The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood Book 3) by Nikki Sloane (top e book reader .TXT) 📗

His statement seared deep inside, filling up the space around the kiss he’d given me last night, and as soon as it did, I had to make even more room because he tugged me toward him and lowered his lips to mine. His mouth stifled the gasp I made, which shifted into a content sigh, because this kiss?

It was blistering.

Everything else ignited and burned away in the fire of it.

“Clay’s house,” he said as he came up for air. “Eight-thirty. We can talk to him then.”

It was more of a request than a question, but that was fine with me. I’d fallen so deeply under his spell, I didn’t care that I was at work or what I looked like. All I wanted was his kiss. “Okay.”

His tongue slid into my mouth, caressing mine, and pleasure rushed between my legs. For a brief moment, I was angry with how he’d been kept from me, but his hand was on my waist, and he tilted the angle of our kiss, increasing the intensity of it, and all was forgotten.

“Dr. Eckhart?” a female voice called from behind the door.

It was like a needle dragging across a record and instantly his lips were gone, severing our kiss. He stepped away, pulled open the door, and cast a glance back at me. “See you tonight, Lilith.”

My face was warm and my lips still tingling as I watched him go, and I didn’t move until the hallway drained of people. But Cassidy was there, lying in wait for me, and one quick look told her something had gone down while Travis and I had been alone.

Her tone was hushed but playful. “What was that about?” Her mouth curled into a smile. “I swear, that’s got to be some kind of record.”

“What?” We trailed behind the rest of the team, and it was highly unlikely they could hear us over the rattling wheels of the cart.

“You always get hit on and that guy got you alone in, like, ten seconds.” She shook her head in amused disbelief. “Not that I blame you. He’s a hot and a doctor.”

“And we all know how much you like those,” I teased, then sobered. “I know him. His name’s Travis and . . . he’s the other guy I’m sleeping with.”

“Oh, wow.” She pulled to a stop just inside the doors, while the rest of the group continued down the walkway to the truck. “Wait. Sleeping with? You did it more than once?”

My gaze followed Travis as he supervised the cage being loaded and shook hands with the clinic staff. I took in a shallow breath. “Only one time,” I said, “when Clay wasn’t watching us.”

Her head swiveled to me and her jaw dropped, but she didn’t produce a sound. My admission hung awkwardly until she closed her mouth with an audible snap.

“You weren’t fucking kidding,” she gave me wide-eyed look, “when you said it was complicated.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

And I was beginning to think what I had with Clay and Travis was exactly the right kind of complicated.

At eight-fifteen, I went down the stone pathway in front of my house and out the gate, heading toward Clay’s with a new pair of red strappy sandals on and a head full of worry. Travis had said to meet him at eight thirty, but I planned to use the time before to play with Noir while I rehearsed what I was going to say.

But when I unlocked the front door and pushed it open, the alarm didn’t chirp as it normally did. Oh, God. With what had happened with Travis yesterday, had I forgotten to set the security system before leaving?

No, wait—I had. I remembered doing it, plus Clay had his app on his phone. If I’d forgotten, he would have eventually noticed and armed it himself. I only made it a few steps through the entryway before seeing the light on in the kitchen.

Awareness prickled through me. Someone was in the house.

“Hello?” I called.

“I’m in here,” Clay answered back.

What the hell?

He was in the kitchen, wearing jeans and a fitted polo shirt, reminding me of the preppy guys I used to gravitate toward years ago in high school. But in contrast to his look, he was stooped down with a drill in one hand and appeared to be working on a sliding drawer inside one of his cabinets. When I entered, he set down the drill on top of the newly installed counter with a thud, rose, and turned to face me.

His expression was guarded and unreadable.

It was stunning to see him when it was the middle of the week, and he hadn’t mentioned yesterday he was coming back. My breath caught seeing him. Not just because he looked so good, but at the realization it meant we could talk truly face to face.

My throat was tight with anxiety. “What are you doing home?”

He gazed at me for a long moment and stood absolutely still, making awareness tingle in me once more.

Finally, he spoke. “I told my team I had an emergency and needed a couple days.”

Oh. No.

He knew.

SEVENTEEN

Guilt drove my gaze to the floor, and I stared intently at the drill Clay had abandoned there.

“A drawer’s not that urgent,” I attempted to joke, but my voice lost power as I went. “It probably could have waited.”

“Lilith.”

He said it in the same tone he used when he told me to look at him. I dragged my gaze up, dreading the hurt or anger I deserved to find in him, but it wasn’t there. His face remained an emotionless mask.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. Remorse was a thick lump in my throat, making it hard to swallow. “When did Travis tell you?”

He flinched at hearing Travis’s name come out of my mouth. “He didn’t.”

It was like it was suddenly too difficult to look at me and he turned slightly, blinking against the sensation.

“Then—” I started, confused.

“I saw you two on the cameras.”

I’d completely forgotten about them, and—oh,