It's July 15th, 2022, and Sarah Walker has finally scored her dream job—working with dolphins at the Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute. Socially awkward and academically driven, Sarah's never found love—but when she meets a tech genius whose inventions have the chance to make her research a reality, she finds herself falling for him. Together, their work could change the world … that is, unless someone else gets hold of it first.
Disclaimer: We don't own Chuck…
Chapter 13: And Not a Moment Too Soon
"That," Chuck said, pushing his chair back and dropping his napkin on the kitchen table, "was the best spaghetti I've ever had."
Sarah swallowed her last forkful of pasta, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at him. "You boiled some water and dumped in the noodles. I opened a jar of sauce and heated it up. The only remotely special thing I did was throw in some spices and grate fresh parmesan over the top. It couldn't have been that good."
He screwed up his face, staring down at his empty plate. Then a Cheshire grin lit his face. "Maybe not. Maybe it was just the company."
As always, Chuck's smile was infectious. Then again, Sarah had been smiling nonstop since they'd left the beach. Seeing the wild dolphins like that had felt like kismet—it had reminded her of the moment when she was a kid, floating in the waves, and the pod had surrounded her raft. That moment had changed her life, sent her in a direction she'd never thought of going … and she had the unmistakable feeling that this encounter, with this man, had done the same. She was still trying to sort out what that meant, afraid to label it yet. She knew one thing, though—what they'd shared had been more intimate than any grandiose proclamations of love.
Sarah had always been leery of the word. Her father had said he loved her mother; hell, Bryce had even said he loved her. In the end, they'd been nothing more than empty words. But Chuck had let her into his private little universe, made himself vulnerable by sharing some of his most painful memories, and she'd done the same. That level of trust mattered more to her than almost anything.
They'd separated long enough to head back to their respective cars, then rendezvoused back at her cottage. As they cooked dinner, Sarah had been painfully aware of his proximity—how his hand brushed hers as he reached for the salt, how his biceps flexed when he lifted the pot of water to drain the pasta. And from the way she'd caught him looking at her when he thought she wouldn't notice, she was pretty sure he felt the same. The air was thick with delicious tension, which part of her wanted to prolong as much as possible. The other part wanted to take him by the hand, drag him into her bedroom, and pin him to her four-poster.
She'd opened the window as they cooked, the way she normally did, and the scent of tomato sauce, garlic, and basil commingled with the night air. Chuck stood, grabbing his empty plate and then hers, shooting her an inquisitive glance to make sure she was done. He rinsed off the dishes as she loaded them into the dishwasher. The whole thing felt oddly domestic, except for the part where she wanted to jump his bones. That felt … primal.
She slid the last dish into place, and Chuck turned from the sink to look at her. Their gazes caught and held—and her heart started to pound.
"Sarah," he said, his voice laced with intent.
As much as she wanted him, Sarah suddenly felt panicked. What was supposed to happen next? Should she insert the detergent pod, press 'start,' and then trap him against the counter and have her way with him? It had been a long time since she'd been with a guy, and this was important to her—not a passing fancy or a fling. She wanted their first time together to be perfect—to matter. What if she screwed this up?
"Yes?" she said, hating the way her voice shook.
He gave her a long, considering look, as if he could sense her unease ... and then he backed off. "Do you want to take a walk? I know we said we were going to do that, before—but we didn't actually do much walking. I'm pretty full, to be honest. And, um, it seems kinda fitting to take a stroll along the beach … you know, where this all began …"
Suppressing a sigh that mingled disappointment with relief, Sarah nodded. Maybe a walk would help her pull herself together—and she had to admit, she was touched by the sentimental tenor of his suggestion. A week or so ago, when Peaches had bowled her over, who could've guessed it would've led to this? "Sure," she said, stepping past him into the living room. "Just let me grab my sandals."
OoOoOoOoO
As they stepped off her porch and onto the brick path that led to the sidewalk, Chuck took her hand. His palm was warm, his touch reassuring—and his pace considerate. Even though he was at least half a foot taller than she was, she had no trouble matching her stride to his.
"Chuck," she said as they made their way to the end of the block and turned left to head toward the wooden path that led to the beach, "what happened before … between you and Eden?" She'd been wanting to ask him this ever since the Aquarium—but first they'd had more pressing things to discuss, and then they'd just been enjoying each other's company. Now, though, her curiosity got the better of her—not to mention, it was a great way to distract herself from the stage fright that had consumed her back in the kitchen.
