The Hitman Next Door Page 2

  Yeah, he could definitely be in an aftershave commercial. She’d even once suggested it to him and he’d looked at her like she’d suggested he put on a dress and high heels, and take a walk downtown.

  Beneath the straight, black slashes of his brows, his dark eyes narrowed, scanning her in much the same way as a scientist in a movie scans an alien life form.

  A little quiver went through her the way it always did when he looked at her intently, and just like she always did, she ignored it.

  “You’re late,” Rhys said. “And you look tired.”

  “Happy Birthday to you too,” Vivi muttered, dropping her purse where she stood. “I’m sorry. I had to work. Have you been here long?”

  Rhys didn’t answer directly. “I sent you some texts.”

  Crap. She’d been too busy to check her phone. “Sorry,” she repeated. “Today was a nightmare.”

  “I called, too.”

  Double crap. She knew he didn’t like it when she didn’t answer him, because he tended to be kind of protective. Kind of bordering on extreme.

  “Sorry,” she said again, uselessly. “I had a ton of research to do and you know, I couldn’t just leave. I have to put the hours in.”

  His brows lowered.

  Rhys never let any of his feelings show, but over the years she’d gotten very good at reading him and that lowered brow was the equivalent of a full-on screaming fit.

  She sighed, shoved away her weariness, crossed over to where he stood, and put her arms around him. He stiffened as per usual whenever she touched him, since he had a personal space of approximately a mile and hated anyone getting into it. He tolerated her though, and she appreciated that, because she was a hugger and if she could respect the fact he never talked about himself, he could respect the fact that she liked to hug him now and then.

  He never hugged her back, though, and he didn’t now, the solid warmth of his body completely at odds with the aura of ice he surrounded himself with. She sighed, letting the familiarity of him settle her, the scent of him earthy and warm like a pine forest on a hot summer day. It was a hug of apology to him, but sometimes, when she was feeling tired and at the end of her rope, the hugs she gave him were also for her. The strength in his tall, broad form reassuring her on a basic level that she didn’t question.

  She never let it go on too long, because touching him for any length of time tended to make her conscious of him in a way that made her uncomfortable. That was all about her being female and him being very definitely male.

  Yeah, she didn’t like to think too closely about that. They were friends and that’s the way she liked to keep it.

  After a moment, she released him and stood back, looking up at him. “Thank you. And again, I’m really sorry.”

  His brow didn’t get any lower, so that was something. “You shouldn’t be apologizing to me,” he said, his voice flat with its customary expressionless tone. “It’s your birthday.”

  Vivi gave him a mock stern look. “I wasn’t the one having a tantrum because you wouldn’t answer my texts.”

  “I was not having a tantrum.”

  “Don’t lie to me, I saw that minute frown.”

  His mouth lost its tight look, which was the equivalent of a belly laugh. “Go and open your present. I got you a few bottles of that beer you liked, too, the IPA.”

  She gave a little moan. “Oh, it’s like you know me. Because that’s exactly what I need. A beer.”

  Rhys pushed himself away from the door frame, heading over to the kitchen area while she moved back to the table, grinning down at the things on top of it.

  The cake was her favorite - chocolate mud cake with extra chocolate frosting - and the roses smelled divine. Neil had gotten her some pale orchids on their first date and she found she didn’t much like them. They didn’t smell the way roses did and she’d always appreciated nice smells.

  She tweaked the ribbon that tied the balloon to the chair, making the balloon bob up and down. “A balloon? Seriously?”

  Rhys came back over, carrying two bottles of her favorite pale ale, handing one to her. “Of course seriously. Everyone should have balloons on their birthday.”

  She grinned at him, but he didn’t grin back. That was usual. That was Rhys. He was a plank of wood most times, but she could hear the dry tone in his deep, cold voice. He had a sense of humor, you only had to look for it.

