Page 20 of One Reckless Night

9

JARED

Iwalked into my office on Monday morning feeling like I’d been hit by a truck. The weekend in Miami had been long—too long. Traveling was typically part of the job. I loved it.

But this last trip had felt like a chore. I was glad to be back on the Key West campus. I dropped my bag on the floor and slumped into my chair, running a hand over my face. I hadn’t even gone out on the town while I was in Miami, which was unusual for me. I loved the nightlife there—the clubs, the bars, the endless parade of beautiful women. But this time, my mind just hadn’t been in it. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but something had felt off.

Shawn walked into my office a few minutes later with two cups of coffee. He put my cup down in front of me and slouched in one of the chairs in front of my desk. He propped his foot on his knee. He looked at me, studied me. “Rough weekend?” he asked.

“You could say that,” I muttered, leaning back in my chair.

“Lots of women,” he joked. “I told you, one of these days you are going to take home a woman that is a total nutjob.”

“I didn’t even go out. Just stayed in my hotel room and worked.”

Shawn’s eyebrows shot up. “You? Stayed in? Like you had a party in your room?”

“Very funny. I mean actual work.”

“Tough case?” he asked.

“No, not really.”

Shawn leaned forward. “You’re Jared Welch. You don’t just not go out in Miami. It’s practically a crime.”

I shot him a glare. “I went to dinner.”

“Dinner?” he repeated, like I’d just admitted to something scandalous. “You? Dinner? That’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it,” I snapped, though my tone lacked its usual bite. I couldn’t explain it—not even to myself—why I hadn’t bothered with the usual routine. Miami was supposed to be my escape, a place where I could unwind and forget about the weight of the lab for a few days. But this time, I hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that something was missing.

Shawn tilted his head, studying me with that annoyingly perceptive look of his. “Okay, is this about Dr. Pritchard?”

I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Jared. You don’t just sit in your room in Miami.”

I shot him a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. “Shut up, Shawn. I just wasn’t in the mood.”

He studied me for a moment. There was a knowing smirk on his face. “Come on, man. You don’t have to hide things with me. So be honest. Does this have anything to do with Amelia?”

I froze, feeling tightness in my chest at the mention of her name. “No,” I said quickly. “Dr. Pritchard is a consummate professional. Cold, clinical, and critical. The definition of what a scientist should be. That’s not my type.”

Shawn raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “As if you have a type, you dog. Just don’t go sniffing around the employees. That never ends well for anyone.”

I ignored him, turning to my computer and pulling up a few files. “How was it here?” I asked. “Anything exciting?”

He shook his head. “The wild party scene of a bunch of science geeks isn’t exactly exciting.”

“And Clair?” I asked.

“What? What about her?”

I smirked and shook my head. He was giving me shit about Amelia, but he was the blind one that couldn’t see what was right in front of him.

“She was working on a case when I left,” I reminded him.

“Oh. I don’t know. She spent most of the weekend in the lab.”