Page 48 of Deadly Charade

“Oh, did I fail to mention that Agent Kaup will be trailing me, taking the yoga mat right behind me and watching my back the entire day?”

He took a few steps back, his shoulder tingling from her touch. “I can live with that. Seems like you’ve thought this through. I’ll spend the day working. Just because I’m out of the office doesn’t mean the emails stop.”

She rolled her eyes. “Your favorite. Checking emails.” Kira strode out of the room with Agent Kaup, and Bryce prayed she’d be safe.

The day flew by with calls and emails. Every so often, he distracted himself with memories of taking Kira to see his father. She’d never said a word of judgment, just jumped in to help, but he couldn’t help wondering what she really thought. And then he’d force himself to shove those thoughts aside and focus. Then find himself thinking about it again.

“Ugh.” He rubbed a hand over his chin. He’d just talk to her when she got home so he could get the whole thing off his mind.

Kira returned in the evening after a late lunch with Sophia followed by shopping. She’d texted and checked in with him to let him know she was fine, but they hadn’t really had a chance to reconnect all day. Bryce fended for himself for dinner. A grilled cheese sandwich. Nothing as spectacular as Kira’s meals.

He sat at the dining room table with his laptop. Kira joined him, wearing a new outfit, and he blinked.

She raised a brow at him. “What?”

“Nothing. Nice outfit. Not your usual style.” The zebra-print pants and black top fit Katrina’s character to a T. He didn’t hate it, but it wasn’t Kira.

“I have to look the part, and we shopped for hours. It’s exhausting being rich.”

“Did you find out any useful information?”

She frowned. “Not much. She talked a lot, but it was mostly superficial. She doesn’t like to talk about her family at all and flinched when I asked her if she had any kids. She said no, but something tells me she wasn’t a hundred percent honest.”

Interesting. “Did she say anything about the secret auction?”

Kira slid into the chair next to his. “She said you’d figure it out, because she assumes you’ve been to these kinds of events before. I really think the six-digit number on the back is a code to a locked room.”

Despite unraveling their current mystery of the invitation, his mind refused to let go of one thing. What did Kira think of him, now that she saw where he’d come from? They’d never had a chance to debrief from their encounter with his father. Had her opinion of him changed overnight?

And why did what she thought of him matter so much?

“Bryce?”

“Oh, sorry. I’m listening, but I have something I wanted to get off my chest.”

“Okay. Go for it.”

“I should have said this earlier but never had the chance.”

“You’re killing me. What?”

“I’m really sorry you had to see my father in such bad shape. Thank you for calling around to get him some help. Had I known he’d shut himself off from society, I would have intervened sooner.”

“You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you?”

He blinked. “Um—”

She placed a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll get him someone permanent to check on him. It’s hard. You aren’t close geographically or relationally.”

When did he become a “we”? They’d gone from strangers to partners . . . or more? The marriage was fake, but were the underlying feelings?

Kira never moved her hand. “I’m just sorry you grew up in a neglectful environment. I was an orphan but wonder if that’s better than being stuck at home with a father that doesn’t care. Not that it’s a competition. We each had challenging upbringings. But you are a survivor, just like me.”

Their shared connection sparked to life again. She understood him and didn’t judge him. He could put the worry out of his head and move on. “It made me grow up fast, that’s for sure. After my mom left, he fell into a pit of depression that he never could escape.” A grandfather clock softly chimed seven o’clock. But time seemed to stand still under Kira’s touch. He cleared his throat. “Well, like you said, we both had challenging childhoods.” And he desperately wanted to know more about hers.

Without realizing it, he swept a wayward auburn tendril away from her eyes. He snapped his hand back, regretting the intimate gesture. “I’m so glad you can relate. I have a hard time talking about it, but my past definitely shaped my desire for justice.” He’d never wind up like his old man. He’d be someone.

Kira leaned closer, her hand still on his arm. “We make pretty good partners. Which is refreshing since I’m used to working alone. I could get used to this.”