  In fact, you had to look for everything when it came to Rhys, but just because he didn’t show it, didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

  “Well, I appreciate it.” She took the bottle, found he’d already twisted the top off of it, and took a sip. It was delicious. “Balloons are awesome.”

  He gave a grave nod as if confirming this was, indeed, the case, then gestured with his bottle to the small, square, beautifully wrapped package that sat next to the cake. “Open your present.”

  The exhaustion of the long day began to fall away, the pleasure of being at home with Rhys setting in. Apart from his almost fanatical attention to her safety, he was such undemanding company. She was very much a person who liked to talk out her problems and he was a guy who sat there and listened. He let her talk, sometimes asking questions when she’d finished speaking, or giving his opinion when she asked for it.

  He never interrupted her and took everything she said - mundane or otherwise - completely seriously.

  Really, along with the fact that he was incredibly hot, it was a pity he wasn’t attracted to her because he would have made the perfect boyfriend.

  Not that she was interested in him that way. She’d trained herself out of that early on, after she’d first gotten to know him at high school. He’d been hot even then and she’d developed a crush on him, which she’d then duly buried under layers of aggressive friendship. She hadn’t had time for boyfriends, not with law school in her sights.

  And now? Well, she wanted that partnership and what with working every hour God sent, she didn’t need the complication that would come with getting frisky with her best friend.

  Besides, if it was male company she wanted in particular, that’s what she was dating Neil for.

  Vivi reached for the present and examined it. “You could hire yourself out,” she murmured, touching the silver ribbon gently and admiring the perfect creases in the paper. “Ever thought of present wrapping as an alternative to bounty hunting?”

  “Fugitive recovery,” he corrected absently. “And no. I doubt it would pay as well.”

  “Depends on how much you charge.” She tugged at the ribbon and the bow came undone. “Possibly it wouldn’t be as exciting as catching dangerous criminals.” Sometimes she wished he’d talk more about what he did for a living, because she was curious. But he didn’t and because a lawyer and a bounty hunter being friends was…problematic, she didn’t push.

  “Catching dangerous criminals isn’t all that exciting.” Rhys sipped his own beer, his gaze on her hands as she pulled apart the paper. “Most criminals aren’t that dangerous.”

  Perhaps not. Then again, she often got the feeling that it was Rhys who was the dangerous one, not the criminals. Which was a strange thing to think about her best friend. He’d been in the army while she’d been studying at college, so that might explain the look he got in his eyes sometimes. A distinct, metallic gleam as if he was the kind of guy who shot first and asked questions later. But again, even though he’d stayed in touch with her via email while he’d been deployed, the army was yet another thing he didn’t talk about.

  The man was an enigma wrapped inside a mystery, wrapped inside whatever else that stupid quote was about.

  Vivi spread open the paper to reveal a small black box. “Nice,” she said. “A box. I’ve always wanted a box.”

  Rhys gave her a narrow glance, which told her he was ever so slightly impatient.

  She grinned. “You’re very thoughtful, Rhys. I like it.”

  “There’s something inside the box, Vivi.”

  “Oh really? There is?” She
gave him a wide-eyed look purely to annoy him, then with exaggerated care, took the lid off the box.

  Nestled on a piece of black velvet was a necklace spelling out ‘Vivi’ in glittering stones, a delicate chain fastened to the ‘V’ and ‘i’.

  She blinked, her teasing mood abruptly vanishing.

  It was simple and beautiful and so very thoughtful. So very Rhys.

  She loved it.

  “Do you like it?”

  Her chest felt a little tight. He always got her something for her birthday - even when he’d been on deployment while she’d been in college there had only been one year that he’d forgotten. The presents were always small things like a book, or a knickknack, or her favorite chocolate.

  But he’d never bought her anything like this.

  She didn’t know what to say.

  “I got it made specially.” He put his beer down and moved around the table to her. “And it’s just for you. Not anyone else. That’s why it says ‘Vivi’, not Vivienne.”

  Her eyes prickled, which was ridiculous because there was no reason for her to cry and she didn’t even know why she felt like crying anyway. God, she must be even more tired than she thought.

