Let Me Go by Chelsea Cain Page B

it to her cheek. He felt her imaginary touch all the way to his groin.
    â€œThere, there, darling,” she whispered. “You didn’t think I’d let you celebrate your birthday without me?”

 
    CHAPTER
    14
    Â 
    The bedroom window is open and a cool breeze blows through, tickling Archie’s chest and arms. In the heat of sex he hadn’t noticed it, but now he is cold. He pulls the sheets up to his waist. Gretchen is lying on her side next to him, but he doesn’t cover her. Her cheeks are still flushed and she doesn’t look chilly. Also, Archie likes to see her naked.
    â€œWhat did you tell Henry?” she asks.
    She has one arm supporting her head and the other draped along her side, her elbow resting in the deep dip of her waist, her forearm curved along her hips, her hand on her bare thigh. Her hair is tousled, and her skin glows with perspiration. He can look at her body all day long—the fullness of her breasts, her smooth thighs, every angle and curve.
    â€œI might have mentioned that I had a counseling appointment,” Archie says. Gretchen’s relationship with the task force has made coming up with excuses easy. She had offered them her services free of charge. Archie had been one of the first to sign up for sessions. He told himself at the time that he was leading by example, but in retrospect his intentions might have been baser.
    â€œDo you think you’ll ever tell him?” Gretchen asks.
    She brings this up a lot. She seems to worry that Archie and Henry will go out for beers one day and Archie will spill his guts. She doesn’t understand Archie’s relationship with Henry at all. There is no way Archie will ever tell his partner anything about this. He has already let himself down. He doesn’t want to let Henry down, too. “God, no,” Archie says. “No offense.”
    Gretchen looks skeptical. “Many men brag about their conquests.”
    â€œI’m not proud of this,” Archie says. “It’s not something I would ever brag about. And believe me, Henry would not be impressed.”
    He’s seen the way that Henry looks at Gretchen. He knows Henry doesn’t like her.
    Gretchen sighs deeply, and looks away. The room is painted pale yellow and the light from the brass and crystal chandelier overhead gives everything a buttery glow. When she turns back to him, her eyes seem sad.
    â€œI’m sorry I cause you so much pain,” she says.
    â€œI’m here, aren’t I?” Archie says. Just looking at her makes his heart rate increase. The attraction he feels toward her is unlike anything he has ever experienced before. He reaches for her hips and pulls her closer to him on the bed. “I have free will,” he says. “I’m the one who’s cheating. You’re not doing anything wrong.”
    â€œI think your wife might disagree,” Gretchen says.
    â€œProbably,” Archie says. “But I’m the one she’d hate.”
    â€œFor a detective, you’re not very smart about women,” Gretchen says.
    Her body is warm under his hands and he feels the physical pull he always does when they are this close.
    He has memorized her. He knows her intimately. Even after their first sexual encounter he could conjure her in his mind like a photograph. “I can’t get you out of my head,” he tells her. “I spent all day at a crime scene, and all I could think about was you.”
    She leans closer to him. “Tell me about it,” she says.
    Archie hesitates. She’ll get the file tomorrow, anyway, and it hardly seems like bedroom talk. “It’ll all be in the file,” he says.
    â€œI want to hear about it from you,” Gretchen says, laying her head on his chest, her cheek over his heart. Her blond hair rises and falls as he breathes.
    Archie doesn’t talk about his work with Debbie. Even when Debbie presses, he refuses to talk to her