Lingering Touch: The Summer Park Psychics, Book 3

by Cassandra Chandler

  Finn put his hands on the counter. No more time for self-recrimination. She needed to keep her attention on him.

  His eyes became blank. Maybe that was a good sign? At least he wasn’t talking to himself. If she needed to snap him out of it, she could kick the barstool out from under him. Comforted by her plan, she crossed her arms and watched him work.

  He was handling everything remarkably well. Yeah, he kept making snarky comments and he had yelled a few times, but he had flown off the handle on a regular basis when they were a couple. Either time or this had calmed him down. She hoped it helped him find happiness. With someone else.

  Enough with the maudlin self-pity.

  She was tired. She hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours and had no idea when she’d sleep again. But she was with Finn, and he kept looking at her with those soulful eyes, holding on to her longer than was necessary.

  She wanted to put her hand on his back. Run her fingers through his hair. Okay, she wanted to pull off his tank top and see if he really was in just as good of shape as the last time she’d seen him shirtless.

  She wanted to do much more than that. She wanted to hold on to him and never let go.

  One touch. One tiny touch…

  But she had no idea how that would affect him. She kept her hands to herself.

  “Look at that.”

  The hair on the back of her neck stood on end at the voice that was too close for comfort. She turned around slowly, uncrossing her arms and shifting her weight to put herself between Finn and the four guys blocking the door to the bar.

  They reeked of beer, and the smell wasn’t just coming from the pitcher in the front man’s hand. Each was smaller than Finn, but there were four of them. Jazz wished she had let Finn teach her more about fighting.

  “You lost, little lady?”

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  How much time did Finn need? How much time was left before she was supposed to snap him out of it?

  “I heard you talking to Nell about trying to bring in some tourists. I think that’s a fine idea.”

  “Great. Take it up with your local Chamber of Commerce.”

  They all laughed and the three men behind him said, “Woooo.”

  “Sounds to me like you’ve already got it all worked out. We were just saying we can take you around. Show you what Clearview’s got to offer.”

  “My friend and I are fine on our own, thanks.”

  She didn’t want to call their attention to Finn, but needed them to know she wasn’t alone. And at the same time, she kind of wanted to start screaming for help. She doubted there were any police nearby. To make things worse, the last solitary customer stood and half ran out of the place, as if he was scared.

  Shit. What did he know that she didn’t?

  She focused on the four men in front of her, took in the way they were looking at her, and panicked. She pushed it down.

  Where was the bartender?

  “Your friend over there seems more messed up than us. When did he start in, anyway?”

  The three guys laughed while the ringleader just smiled at her.

  “He really likes eggs,” she said.

  “I’d be paying more attention to you. I bet he spends more time with that shiny SUV outside. That thing’s barely got a speck of dirt on it.”

  She hadn’t noticed the guy leave or come back. It unnerved her to imagine him eyeing her car while thinking about her and Finn.

  “A man shouldn’t spend more time on his ride than his woman. Unless of course—”

  She refused to let him finish his lewd comment. “Actually, the SUV is mine.”

  “Is it now? I do like a woman with fine taste. Why don’t you let your friend there finish his eggs and we can all go for a ride in that fancy car of yours. We can show you those sights and maybe talk about those plans you got.”

  “My only plan is to stay here.”

  “Come on. I heard your friend say you’re a genius. You gotta have a few more ideas for bringing people to the bar in that gorgeous head of yours.”

  How the hell did this guy have such good hearing?

  One of the guys behind him laughed. “I have one. Wet T-shirt contest.”

  He grabbed the front guy’s arm and flung the pitcher of beer at Jazz. Her shirt was doused and she stumbled back into Finn, knocking him off the stool.

  “What the fuck?” she shouted.

  The men started to laugh. Jazz felt her shirt plastered to her front. She didn’t bother crossing her arms to cover herself. They probably wanted her to feel cowed, and she refused to give them the satisfaction. Also, she was wearing a bikini top under her shirt—she always wore bikinis under her clothes so she could hit the pool the moment she went home at night. They weren’t getting the view they were after.

  Mostly, she wanted her hands free so she could grab some bottles from behind the counter and smash them over these guys’ heads.

  She felt strong hands clasp her arms and lifted her foot to stomp on the guy’s instep. She realized it was Finn just in time. Before anyone could say anything else, the bartender stormed out of the kitchen. With a shotgun.

  “What the hell is going on out here?” she shouted.

  “Hey, Nell.” The front guy—all of them—acted contrite. He pointed at Jazz and said, “We were just welcoming these two strangers to Clearview.”

  “And flinging my good beer all over the place for me to clean up.”

  “If she’d been a little friendlier—”

  Nell shook her head. “I don’t want to hear it. You’re all banned for a week. If I see you in here before then, I’ll call the sheriff.”

  “A week? You can’t—”

  “I can and I did. Now go home and sleep it off. Unless you’d rather spend the rest of the day in the drunk tank. Again.”

  As the men filed out, the glares they cast at Jazz made her skin crawl. It took all her strength not to lean back into Finn.

  The bartender was Jazz’s new hero. Nell walked over to them and threw her rag on the floor in the center of the beer that hadn’t soaked into Jazz’s clothes.

  “Thank you,” Jazz said.

  “Thank me? You just cost me four of my best customers for a week. Do you even know what that’s going to mean for my business?”

  She didn’t, but from the looks of things, the bar was barely making ends meet.

  “I can make up for it,” Jazz said. “I have money.”

  “Keep your goddamned money. Just get the fuck out of my bar and don’t come back.”

