Shot Through the Heart

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Shot Through the Heart Page 9

by Diane Benefiel


  “I’m sorry.”

  She crossed the room to lean against the door jamb. “Really? For what?”

  “For overreacting.”

  She shrugged. “I get that you think Kyle is dangerous, but we’ll be in the open. There’ll be lots of people around. I wouldn’t meet with him if I thought he was a threat.”

  “I don’t think I overreacted to Kyle approaching you. It’s the other thing.”

  “Other thing?”

  “I’m attracted to you. This isn’t just a job to me. You’re not just a job to me. If you’re in danger, it’s likely I’m going to have trouble keeping control.”

  She swallowed past a suddenly tight throat. “Maybe I believe you. Kind of.”

  He reached out and waited until she put her hand in his. “How about we start with you trusting me when I say I’m falling for you, and we go from there?”

  Rane felt the pull of his gaze, steady on hers. Everything in her yearned to seize what he was offering and not look back. She breathed deep to steady herself. “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?”

  “Okay, I trust your feelings for me. Whew.” Her breath came out in a whoosh. “That’s a big step for me. I know I have trust issues. Even when I care about someone, it’s hard to let them get close.”

  “Want me to guess why?”

  She eyed him, wary. “I already know why.”

  “Your mother?”

  Rane stood silent even when his hand tightened around hers.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “It’s not so hard to guess even if you weren’t a detective. I don’t have family except for my father, so something must have happened to my mom.”

  “You’d said she left when you were a kid. I’m guessing your parents divorced?”

  “Eventually. The first I knew things were really bad was when she left. I came home from school one day when I was ten and she was gone. She’d packed all her clothes, but left everything else.”

  “What did you do?”

  “What could I do? Apparently, she’d met someone else. My parents had been having trouble for a while. They’d have arguments. I would wake up at night and hear them yelling at each other.”

  “But she didn’t just leave your father. She left you, too.”

  “Yeah. It sucked. I was mad for a long time. Until finally I realized Dad hadn’t left, that he was trying really hard to be a good father.”

  “And was he? A good father?”

  “Yeah. He’s the best.”

  “And now he’s leaving you, too.”

  She gave him an uncertain look. “What do you mean? He isn’t leaving me.”

  He brought her hand up to his lips, kissed her fingers. “But he is. Not intentionally. But little by little, his mind’s going, and he’s leaving you.”

  Rane pulled free to cross her arms in front of her. “So what? Now you’re a shrink?”

  “No. But I pay attention to the people I care about. Your dad has Alzheimer’s. He’s slipping away from you, and it’s harder on you than when your mom left.”

  He’d hit it spot-on, and when her eyes suddenly filled, she wiped at them with her sleeve. John sighed. “Come here.” He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her to hold her tight, her head tucked against his chest. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t want to make you sad.”

  They stayed like that for several minutes, his cheek resting on the top of her head, and Rane absorbed strength from him. Her feelings for him scared her, made her feel vulnerable. “We’ve got to stop this. I don’t want to get involved.” Muffled against his shirt as they were, her words lacked conviction.

  “Rane, we are involved. You have to see that.” He loosened his hold to step back. Eyes dry, she tilted her head so she could see his face, and he slipped his hands down her arms to lace his fingers with hers. “How about we try something different? Go out with me.”

  “What? Like on a date?”

  “Yeah. On a date. I want know you outside of the case. Tomorrow night.”

  She eyed him speculatively. “Casual or dressed up?”

  “Dressed up. Definitely.”

  ***

  “So now you’re the one with the hot date. Do you have sexy underwear?”

  “Probably. Somewhere. You’re looking smug.” Rane pulled a clipboard toward her and checked her watch before scribbling a note.

  Lily laughed. “I’m feeling smug.”

  They were grabbing a minute to sit at the nurses’ station, both grateful for the relatively calm afternoon.

  “Where is he taking you?” Lily sat back in her chair, stretching.

