One-Click Buy: February 2010 Harlequin Blaze

by Betina Krahn

  Her climax rushed on, somehow still unexpected with its intensity. As he followed her, his face buried in her hair, she held on and couldn’t help but wonder how important he’d become, how much of her daily life was wrapped around and inside him.

  How had she let that happen?

  Over the last week he’d practically moved in. They’d live in a bubble of pleasure, even as chaos swirled around them. Her brother’s future was still in question; she was due to leave the country on an extended assignment in four days; a thief was on the loose and the all-important election would be decided on Tuesday.

  “Are you still with me?” Tyler asked, his voice raw and tender.

  Lying alongside him, she pressed her lips to his chest. “I’m here.”

  But how had she gotten here? What was she doing with him? Where were they going?

  “Are you nervous about the election?” she asked, pushing her own troubled thoughts aside.

  “A little.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll win. And if something really strange happens, any town would be lucky to have you.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m home for good.”

  “Not tempted to fly off and see more of the world?”

  “Nope.” Smoothing her hair off her face, he kissed the tip of her nose. “I can’t go anywhere. I’d have to leave you.”

  Her pulse spiked. “You can’t choose where you live based on me.”

  “Sure I can. You’re the most important person in my life.”

  Andrea was struck completely silent. Her heart pounded with excitement. Or maybe it was disbelief.

  She focused on the sincere expression in his bright blue eyes. No, it was fear slamming through her. Definitely fear.

  “But you’re—” She stopped, shook her head and tried again. “We’re—”

  “Amazing together?” He cupped her face, kissing her softly. “Extremely compatible in bed? We trust and support each other. We like the same foods and TV shows.”

  “We’re completely wrong for each other,” she finished in a blurted rush.

  “Well, then that’s a real problem, seeing as I’m in love with you.”

  She didn’t climb off the bed, she leaped. He loved her? Really? He definitely loved her.

  No way.

  Confused and naked, she grabbed the first thing her hand fumbled for, which turned out to be his T-shirt. “You can’t be,” she said, her pulse in a full panic as she pulled on the shirt, wincing as the scent of his cologne wafted to her nose.

  “’Fraid I am,” he said, sitting up to rest on the pillows behind his back as if settling in for a long discussion.

  “But you’re a fantasy,” she practically shouted in accusation. “You’re not real. This isn’t real.”

  Anger jumped into his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you, baby, but I’m real, and so are my feelings.”

  “But you’re supposed to be with some blonde, big-boobed cheerleader.”

  Even as she said the words, they sounded stupid. And yet, that was the vision she’d always had for his future. The realistic one, not the fantasy where the two of them rode off into the beach-shadowed sunset on his motorcycle, a stallion or in a Corvette, depending on which scenario she favored in the moment.

  “You’re blonde,” he said tightly. “I like your boobs just fine, and if you want to cheer, I’ll be happy to buy you some pom-poms and a short skirt.”

  She turned away. “They wouldn’t fit me.”

  Behind her, he was silent for a long while. “And I don’t either, huh?”

  Looking back over her shoulder, she met his gaze and tried to make him—and her susceptible heart—understand. “I’m leaving in a few days. This was supposed to be uncomplicated fun.”

  He stared at her hard. “I was supposed to satisfy you, then go on my merry way.”

  Exactly. But she couldn’t say so. Was that because she didn’t want to hurt him, or because she didn’t even believe her own delusions anymore?

  “I’m not really like this,” she felt obligated to explain. “I don’t indulge in fantasies or take risks. I work in insurance.”

  “No kidding? Sex in the squad car, in the conference room?”

  “Those were…isolated incidents. I’ve never done anything like that with a man before.”

  “I’m glad I was such an inspiration, but those isolated incidents didn’t seem like big risks to me. Maybe because I love you and hoped you’d eventually feel the same way.”

  She closed her eyes briefly. She couldn’t care so much about him. What if he got tired of her? If? Hell, when.

