Page 137 of Moonlighter

Eric sits on a kitchen stool, texting madly, an untouched beer in front of him.

“I’m not on the job,” he says when he sees me looking at it. “Pieter and Duff are outside.”

“Drink all you want,” I say in a deadened voice. “I’d join you if I could. Being careful doesn’t seem to help very much, does it?” And now tears are threatening.

“Hey,” he says, gathering me up. “You’re okay.”

“I know,” I rasp. But I don’t, really.Nothingis okay tonight.

“Come on,” he says, steering me out of the kitchen. “Lie down, okay?”

“I have to b-brush my teeth,” I stutter, discovering that those same teeth are now chattering.

“All right.” Eric actually follows me into the bathroom and leans against the counter while I hastily clean up. Then he watches me get into bed, sitting down on the edge afterward. He shuts off the lamp, and then runs a hand down my hair. “Sleep now,” he says.

“Okay.”

“You’re safe here. You know, that right?”

“I d-do.” My teeth click. I’m shivering. “D-don’t go.”

“Okay.” He pets my hair.

But it isn’t close enough. “P-please come over here with me.”

“Careful, Engels,” he whispers. “You might accidentally convince yourself that you like having me around.”

“I’ve always liked having you around,” I say, and then shiver again. “I like it way too much.”

He stands up and unbuttons his pants, kicking them off. Then his shirt, too. I feel the covers shift as he climbs in. He moves over until he can wrap an arm around my great girth.

But it’s not even enough. I shift back into the warmth of his body. I force myself to take a deep, slow breath, and then let it out again. If Eric Bayer’s strong body pressed against mine isn’t enough to make me stop shivering? Then nothing is.

Roughened fingers move slowly up and down my forearm. “Shh,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”

He does. His lips find the place where my neck meets my shoulder. And I get a series of soft kisses.

I breathe deeply a few more times. And finally I stop shaking. “Will you stay the night?”

“Anytime, honey,” he says. “Anytime.”

We don’t talk.And I’m no longer shaking. But we don’t sleep, either. “I’m going to have to talk to the police,” I whisper eventually.

“Yeah,” he agrees, stroking my hair. “Tomorrow. Dad will call them and tell them you were at that restaurant to meet the victim.”

“I don’t know anything,” I realize. “It’s going to be a short conversation.”

“The shorter the better,” Eric agrees. “It’s not a great time to bring up Max’s conspiracy theories.”

“I guess it isn’t.” I think about that for a moment. “Fucking Max.”

Eric barks out a laugh. “I say that all the time.”

“No, really. I don’t want to know some of the things I know.”

“Yeah, but even if Max didn’t share his theories, nothing would change. Someone is targeting The Butler’s manufacture. You didn’t choose this problem. It chose you.”

“Really?” That may not be true. “I got up in front of a tech crowd in Hawaii and told the whole room that I was going to make the smartest product in the world. The most secure. I basically implied that I was a beacon of light in a dark sea of bullshit.”