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My eyes roved to the curtains that swayed in the breeze.
But there was no breeze. All the windows were shut and locked.
Glancing across the room, I zeroed in on an air vent. Jesus, he turned on the air conditioner at the freaking end of February? I got that winter was mild on the West Coast, but an outside temperature of the low sixties did not warrant turning the house into the Arctic Tundra.
Peering outside, I muttered to myself, mainly to break the unease of the loud silence that filled the mostly unfurnished house. “Where the hell is the damn thermostat?” Targeting a small box on the wall next to the kitchen, I ran my fingers across the wall until they connected with the square mounting attached to it. Squinting, I pushed my face against it.
Why the hell would Ryker push the setting to fifty-one degrees with the air on full blast? Still shivering, I pushed the lever to a more reasonable seventy-five. The distinctive sound of the air clicking off released the breath I’d held.
Then the breeze hit my face again. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Holding one hand up, I attempted to feel where the blast came from. Glancing back to the box, I noted the green light turned off, indicating its dormancy. It was off.
Then I felt it again. The blast of air, the low hum of a breeze.
Taking a slow step to the side, I took inventory of the sliding glass door that opened onto the deck. Irritation replaced fear as I imagined how pissed Julian would be at Ryker’s carelessness with the back door.
If I got away with what I was about to pull, I’d keep it to myself as a self-protective insurance policy.
Glancing over my shoulder, I verified Ryker’s snores, then closed my fingers around the metal handle. Time served as my current enemy, and every second mattered. Placing all my weight on my back heel, I grunted as the last bit of breeze whipped my hair around my face. Once it clicked closed, I stood back and stared at it. On a whim, I pulled back on the handle once more, ensuring it was shut tight. Satisfied, I double checked the lock and tiptoed into the living room. I glanced pitifully at Ryker as he faced the wall, sleeping peacefully on the couch.
Rookie mistake, kid.
Trying to get comfortable, he’d taken his keys, my keys, his phone, and my phone from his pockets and deposited them on the coffee table. Part of me felt bad for taking advantage of his inexperience with stubborn-ass females. Then, the freaked out, paranoid pregnant lady in me kicked that bitch in the shins, grabbed both sets of keys and phones, and slipped out undetected.
I loved Julian Bale, and I loved our baby.
I couldn’t love either one if I were in a morgue drawer beside Elisabeth Cayden.
Once inside the Infiniti, I punched in the location for Crystal Springs Drive and waited until I’d exited the subdivision before turning on the headlights.
