Dolby(26)
Author: Maryann Jordan
“Your protectiveness is already showing,” Leo said.
Dolby noticed the look of approval on Leo’s face. He accepted the comment as a compliment, knowing it was meant as such, considering Leo’s protective instincts toward Natalie.
They checked the perimeter, satisfied at each stop that the system they’d designed, once put in place, would be more than what the client required.
“I’ll be glad to get finished tomorrow and home on Friday,” Leo said. He glanced toward Dolby and added, “Bet you can say the same.”
Nodding, he didn’t have time to reply before Adam piped up. “Hell, I don’t have to have a woman to be glad to get home. I won’t mind hitting the bar for a little recreation this weekend.” As a fellow former Ranger, he and Adam had often trolled the bars in his younger years. He knew he'd probably accompany Adam if he hadn’t met Marcia. Now, all that filled his mind was being back in California in two days. He’d even decided to drive to her place on Friday night instead of waiting until Saturday.
Pulling out his phone as they parked at the guesthouse, he fired off a text. I’ll call you tomorrow when we get in. Can’t wait to see you the day after. Patience was never my virtue.
He waited a moment to see if she’d reply, adolescent excitement coursing through him as the text bubbles appeared. She only answered with an emoji, but it was a smiley face with hearts for eyes, and he grinned. He knew that for her, the reply was a resounding agreement.
He pocketed his phone, a smile firmly on his face.
12
Marcia walked through the living space of Angela’s house, flipping off lights and double-checking the doors. Angela was in LA to meet with her attorney, and Marcia let her mind drift to what her friend had told her. Marcia had never warmed to Roger, considering him to be a pompous ass, but had kept that tidbit to herself. When she and Angela first met, there was no reason for Roger to know she was an author. When her books began to hit charts, Angela had guarded Marcia’s privacy, even from her husband. He’d often ignored her, obviously not impressed with Angela’s introverted friend, which was fine with her.
Anglea must have had a productive day since she sent another text that only stated, He’s going down! Marcia had grinned, assuming that Angela’s attorney was ready to confidently handle her impending divorce.
Marcia’s bare feet padded softly over the entry foyer's marble tile floors, the den's polished wooden floors, and the plush carpet of the upstairs hall leading into her guest bedroom. While her rental house was lovely, Angela’s house was massive, elegant, and filled with high-end, expensive decor showcasing Roger’s decorating influence of ostentatious must be better. Ornamental vases sat on antique tables. Framed works of art lined the walls. Heavy silver platters decorated the long dining room table with seating for twenty.
The owner’s bedroom was over the top as well, but the guest bedroom that Angela had placed her in was warm and inviting, simple in its decor, and perfect. Angela had told her that Roger hated the room, but when Angela’s mother came to live with them for a while, she’d wanted a bedroom that reflected her childhood and not Roger’s aesthetic.
Angela had even confessed that she often slept in the room. With Marcia’s silent, raised-brow questioning expression, Angela had shrugged, saying that she preferred it when Roger was out of town, or when he was getting in late and she didn’t want him to wake her, or when she was pissed at him, which was more and more frequent.
Marcia loved it. A four-poster queen-sized bed with a white chenille bedspread. White lace curtains on the windows and a braided rug in hues of blue underneath her bare toes.
After her bath, she’d dressed for bed in warmer clothes than she normally would wear at her house. She’d discovered last night that Angela’s house was colder than she was used to. Since Angela was coming back tomorrow, she didn’t want to adjust the thermostat.
Long flannel pajama bottoms decorated in penguins, a camisole, and a soft, worn, long-sleeved T-shirt completed her sleep ensemble. Her toes were cold when she climbed into bed, so she hopped out and slid on a pair of thick, fuzzy yellow socks. Now more comfortable, she settled under the covers to read.
But as soon as she opened her e-reader to the romance she was reading, the only image that filled her mind was of Jonathan. She’d certainly written stories where the hero and heroine fell in love quickly—insta-love was the phrase the romance community used. Chuckling, she’d discovered some readers hated insta-love stories, calling them unrealistic. Of course, I do write fiction! But she’d had so many other readers email their real-life insta-love stories. Those were some of her favorite emails, filled with funny meetings, mishaps on first dates, and the knowledge that two people could meet, click, and fall for each other in a way that let love grow quickly.
Her e-reader landed on her lap as she leaned back against the pillows, remembering their meeting in the lighthouse. At first, the massive man covered from head to toe in mud with blood dripping down his forehead had terrified her.
And the first thing he did was to lift his hands and offer a calming assurance. “Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He’d even started to leave to make her more comfortable. Sighing with pleasure, she was glad she’d gone against every instinct and insisted that he stay.
Her phone buzzed, and she grabbed it off the nightstand. Seeing a text from Jonathan, she grinned.
I know I said I’d call you tomorrow, but I hadn’t said good night yet. So good night.
Laughing, she texted in return. Good night. Can’t wait to see you again. No more bubbles came into sight, so she placed her phone back on the nightstand. It was soon followed by her e-reader, knowing that with her mind filled with Jonathan, no fictional character would hold her imagination tonight.
Turning off the lamp, she scooted down under the covers, a smile on her face knowing Angela was getting her life on track and Marcia could soon go back to her house. And most wonderful of all would be the day when she’d see Jonathan again.
Marcia jolted awake. Rolling over, she touched her phone to see the time—2:00 a.m.
Uncertain why she’d woken so suddenly, she barely breathed, listening. It was a habit borne from long ago. She waited, but nothing met her ears other than silence. Letting out her held breath, she lightly scoffed. This was one of the reasons she hated to sleep somewhere other than her house… getting used to the usual creaks and noises each house emitted. When she’d moved into the rental, getting used to the new environment had taken her a while. The daytime was less concerning when light flooded each room, and no dark corners existed where someone could lurk.