by Jaycee Clark
“I will never understand women’s analogies,” Tim muttered.
Fairy dust? Lust? Her and Aiden Kinncaid? “T.J., have you been drinking?”
The vegetables plopped and rolled on the counter as she dropped them and grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. “No. I told you this morning. Tim and I both think you need this.”
“Need what?”
Tim waggled a steak knife at her. “Not what, who.”
She could only stare from one to the other.
“Well, the sparks between you two are obvious,” Tim continued. “They were this morning. And he asked about you when I talked to him both times today.”
Jesslyn threw up her hands. “Well, hell, Tim, will you pass him a note for me after the pep rally? What is this? High school?”
Her friends thought she should go for her renter?
T.J. tilted her head. “She’s avoiding the point.”
“Why is that?” Tim asked.
Damn him, he was right. She watched as he uncorked a bottle of wine, thinking how she did feel something around Aiden, but lust after him? Sleep with him?
Feet thumped back down the stairs.
Tim filled one wineglass with deep red liquid and handed it to her. “Here, Aiden’s probably thirsty.”
T.J. nodded and leaned on the counter beside Tim. “Indeed, I bet so. I was just thinking the same thing.” Both of them were grinning at her, the dare in their eyes. Tim poured another glass and handed it to her.
Fine. She grabbed both glasses, sloshing wine up near the rim. Taking a deep breath, she turned and almost bumped into Aiden.
He stopped, looked at the glass, to the still-probably-grinning-fools behind her, and back to her. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth as his dimple winked at her.
“Thank you.” He reached out. The moment his fingers touched hers on the glass, she almost let go. Shock. How had she forgotten what his simple touch could do to her? Jump starting her system with a bolt of—something—clear down to her toes. God, those long, lithe fingers of his. His touch was still warm. Artist’s hands, she’d forgotten his hands. Masculine with their long palms, the backs were speckled with dark hair and ended with tapered fingers.
Her eyes flew up to meet his. Licking her lips, she gently pulled her hand from under his, letting go of the glass. “You’re welcome.”
She set her glass aside.
“You don’t like wine?” he asked, his voice low.
“No, I’ve got a headache and if I drink, especially wine, it’ll only get worse.”
“Did you take anything?” he asked before he took a drink.
“Jesslyn, where the hell are your knives?” Tim asked from the kitchen, jerking her back.
Idiot. She was an idiot around this man. Why? A writer and she couldn’t even remember what the hell he’d asked her, let alone answer the damn question. It was those blue eyes. Though blue was definitely inadequate. And the hands, yeah, he had great hands. And, well, hell—let’s be honest—the whole damn package.
Smiling at him, she turned and went to the kitchen.
Everyone helped get dinner on the table. T.J. and Tim bickered about something. Dinner went smoothly. Everyone talked of movies and music likes, things to do here in the summer.
They all veered away from one topic. Maddy.
Chapter 6
Halfway through the meal, T.J.—curse her hide—blurted out. “You know, Aiden. I’m glad you’re staying here. Jesslyn could use a man around the house.”
Jesslyn choked on the one bite she’d managed to force herself to eat.
Aiden’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. “Excuse me?”
“Well,” T.J. expounded. “I was thinking you’d be a good watch dog, so to speak.”
Jesslyn saw his blue eyes cut to her, and part of her wished she could crawl under the table.
“Really? And dare I ask as to why you would think that?” He laid his fork down and pushed his plate to the side.
Tim apparently decided he needed to throw his two cents in. “Well, T.J.’s right. Jesslyn spends too much time walled up here alone and what with what happened and all, it’s nice to know there’s someone here to look after her.”
“Am I even at the table?” she asked.
Everyone ignored her.
Aiden looked from the other two, back to her, picked up his wine and said, “I have a feeling she might see things differently.”
“Finally the voice of reason,” she muttered.
A moment stretched between them before T.J. stood up, coughing. “I need to get going. I’ll clean off the table since you were hardly thinking I’d show up to eat.”
