Reluctant thief Baz Barret is tasked with stealing from the formidable archaeologist Rei Collingwood--who happens to also be his college crush and rival--but when Rei goes missing after the burglary, Baz must find her before he's blamed for her disa...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
For a second time, a gathering hosted by Rei Collingwood begged that Baz dress up.
Readily available as it was, clipping Angelo Ferrero's obituary from a newspaper felt vaguely reconnaissant, as though the police would come ramming down his door at any moment.
They didn't. No matter how many times Baz awoke in a cold sweat, sure the truth had finally come out, the night was never truly interrupted. Even on the fringes of Angelo's funeral, there were no cops lurking waiting for the celebration of life to draw out the unsavory. There was just the relief that the hospital had released him in time to attend.
Baz didn't belong. He didn't think it in an outcast, outsider context. The memories were simply not his. The sorrys did not belong to him and he hated to intrude on that part of the mourning. From a distance, he observed the rights given over a glistening black coffin, no shortage of floral wreaths adorning it.
Rei's Mercedes waited in line along the cemetery roadway and Baz placed himself strategically between it and the gravesite. A desperate move, maybe. The funeral was the only public place he knew she would be. His text messages went unanswered. Calls were never picked up. He just wanted to make sure she was okay.
The man she looked up to most in the world was being lowered into the ground that very moment. Her brother was out on bail, facing trial. Her childhood friend, also out on bail, stood opposite of her as if they hadn't attempted to claw each other to pieces.
It had been Baz's experience that the hardest times most desperately required support. Rei claimed she had nearly triggered his demise, but there he was, all but unscathed. His chest was still tender where the doctors had cut between his ribs, but the pain was nothing he couldn't handle, no worse than what Baz hadn't been dealt before.
Conversely, there Rei was, trying to hold up what looked to Baz like an entire empire. Angelo Ferrero's estate sounded like a kingdom where Rei was queen, tasked with doling out assets to unruly subjects.
The graveside service ended, the crowd dissipating to return to their cars. Baz pulled his ring along its chain. It wasn't too late to leave, pretend he was never there. Rei would never know the difference.
He would, though. It was just like school. If he didn't do it now, maybe he never would. The timing would never be right again, and maybe it never was, ever. Waiting for the right time failed him because the belief there was a right time was inherently flawed. Life would always be unpredictable, flexible, and why the hell could Baz improvise in all circumstances but one?
Rei came over the grass for her car, eyes steadily on the ground.
"Rei?" Baz tried, letting his ring fall to his chest.
Her gaze flicked up, eyes almost dancing. It was like she hadn't heard music in ages and he just plucked a few chords of her favorite song.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, accusation utterly vacant in her tone. She wasn't angry, just surprised. Pleasantly surprised. Baz could breathe a little easier.
"Seeing how you were. How you are," Baz said, "to see you."
Rei paused, tugging her dark jacket around her tighter. Her hair was pinned up with an ornate Chinese hairpin, the only flash of color in the otherwise stark ensemble.
"I am surprisingly well," she said, taking his arm. "Walk with me?"
He nodded, keeping step with her through the manicured grass.
"What about you?" Rei asked, alive at his elbow. There was a risk of falling into the spell of her eyes. She couldn't fake curiosity.
"Not much to say. Under strict orders not to jump on, against, or off of anything for another few days." Baz shrugged. Recovery was boring, but he would take boring over drug-induced any day. The pain was manageable. Nothing that couldn't be reduced holistically. "But you're talking to me like we're casually catching up and not like you haven't been answering my calls."
Rei sighed, her grip tightening on his arm. She brushed back a wisp of hair, taking any chance she could to stall. Baz's pulse quickened. No matter what she said, it was better than not knowing. It was better than letting a lifetime of imagined possibility hang over his head.
"I've been busy," she said, the easiest excuse, the one Baz expected. "It's terribly boring executing a will. There are accounts to set up, bills to pay, things to file. I'd put you to sleep if I told you about it all."
"But I'd be asleep wherever you are." It was dangerous to wear his heart on his sleeve, emblazoning his thoughts out in the open. There was a reason why people didn't do it. Human beings were notorious for beating around the bush, dropping the subtlest hints in the hopes that somehow they might be intrinsically understood. Baz could write essays on it like he did on paintings, coming up with elaborate interpretations for every brushstroke. He could never guarantee that he was anywhere near guessing the truth.
Rei swayed, leaning into him. Quiet. Baz's heart pounded for an answer, some acknowledgement that he'd spoken at all, but she didn't stop until they reached her car.
"I really wanted you to say something or do something because I just can't trust myself when all I want is to not be alone," she said.
"Why do you think I tried to call!" Baz replied, laughing until she was too. He brushed the stray strands of hair out of her face.
She reached up, looping her arms around his neck. "Yes, I mean, I know, but it's easy to make phone calls. You're here and it's different. That's not just a whim. You don't just get into a car and drive to a funeral on a whim."
Especially not after what he did to the last car he drove.
"Did you want me to drop onto your balcony in the middle of the night?" he asked.
"I also have a front door," Rei teased before her expression sobered. "The museum has, rightfully, suggested I take a break for awhile. You know, with the destruction of property, et cetera, et cetera. It would be a touch less controversial if I took some time off."
There was something unreadable between the lines, a tone Baz couldn't quite decipher. She didn't sound disappointed. There was something else there. She toyed with the collar of his suit.
"I never really wanted to—I didn't really want to drag you into problems that are mine for the sake of having a security blanket," Rei paused. "What I mean to say is, it's possible I do need the break and I promised you an azure coast and I have been thinking about this an awful lot."
Baz opened his mouth, but no distinguishable answer came out. She had set a tantalizing scene. "To be honest, I like the idea a lot more without the fugitives on the run aspect, but it is a bit heavy for a first date, don't you think?"
Date was a risky word to use at all, but there he was.
"Then come to the reception," Rei said quickly, "that makes France a second date."
"So, a funeral becomes the first instead?" Baz raised an eyebrow only to draw an exasperated sigh from Rei. She tiptoed higher, her fingers tangling in his hair and her lips finding his. Any further protest was silenced.
"I think it's a bit late to find anything orthodox about this relationship," Rei said, slipping away just far enough to look up into his eyes. Electricity pulsed around her, something sharp and energetic in her very being. "Will you come with me?"
Baz bit back a joke. To the reception? He couldn't hide behind his nervousness when the question was a serious one. To joke would be to dismiss her.
"Not because you owe me anything," he said. There was no debt as far as he was concerned. "You traded a million bucks for me."
Rei chewed her lip, possibly biting back her own aside. "No. Because I want you there."
"I want to go," Baz said. For all the bad decisions he made, something came out of it right. A slip of fate gave him a second chance.
