Page 105 of Capturing You

His eyes widened as if the thought of watching that much television was abhorrent. “Let’s pick something…uh…”

“Shorter?”

“Whatever you want.”

She found the remote and turned on the TV—a modern flatscreen that had to have been recently purchased. “If you don’t watch TV, why do you have this? Or was it already here?”

“The owner provided it. I watch the news sometimes, mostly to keep me company in the evenings.” His head dipped side to side. “It does get quiet being alone all the time.”

They were similar in that, anyway.

She turned the TV on, and a twenty-four-hour news channel was showing video of some tragedy. Car accident, plane crash, forest fire? She didn’t watch long enough to find out, scrolling the guide until she paused on an old Cary Grant movie that was just starting, one of her favorites.

“Ever seen it?”

He read the title and perked up. “It’s about a builder?”

“Not exactly, but it’s funny.” She started the movie—Mr. Blandings Builds his Dream House—and hoped Ford would enjoy it.

They both settled back, and somehow as the movie progressed, they inched closer to one another until their shoulders were touching.

Ford’s attention never strayed from the screen. Everything he did, he did completely, even this.

Where she could be flighty and spontaneous, he was organized and intense.

She’d seen the black-and-white movie more times than she could count, which explained why she spent more time observing the man beside her than the comedy.

In all the time she’d spent with Ford, he’d never let his guard down. There was something about the movie, the fireplace, the whole…situation, that seemed to encourage him to relax. He wasn’t scowling or even frowning. The worry lines etched in his forehead smoothed out.

She’d already been attracted to him. Now she felt drawn to him in a way she’d never felt toward another man. He was mysterious and closed off, just like this house. And like the house, stately and dignified, but beneath that veneer, the man had secrets she was compelled to uncover. If only he wouldn’t work so hard to hide them.

They were nearly finished with the movie when his phone rang. He checked the caller ID, then shifted away from her as if surprised to realize she was there. He stood abruptly. “I need to take this.”

And apparently, he needed privacy, because he stepped into the hall and closed the door.

She paused the movie, stood and stretched, then added another log to the fire. Not that she was cold, but the flames were so friendly.

He returned a few minutes later, and his walls were back up. If anything, his worry lines were etched deeper.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“That was the manager at Marie Ballentine’s retirement community. I’m her closest family, so I’m her emergency contact. She was taken to the emergency room yesterday after a fall. She’s home now. They wanted to make sure I’d been notified.”

“Is she all right?”

“She was released a couple of hours ago and took a taxi back to her place. That’s why they reached out to me. They figured I’d have been there if I’d known. Which I would have.” His lips pressed tightly closed, frustration wafting off him. He swallowed, looking beyond Brooklynn. “I need to go see her tomorrow, but I can’t leave you here on your own.”

“I’m sure it would be fine.”

“Are you? Because maybe those guys who chased you are just waiting for me to leave so they can search the place again.”

They hadn’t given up on finding her here. And she didn’t relish having to hide in some spider-infested hole until Ford came back.

Or calling the police and dealing with Lenny.

“You’ll have to come with me,” he said.

“Out there is more dangerous than in here.”