He shrugged. In the glow of the streetlights, she could see that he looked … perplexed. "I'm not really sure. It was the craziest thing. I dropped Laz off at his hotel after I left MBARI, and then I couldn't figure out what to do next. I didn't want to go back to the house, because if Ellie was there, she'd just interrogate me … and then she'd give me one of her pep talks, which can be encouraging, but they're also really, um, intense." He glanced sideways at her, giving her a sheepish grin. "So I just started driving around aimlessly—and somehow, I ended up at the Aquarium."
"I know the feeling," Sarah mumbled.
"What was that?" He tilted his head downward, trying to make out what she'd said.
"Nothing." She made an 'and then' motion with her free hand. "Go on."
"Right. Well, after I got there—after Milton gave me a little pep talk of his own—I went straight up to see the dolphins. There was a crowd by the tank, like you saw—but Eden still singled me out, came right up to the glass. I moved left, then right … and whatever I did, she did it too—like a bizarre game of follow-the-leader. I have no idea how she was able to mimic me like that, but she did. People started staring, and I couldn't blame them. I bet they thought I was some kind of Cetacean whisperer—a freakin' aquatic Cesar Milan." He gave her a shy smile. "It was the most incredible feeling in the world. We even did the chicken dance together. Did you see?"
"Oh, I saw, all right. I think that was right after I showed up. It was certainly … memorable," Sarah said, unable to keep the amusement from her voice.
His lips pressed together, taking mock offence. "Hey, don't knock it. I do a mean chicken dance."
"It was pretty cute," she admitted. "On both your parts." She gave his hand a little squeeze. "But what happened after that? If I didn't know any better, I'd say it looked like you both fell into some kind of … trance."
They stepped onto the worn wood of the boardwalk as Chuck shook his head, looking bewildered once more. "That's the really crazy part. Our eyes met, and then—out of nowhere—all of these vivid memories flashed through my mind, one after another. I don't think I could've stopped them if I tried—not that I really wanted to."
The boards creaked underneath Sarah's feet. Not far off, she could hear the susurrus of the waves. A gust of wind blew her hair into her eyes; with her free hand, she brushed it away. "Memories? Of what?"
They'd reached the end of the boardwalk, and negotiated the path between the dunes to reach the water. In the dark, the dunes rose on either side of them—humped, mysterious shapes that, with a little imagination, could have been anything: A series of hunched giants; a pod of humpback whales, breaching the waves. The beach was deserted, and the moon rode high in the sky, its light reflecting off the ocean. Sarah let go of Chuck's hand to take off her sandals, wanting to feel the sand between her toes. He bent down to remove his shoes and socks, not looking at her—as if he needed time to consider her question.
Wanting to give it to him, she made her way closer to the water's edge. He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist—tentatively, as if afraid she'd push him away. Instead, she leaned back against him, feeling the long line of his body against hers. She felt his warm breath against her cheek a moment before he whispered, "Of you."
She would've turned to face him, but she didn't want to move. "What do you mean?" Her voice was hushed, even though they were the only ones on the beach. The moment seemed sacred, somehow; she didn't want to shatter it.
He trailed a line of feather-light kisses from her collarbone to her jaw; she shivered beneath his lips, and she felt his body tremble against hers. "I mean," he said, his teeth grazing her skin, "that every memory I had was of you. The first time we met, on this beach." He swept her hair back from her face, his lips finding the sensitive spot beneath her ear. "The huge smile on your face when Finn 'said' your name." Another kiss. "How nervous you looked the first time you asked me over for dinner … as if there was any way in hell I'd ever say no."
One of his hands flattened on her belly, pulling her tight against him. When he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. "I already have so many memories of you. And I saw them all, one after the other—like a slideshow. Except for the last one … it was like I was looking through your eyes, back at your lab. Like I was you, instead of myself. And then I somehow knew how bad you'd felt when I left MBARI. I could feel it right down to my marrow. I know it doesn't make any sense—but it's the truth."
The sincerity in his voice was unmistakable—and with those words, her anxiety fell away. Right now—this moment, this man—it was right. He saw her for who she was. He understood her. And his connection with the dolphins she loved superseded the explicable.
All her life, men had pursued Sarah … Bryce included. But for the first time, she'd found someone she wanted for herself—a man who exceeded every expectation for a partner she'd hoped to have. Drawing a lungful of salty air for courage, she shifted against him, and felt as well as heard his sharp intake of breath. "I can't pretend to understand any of this, but I do know one thing. You're incredibly special, Chuck. I've never met anyone like you. And I realize that at some point you'll need to head back to Cupertino … but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to ask if perhaps you might consider staying here. With me."
His arms loosened, as if in surprise; she turned within them, no longer afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing, and stood on her toes to kiss him.