  She swallowed. “It’s beautiful, Rhys.”

  “You’re always doing stuff for other people.” He reached out and took the necklace out of the box. “So I thought you might like something that’s only yours.”

  She nodded, slightly weirded out by her own emotional response, since it wasn’t as if she’d never gotten a birthday present before. Her parents had always gotten her thoughtful gifts and usually it involved giving a donation to her favorite charity or sponsoring a child on her behalf, because that’s what she always told them she wanted.

  But Rhys only ever got her gifts that were for her.

  “Let me put it on.” He gestured for her to turn around.

  Wordlessly she did, grateful for the chance to get herself the hell together and not to be a stupid, over-emotional freak.

  Definitely she was way over-tired. And probably hormonal too. That was the only explanation.

  There was warmth at her back as Rhys came close, that warm earth and pine scent surrounding her. Then his arms were on either side of her as he laid the necklace against her throat, the metal cool on her skin. As his fingers did up the clasp, they brushed the back of her neck, making an electric shiver shoot down her spine.

  Her breath caught, the sound almost audible, and she had to stare hard at exposed brick of the wall to calm herself the hell down. There was a painting on it by a local artist that she’d gotten cheap at a market a year or so earlier, of a blue sky and clouds. She’d liked it immediately for the feeling of freedom looking at the painting gave her, at the sense of peace it radiated.

  But no matter how hard she stared at the painting, it wasn’t peace she felt now.

  “There,” he said. “All done.” Then, very, very gently, his fingertips brushed the back of her neck again.

  Another shiver chased over her skin.

  Vivi stared at the painting and shoved the feeling away.

  Clearly she was overtired if she was letting Rhys’s touch affect her like this, which meant she had to get a handle on herself. Because the very last thing she needed right now was an inappropriate response to her best friend’s touch, and it wasn’t happening.

  It just wasn’t.

  2

  He shouldn’t have touched her, he really shouldn’t have. The first time had been an accident, but the second? No, he couldn’t tell himself that hadn’t been an accident, not at all.

  But then that was always the risk when getting close to Vivi and he’d thought he had himself so well trained by now that he could deal with it.

  Hell, he’d dealt with her hugging him before, that had been no problem. He hadn’t even had to grit his teeth. Then again, Vivi hugging him was a normal occurrence and one he’d gotten used to. Putting a necklace on her wasn’t.

  Neither was looking down at the pale, vulnerable skin at the back of her neck. Or noticing the soft wisps of chestnut hair that had escaped from the bun she usually put her hair up into whenever she went to work. Or smelling her familiar perfume, something sweet and delicious that reminded him of sugar cookies.

  And he couldn’t have said why he noticed those things now, but he did.

  Possibly it was because he’d been starting to get worried about her when she hadn’t answered his texts or his calls. Or maybe it was about the flash of anger that had gone through him when she’d finally turned up, over three hours late, right at the point he’d decided to go out looking for her. Or maybe it was only because she’d looked so tired and he didn’t like that either.

  They were all reminders of her vulnerability. All reminders of the only thing in the world he had to give her: his protection. It wasn’t much, not in return for everything she’d given him, the years of companionship and warmth and support. But it was pretty much the only thing he was good at so that’s what he gave her.

  Which is why you shouldn’t be touching her, asshole. Friends remember? You wanted normality and friends is normal.

  Rhys dropped his hand and stepped back quickly, grabbing his beer and skirting around the table again. Putting some distance between them.

  Vivi gave him an odd look. Her fingers had crept up to touch the necklace and there was a pink flush to her cheeks. “Uh… I’m going to check this out in the mirror,” she muttered. “Why don’t you cut the cake?”

  There was something strange in the air, a tension that hadn’t been there before and he couldn’t figure out why. Had it been him touching her when he shouldn’t have? Did she feel weird about his gift? Or was she simply tired?

  She worked too fucking hard, that was her problem, and always had been.