“I’ll help you,” Tim offered.
They both split with hands full of dishes. Jesslyn stood and started to help clear the table.
When everything was tidied, and the men were in the living room, T.J. walked to her. “I know this isn’t the time, but I thought of something after I left this morning.”
The knot she hadn’t gotten rid of all day rolled in her stomach. “What?”
“Maddy was an orphan. She had no family, no one.”
“She had us!” Jesslyn interrupted. The men looked up from the living room.
T.J. sighed. “I know that. But as far as arrangements and whatnot.” She looked away, then back at Jesslyn.
Arrangements. Of course. “Oh.” Jesslyn huffed. “I’m sorry, Tinks. I just—sorry.”
“It’s okay. I wanted to see what you thought about it. Not that we can do anything anytime soon.”
No, they wouldn’t be, would they? She had done enough research for her novels to know some forensic pathologist would be finding any and every detail that might help them to find out who had killed Maddy. Once the autopsy was completed and finalized, the findings agreed upon, her body would be released.
Killed Maddy. God, the words hit her again.
“Look, just think about it. I’ll talk to Tim and see what he thinks.” T.J. gave her a hug. “Thanks for dinner, though you didn’t eat but a couple bites.”
“You going to be okay going home alone?”
T.J. jerked a shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve got my baby right here to keep me safe.” She patted the gun strapped to her waist.
A grin caught Jesslyn by surprise. “If you get lonely, I’ve got a spare room.” She walked T.J. to the door.
“Wait up,” Tim said. “I’ll walk you out.” At the door he stopped. “You didn’t eat.”
No, she hadn’t eaten.
Aiden had noticed too. Three entire bites did not count in his opinion.
Tim looked at him yet again. Aiden knew Tim had watched him watch Jess all evening, but he didn’t care. He wondered if anything was really going on between Tim and Jesslyn. He was pretty certain there wasn’t. His friend seemed more interested in the female officer.
Tim leaned down, kissed her on the cheek and said, “I’m going back to The Dime. You take care. And take something for your damn headache. I’ll call you in the morning.” Tim turned to him with a granite stare that spoke volumes on protectiveness.
“Night,” Aiden said.
“Go.” She shoved Tim through the door, closing it behind him and leaning against it. A pent-up sigh released as her shoulders fell. She looked tired as hell. He should probably let her get to bed, or go write or whatever she wanted to do. He had papers to go over.
A glance at the clock showed him how late it was getting. He too had a headache. Another one. Awkward silence blanketed the air between him and Jesslyn. Rubbing his neck, he caught her watching him.
“Headache?” she asked.
“Yeah, again.”
“For you, it’s probably the altitude. Lowlanders.”
How did she make that sound like an insult?
She turned and walked back to the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll give you something.”
Following her, he asked, “Will it put me in the hospital?”
“Unfortunately, I’m fresh out of arse
nic.”
• • •
Aiden pulled up in front of the house later that week.
For the last several days, he and Jesslyn had coexisted. She was usually walking out of the kitchen with a mug of coffee or glass of juice when he was heading to eat. Or maybe he was leaving for work while she was just getting out of bed. Sometimes he’d watch her jog down the lane, or make the loop around the estates. Once he’d even seen her go out to jog at night. But when he’d voiced an opinion on that, she said T.J. was coming to run with her. Still . . .
The whole situation was like a roommate, but not. He still didn’t know what in the hell had possessed him to kiss her that morning several days ago, but since then, that simple kiss had plagued his mind, keeping him up at nights, pulling his attention away from work. For just a moment there, the edges around her had softened and something had shifted in her eyes other than hurt, or anger.
And she acted as nonchalant and uninterested as could be. He thrummed his fingers on the console. Well, perhaps not uninterested, he’d caught her studying him, but if he asked, she only said it was nothing and walked out of the room. Or made some blithe, smart-ass remark. And why did he even care? It wasn’t like he wanted, needed, or was even remotely looking for any kind of . . . of . . . anything.