  “Don’t know. He’d only say he needed to work out the details and to be ready by seven.”

  “Sounds exciting.”

  “We’ll see.” Rane had never seen her friend look so alive. “So what’s going on with you and the other Garretson brother?”

  “He’s been released.”

  “Good. Are you going to see him again?”

  “He asked me to come home with him and be his nurse.”

  “Oh yeah? Are you going to give him a little TLC of the personal kind?”

  “I don’t think that little fantasy of his is going to happen. But he did ask for my phone number.” Uncertainty clouded her face.

  “Did you give it to him?”

  “Yeah. But I don’t know if he just likes to flirt with all the women or if he really likes me.”

  She gave that some thought. “I guess you’ll find out. But if he’s anything like his brother, I’d say he really likes you.”

  Lily gave Rane one of her direct looks. “Explain.”

  She shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. “I don’t know. John’s up front about his emotions. I may be totally confused about my feelings for him, but he sure lets me know he’s attracted.”

  Lily studied her. “That’s good. It worries me that you’re involved in something dangerous and that creepy Simon character could come after you again. If John cares for you then he’ll make sure you’re safe.”

  Rane wished she could see it as simply as Lily. She’d told her friend that John was a cop and about Simon’s visit. She’d wanted Lily to be watchful, and just being able to talk to her friend was nice.

  A monitor sounded, and Lily rose. “We’re not done with this conversation. I really want to know more about what’s between you and Detective Cutie.”

  ***

  Rane fastened her seatbelt. “Where are we going?”

  “Out.” John’s gaze lingered as she tugged down the hem of her short black dress. “You look amazing, by the way.”

  He pulled out of the driveway and headed toward downtown. The headlights reflected off the rain-drenched streets. He drove competently, careful to leave a buffer between them and the car ahead.

  “Thank you, but you didn’t answer the question.”

  “Don’t you like surprises?”

  “I hate surprises.”

  He glanced at her. “Okay, you play detective. Here’s a clue. The night is about mystery.”

  Rane pondered that as they drove through the city. She really didn’t have any idea where they were going until he finally slowed and pulled into a parking lot. Rain drummed steadily on the roof, and she peered through the windshield. A marquee lit the night sky. “The mystery dinner playhouse?”

  “Yeah, Dillinger’s. Have you been here before?”

  “Nope. But I’ve heard it’s a lot of fun.”

  “It is. You’ll like it. Sit tight for a second.” John exited the truck and rounded the front. He opened her door, an umbrella ready. “Let’s go inside before we get soaked.”

  The lobby’s mirrored walls reflected the elaborate art deco interior and painted ceiling. Astounded, Rane gazed around to absorb the atmosphere. The glamour of the Roaring Twenties had been played to the nines, and she could imagine F. Scott Fitzgerald or Bessie Smith strolling by. They gave their coats and umbrella to a coat check girl who smiled cheekily, her hair fram
ing her face in finger waves like Clara Bow.

  Hand holding hers, John led Rane to a bar set up like a Prohibition-era speakeasy. A good number of patrons had dressed for the full experience. A woman with short cropped curls and a straight-lined flapper dress sat on a stool next to a man in a double-breasted suit coat, his fedora cocked rakishly to one side.

  “This is great. Let’s get cocktails, something from the twenties.”

  He nodded and motioned to the bartender, who suggested a gin drink with lemon called a white lady. Rane went with it while John ordered a bourbon, neat.

  “That’s boring.”

  He grinned. “Just pretend it’s moonshine.”

  She leaned back against the bar to better watch the crowd and sampled her drink. “This place is incredible.”

  He sipped his bourbon, attention more on her than the other guests. “I’ve come here a couple of times. The food’s amazing, and the cast is really good at getting the audience to participate in solving the mystery.”

  “John!” A tall, thin young man wearing black-rimmed glasses and a tuxedo approached. He grinned and pumped John’s hand. “It’s good to see you, man.”