  Rising, he slid on a pair of jeans laying beside the bed. His motions were stiff, and, when he looked at her, his eyes remote. “You live in the past, Andrea. You work there, you dwell there. I’ve apologized for the boy I was—and remember I was a boy—in every way I can think of. I trusted you with secrets, fears and worries I’ve never shared with anyone. If you can’t believe in me now, then I guess all we’ve had was some great fantasy sex.”

  He started toward the door. “But then that’s all you were after all along, right?”

  She didn’t know what she really wanted. Nothing had gone the way she’d planned, and she still wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “Tyler, I—”

  “Andy!”

  Finn.

  “Be right there!” Andrea shouted back as she yanked off Tyler’s shirt. Tossing it at him, she darted into her closet for something of her own to wear.

  By the time she returned to the bedroom, she wore a blousy, lace top and red Capri jeans. Tyler had taken the abrupt hint and put on his shirt, though he didn’t meet her gaze as they walked downstairs.

  Was she crazy or smart?

  How could they expect to build a real relationship on the stranger fantasy she’d initiated? In her teenage mind, he’d meant everything. Her entire world had been him. She couldn’t go back there.

  “What’s up?” Tyler asked her brother with forced casualness when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “I have some news about the silver case.” Finn’s gaze flicked to Andrea’s. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Tyler looked at her over his shoulder. “It was nothing.”

  The love he’d proclaimed earlier wasn’t anywhere evident in his eyes. She wasn’t surprised, but her heart broke, just a little more wide open than it had before, and she wondered if she hadn’t completely ruined everything this time.

  TYLER MADE COFFEE WHILE Andrea and Finn settled in at the kitchen table.

  Resolutely, he blocked the conversation Finn had walked into.

  There was no way the woman he loved had told him he meant nothing to her. She hadn’t rejected him; she hadn’t looked at him with shock and dread.

  He’d trusted her with everything, and she hadn’t just backed up, she’d run away.

  Alongside the cookie sheets, he found a tray that he used to carry the mugs of coffee to the table. A chill infused the fall air, but he didn’t need any more clothes. His anger and disappointment kept him warm.

  Careful not to look at Andrea, even though she was mere inches away, he lifted his steaming mug and stared at Finn. “What did you find out?”

  Finn’s gaze darted between Tyler and his sister. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

  “Fine,” Tyler said.

  “Fine,” Andrea echoed at the same time.

  “O-kay…” Finn picked up his coffee mug and drank. With a grimace, he set down the cup again. “Dude, you got a thing against sugar?”

  Anticipating this reaction, Tyler pushed forward the sugar bowl and spoon he’d brought on the tray. “Go crazy.”

  After dumping in at least five teaspoons, Finn pronounced his coffee perfect. “So, here’s the thing…” He shifted his gaze between Tyler and Andrea. “It may not even be important.”

  “But you think it is,” Tyler said. Even only knowing Finn a couple of weeks, he’d learned the guy didn’t say much that was
n’t significant.

  Finn nodded. “Yeah. A guy I work with told me he’d talked to that volleyball captain Roger Bampton about the church’s meal delivery schedule. He asked specifically about the Wells house.”

  “How did this conversation come up?” Tyler asked casually, though the tips of his fingers tingled.

  “I said to my friend how crazy this whole missing chalice thing is. You know, cops at the church.” He lifted his shoulders, then let them fall.

  “Go on.”

  “My friend said something like, yeah, something crazy happened to him, too. He had dudes comin’ up to him, offering to do his job.” As Finn paused, his gaze met Tyler’s. “Long as he took the fifty and didn’t say anything.”

  The tingle turned into a full-fledged buzz.

  “You’re saying Roger Bampton offered your friend fifty bucks to deliver a meal to Mrs. Wells in the weeks before the theft of the trophy?”

  “Yep.”

  “And asked him to keep this transaction secret?”

  “Yep.”

  Tyler set his coffee cup on the table. His mind raced through the possibilities as he tried to line up the facts and evidence with this new revelation.