Aiden got out of the Jeep and noticed the cop car was still outside. He waved and walked up the porch steps. Music blared from inside, some chick mood song.
He inserted the key but noticed the door was unlocked. Did the woman have no damn care for her safety?
He pushed it open, shut it, and walked to the kitchen. Leaning against the doorjamb, quiet, not moving, he was treated to the sight of Jesslyn shaking around the kitchen, singing some chick song about bitches and mothers. The artist belted the song out from hidden speakers. Aiden shook his head, and simply stood unnoticed until Jesslyn, using a wooden spoon covered in white goo as a microphone, turned wailing out a note, and opened her eyes.
She jumped a foot and glared at him.
Aiden had never heard anyone just cut a note off, but she managed to. Right in the middle of it.
Raising her brows she stammered, “It a . . .” She looked mortified. “Gets the juices flowing and the blood pumping.”
Aiden laughed. “Really? I’ll have to try that sometime.”
Jesslyn chuckled and walked towards him. He loved her laugh and wished she did it more. Her laugh was throaty and real.
“That I’d like to see.” She smacked him on the chin with the spatula.
“Did I mention how fascinated I am by that drawl of yours?” he asked as he wiped the goo off and licked his fingers. Icing. He sniffed and realized he smelled cakes.
Her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip. “I don’t think so.”
He sucked the last of the icing from his finger and noticed her eyes were locked on his mouth. What was she thinking?
“Yep, it’s sexy as hell.” Aiden brushed past her, aware of sliding his arm across her chest. A jolt went through him. Definitely sexy as hell. “You’re baking? Would never think of you as the June Cleaver type.” Cupcakes mushroomed across the counter.
“Surprises abound.”
Cupcakes. Aiden turned to her. Her tongue licked something off the spoon as her eyes twinkled wickedly. Slowly, she ran her tongue up the side of the spoon, then twirled her tongue, catching the built-up icing. “Yeah, I like cupcakes. They seem happy.” She looked at the clock. “You CEOs get great hours, huh?”
He shook off the image her licking the icing conjured. “Coming from someone who can claim to work in pajamas all day or night, that sounds shallow. Actually,” he started, “I had an idea.”
The music slid away as she punched a remote. “I bet that hurt.”
This woman would never be boring. “Anyway, I realized how little I know about the local sights and thought maybe you’d like to play tour guide this afternoon.”
“Tour guide?” She picked up a mug and swallowed.
Aiden narrowed his gaze at her. “What are you drinking?”
She tossed the rest back. “Nothing now.”
Coffee.
• • •
Jesslyn held the handlebars of her Polaris four-wheeler as they flew down Gothic Road, dust billowing behind them.
“You ought to let me drive,” Aiden said in her ear.
Typical, typical male. Even if he was an incredibly handsome one. What he did to a pair of jeans was absolutely sinful. They molded him and taunted her.
She ignored him and only shook her head. They’d loaded her four-wheeler in the back of her truck and drove out of town to where the pavement ended. Parking there, in the little off-road lot, she’d unloaded her Polaris telling him to simply enjoy the view and to hold on.
And he was, holding on. His arms were around her, one hand resting—or in her opinion, burning—on her thigh. She tried, quite unsuccessfully, to ignore the way he rode against her backside.
The scenery, she’d think about the scenery.
Aspen trees grew tall on both sides of the dirt road, and profusions of pink and blue mallow flowers dotted the roadside. Miner’s lanterns, their creamy pale green blooms spearing up, and various other flowers too numerous to name, added to the lush growth. Far below, nestled in the dark green valley, a silver slither of water wound its way like a metallic snake.
The late day was clear, or nearly so. Her nylon jacket snapped against the wind as she increased their speed.
Aiden’s hand on her thigh tightened.
“Is it always like this up here?” he yelled in her ear, pointing around with his other hand.
