AM Hartnett - Cross My Heart

A. M. HARTNETT

A division of HarperCollins Publishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Mischief

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers

1 London Bridge Street

London, SE1 9GF

www.mischiefbooks.com

An eBook Original 2015

Copyright © A. M. Hartnett 2015

A. M. Hartnett asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Ebook Edition © 2015 ISBN: 9780008148775

Version: 2015–06–03

Contents

Cover

Title Page Cross My Heart A. M. HARTNETT A division of HarperCollins Publishers www.harpercollins.co.uk

Copyright Mischief An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street London, SE1 9GF www.mischiefbooks.com An eBook Original 2015 Copyright © A. M. Hartnett 2015 A. M. Hartnett asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books. Ebook Edition © 2015 ISBN: 9780008148775 Version: 2015–06–03

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

More from Mischief

About the Publisher

‘Sneaky, sneaky.’

The deep voice coiled around Evie from the darkness. She gasped, her heart slamming against her chest three times before her common sense banished her panic.

It was just Seth.

She leaned against the metal rail of the fire escape and grinned at the man in the window. He wasn’t entirely in darkness: there was a light on in the bedroom beyond, but his living room was unlit and the shadows cast over him made him seem like a devil. Add to his long-haired and bearded appearance the arms darkened by ink, the glow of his cigarette and the black cat draped across the windowsill in front of him, and he might as well have been a devil or a warlock greeting her at the gates of Hell.

‘I thought you quit those.’

‘Where would you get an idea like that?’ he replied with a chuckle. The end of the cigarette glowed angry red as he took a long drag. He blew a stream to her left, stroked the cat with his free hand and cocked his head. ‘I don’t know why you sneak around like this. You can just walk up the stairs or take the elevator.’

‘You know why: I don’t want Mrs Boyd giving me that look . The one that says she knows I’m about to do something sinful under her roof.’

‘It’s not her roof, it’s mine. My building.’

‘As far as she’s concerned, after forty years here it’s her roof and she just lets you own it.’ Evie let go of the railing and bent down to give Marco a scratch between the ears. The feline vibrated and purred as his tail flicked like a small whip. ‘Besides, he leaves the window open for me.’

‘What will you do in the winter?’

‘We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.’

She glanced up. She could see the blue flicker of the television Ryan had no doubt fallen asleep in front of, a beacon calling her to continue her ascent to his bed, to him.

Still, she smiled back at her landlord. ‘Care for a quick drink before I head up?’

Seth shook his head, took another drag, then stubbed his smoke out in the coffee can just outside the window. ‘Can’t. It keeps me awake, and I already have trouble sleeping these days.’

‘Since when?’

He hesitated, and she wished she hadn’t asked. Ryan had mentioned something about the anniversary of Rita’s death coming up. No matter how many times Seth said it was OK, it never felt OK to talk about it.

‘A few months ago I started to notice it,’ he told her. He got up from his chair and hauled the cat into his arms. ‘Must be the hops or something. Though if you want one, I’ll sit with you.’

‘No, I’ll feel bad that I’m getting a buzz and you’re getting insomnia. Maybe tomorrow I’ll come down and we’ll have some tea.’

Seth raised his arm and flattened his hand against the top of the window. ‘Give him a big sloppy kiss for me.’

With a giggle, Evie said goodnight and continued her trek up the fire escape. On the next landing, the one next to her own apartment, she felt a twinge of guilt.

I should have sat with him for a little while, she thought. A drink of Coke or something. Let him sit there and talk and smoke.

Yet as much as she enjoyed their talks, she wasn’t in the mood to sit with Seth. If she had stayed she would be doing something he had told her specifically not to do since she first found out about his wife: pity him.

At the very top of the fire escape, as expected, Evie found the window open. She climbed in and closed it behind her.

Barely midnight and Ryan was already out like a light. Then again, he had been getting up at five o’clock these past two weeks. She envied the money he made at the hospital, but she didn’t envy his hours when he drew the early shift, or those nights when he was on call.

He probably went right to sleep when he got home. She pushed off her sneakers and smiled in the darkness. It was his style to grab a catnap so he could stay up with her until she was ready to go to bed. That was just something Ryan would do, to get some extra time in with her after an evening apart.

She let him sleep, using his shower to scrub off her day as a tour guide. She used his soap and deodorant, too, so she was wrapped up in him when she headed back to the bedroom in only her towel.

Her friend of almost a year – and, she supposed, boyfriend of three months – lay naked on top of the covers with the standing fan at the foot of the bed pointed at his back.

She tossed the towel aside, slipped on to the bed next to him and ran her hand along his back. He was cool to the touch until she reached his neck, where he had been sunburned while sitting on the stoop this past weekend. The breeze from the fan ruffled the overgrown blond hair at the back of his head, calling for her fingers to follow.