  “I can see Roger getting mad about the volleyball tournament and taking the trophy,” Andrea said, speaking for the first time since they’d sat down. “Well, sort of. I mean, taking the trophy still doesn’t make him a winner. But why would he take the tea set and chalice?”

  “To throw off suspicion of the real crime,” Finn said as if that were obvious.

  Tyler considered the idea, which they’d actually floated around the task force meetings—though the trophy had been seen as the diversionary tactic, not the real crime. “As a distraction it seems pretty over-the-top to take priceless treasures to cover up stealing a worthless trophy.”

  “Or really smart,” Finn said, leaning forward. “You guys are knocking yourselves out looking for somebody who needs money or a theft ring after historical artifacts.” He managed a rueful smile. “Or an ex-con who can’t give up the old game. You’re not looking at dumpy ole Roger.”

  Aqua had compared the volleyball tournament to the Yankees–Red Sox rivalry. Could this trophy really mean so much? Wasn’t that seriously delusional?

  Then he remembered the shouting match at the station, the passion and fury on Roger’s reddened face as he’d accused Cal Wells of cheating. Could Finn’s scenario be the answer?

  “I got a comparison,” Finn continued. “Once, the gang wanted to boost a rival gang member’s car. We didn’t want the car, we just wanted to get our hands on it and mess it up.”

  “Finn!” Andrea shouted.

  “Let him finish,” Tyler said to her, being careful not to look in her direction. With their relationship crashing, all he had to focus on was his job, so he might as well do it effectively.

  “All in the past,” Finn said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Anyway, to boost the car, we had to create a distraction, so we took tire irons and busted the window of a fancy jewelry store. Alarms went screaming. Cops and employees running around in a panic. During the melee, on the next block over, we roll away in the car without a peep.”

  “I really didn’t need to know all this,” Andrea said dryly.

  Oddly enough, Tyler did. The cops could learn a thing or two from the bad guys. Well, former bad guys. Didn’t Andrea use ex-thieves as informants in her business?

  “That’s pretty smart,” Tyler said, looking at Finn in a whole new light.

  Finn ducked his head. “Yeah, but not in a good way, I guess.”

  “Definitely in a good way,” Tyler said, rising. “I should get back to the station and work on this new development.”

  Finn stood as well. “So I helped?”

  Tyler clapped his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “You did.”

  “Helped?” Andrea said, standing beside them, a proud smile on her face. “You solved the case, Finn.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Finn said.

  “You’ve given us the break we’ve been looking for,” Tyler assured him. “In fact, you could help some more. It’s easy enough to guess how Roger stole the trophy, but we’ll need a lot more evidence to prove he stole the tea set and chalice. Why don’t we head to Mrs. Jackson’s house and talk to her?”

  “Great idea.” Andrea headed toward the door.

  Tyler stiffened. He needed to concentrate on the case. On anything besides her rejection. “I think Finn and I can handle this,” he said as he walked by her into the hallway.

  Damn, he’d even fallen in love with the house in the last few weeks. The old wood and the new paint. The sound of crashing waves, the star-strewn view from her bedroom balcony.

  “But I’m on the task force,” Andrea argued.

  “It’s okay, isn’t it, Andy?” Finn asked, saving Tyler from coming up with a lame excuse to escape without her. “I’d kind of like to see this through. This cop stuff is kind of cool.”

  Andrea’s gaze moved to Tyler, but he looked away. “Yeah, sure. I think you’ll be more help than me, anyway.”

  14

  AS TYLER STEERED THE patrol car toward the Jackson house, he figured if the truth was going to come out, it might as well all come out. “I’m in love with your sister.”

  Finn barked out a laugh. “No kidding.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “Since you said you thought I was innocent, even though you had no reason to back that up. How long have you known?”

  So much for unexpected revelations. “Right about that same time.”

  “You gonna marry her?”

  His heart jumped to his throat, then settled. “I guess. Someday. Maybe.”

