Jake quenched his thirst with a glass of ice water while Sarah searched her purse for a bottle of Tylenol to appease a headache. Both of them battled fits of restlessness and couldn't wind down for sleep, and with the video conference over, they drifted into the kitchen alone.
After swallowing two pills, Sarah leaned against the counter, closed her eyes, and inhaled through her nose. Jake knew her like the rippled sand on the ocean floor. She was trying to slow things down and calm her nerves. Moments like these were what he loved about her: her vulnerability, because despite her mental toughness, she was still a woman with natural weaknesses. He enjoyed the fact sometimes he could be a man and let her lean on him for strength, and he guessed that made her his weakness.
"You need to put some ice on that bump," Jake said, brushing her hair aside.
Sarah opened her eyes and flinched, but didn't resist.
Her hair was always getting in the way, but it was a good problem to have. He felt the outer edges of the spot on her forehead with his fingertip. It was puffy and darkened. He raised the glass, pressed it to her skin, and she shuttered from the cold, but held still while he attended to her.
"I'm sorry about the limo down-the-hill thing," Jake said.
"Hey, it worked. How far do you think we would've gone in that beat-up car?"
"We probably wouldn't be talking right now."
"You did what you had to." She let a bashful grin slip free.
Jake lifted the glass, judging that the bump had tightened from the cold compression, and in doing so, he moved closer. He wanted a good look at the wound. Only a breath away, a warmth ran through his body like thermal vents heating the coldest depths of the sea.
A water droplet trickled down Sarah's temple.
Jake set the glass on the counter and wiped it away. When his hand touched her skin, their eyes met—not sensuous—but soft and caring. She blinked. Her sapphire irises glistened with lighter shades of blue, almost silver. The little vertical creases in her lips beckoned. Jake caught himself holding his breath.
He was not a choirboy by any stretch and had plenty of failed relationships in the past, but Sarah Lawson was different. He sensed it the moment he first bumped into her at the Sea Lab cafeteria. She was not a woman to sleep around, and he respected her for it.
Jake pushed those thoughts aside as the desire to do what came naturally burned within him, but something pulled at the back of his mind. Was he good enough for her? Did she deserve more in a man? Someone who didn't falter when temptation loomed. Also, a relationship with a co-worker could cloud things, and he knew well, a nasty break-up could open a rift a mile wide, as it had in their case. Did they need to risk it again?
She closed her eyes.
Jake paused, their lips almost touching.
She looked at him and seemed to wonder why he was hesitating. Was he crazy? Insane maybe? She stood there, expectant. And what was he thinking? Why was he thinking at all when he should act on instinct? Forget the rules. He swallowed the lump in his throat and pressed his lips to hers.
"Whoa." Behind them, Tony held an empty beer bottle and an expression of pure alarm. "Sorry, thought about downing the last cold one. Awkward. Didn't realize you two were in here."
Jake wanted to throw the water in his face. That would be cold enough for him.
"I'll come back later," Tony said.
"No." Sarah's face flushed red. "I was about to turn in for the night, anyway. Get whatever you need." Her eyes hovered on Jake for a fleeting moment, then she scooted by Tony and left the kitchen.
"Did that just happen?" Jake muttered to himself and combed a hand through his hair. He hesitated and then said to Tony, "Let's take a walk. I need to breathe." He shot a stiff look at his friend and moved toward the door.
"We're stepping out," Tony said to Sarah.
"That's fine." She was somewhere out of sight. "Don't forget your key card."
"Got it." Jake took to the hallway and closed the door behind them.
"I didn't mean to interrupt you guys." Tony led the way onto the elevator. "Where are we going, anyway?"
"Ground floor. They have a bar here, don't they?"
"They do. Maybe we'll run into Kevin? Earlier, Cat said he was dropping by for some quiet time at the bar."
"You can stop grinning from ear to ear." Jake smirked as the elevator moved. "I want one drink, something to take off the edge."