  “Are you okay?” Reflexively he ran his gaze over her again. She was usually pretty easy to read - Vivi wore her heart on her sleeve for the most part - but there was a guarded expression on her face now, which was disturbing since she’d never been guarded with him before.

  You really shouldn’t have touched her.

  She looked away, lifting a shoulder. “Yeah, just tired. Be back in a sec’.”

  Rhys took another sip of his beer, watching her as she went off toward the hallway that led to the bathroom, the heels of her plain black pumps tapping on the wooden floor.

  A mistake. Because of course his gaze was inevitably drawn to the shape of her ass in the tight fitting black skirt she wore, with the little kick pleat in the back. The one that only seemed to highlight the long, toned length of her calves.

  Fuck’s sake. What was his problem?

  He turned away, gripping his beer bottle tightly, and strode over to the windows, glancing out over the lights of downtown Austin.

  He’d long ago accepted he wanted Vivi, just as he’d accepted that he wouldn’t ever do anything about it. Her friendship was too important to him to muddy the waters with sex, plus there was the whole fact that she didn’t know what he’d once been. And that wasn’t a can of worms he wanted to open with her. Ever.

  It wasn’t a can of worms he wanted to open, period. He’d left that life behind the moment he’d driven away from the mess of his last job, and as far as he was concerned, those days were over and done with, forgotten about.

  The life he had now was more important. A life with a good job and good friends, where he got up to go to work every morning and came back home every night, and no one had to die and no one had to be responsible for that death.

  It was good. It was what he’d come home for. And if it meant he had to hide certain facts from his best friend then that’s what he’d do.

  She didn’t need to know that he actually hadn’t been in the army the full eight or so years he’d been away from Texas, like he’d told her. Or that in fact, he’d been invalided out after three because that fucking psych evaluation deemed him unfit for combat. Just like he wasn’t going to tell her that for the remaining five years out of that eigh
t, he’d been taking out murderers, money launderers, drug dealers, pimps, rapists, white collar crime bosses, and various other scum of the earth in return for money.

  Sure, it wasn't honest and it probably wasn’t right, but he was a selfish prick at heart. There weren’t many people in the world he felt anything for, even though he’d designed it that way after his mom had gone to jail for failure to protect, and he’d been thrown into the foster system.

  Vivi knew the most important things about him anyway, about his mom and his little brother, Scotty. About that murdering fuck Clayton, his mother’s ex, who was now doing time for manslaughter.

  She knew all that and that was all she needed to know, and if she somehow found out that he’d been lying to her for the past two years since he’d returned to Austin, that he’d let her believe he was some kind of military hero when in fact he’d been a contract killer, well…

  He wasn’t sure their friendship could stand the weight of that kind of shit.

  Rhys took another sip of his beer, his gaze narrowing as he took note of the cars in the street outside, which ones were empty and which ones were not, a small section of his brain, like the subroutine on a computer, constantly checking for potential threats.

  Maybe he should look up Lilah, one of the strippers at Sugar Daddy’s he saw on occasion, let off some steam. He’d never had any problems paying for sex, mainly because paying for it was the least complicated arrangement for a man like him. Plus he tended to scare women so there was that. Lilah was used to him though and he felt comfortable enough with her that if he got rough, she didn’t mind. She wasn’t a girl who scared easy, which was good, and if he left a mark, she didn’t care, which was better. And it was a fuck load better than the alternative, which was his hand and the fantasies of Vivi that would sometimes creep into his head when he wasn’t paying attention.

  The soft sound of footsteps came from behind him and he turned around to see Vivi coming back out from the hallway. She’d changed into an old pair of sweatpants that had once been dark blue but had been washed so many times they now looked like a faded sky, and a plain, loose white T-shirt. The tee had a wide neckline that left one of her shoulders bare, exposing the smooth curve of it, and it was clear she either didn’t know that the vibrant purple lace of her bra showed through the white fabric, or she didn’t care.