  “You guess, someday, maybe?” Finn shook his head. “I heard you were good with the ladies. Boy, did I ever get that wrong.”

  “We haven’t known each other very long. Don’t you think a proposal would be rushing things?”

  “She told me you’ve known each other since high school.”

  “Good point.”

  “How long do you need? Seriously, dude, what are you waiting for?”

  Tyler said nothing for several minutes. “You’re very decisive.”

  “When you’ve been in prison, you learn to focus on the stuff that really matters.”

  Tyler glanced at Finn, who’d turned his head to stare out the window. The simplicity of the sky overhead and the sun beating down was something Tyler took for granted.

  What was he waiting for?

  Oh, yeah, some idea that the woman he loved might actually want to be with him past next week. Some sign that she cared about him. Some signal that he meant more than a series of fantasy nights.

  He’d never told a woman he loved her before. Didn’t she know how hard it was for him to realize that one person, above all others, could make or break his life? To know that he’d never truly be happy without her by his side?

  How could she know that, you dummy? You were too busy getting angry.

  We’re compatible in bed? We like the same TV shows?

  Who the hell cared about stupid stuff like that? Could he have been any less romantic?

  It took the honesty of youth. You guess, someday, maybe.

  That would most certainly not be his answer to getting Andrea to understand and believe in his love.

  “Thanks for bringing me along,” Finn said, breaking into his thoughts.

  “I could use the help.” In more ways than just the case.

  “Especially since you needed to escape from Andy.”

  No point in pretending otherwise. “Right.”

  “You guys have a fight?”

  “Sort of. Can we focus on the case right now?”

  “Sure. One last thing, though. I know a great jeweler.”

  Tyler cast him a sideways glance. “You do, huh?”

  “Jeez. A legit one.”

  “Thanks.” Though he thought jewelry was premature when she wouldn’t bel
ieve he loved her. “I’ll keep that in mind. Did you just happen to find out this information about Roger from your friend, or were you questioning him? Unofficially, of course.”

  “Unofficially, I was questioning him.”

  “Nice job. Why?”

  Finn’s face was set in stubborn lines Tyler recognized easily. “Nobody’s going to take me seriously until this case is closed.”

  “No, they’re not.” Wouldn’t he do the same if his innocence was in question? Tyler tossed over his cell phone/PDA. “Call the station and ask Aqua to e-mail me a picture of Roger Bampton for us to show Mrs. Jackson.”

  “No need. I’ve got a picture on my phone. I used it with my buddy to identify Roger earlier.”

  Impressed that Finn had taken such an initiative, Tyler wondered if his name shouldn’t be on Tuesday’s ballot. Maybe someday it would be.

  When they arrived at Mrs. Jackson’s house, the elderly lady offered them lemonade, which they politely declined, and Tyler made sure he kept himself between their theft victim and the budding young detective. The last thing he needed was to explain to Andrea how her brother had been propositioned during his first official interrogation.

  Well, at least the first one where he hadn’t been interrogated himself.

  “Do you recognize this man?” Tyler asked Mrs. Jackson, holding up Finn’s cell phone.

  “Oh, well…” She leaned sideways, her gaze flitting to Finn, who stood just behind Tyler’s left shoulder. “I certainly recognize that one. So polite. And strong. Carrying those heavy lunch containers all by himself.”

  “Mrs. Jackson,” Tyler said, blocking her view. “The man in the picture?”

  “Oh, well…I’m not really sure,” she said, squinting at the screen.

  She was ninety-three, after all.

  “Do you have a computer, Mrs. Jackson?” Finn asked her, stepping forward.

  After sending Finn a flirtatious smile, she extended her hand toward the back of the house. “My nephew set it up in the kitchen. I’m supposed to send pictures of water fowl to my grandnieces and nephews in Chicago, but I find the Internet full of other…stimulating information.”

  No one, not even Andrea in her skimpiest lingerie, could get Tyler to ask about that stimulation.