He’d already agreed to accompany Chelsea to her dance club on Friday. While he was interested in seeing exactly what she did that made her family crazy, he was hesitant. Maybe he should tell her he was getting a little too attracted to her. Although that would make things more awkward during their time working together, and he really didn’t want to lose her company, or her help.
All possibility of sleep now gone, his mind whirled with too many dilemmas. He rose and started his day. A cup of coffee in hand, he decided to catch up on the paperwork he’d been avoiding. He logged into his calendar on the computer, checking his notes closely.
There were at least twenty emails from his mother and family, and he wondered what family tradition he’d managed to miss now. Probably something involving black ties and limousines. He cracked one open to see how bad it was. The ranting about his lack of attendance at the soirées of New York had picked up, and his mother was beginning to mention various women’s names prominently again.
I know there is nothing I can say to make you spend time with your family. However, I do expect you to attend at least one of the get-togethers you are invited to this season. There is a fundraiser dinner a week from Saturday that is of vital importance to the family. Please tell me you can dig yourself out from whatever place you’ve disappeared to and join us. RSVP quickly—I need to inform the host. That is the polite thing to do, and really, isn’t it time for a short excursion into civilization?
He sighed and closed the message without responding. He just didn’t have the energy for his family, not this morning. He’d try, again, to craft a properly worded explanation of his time away from the heritage home and the family social standing.
Not that they would listen, but even if they chose to be impolite and pushy, he could act differently.
He just didn’t give a damn about the money, and they would not understand. He snorted in disgust. Probably more like they couldn’t understand. Why would anyone turn their back on a soft comfortable life, where the battles were fought and discoveries were made in the boardroom and stock market, instead of with a shovel and hours of fine research?
It was going to be a long day.
The thought of spending time with Chelsea was the only thing bringing a spot of brightness to the cloud that had moved in over his head. And still—should he tell her he didn’t feel they should try to scam Braden anymore? Or would that make her too uncomfortable in his presence?
What about Braden himself?
Jamie looked around the room. The man’s taste in art intrigued him. The beauty of the apartment’s location and the delicate touches in decorating contrasted sharply with the size and appearance of the man. Why the hell was Braden so fascinating?
Jamie collapsed onto the couch. Between his job and his family and their expectations, he had more than he wanted on his to-be-dealt-with list. Adding in the strange sense of restlessness and the sexual frustration he was experiencing…
It wasn’t even seven a.m. and he was ready to go back to bed.
Chapter Four
Braden eyed the enormous heap of paperwork on his desk with suspicion. “What the hell is all that?”
Getting into the office early was supposed to be a respite from hanging around Chelsea. He still wasn’t sure what to do about his attraction to her, and after watching her with Jamie for the past week, it had taken all his willpower to not make a move. Allowing someone else to get close to her seemed stupider by the minute.
The other officer on duty tapped the wad of forms under her hand. “Complaints, non-urgent.”
Shit. “No way. I’ve never seen a pile that big around here. Jaffrey’s Cove is a nice quiet place. Have aliens suddenly invaded us?” Braden sat in his chair and rolled closer, dragging a couple of forms over to examine them. “These can’t be serious. Someone wants to report they saw a spaceship landing in Miller’s field?”
“You did mention aliens. UFOs would make sense.”
“Jesus. So I’m going to have to spend the morning reassuring Old Man Cedric it’s safe to walk the shore without zombies attacking?”
Helen laughed at him. “Hey, you’re not the only one dealing with crap. Things are getting downright silly around here. All my callouts this morning ended up being pranks. Deck furniture dumped in a swimming pool, someone tipped over the outhouse at the lighthouse lookout—”
Braden snorted. “Tipped over the outhouse. Isn’t that just a little trite?”
She shrugged. “There’s something up this tourist season, that’s for sure. Here…” She grabbed the papers and started sorting them into two piles. “I’ll deal with the obviously stupid ones today. You can have them tomorrow.”
“You think this insanity is going to keep up for the rest of the summer?” He flipped through a few of the complaint forms.
“I hope not, but—”
“Hell.” Braden stood, paper in hand. It was a message from Jamie. There’d been vandalism out at the condo.
“What, Chief?” Helen leaned over and swore. “Damn, I didn’t hear that one come in. Sorry. You want to take it right now?”
Braden accepted the other papers she held out to him. “Yeah, with a stranger in the place… You okay to hold down the fort for a while?”
Helen nodded. “Of course. If the aliens end up being mind-swapping freaks, remember I don’t like purple. If you see me wearing mauve, you know I’ve been taken over.”
They both chuckled as Braden hurried out the door. His assistant deputy was rock solid, and he could trust her to take care of things in his absence. He drove the short distance back to his condo without turning on the flashing lights.
While he drove, he wracked his brains for a reason for all the chaos. The only major change he knew of was that the previous matriarch had stepped down and Alexia had taken over. But how could that possibly affect the rest of the population? Most of the locals were full human, and ninety-nine percent of them totally unaware of the existence of merfolk. There was the usual huge influx of summer tourists—but the variation in everyone’s behavior made no sense.
Jamie’s car still sat in the parking lot, so Braden knocked on the door of the condo. When there was no answer, he let himself in.
“Jamie? You here?” The last thing he wanted was to freak the man out coming in unannounced.
Braden paced slowly into the living room, noting small signs of his visitor around the place. An open laptop lay on the dining room table, a few of the unending notebooks Chelsea had been writing in stacked neatly to the side.
There was no sign of the vandalism Jamie had reported, although a bucket and washcloth sat next to the sink. Braden stepped to the balcony to examine the windows closer. They sparkled in the morning light, moisture still clinging to the edges. Jamie had cleaned the glass recently.
The sound of running water met his ears and he headed toward the bathroom without thinking. He stopped in the door of the bedroom and cleared his throat. He stuck his head through the door, giving a cautious look around. “Hey, just wanted to let you know I stopped in—”
A pair of wet arms wrapped around his neck and he tucked his chin down to protect his throat. He pivoted on his heels and backed up hard, a grunt of pain rising from the person now pinned between him and the wall.
“Jamie, let go. It’s me.”
The death grip on his neck loosened and Jamie swore. “Stop crushing me then. Damn it, I’m sorry.”
Braden stepped forward, the sticky wetness of his clothing against his back witness to the fact Jamie crawled straight out of the shower to jump him. He must have snuck out the second bathroom door that attached to the main hall. The weight dragging him down lessened as Jamie’s feet hit the ground.