The simmering electricity she felt every time they kissed sparked—then caught, sizzling along her nerve endings. Her fingers wound their way into his hair, and his hands were everywhere—sliding along the curve of her hip, drawing their way down her spine. He trailed a fingertip along the curve of her breast, and she arched against him, gasping into his mouth; he swallowed the sound, his tongue tracing her lips.
Her hands found the hem of his shirt and tugged it upward; he finished the job, pulling it over his head and dropping it onto the sand. Then his fingers were warm beneath the edge of her tank top, questioning. He made an interrogative sound, deep in his throat, and she answered, lifting her tank top off and letting it fall, heedless of where it landed … then unfastening her bra and letting that fall, too.
In the silver-white light of the moon, she could see Chuck's expression—reverent, amazed … and hot. His eyes were half-lidded as he took her in, his lips parted. With what looked like monumental effort, he lifted his gaze to her face. "This is crazy," he said, his voice hoarse.
She forced herself to focus. "I know." It was … but she'd never been so sure of something—or someone—in her life.
"We're in public, Sarah. I mean, not public public, but this is a public place…"
Sarah gave him a wicked grin. "Do you see anyone here?"
"No, but there could be…" His hands roved over her body, as if he couldn't stop himself. She felt his calluses on her skin, his touch rough and gentle at once, sending a frisson of delight coursing through her. He must have felt it, and caught his breath.
"We, um, we could go back to your house," he said, with the distinct air of a man who was trying desperately to be noble in the face of considerable adversity. "It's not that far."
Sarah took in the pained expression on his face and arched an eyebrow. "Do you want to go back to my house?"
Emphatically, he shook his head. "What I want…" One of his hands slid up, cupping her breast. The other one roved lower, pulling her tight against him. He bent his head to kiss her just as she stretched up to meet him; when he stepped back, they were both breathless.
"Sarah—" he said, in one last gallant attempt.
Sarah wasn't normally this bold, her feelings for Chuck aside—but something about being with him was different. Maybe it was his kindness, the way that, even now, he was looking out for her. Or maybe it was the current that ran between them, stronger than anything she'd ever felt, threatening to sweep them both away.
Well, she wanted to be swept. Wherever that current was taking her, she wanted to go.
"I want you," she said, and kissed him again, effectively shutting him up. The kiss grew hotter, wilder; he lifted her off the ground and she wrapped her legs around his hips, feeling him press against her. "I don't care where we are."
"But I, um, I don't have a…"
"It's okay. I'm … we're protected." The consummate planner, Sarah had never been one to take chances … until now.
"Oh, thank God," he said, with such heartfelt gratitude, she actually giggled.
He lowered her to the ground, the sand shifting beneath their feet, and ducked his head, his dark hair brushing her face as he drew a line of kisses downward. She felt the heat of his mouth on her breast a moment before his tongue flicked against her nipple, making her moan.
The sound galvanized him. "Jesus," he muttered—an epithet or a prayer, she couldn't tell—and pulled her down with him until her back hit the sand. Her fingers went to the button of his shorts, undoing it—then he found hers by touch, doing the same. They lay half in and half out of the water, the warm waves lapping at their skin, as he settled between her legs and she lifted her hips to meet him.
As he slid inside her, Sarah gasped, staring upward at the stars—fixed pinpricks of light in a world where everything had changed. His breath was hot on her skin; then his mouth covered hers. She wrapped her legs around his hips again and heard him breathe her name.
Then he started to move in earnest, and the stars spun, taking Sarah with them. She closed her eyes, feeling at one with all of it—the lapping waves, the shimmering moon, the man inside her. As she lost herself, coming apart in his hands—and heard his answering cry—she had the unmistakable sense that she'd left one life behind, only to find another.
Now, she thought, holding him close as he shuddered against her. Now, everything begins.
OoOoOoOoO
"Charles Irving Bartowski, where the hell have you been?"
Chuck hadn't heard that particular tone in his sister's voice since he was sixteen and she'd caught him skipping school to avoid some bullies that had it out for him. Standing in the entranceway, trying to fend off Ellie's behemoth of a dog, he snuck a guilty look at her face. She was sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee in one hand and dark circles under her eyes. By the look of it, she'd been up most of the night. A half-eaten egg-and-cheese English muffin lay on a plate beside her.
"I—" he began, but she held up a hand, forestalling whatever he was about to say.
