Page 82 of Her Only Hero

“Yes, that had been my intention as well when I invited you.”

My chest lightened. “I feel the info on that drive is significant, and if anyone can figure out what’s on it, it’s you.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you’re trusting me in some capacity again. I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“Thank you, Aram.”

“Would you like to drive with me?” he said. “Or do you still think people who drive BMWs are pretentious?”

I laughed. I’d forgotten I had said that. “Well, it’s kinda still true, for those that are.”

He chuckled.

“No, seriously,” I said. “Thank you for offering a ride, but I have my car.”

“I’ll order some food. Would you like Thai? Cashew chicken?”

“That sounds good,” I said, pretending I hadn’t noticed he remembered the special menu item we had shared some time ago.

In my pursuit of answers, I knew I was dancing with fire.

Chapter Thirty-Six

I didn’t want to show up empty-handed to Aram’s place, so I dropped into a liquor store along the way. The shelves were chock-full of wine choices, and I feverishly scanned row upon row. I found the merlot Aram and I used to enjoy. I picked up a bottle and then thought better of it. I grabbed a cabernet instead.

The GPS led me into a new, upscale neighborhood. I parked on the road in front of a two-story brick house and a nicely landscaped yard. I rubbed my moist palms together. For the sake of justice, I needed to decipher whatever this flash drive contained, and whether it held any significance at all. No matter how I looked at it, I knew my being here could be viewed as inappropriate. But I’d ensure no boundaries were crossed. This was business. Period.

I let out my breath, got out of the car, and climbed the interlocking brick walkway to the front stoop. I rang the doorbell, and in seconds Aram swung the door open. He looked as fit and handsome as ever, with the top button of his white shirt undone.

“Hi,” he said and smiled. “Come in.” I got a whiff of his freshly applied woodsy cologne.

I stepped inside onto the dark wood flooring. He shut the door, and I handed him my purchase from the liquor store. “For you,” I said.

He slipped the bottle from the bag. “Thank you, June. I’m sure it’s very flavorful. How about I pour us a glass?”

“Water will be fine for me.”

“Water it is. Please have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

The high ceilings enhanced the spaciousness of the entrance and great room. Twin auburn chesterfields faced each other on an area rug. A glass coffee table sat in between. I eased onto the sofa edge near the fire and admired the marble mantle.

Aram returned with two glasses of water.

“You have a lovely home,” I said and took a sip.

“Thank you, June. That’s kind of you to say.” He sat across from me. “I hope you’re hungry. The food should be here soon.”

“I am, thank you.” I wanted to cringe from the awkward pleasantries of this lovers-to-friends scenario. If he felt the same way, he didn’t show it.

The doorbell rang.

Aram clamped his hands together. “Good timing.” He stood and answered the door. By his eager reaction, he must have felt a tinge of awkwardness, too. He reached into his pocket for a wad of folded bills and paid the delivery guy, who handed over a plastic bag.

“Keep the change,” Aram said and shut the door. “Would you like to eat in the kitchen?”

“Sure.”

I followed Aram into the tidy eating area. Overhead, pot lights glowed like soft full moons. He placed the takeout bag onto the spotless black granite island countertop. Aram unpacked the containers of food and removed two plates from the cupboard and cutlery from a drawer. He moved easily, fluidly.

---