t been happy about her needing to move back home after college, she hadn’t exactly shed a tear to have her youngest daughter under their roof again. Now she was treating this move like Trish had left for college all over again.
And was just as helpless and out of her element as she’d been at eighteen.
“I worry about you. That city—”
“Mom.” If she didn’t do something drastic, her mother would end up on an hour-long spiel about all the ways she could get mugged or worse in New York. It didn’t matter that Trish had found an apartment crazy close to where she worked or that she’d pulled it from a list that Aaron himself had put together. New York City terrified their mother and she would spill that feeling over at every opportunity, whether she meant to or not.
Unless Trish distracted her, she’d be up all night running scenarios—each more terrifying than the last—and her mother would call tomorrow and be a total mess. She cast a longing look at her cooling Chinese food and resigned herself to a reheated meal. “Did Aaron send you the pictures he took of Summer? She was especially cute today. He says she can’t really smile yet, but I swear to God she was smiling at me.”
The distraction worked. Her mother went on to gush about how Aaron did a video call with her and the baby, and wasn’t his fiancée the sweetest thing, though goodness, they should be married by now if they’re having babies. Through it all, Trish’s mind wandered...right back to Cameron.
She wanted him to kiss her again.
Or, rather, she wanted to kiss him again. To do more than kiss. To break half a dozen rules and regulations that she wasn’t even sure Tandem Security had in place.
Not to mention that Aaron might lose his damn mind if he finds out I’m lusting after his business partner.
She blinked, realizing that her mother had been silent for a beat too long. Trish faked a yawn. “Mom, I have to go. I have a big day tomorrow, and I want a full night’s rest.”
The silence extended for a beat. Another. Then her mother sniffled. “I just wish you were here.”
Oh good Lord. She was going to devolve to sobbing next, and Trish was too tired to be sure she wouldn’t snap in response. She was twenty-fucking-four years old. She couldn’t live at home forever. She understood that her mother’s empty-nest syndrome was in full force, but Trish couldn’t form her entire freaking life around making her mother feel fulfilled. Not that her mom wanted her to. Not exactly. She was just emotional and weepy and Trish wasn’t capable of stepping back and cutting the cord fully. It would hurt her mom and she didn’t deal out pain—only good things.
So she cleared her throat and smiled so hard that her cheeks hurt. “Mom, how am I supposed to find a man to make an honest woman of me and have a bunch of babies for you to spoil if I’m living in the same room I’ve had since birth? Aaron needs me right now. I can’t leave him hanging.”
Leveraging Aaron’s name got her mom back under control. She gave another sniffle, but the wavering quality of her voice evened out. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. It’s just so hard not seeing you.”
“I know, Mom.” She touched the side of her Chinese food container and sighed. Cold. “I’ll talk to you later.”
It took another five minutes to actually end the call, and by the time she did, it was all she could do to sink onto her couch. Trish stared at her cold dinner and fought against the burning in her throat. She wasn’t overwhelmed. She was capable and positive and could handle anything the world threw at her.
But, God, she was so tired.
“I should eat.” Her words barely diminished the growing silence in her apartment. She should turn on the television or do something to get some ambient noise going so she didn’t feel quite so alone, but Trish just couldn’t work up the energy to reach for the remote.
She closed her eyes. I’ll just rest here for a minute...
* * *
Cameron checked his watch for the sixth time in the last thirty seconds. There was no denying it—Trish was late. He stalked to the boardroom, half expecting to find her passed out under the table after a long night of ignoring his order, but it was just as drab and empty as it had been yesterday.
She didn’t live that far away. How the hell was she late on her third day here?
He paced across the front office and back again and shot a glare at the elevators. Another look at his phone confirmed she hadn’t answered his texts or responded to his missed calls. She was too damn excited about painting to have gone out drinking last night...wasn’t she?
When it came down to it, he didn’t know much about Trish at all. She was Aaron’s sister. She was good at her job. She was far too peppy for his comfort. That about summed up his knowledge.
And she doesn’t follow safety instructions particularly well.
Cameron stopped short. She was hurt. That had to be it. She wouldn’t be late for anything other than a catastrophic reason, and if it involved Aaron and his family, Cameron would have heard about it. Which meant it had happened either in her apartment or somewhere in transit.
She could be injured right now, and he’d wasted time when he could have been helping her.
Not willing to wait for the elevator, he charged down the stairs. Seconds later, he was on the street, nearly running for her place. Thank God she only lives a few blocks away. Cameron made it there in record time. He keyed in the code Aaron had given him for safety reasons and then stopped short. He didn’t know which apartment was hers.
Cursing under his breath, he yanked his phone out of his pocket and called Aaron. Cameron barely waited for his partner to answer before he cut in. “What’s Trish’s apartment number?”
Just like that, the sleepiness was gone from his friend’s voice. “It’s 3b. Why?”
“Call you in a few.” He hung up and took the stairs again, nearly sprinting. He had no idea how he’d get into her apartment if she wasn’t able to answer the door. Should have thought that through. Since he was already there, he pounded on the door and listened closely in case she cried for help.
Instead,