"Do you know how many times I tried to call you last night … and this morning?" She made a show of checking her phone. "Let's see. Twenty-seven. I called you twenty-seven times, Chuck, and would you like to know how many times you answered?" It was clearly a rhetorical question, but she answered it anyway. "Zero." She glared at him, her gaze icy. "Do you know how many hours of sleep I got last night, worrying that you might be dead in a ditch somewhere? Also zero." Taking a long swig of her coffee, she eyed him over the rim. "So where were you?"
Warily, Chuck edged past the dog and into the kitchen. "I—um—" Images from the night before flashed through his mind, none of them suitable to share with his sister: Making love to Sarah on their beach. On the living room floor, when they'd finally made it back to her bungalow. In the shower, when they tried to rid themselves of the gritty sand. Against her bedroom wall, their towels pooled in a heap by their feet. This morning when they'd woken, wrapped tightly around each other, cocooned in her king-sized bed. "I've been with Sarah," he blurted, painfully aware of its double meaning.
His sister's eyes narrowed. "All night long?"
He blushed.
"Oh," she said, drawing out the word. "Ohhhhhh."
"I'm sorry I didn't call. My phone died and I just … I was … distracted." It was the most gentlemanly way he could think of to describe his state of mind.
"I bet you were," Ellie said, but it was a token jab; she was grinning at him, her fury evaporated. Pushing out the chair next to her, she gestured for him to sit down. "Tell me everything. I mean, not everything everything—total TMI—but … did you two … you know?"
"Ellie!" Chuck hadn't thought it was possible for him to blush even harder, but apparently he'd been wrong.
"You did!" Ellie clapped her hands together in glee. "Oh my God, Chuck, this is so great. She's such an amazing woman—the complete opposite of that … succubus from Stanford. I'm so happy for you!"
He sank down next to her, putting his head in his hands. Ellie's enthusiasm was a little hard to take this early in the morning. "Does this mean you forgive me for not calling?" he mumbled in the direction of her plate. "Because I'm starving, and if you're not gonna eat that sandwich …"
"Don't change the subject!" She poked him in the shoulder. "How can you talk about sandwiches at a time like this?"
Sighing, he lifted his head. "Maybe a better question is, how can I talk about my love life with my sister?"
"Your sex life, you mean." She gave him a devilish grin.
"Ellie!"
"Shhh. You'll wake up Devon." Looking entirely self-satisfied, she slid the sandwich across the table toward him. "So, are you two officially dating now?"
He gave her a flat look. "No, Ellie. I thought I'd have my wicked way with her and never speak to her again. Of course we're dating! At least, I assume so … we never actually talked about it…" An expression of consternation crept across his face. He and Sarah hadn't done that much talking after the beach, come to think of it—at least not with words. Not that he'd been complaining at the time, but now…
She'd told him the truth about Bryce, even though it'd obviously been painful for her. She'd said she wanted him to stay in Monterey. That had to mean something, right—beyond the incredible physical connection they'd shared?
"Men," Ellie said, taking another sip of her coffee. She sounded put-upon. "Why are you all so … clueless?"
"Me? Clueless? Sarah didn't bring it up either! If she had, I would've told her it was a foregone conclusion … at least on my part…" He dropped his head into his hands again. What if she'd been afraid to bring it up, after the way Bryce had treated her? He should've said something … should've reassured her … After all, she'd invited him to stay in Monterey, and he'd never even answered her …
"I'm just giving you a hard time, Chuck. C'mon, eat your sandwich. Gotta keep up your energy. You never know when you might need a quick … spurt."
When he looked up at Ellie, she was smirking, clearly pleased with her disturbing quip. Annoyed, he grabbed the egg-and-cheese sandwich off her plate and took a bite. It was cold, but he didn't care; he had bigger problems to deal with.
"I really like her, Ellie," he said through a mouthful of sandwich.
"Well, I would hope so."
"No … I mean … I really, really like her. And I think—as crazy as it sounds—that she might feel the same way, but … I live in Cupertino, you know? And she lives here. And she's got this really pushy ex…" His voice trailed off. Trying to explain the whole DolphinSpeak/Bryce situation would require more energy than he currently possessed.
"It'll work out, Chuck." All traces of amusement gone from her voice, she put her hand on his. "The two of you together—I think you've got the potential for something really special. You're quirky in the same amazing ways … you're both ridiculously smart … and anyone with eyes can see how much she likes you. Try not to worry too much. Your job's pretty portable, if it comes to that. And there are worse places to live than Monterey."She gave him an assessing glance. "I know it's easier said than done—especially for you—but for now, try to just enjoy your time together and keep an open mind."
