Page 105 of The Outpost (Jamison Valley 4)
“Henry, if you had another big case, why did you insist on going on my press tour? I would have been fine with another agent.”
“I wanted to go with you.” He took the keys from my hand and unlocked my door. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
I followed him inside my apartment, still feeling guilty. “I’m so sorry. I should have stayed in Prescott longer.” At least there, I wouldn’t have kept FBI agents from solving other crimes.
“No, it was time for you to get out of there. I’m really glad you’re back.” He stepped into my space and looked down at me with soft eyes. His chest was just inches away from mine and I didn’t breathe for fear they would touch.
What was he doing? Was he making a move on me?
My heart started to race but not with excitement or attraction. This was panic. I wasn’t ready for someone new. As it was, I was barely hanging on to the pieces of my shattered heart. I couldn’t fathom any other man taking Beau’s place. Not now. Maybe not ever.
When Henry’s face started to descend toward mine, I unfroze and stepped back, bumping against the small table by my door. “Henry, I . . .”
His entire frame deflated and his eyes dropped to his feet. “It’s okay.”
Fuck. I had been so consumed with my own emotions I hadn’t been paying attention to Henry’s. How had I missed this? “I am so, so sorry.”
He looked up and gave me a sad smile. “It’s my fault. You seemed more like your old self today. Going out for drinks with a friend. Planning a trip back to Montana. I thought maybe you were moving on.”
I shook my head but didn’t speak. There wasn’t anything to say.
“Can we forget this happened?” he asked.
“Okay.”
“I’ll get that pizza.” He turned and opened the door. “Do you want me to pick you up more wine?”
“No, thank you. I have some.”
His smile was forced. “Be back soon. Lock this behind me.”
I nodded and closed the door, sagging against its surface as I turned the l
ock.
When my heart rate returned to noncritical levels, I kicked off my white shoes and let the cool marble tile soothe my aching soles.
Damn it. No matter how much we both pretended like that moment hadn’t happened, things between Henry and me were bound to get awkward. Maybe he’d have his other agents take over Sabrina duty for a while, and after some space, we’d get back to our easy friendship.
I hoped so. While Henry would never be a love interest, I still wanted him as a friend.
Forcing my feet to move, I walked further into my apartment. My cleaning crew had been in today and there was a light citrus scent in the air. Though I was still considering downsizing, I did love this space.
The walls were a soft gray, just a shade lighter than the white trim. Other than the tiled entryway, the rest of the apartment had espresso hardwood floors. I had decorated with light and muted tones to offset the dark walnut doors and cabinets.
The hall that extended from the entryway split the place in half. On the right were my office and a wide, sunken living room. On the left were my master suite and the kitchen. The U-shaped kitchen was at the back of the apartment, separated from the living room by a tall island and barstools.
Tossing my purse onto a couch, I yawned and turned to the kitchen.
My heart jumped into my throat and I gasped. A nightmare stood across from me.
Anton.
He was leaning against the stove on the other side of the island, a hand tucked casually in a pocket. He stood in just the right spot, hidden by the hallway that led to my bedroom, so that the only way to see him was by being completely inside the apartment. Since I had been looking out the floor-to-ceiling living-room windows when I’d walked in, I’d been oblivious to his presence.
“Hello, Sabrina.” His voice sent chills down my spine.
I took one step toward the door but stopped when he snapped straight and held out a gun. “Ah, ah, ah. Don’t go running away from me again. We’ve got some things to talk about, kitten.”
