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“What did you see in there?” Carlos asked.

“It was a fairly small meeting room.  A man was on a ladder, installing something in the ceiling panel.  I’m guessing a hidden camera.  A woman, most likely Penny, was holding the ladder.  The back of one of the chairs was off and on the table.  No idea what for.  And that’s about it.”

“Let me discuss this with Winifred and see if we should stay.”

“I don’t think I can keep this pulling and pushing up anymore, Grey.  I’m getting tired.  And if I stop pushing—”

“Let’s go,” he said.

The walk to the car exhausted me.  I was yawning almost nonstop.  The drive to our building wasn’t much better.  Carlos and Grey remained quiet.

Back at the apartment building, Carlos and I parted ways with Grey.  Grey had agreed that I didn’t need to be present when he told the others about the building and what I’d seen.

With relief, I followed Carlos to our apartment.

“Are you hungry?” Carlos asked as he opened the door.

“No.  Just tired.”

I kicked off my shoes by the door, then removed my jacket and scarf and tossed them on the couch on my way to the bedroom.  It didn’t surprise me that Carlos followed.  I fell onto the mattress and curled on my side.  Carlos closed the blinds and joined me, pulling me close.

*    *    *    *

My stomach was making weird noises.  It brought me out of my sleep enough to know I was alone.  Frowning, I sat up.  The clock said it was close to six.  The wonderful tang of spicy food scented the air, and I heard faint noises from the kitchen.  Bounding out of bed, I could only think of food.

I found Carlos in the kitchen.

“That smells so good.”  I walked up behind him and peeked around his broad shoulders.  He was stirring beef, onions, and peppers.  Reaching forward with every intention of stealing a piece of browned beef, I was surprised when he caught my hand.

“You’ll burn yourself.”  He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it in an old-fashioned way that made my pulse dance.  Then, he took a fork from the counter beside him and skewered a piece of meat.  He handed it to me.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Isabelle.”

Spontaneously, I leaned against his back and wrapped my free arm around his waist for a quick hug.  He tensed, and I knew I’d surprised him.  Before he could make a big deal out of the embrace, I went to my stool on the other side of the breakfast bar.

“Have you heard from anyone?”  I popped the bite of meat into my mouth.  It was hot but so good, and I savored it.  Grey had been right about Carlos’ fajitas.  They might just make it into the trinity.  After all the fast food, burgers had lost some of their appeal.

“Nothing noteworthy,” Carlos said, answering my question.  “Everyone is staying in and enjoying some quiet time.”

Another night alone with Carlos.  I wondered if it would be a repeat of last night.

“Sounds good.  Want to try watching a movie again?”  I let the question hang for a moment.  “Or we could skip the pretense and just make out.”

He stopped stirring and glanced over his shoulder.  Shock was plain on his face, but was quickly replaced by a look that warmed the room.

“Okay.  Movie it is,” I said.

“Isabelle.”  His voice was rough and full of warning.

“Carlos,” I mimicked.

He breathed deeply and turned back to the stove.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” he said.  “After we eat?”

“Sure.”

I honestly didn’t care what we did.  After my nap, I was wide awake and ready to do something.

He turned off the stove and brought the pan to the island where our plates and tortillas already waited.  My stomach rumbled in anticipation as I made up two fajitas.  Carlos seemed less enthused about eating, spending more time watching me.  So I made a fajita for him and set it on his plate.  He took the hint.

We ate together in silence.  I didn’t mind it, but I thought him extra quiet.  I wondered if my teasing had hurt his feelings.  I’d told him I didn’t know what I was doing relationship-wise.

As soon as I stuffed the last bite of fajita into my mouth, he reached for my plate.  He still had half a fajita on his.

“You’re done?”  I was surprised he’d gone through all the effort of cooking if he really wasn’t that hungry.  Not that I would complain about it; dinner had been delicious.

“Yes.  I’ve had enough.”  He stood with the plates and brought them to the sink.  He set them on the counter and turned toward me.

“Let’s go for the walk.”

I glanced at the plates behind him.  He hadn’t scraped the plates, rinsed them, or anything.  That wasn’t like him.

“Um.  Okay.”

I went to the couch and grabbed my jacket and scarf.  It was a struggle to loop the scarf the way the woman had shown me, but I finally got it, then put on my shoes.  Carlos waited by the door the entire time.  Though he was an emotional void as usual and didn’t fidget in the slightest, something about him rang with impatience.

“Don’t you need a jacket or a sweater or something?”

“No.”  He opened the door and gestured me out.

“Are you impatient?” I asked, eyeing him as I walked out the door.

“Yes, Isabelle.  Very.”

He closed the door.

“Are you going to tell me why?”

He held out his hand.  I took it, and we started down the hall.  I had to hustle to keep up with his long strides.

“I’m hoping we can go for a run.”

“Aren’t we already?”

He slowed down as we jogged down the stairs.  Though I kept glancing at him, I couldn’t read anything from him.

“Where are we going to run?”

“Outside.”

I laughed at him, and the sound of it echoed in the garage.  He pulled me toward the exit door, barely nodding to the guard there.  As soon as we were outside, he stopped and turned to me.

His fingers glided over my cheeks, and he leaned in close to my ear.

“Run, Isabelle.”

I jerked back at his roughened voice.

“Whoa!  Wait.  Is this like the last time?  You can’t...”  I glanced around.  There were still people everywhere.  The guard watched us through the security window.  “People will see.”

“I won’t change.”

His shaking, fisted hands didn’t convince me.

“And what are you going to do when you catch me?”

His gaze heated.

“Make out.”

My stomach thought it was a great plan and started doing aerobatic maneuvers.  Anticipation coursed through me.

“I want a head start,” I said.

“I’ll count to ten.”

“Fifty.”

“Twenty-five, starting now.  One.  Two...”

I pivoted and sprinted away from him, pushing people aside.  My stupid grin helped keep everyone’s alarm down.  I pressed myself to run fast, then faster, using the emotions I accidently siphoned from those around me.  Behind me, the sound of Carlos’ counting faded.

What was I doing?  This was crazy.  Crazy exciting!

I gasped for air but didn’t slow.  My sneakers hit the pavement with resounding thumps.  I turned a corner then dashed across the street, weaving between still moving cars.  One almost hit me.  I didn’t slow.

Was he still counting?  Had it been twenty-five seconds?  I bolted around another corner, putting more distance between us, and spotted a little café ahead.  I briefly considered ducking into it, but that thought came to a screeching halt when I was grabbed from behind and lifted into the air.

I squealed and laughed.

“That wasn’t the reaction I expected,” a strange voice said a moment before the man spun me around and hit me in the face.

Pain exploded.  I widened my stance to keep from falling as my ears rang.  My vision was grey and blurry, messing with my equilibrium more.  I tried to shake the feeling free and pull, but pulling made my stomach heave.  I gagged.

The guy swore and grabbed my arm, spinning me away from him.  My pulse throbbed in my upper lip and cheek.