As usual, much as he hated to admit it, Ellie had a good point—they didn't have to figure everything out right now. Maybe later tonight, after they were done at the lab, he and Sarah could talk about their relationship … and if she'd been serious about wanting him to stay in Monterey. Such a decision seemed incredibly impulsive, something that Chuck usually wasn't … but everything about being with Sarah was different. He was in uncharted territory—and as terrifying as it was, he was loving every second.
"Thanks, sis." Feeling a little better, he shoved the rest of the sandwich in his mouth and pushed his chair back, getting to his feet. "I'm gonna grab a quick shower. I need to pick up Laszlo and head back over to Sarah's lab. We've pretty much finished the MRI table—just have to put a few finishing touches on it. After that, I figure we can start working on the EEG cap and misting system while we wait to get the final part from Manoosh for the cymatics rig."
She stood too, walking over to put her mug in the sink. "Oh, so you managed to drag him into this too? Impressive."
"Just for the one part," Chuck said, sounding sheepish. "It's a precision piece that I wouldn't trust to anyone else. He said it would probably take him a couple days, though, so we might as well get this other stuff knocked out."
Ellie ran water into the mug and held her hand out for the sandwich's plate. "You're really having fun with this project, aren't you? Sarah aside?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"No reason. It's just …" She gave him a guileless, open look. In it, he could see how much his sister loved him. "It's good to see you so engaged … and so happy," she finished, her voice soft.
Chuck's throat was too tight with emotion to reply, but it didn't matter; she was already turning back to the sink. "Now," she said over the sound of running water, "while you're busy geeking out with your girlfriend over sound waves and data points, I plan to spend today napping on the beach with my husband, soaking up the rays. So after I finish these dishes, I'm going to go wake up Devon." She gave Chuck a mischievous glance over her shoulder. "You better hurry up with that shower, though. Otherwise I can guarantee he'll be sitting right here when you get out, wanting to hear all about last night and give you some pointers on your … technique."
OoOoOoOoO
Chuck took the quickest shower in the history of mankind—and not just because he didn't feel like sharing the private details of his sex life with Devon. Ellie was right—Devon would be way too interested. Chuck hadn't dated anyone since she and Devon had gotten together, and the guy was always trying to give him these ridiculous dude-bro dating tips. They were probably a gold mine for an extreme athlete like Devon, but Chuck's competitive streak ran to math decathlons rather than Ironman triathlons. There was no way in hell he'd be able to pull off any of Devon's suggestions, but Captain Awesome—as Chuck thought of him in the privacy of his own head—never quit trying.
Yeah, he didn't want to tell Devon—or anyone else—what had happened last night. That was between him and Sarah, and Chuck wanted to savor it. It still didn't feel real … and that was part of why he was in such a hurry. He'd told Sarah he'd meet her at MBARI as soon as he'd had a chance to shower and grab Laszlo, and he was eager to see her again. More than that, he wanted to make sure that last night wasn't some kind of fluke. He didn't think it was, but still … Nights like that happened to someone else, not Chuck "Rejection is My Middle Name" Bartowski.
He was walking himself through every detail of their night together—for accuracy's sake, he told himself—when he pulled up under the portico at Laszlo's hotel. Belatedly, he remembered that Bryce was staying here too, and took a wary glance around—but Sarah's overzealous ex was nowhere to be found. With any luck, he'd decided to cut his losses and head back to San Fran with his tail between his legs.
Laz, however, was leaning against the wall under the portico, to-go coffee cup in one hand. Seeing Chuck, he pushed off the wall, yanked open the Tesla's door, and flopped down into the passenger seat.
"Morning, Bartowski," he muttered.
"Morning, brother," Chuck said in reply, putting the car in gear and pulling out into traffic.
He'd thought he sounded normal, but apparently not. Laz gave him a suspicious sidelong glance. "For someone who looked like Eeyore the last time I laid eyes on him, you've certainly had a turnaround. What's got you so goddamn cheerful?"
"I'm not cheerful," Chuck protested, trying to wipe the smile off his face.
"Bullshit." Laz straightened up, the suspicious glare intensifying. "You're practically radiating cheer. It's a little much, especially on an empty stomach."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Laz peered at him more closely. "Holy shit," he said in the tone of a guy to whom a revelation has been vouchsafed. "You got laid, didn't you?"
Chuck didn't say a word, but it didn't seem to matter; Laszlo saw right through him.
"Oh my God, you did. You totally sealed the deal." He slouched back down in his seat, folding his arms across his chest. "I can't even get Lou to have a freaking drink with me and you boned Sarah Walker. We're living in the goddamn Upside Down."
"I did not bone Sarah!" Chuck said, goaded into speech.