"That's good. It's great to see the old Jake Soloman again. Thought you were about to turn soft on me."
"Me? Soft? No. Not by a long shot, but I don't want to drink in front of Sarah. Speaking of her, I found something in her laptop case."
"Like what?"
"A note... the note I wrote her shortly after we broke up."
"Okay."
Jake came out with it. "She was reading it that morning at the Paradise Island Resort."
"And?"
The elevator doors opened. "I think somewhere deep down she still loves me."
"That's a good thing, right?"
"Yes, but..."
"But what?"
"It's nothing. Just complicated."
Tony pointed to the lobby. "You're complicated."
Jake shook his head. Tony seemed to always know where a hotel kept the alcohol. He led the way to the lounge, where they pulled up to the bar and ordered drinks. Jake sipped on a Bacardi rum concoction, but found it didn't satisfy his thirst. Tony had another Heineken. They talked in depth about everything that had unfolded in the last few weeks and what kind of relationship he should have with Sarah.
Jake took in his surroundings the more they talked. The countertop shined with a glossy finish over a rich chestnut stain. The lights were dim, reflected by a mirror behind the bar, and a couple chatted in hushed tones at a table several feet away, leaning in close, laughing occasionally as a jazzy tune played over speakers somewhere in the background. Only the four of them, plus the bartender, were present. The squat man—wearing a black vest with white sleeves rolled up to his elbows—had an overgrown mustache that crept over his upper lip. He stood a step away, wiping a glass with a rag. As the rag slipped in and out of the tumbler, it occurred to Jake that they hadn't run into Kevin. He was supposed to be here, which was odd.
"What if it doesn't work out between us?" Jake said. "What if she still thinks I slept with Rachel?"
"You're kidding, right?" Tony shook his head and chugged the rest of his beer. "Have you been paying attention? Seriously, I doubt she still thinks that. You need to stop worrying about the pitfalls and learn when to go for it. Sarah's a grown woman, and from what I saw in the kitchen a few minutes ago, she's warmed up to you rather nicely. And if she wants you, then by all means, let it happen."
He was right, but still... Jake shook his head.
Tony checked his watch and yawned. "Look at that. It's a quarter to three."
"It is getting late." Jake pushed up from the bar, a half-filled glass still resting on the counter.
They started for the elevator, and once on the fourth floor, Tony pulled his key card out and was a step ahead.
Jake put a hand on his shoulder. "I closed the door on our way out."
It wasn't noticeable from down the hall, but as they drew near, it was easy to see the door was ajar. Jake held a finger to his lips and nudged it open, with Tony behind him as they entered the suite. They crept past the kitchen and eased into the living room.
Jake halted, which caused Tony to bump into him. A pair of unexpected visitors sat on the sofa, with Sarah scrunched between them, holding silenced handguns shoved into her ribs. Jake met her terrified eyes, eyes that made his world feel like it was reeling out of control. Taking a slow, calculated step forward, he paused, or rather froze, unable to move any further, and surveyed the intruders.
Another unexpected guest leaned against the door frame leading into the back bedroom.
Kevin Green. Cast on his wrist and all.
Jake looked at him and winced.
Kevin folded his arms and narrowed his brows, beholding them for a few harsh seconds, and then his countenance deepened, revealing the slightest hint of something Jake found difficult to comprehend... regret.
"When did you get here?" Jake's jaw sagged as he gazed at Kevin, the other guests giving him little regard. "I don't understand?"
"I do," Tony said.
Kevin walked over, sat in a chair near the window, and crossed his legs. "It's not personal." He lowered his eyes and then raised them. "My sister has MS, remember? She needs a cure and they have the serum that can save her. I'm sorry."
The chauffeur from Zanderthal's compound rose to his feet. Up close in the flesh, he appeared larger than before as he moved toward Jake, keeping his gun aimed at Sarah.
"Allow me to introduce myself," he sneered. "my name is Takeshi Ishikawa and I work for Roland Zanderthal. Now, hand over files you stole from Ocean Blue."