  “You, too, Rex. Looks like business has picked up.” He turned to Rane. “Rane, this is Rex Gerardo, a friend of mine.”

  Rane found her hand being heartily shaken. “Wow. You’re really pretty. It’s great to meet you.” He motioned to the bartender. “Put their drinks on my tab. All night. You two are my guests this evening.”

  “Hey, we came for an evening out, not to freeload.”

  The younger man turned to Rane. “This guy tell you anything about me?”

  She shook her head, curious. There were distinct undercurrents between the men.

  “He saved my life.”

  John shook his head. “You saved your own life. I was just there for a little extra support.”

  “He saved my life.” His tone allowed for no argument. “I’d be dead or in prison if he hadn’t seen something in me. He got me off the streets, kept tabs on me. Enrolled me in a drama program at the community center.” His gaze shifted back to John. “The man who saved my life isn’t going to pay for an evening out with his lady when he comes to my place.” Rex grinned again as John shifted uncomfortably. “He introduced me to the owner of the playhouse. Now I’m manager and couldn’t be happier. So, your evening is on me.”

  Rex seated them at a table lit by a small, slag glass lamp with its beautifully colored shade, and wished them an enjoyable evening. Rane tried to relax, to focus on the event, but even when the show began, she was keenly aware of John. A waitress in a sequined dress delivered their meal, and she enjoyed the play, but her gaze kept wandering to the man sitting across from her. The undercurrent of attraction, always present between them, felt amped up tonight.

  She speared a bite of asparagus with her fork. He’d been right about the food. It tasted delicious. The dinner theater was fun, but she was glad the cast was leaving them alone, allowing other guests to solve the mystery. She’d need to focus to participate, and, right now, being with John was just too distracting. He’d worn a navy sport coat over a pearl-gray shirt, his tie a deep burgundy. Nothing out of the ordinary, but it accentuated broad shoulders and a deep chest. He looked superb. And Rex’s comments had intrigued her.

  “So why did Rex’s life need saving?”

  He chewed thoughtfully. She followed the long column of his throat as he swallowed.

  “It’s a common enough story. Single mom worked two jobs; kid didn’t have enough supervision. Started running with a bad crowd.”

  “How did you meet him?”

  “I grabbed him by the seat of his pants to keep him from falling off a bridge and onto a very busy freeway.”

  “Really? So you literally saved his life. What was he doing on the bridge?”

  “Tagging. The bugger tried to talk his way out of it. He’d worked out some elaborate story to explain away the backpack full of spray cans and fresh paint on the bridge. Had to give him credit for imagination.”

  “And you saw his creativity and hooked him up with a drama program.”

  He shrugged, wide shoulders moving under his coat. “His mom asked for help with him, so I started keeping tabs. Went to a couple of his performances. I guess he just needed to know someone cared.”

  “He’s lucky you did. And then you got him the position at the playhouse.”

  He shook his head. “He did that himself. The owner saw that Rex was original and a quick learner. He offered him a job, and Rex worked his way up to manager. All I did was connect a couple of people.”

  “That’s more than a lot of people would do.”

  John picked up his coffee, long fingers wrapped around the cup. Even his hands were gorgeous. Strong. Long-fingered. His gaze caught hers, awareness sparking between them.

  “You okay?”

  She gave a nervous laugh. If he only knew. It seemed like the more she was around him, the more she got to know him, the more the reasons she had for staying away from him were eroding away like sand dunes against a high tide. Her dad was still an issue. John could be in danger from the DiNardos, and a real relationship would never work because she didn’t do real relationships. But despite all that, she really, really wanted to feel those hands on her. She smiled and stabbed a piece of chicken with her fork. “I’m fine.”

  Chapter Eight

  Rane leaned back in the truck passenger seat. The rain had lessened to mist cleared by the occasional swish of the wipers. “That was wonderful. I’d never been to dinner theater before.”