"Boned her. Made sweet, sweet love to her. Whatever nomenclature you'd like to assign." Laz gave a dismissive wave. "The point is, you did the deed. I don't know if I should be jealous or proud of you. But since I know you're not gonna give me the tawdry details, I'll settle for finding out what the hell got your panties in such a wad when we left the lab last night."
Chuck shifted in his seat, eyeing a Corvette that was edging perilously close to their lane. "It was no big deal. Just a misunderstanding."
"Uh huh," Laszlo said, sounding unconvinced. "Give me something, man. Throw me a bone here. Did you get that? A bone? I'm just gonna sit over here, making terrible jokes, until you string more than two sentences together…"
Speeding up to pass the Corvette, Chuck groaned. "Okay. Fine. Here's what happened, in a nutshell. You probably should know about it, anyway." In as few sentences as possible, he sketched out the details of Bryce's appearance, his meeting with Beckman, and his offer to underwrite Sarah's project.
Laz arched an eyebrow. "He wants to underwrite her project? Along with Sarah herself, I presume…"
"You have such a way with words."
"No wonder you came tearing out of there like your ass was on fire." Laz frowned, looking puzzled. "Dude. Why don't you just step up? Does Sarah know how loaded you are?"
Feeling uncomfortable, Chuck shrugged. "I don't want her to feel beholden to me. Like, what if I funded the whole project and then things didn't work out between us? Maybe she'd feel like she had to stay with me or risk losing the money. I wouldn't want to put her in that position. I think she already feels bad that I've invested so much."
"Fair enough." Laz took a gulp of his coffee. "And I take that as a no."
"I don't like talking about my money, Laz. You know that." Chuck turned right, heading for the bridge that would take them to the island. He rolled down the window, breathing in the brackish scent of the marsh. Yeah … he could get used to this.
Laszlo sighed, slouching lower in his seat. "I know. Just another way in which you're a better man than I. If I had as many Benjamins as you do, I'd be reeling in the ladies left and right. But no … not you. You're all 'please, let me help you save the world…'"
The tires whirred as Chuck drove onto the bridge. "Anyway," he said, desperate to change the subject, "Don't be surprised if Larkin shows up today, is all I'm saying."
Laz snorted. "Oh, I can't wait."
"If he does, please try not to piss him off. I think Sarah really needs that funding."
Laz's only response was another snort.
OoOoOoOoO
Sarah spent the first hour at MBARI puttering around the lab. Yeah, she was working—analyzing data patterns, crunching numbers, putting the finishing touches on a journal article she hoped to submit for peer review—but her mind was on Chuck. Every two seconds, she'd glance up, thinking she heard his footsteps coming down the hall … only to realize it was wishful thinking. They'd just been apart for a couple hours, but she already missed him.
God, last night had been … unbelievable. That was the only word she had for it. She'd thought Bryce had been a decent lover, but in comparison, all he'd been was smooth and urbane—a paint-by-numbers Don Juan. Chuck was none of those things. Instead, he was honest, genuine, and vulnerable, giving her his whole heart with every touch—and it had roused a response in her that she'd never felt before. All of her inhibitions had fallen away, and she'd met his enthusiasm with an equal amount of her own.
After that first time on the beach, they'd tried their best to christen her entire cottage—then fallen asleep in her bed two hours before the sun rose, his body curled protectively around hers. She'd never felt so sated and safe, all at once.
This was more than she'd ever hoped for—to find a guy who challenged and fulfilled her in both mind and body. Her only concern was that Chuck didn't live in Monterey. Was this just a fun interlude for him? What if, when his vacation was over, he went back to Cupertino and she never heard from him again? He'd never responded to what she'd said about wanting him to stay with her…
Bending over her data sets, Sarah shook her head to try and clear it. She wasn't going down that dead-end road. Chuck had at least another two weeks left in Monterey. Right now, she was going to enjoy the time they had together, and look forward to discovering what his tech could do for the project … if Bryce didn't get in the way. Hopefully, after their exchange yesterday, her ex had left town; he'd made it sound as if his interest in her project hinged on its potential to help renew their relationship, and she'd made it abundantly clear that she didn't want anything to do with him. Maybe he'd emailed Diane as soon as he'd left MBARI and let her know that he was backing out. A girl could dream.
Ugh, she didn't want to think about Bryce right now. Sooner or later, she knew she was going to have to deal with him—but with any luck, not in the next few minutes.
She lifted her head once more at the sound of footsteps in the hallway … and smiled. This time, they were definitely coming her way.