She nodded. They passed signs posted, hiking trails and campgrounds with names like Rustler’s Gulch, Judd Falls, Washington Gulch. She had always wondered who made up the names and why the places were named that.
She should probably warn him. Turning her head to the side, she yelled back at him, “Hope you’re not afraid of heights.”
“No, why?” Then, he exclaimed, “What the hell!”
The arm around her waist tightened, and the one on her thigh vised. Jesslyn couldn’t help but grin at his obvious startlement. On one side a dark cliff of rocks, wet and glistening from the water runoff, sliced up into the sky. The black and wet road—if it could be called such—made nervous sluicing sounds as the tires crawled over it. There was only room for one normal sized vehicle, and Jesslyn hoped they would not meet another car. Their other side dropped off into a snow-massed canyon. She could hear the East River rushing against the rocks below. Cold air blew down the canyon and blasted them in the face. They kept climbing, even as Aiden’s hands gripped her even tighter. She chanced a quick smiling look back at him.
“Watch the road,” he all but barked.
She laughed.
Finally, there was land on both sides as she made a descent on a road off to the left. There before them was a lake, hidden and nestled in the folds of the mountains. Pine trees speared up around it on the far side, part of it was surrounded by a precipitous rocky face. They bumped along until coming to a stop on the far side of the water by the pines. The beach was black, like the road they’d just survived.
Jesslyn cut the engine and Aiden’s sigh of relief blew warm against her ear.
Turning slightly in his arms, her right leg sliding against his, she looked back and up at him. “You did trust me not to run us off into oblivion didn’t you?” He had yet to loosen his hold on her. “I wasn’t about to kill us or anything,” she added at his skeptic look. Poor choice of wording, she thought.
Kill . . . Maddy . . .
“What?” he asked, perceptive as always.
“Nothing. Nothing.” What am I doing here?
Jesslyn tried for a smile, tried to hide the emotions that suddenly roared to life within her. Maddy. She didn’t want to think about Maddy right now. No, not right now. Not later. She’d managed to cram the emotions away for almost a week, but they were building like a volcano. Thankfully her eyes were hidden behind
a cheap pair of shades.
She started to wiggle out of his hold, but he didn’t let go. Instead, one hand locked on her neck as he jerked her to him and kissed her hard. There had been no prelude to the kiss, no coaxing of lips, no whispered words. Just him.
For a moment, she sat stunned. But as his mouth plundered hers, something deep within her awoke. His tongue fenced with her, teased her lips, before darting inside to claim. Reaching up, she grabbed the side of his head, letting her fingers run through the thick mass of black hair. Their tongues parried and forayed. Aiden filled her thoughts. His hand loosened, fingers trailed down the side of her neck, his thumb grazing across her throat, then up to graze along her jaw line and something shimmered inside her. The kiss gentled, going from a screaming, heavy metal song to a calm, sweet, piano adagio. He tilted his head and deepened the contact. Shivers danced down her spine to swirl through her nerves. His teeth nipped at her lips before he skimmed them with his tongue. A sigh shuddered out of her.
Just as abruptly as it began, he pulled back from the kiss. His eyes looked down at her for a moment. Jesslyn licked her lips, blinking. Then, he only said, “You have a nice ass.”
He hopped off her four-wheeler and walked away.
Chapter 7
Jesslyn blinked. What? A nice ass?
She grinned. Guess he’d know since his groin had been nestled against her ass for the last fifteen miles. Laughing, she climbed off the all-terrain vehicle and followed Aiden to the water’s edge.
He could kiss good, she’d give him that. Jesslyn absently wondered what he couldn’t do good. All right, better than good, not that she’d ever let him know that.
Thoughts jumbled in her mind. A flash of a dream she’d had days ago, like smoke, too illusive to hold on to chilled her, but she shrugged it off. The wind blew through the trees, carrying the scent of winter still lingering in the air and a crisp aroma of pine, the smell of wet ground.