Page 33 of Hidden
She wasn’t the sort to lie or exaggerate. Not about something like this. And he believed her. Believed in the honesty of her words. Even if he didn’t know precisely what they meant.
He knew what hewantedthem to mean. He wanted them to mean that she liked the two of them together, as a team. And that maybe their connection extended to more than the friendship they’d formed. But perhaps she only looked at him as a friend. Someone helping her through a bad patch. He couldn’t be certain either way. And his desire for it to be the answer behind door number one was too strong for him to trust his own judgment.
“We all need help from others every now and then, El,” he said. “I hate that you’re going through this. But I’m glad I can be here for you when you need me.”
She stared at him for a long, drawn-out moment. The fire cracked. A bird swooped by the window, calling to its friends. And a load of snow slid from the roof. Finally, she nodded. And smiled.
“Can I ask one more favor?” she said.
“Of course,” he replied.
“Can you drive? We can take my car, but I think we both know you’re the better winter driver.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, but I hate driving in LA. How about we split it? I’ll take the mountains, and you take the city?”
She grinned, and he knew he’d made the right suggestion. She needed small reminders of how capable she was. Driving in LA was one of them.
“You’ve never driven with me, so you may regret that. But you have a deal,” she said.
The travel gods smiled on them Monday morning and graced them with a beautiful day to make their way down the mountain. His schedule had been surprisingly easy to rearrange. And he’d even been able to move most of his meetings to the times Ellie had her fittings, leaving him flexible for the rest of the hours. So far, the hardest part of the trip had been picking the music.
Ellie’s repertoire included pop from the eighties and early nineties—some of which had been released before either of them were even born—and classical. With nothing in between. While his range included early grunge, classic rock, and country. And a little indy music from his college days thrown in. They’d ended up compromising on a mix of Cody’s music—because she couldn’t say no to that—and hits from the early nineties in all genres.
They’d switched drivers two hours earlier, and Ellie now navigated them through the Hollywood Hills toward her home. He fell silent, taking in this part of her life, as her SUV snaked along the roads. Nearly every house they passed was gated. And he’d wager all of them were priced in eight figures. A far cry from Mystery Lake.
Finally, she slowed and put her blinker on as a wooden gate with an aged steel bottom slid open. “Welcome to my home,” she said, casting him a quick look.
She seemed to expect an answer, so he smiled. “Quite a view,” he said. The house was set on a level area but perched high in the hills. He could see the city far below and the ocean beyond that. “And private,” he added. He’d noticed the fencing surrounding the property, which he estimated at about three acres. “I imagine that’s one of the reasons you picked it.”
She inclined her head and continued up the drive. The house came fully into view as they rounded a gentle bend. He’d half expected a mansion built in the Tuscan or Spanish style that seemed so popular in the area. But what greeted him was something…well, different. Like the gate, the single-story home was built of wide-planked wood and aged steel. Despite the more modern lines of the building, though, in some ways, it reminded him of an old Mexican farmhouse. Edged in vibrant, climbing bougainvillea, the courtyard in the middle of the U-shaped building cheerfully called attention to itself. Long covered porches dotted with pots of succulents offered a respite from the sun. And he could easily see Ellie having her morning coffee at one of the many cozy seating areas. Or taking a dip in the pool he caught a glimpse of before they entered the garage. The house may be large, but she’d made it a home.
“The fitting people will be here in an hour, and Harry is probably beside himself by now,” she said. “He doesn’t like it when I cut things too close,” she added with a grin. She’d told him all about her PA and his husband. And as close as she and Harry were, Asher suspected she might cut things too close on purpose a time or two just for the fun of it.
Giving credence to her comments, the door into the garage flew open and a man, Harry, Asher presumed, stood outlined in the frame. “You’re late!” he cried out.
“By five minutes,” Ellie replied, climbing out of the car.
“Late is late. Now go jump in the shower and do what you need to do to get ready. Ricardo will bring you some snacks; you probably haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“That was five hours ago. We’re hardly wasting away,” she said, opening the trunk. Asher followed her and grabbed both their bags.
“Still, you get hangry. Especially during fittings.” Harry paused long enough for Ellie to drop a kiss on his cheek. When she pulled away, his eyes landed on Asher. And he gasped.
“Oh. My. God. You brought one!”
Asher glanced at Ellie, then behind him. Unsure what Harry might be talking about.
“Which one is this? The firefighter? No, that’s not right.” Harry cocked his head. “Not the police chief, either. He wouldn’t be able to get away without some advance planning. And it can’t be the one who runs the lodge. It’s peak season now.”
Ellie stifled a laugh. Asher couldn’t tell if it was directed at her PA or his confusion. “Harry, please meet Dr. Asher Warwick. Yes, he’s one of the Warwicks. And yes, I brought one home with me. Harry is a little obsessed with your family,” she added, directing the last comment to Asher.
“The genetics of it, darling. I’m obsessed with thegeneticsof it. And the consistently fine specimens it produces. Don’t make me sound like a creepy stalker,” Harry shot back as he shooed Ellie into the house. “Now go get ready. I’ll take care of the good doctor.”
“Harry,” Ellie said in warning.
Asher laughed. “Don’t worry, El. Go do your thing.”
“Aw, he calls you ‘El,’” Harry sighed.