A moment later, Chuck stepped through the doorway of her lab, with Laszlo right behind him. The moment Chuck saw her, his face broke out in a huge smile. She smiled back, resisting the urge to throw herself into his arms like some heroine in a romance novel. The three of them might be the only ones here, but this was still her workplace. Best to keep it professional.
"Hi," she managed. It was pitifully inadequate, but she couldn't just keep staring at him. She had to say something.
"Hey, you." He took a step toward her, then paused, looking uncertain.
Behind him, Laszlo sighed. "For God's sake, kiss her already, Bartowski. The suspense is killing me."
But Chuck didn't move. Instead he scanned her face, as if looking for approval.
Oh, what the hell. She took a step toward him and he followed suit, closing the distance. When their lips met, it wasn't the raging inferno from the night before. Instead it was sweet—and reassuring, as if to tell her that everything between them was as wonderful as she'd imagined.
Sarah's nervousness faded away. She stepped back, cleared her throat, and glanced at Laszlo, who'd made a point of covering his face to give them privacy. "Thanks, Laszlo," she said, her lips twitching with amusement. "You can open your eyes now."
The three of them worked side by side for most of the morning. Chuck focused on the EEG cap, while Laz perfected the misting system for the MRI table. Sarah had been worried things would be awkward, but nothing could've been further from the truth. They chatted as they worked, and when silence fell, it was companionable. If Laszlo was uncomfortable being a third wheel, he didn't show it—though Sarah had the feeling that not much threw him off his game.
Midmorning, Jess, the interoffice courier, stopped by with a package. "Overnight express for Charles Bartowski, courtesy of your lab, Dr. Walker," she said, holding out the signature pad and stylus.
Puzzled, Sarah signed for the package and took it from Jess, who gave her a wave and went off down the hall. Chuck had come up behind her and was peering over her shoulder. "Whoa," he said, sounding impressed. "It's from Manoosh."
That brought Laszlo over. "Dude," he said, staring at the package. "How much did you pay Depak? Cause getting something to you this fast is a little over the top, even for him."
"May I?" Chuck said, gesturing at the package. When Sarah nodded, he took it from her and carried it over to a nearby table, setting it down gingerly. He grabbed a pair of scissors and slit the packing tape. Inside was a note, which Laszlo read aloud with the declamatory air of a town crier:
Bartowski, you bastard, I spent all day working on this. My other clients are going to be royally pissed, but as usual, your weird idea intrigued me. Now I'm behind, and it's all your fault. You owe me one. Manoosh.
"Nice," Chuck said, but he sounded more distracted than annoyed. Sarah watched as he reached into the box and drew out …
"What is that?" she said, edging closer to see.
It resembled a crystal ball, set on a little pedestal. The light from the windows shone through it, reflecting an inverted mirror image of the objects on the other side: A computer monitor and some file folders.
Chuck turned to smile at her. "I'm calling it the Cypher. Hang on one sec. Let me call Manoosh to thank him—then I'll explain."
He grabbed his phone from the worktable, where it was charging, and dialed. The secretary patched him through, and then Sarah heard Manoosh's voice say, "Happy, Bartowski? If you are, I assume you haven't looked at your bill."
Chuck put him on speaker. "You're right, buddy, I haven't. But whatever you're charging me, it's worth it. I was calling to let you know it got here safely and to thank you for putting a rush on it. It looks great."
"Hmmm." Sarah heard the click of a keyboard on Manoosh's end. "Don't thank me until it works."
"I'll keep you updated," Chuck said. "Take care, man—and thanks again."
He ended the call, leaned the phone up against a stack of books, and turned back to Sarah. "Damn, he does good work. Like I was saying, this is the Cypher, and it—"
"Well, I see we're just in time." Diane Beckman's voice sounded from behind them, making Sarah jump. Distracted by the call with Manoosh, she hadn't heard her boss come in.
But if her boss was here, that probably meant—
She spun around. Sure enough, Bryce was standing next to Diane, looking smug and self-satisfied in a Valentino button-down, his favorite brand. She'd looked up Valentino once; one shirt could retail for over a thousand dollars.
Oh, there was not enough coffee in the world for this.
"Hi, Sarah," he said, smiling at her as if their confrontation yesterday had never happened. "Bartowski," he said, nodding to Chuck. "And I don't believe we've met." He turned toward Laszlo.
"Laszlo Mahnovski," Laz said, not extending his hand.
"Mahnovski … Mahnovski … why does that name sound familiar?" Bryce tilted his head, as if deep in thought.
"I head up the robotics R&D department for Apple," Laz said, his tone as smooth as Bryce's own.