  The occasional streetlight illuminated John’s strong profile. He glanced at her then back at the street, awareness humming like a high-voltage wire between them. She could feel the tension mounting and had the panicky feeling the slightest spark could set them off.

  She was pretty sure it wasn’t just her. He felt something, but his response didn’t have to match hers. He couldn’t read minds. No way did he know where her thoughts had veered throughout the evening. Nor could he feel her resolve to stay away from him crumbling. She’d built up this crazy attraction in her mind, and now she would just have to deal with it.

  While the internal debate bounced around in her head, they reached the house and parked then hustled across the driveway to get out of the damp. She opened the kitchen door, and immediately Cooper was sniffing at her shoes before rubbing against John.

  “I’ll take care of this guy if you want to go upstairs.”

  Rane studied him, but said nothing. He let Cooper out, but instead of going for a safe, no-risk trip upstairs, she waited for him. Wariness and a kind of banked hunger darkened his expression when he returned and saw her standing in the middle of the kitchen. She approached him, rose onto her toes, and leaned into him. She pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. He stood motionless, his only reaction the flexing of the fingers he had rested on her hips.

  “Thank you.”

  He held firm when she would have stepped back. “For what?”

  “For the evening. And for telling me about Rex.”

  “That’s two things. I should get two kisses.” While his words were playful, his gaze remained direct and focused.

  “You’re absolutely right.” She leaned forward again, raising her hands to his shoulders and this time allowing her body to melt into his.

  He was ready, and when their lips touched, he angled his head, cupping his palms along her jaw to take the kiss deep. By now, she should be getting used to the long liquid pull, to the heat of him. But rather than being dulled by familiarity, sensations remained sharp, vibrant. Savoring the feel of strong muscles shifting under her fingers, she opened her mouth to him and found his taste resonated with a hint of his after-dinner coffee.

  Emotions skidded between heart and head, and she was finding it almost impossible to keep them in check, to remember why she couldn’t get into a relationship with this man.

  He broke the kiss then pulled back to meet her gaze. Long
fingers trailed along her temple, sliding her hair back behind her ear. “You should go upstairs. Now.”

  Right. Here was the voice of reason she needed to hear. Maybe he didn’t want her until she was free of doubt. But she knew the temptation for both of them was too huge, too overwhelming, to withstand much longer.

  “Let me clarify. Rane, if you don’t want this to go any farther, you should go upstairs.”

  Backing away, reluctant to break the connection, she finally let him go. “Right. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Head down, she climbed the stairs. In the master bathroom, Rane used a cleansing cloth to wipe the make-up from her face. She went through a few breathing exercises to try to calm the emotions swirling inside her, emotions that threatened to spin beyond her control into something deeper than she’d ever known.

  Blotting her face with a towel, she paused to stare at herself in the mirror. She was being stupid. She wanted John. From all the evidence, he wanted her too. Maybe if she was very careful, she could keep a hold on her heart and still have a limited relationship with him. With the exception of Kyle, all of her adult life she’d maintained strict control of her emotions. And even with Kyle, she’d loved him, but there had always been that part of herself she’d held separate and protected. She’d had other relationships since then, and while they’d been fun, she had always ended things before they became complicated.

  Pulling the sash tight on her robe, she stepped out of the bathroom. Cooper was doing his evening ritual in his bed, turning around four or five times before finally settling onto the cushion. The glow from across the hall meant John was in the other bathroom. Responding to a temptation too strong to resist, she crossed to the open door and leaned against the jamb.

  Unaware of her presence, he dipped his head to the faucet for a mouthful of water. Wearing only navy flannel pants riding low on his hips, he turned, the motion checked when he caught sight of her. He reached for a towel, the heat in his expression evident in the moment before he pulled it in.

  He broke eye contact as he dried his face, turning from her to hang the towel. “House is locked up.” He paused as if gauging if he could get through the door without touching her. “See you in the morning. Good night.”

 

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