Bryce's eyes widened. "You run with some pretty big dogs, Sarah." He held out his hand to Laz, who paused just long enough to be insulting before taking it. Sarah saw Chuck shoot his friend a warning glance; obviously he'd told Laszlo at least some of what had happened yesterday.
Diane Beckman glanced between Sarah and Bryce. "From what Bryce has mentioned, I take it there's a lot of history here." Her voice was dry.
"Unfortunately," Sarah retorted—just as Bryce responded, in a completely different tone, "Absolutely."
Laszlo broke the awkward standoff, stepping in to offer his hand to Diane. "Dr. Beckman, I'm Laszlo. It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise," she said, shaking it. "I appreciate you lending a hand. When Sarah emailed me to tell me you were volunteering your time, I was very pleasantly surprised."
Laszlo gave her an enigmatic smile. "Anything for Chuck. He's one of my oldest friends. The guy's brilliant, as I'm sure you know. And extremely suc—"
There was a clattering noise; Sarah glanced over at Chuck and saw that he'd knocked a stack of the extra components he'd been working with yesterday to the floor. From the aggravated look he shot Laszlo, she was pretty sure he'd done it on purpose. Looking amused rather than contrite, Laszlo bent to help him clean up the mess.
When everything was piled back on the table, Beckman turned her attention to the Cypher. "I'm intrigued," she said, walking around it to see the thing from every angle. "What is this, and what does it do?"
Chuck cleared his throat, sending a quick glance Bryce's way. She could see the reluctance in his eyes—but Beckman was an old family friend, after all, and Bryce was offering to underwrite her project. In the end, what choice did he have?
"It's a three-dimensional visualization cell for our cymatics rig," he said at last. "It should retain all of the information captured by any biosonar signal—returned or otherwise."
Beckman regarded it curiously. "And this is it—the whole thing?"
"Well, not quite." Chuck shifted his weight. "Think of this as the heart of the machine. It still needs six voice coils with cotton dampeners attached to it before we can begin building the rig around it. Oh, and we need to fill it with medical-grade water before we start testing."
"Interesting," Bryce said, sounding as if it was anything but. "Can I hold it?"
This time, Chuck balked. "Well, it's really very fragile—and expensive—"
Bryce made a vaguely contemptuous sound—at least, it sounded contemptuous to Sarah. Then again, Bryce could probably say 'hello' and she'd assume he had ulterior motives. "I'll be very careful. And you know what they say—if you break it, you buy it. Luckily, I have the resources to do just that."
"Go ahead," Beckman said—which irritated Sarah to no end. Her boss hadn't paid for the Cypher; Chuck had. What was it about her ex that sucked so many people into his vortex, willing to go along with whatever he said?
Bryce picked up the Cypher, handling it with exaggerated care. He examined it from every angle, taking his time. With every passing moment, Sarah could see Chuck's body tensing.
Finally, Bryce set it back down on its cradle, unharmed. "Interesting," he said again, and this time Sarah didn't see how Beckman could miss the note of condescension in his voice. "Nothing like the visualization cell in my CymaScope. It's a nice idea … but I don't see how it will ever work."
"Lucky for you," Laszlo said, his voice dry, "you don't have to. You've got a genius with a master's from MIT and a guy who runs R&D for one of the most innovative companies in the world to figure out the tough stuff. All you have to do is foot the bill, big guy." He gave Bryce a charming smile that rivaled her ex's own.
If Sarah hadn't been so uncomfortable, she probably would have laughed. Instead, she murmured polite responses as Beckman cleared her throat and announced that she was going to show Bryce the rest of the facility. A minute later, the two of them were gone.
"And not a moment too soon," Laszlo muttered as the door shut behind them. "Who the hell does that jerk think he is? Interesting," he said, in a perfect mockery of Bryce's belittling tone. "Luckily, I have the resources to do just that. Man, what a douchecanoe."
"He is a douchecanoe," Sarah agreed grimly. "But he's also a determined guy with really deep pockets who's got my boss under his spell." She shook her head. "I don't trust him. And I don't want him anywhere near this project—or your work. As soon as Beckman's done with him for the day … she and I need to have a heart-to-heart."
A/N: Things would be just about perfect for our little duo, if only that pesky Bryce Larkin would get the hell out of Dodge. Why, oh why, must Beckman fall for his tricks? Will the Cypher be the missing piece Chuck needs to make his vision work? Will Sarah and Chuck find the courage to make a commitment to each other? And what's going on between Chuck and Eden anyway? All this and more, coming up in the next few weeks…
As always, thanks for reading—and please keep your reviews, follows, and favorites coming our way! They really do make this all worthwhile.