  Finn gripped Jazz’s arm more tightly and led her to the door.

  “Finn—”

  “I know. Just keep walking.”

  The men from the bar were clustered around a truck parked in the back corner of the lot. Jazz unlocked her doors quickly, her heart pounding.

  When they were in the car, she said, “Is Nell going to be okay?”

  “They won’t take this out on her. She’s their source for a bar. We’re a different matter, though. We need to leave. Now.”

  Jazz started the car and kicked it into gear, trying not to seem too much in a hurry. She wanted to floor it. She wanted to go back to the parking lot and run them over.

  “What the hell was wrong with those people? Who throws beer? Seriously! And the whole, ‘Hey baby, let’s all go for a ride in your SUV.’ Give me a fucking break.”

  “They tried to get you to leave with them?”

  Finn’s voice was quiet. Disturbingly so.

  “It was no big deal.”

  “You should have snapped me out of it.”

  “You were busy.”

  “Jazz, don’t dismiss this. Guys like that can do a hell of a lot worse than douse you in beer.”

  “They didn’t make a move. I was ready to scream for help.�
��

  “And who would have come to your rescue?” He let out a deep sigh. “Some small towns, even down on their luck, the people pull together and help each other. Others go bad. This one is about the worst I’ve ever felt. In a town like this, you keep your head down and your mouth shut. You don’t look too close at what other people are doing.”

  “I handled it. Deal—” She stopped herself again, clamping her mouth shut.

  Finn shook his head. “This is why I didn’t want you coming along. You’re too cocky. You’re going to get hurt. We should turn around and head back to Summer Park.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “Against four guys? Come on.”

  “I had you to back me up.”

  “Four guys, Jazz. I would have gotten my ass kicked if it wasn’t for Nell.”

  The thought of Finn trying to fight them off—and failing—sent ice shooting through Jazz’s veins. Her imagination painted a scene with him on the ground, them surrounding him…

  “And they wouldn’t have been finished after me. Do you even realize how dangerous that situation was?”

  Yes. She did. She just didn’t want to think about it. That had honestly been one of the scariest moments of her life. She didn’t need to be psychic to see what the ringleader at least had in mind.

  She wanted to have the courage to help Finn, to keep moving forward with him. Nothing would stop her.

  “If something happened to you…” he said.

  Her heart was still pounding, but suddenly for a different reason. She wanted him to finish his sentence. Wanted to hear him say he still cared.

  “If something happened to me what?”

  “Forget it.” He shook his head. “I know who we’re looking for. I have a good idea of where he lives. Head back to Summer Park. I’ll pick up my car and take it from here.”

  “What about your powers malfunctioning? You need me.”

  “They worked fine back in the bar. Maybe now that I’m on the case, Siobhan’s spirit is taking it easy on me. Hell, maybe she’ll even help.”

  Replaced by a ghost. Harsh.

  “What if you’re wrong?”

  “As you so often say—I’ll deal with it.”

  And that was it. No more chances to fix things between them. Maybe they’d never be a couple again, but she had missed him. His absence in her life left a gaping hole. She wanted them to at least be friends.

  She hadn’t even realized that hope had bloomed in her until he stamped it out. End of opportunity.

  Except she didn’t want it to be. She didn’t want things to be over. The thought of Finn lost in a serial killer’s memory while an accomplice crept up on him sent a chill through her. She needed time to change his mind.

  She needed to change.

  “I stink,” she said.

  Finn turned back to her.

  “I stink like cheap beer. I don’t want the smell getting stuck in the upholstery. Summer Park is hours away. Let’s find a place to clean up first. Okay?”

  He sighed, but nodded. “Okay.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  An hour later, Finn was standing in a shower stall in a cheap, relatively clean hotel room that he had paid for in cash under an assumed name. They had wolfed down some power bars and bottles of water he grabbed from the office. The SUV was parked around back to keep it out of sight from people cruising down the highway. He hoped that would be enough.

  He had called to check in on his dad, and Daphne had answered. She said Dad was sleeping, but seemed okay when he was awake earlier. Withdrawn and devastated, sure. But physically she didn’t think he was in danger. That was enough to help Finn keep going. Daphne would update Dad next time he woke up and Finn would keep his focus on the case.

  Jazz had showered first and borrowed his shirt to wear while her T-shirt and pants dried. She had definitely taken the brunt of the pitcher of beer, blocking it with her body as she’d fallen into him.

  If she hadn’t knocked him off his stool, he might have stayed lost in that memory too long to help her. When he came out of it, she might have been gone.

  He was certain those guys were capable of…things he didn’t want to think about. He wasn’t sure how he knew. Just like he wasn’t sure how he knew Nell’s name before reading anything.

  He didn’t want to think about that either.

  His focus needed to be on getting Jazz back to Summer Park. Once he knew she was safe, he could track down the guy who helped kill his sister. His twin.

  A pang shot through his chest as he thought of Siobhan again. How could he miss her when he’d never even met her? He was having a hard enough time keeping it together as it was.

  His thoughts kept running on bizarre tangents that just weren’t him. No matter where they were, he felt like he was being watched. The case was getting under his skin. He needed to regroup as much as he needed to get Jazz out of harm’s way. Focusing on the warm water pouring over his shoulders helped.

  Last he had seen of her, she was sitting on the queen bed, bare legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. She had one arm bent behind her neck and was leaning back as if staring at the ceiling, but her eyes were closed. He’d taken off the comforter for her and folded it on top of the dresser. The bar had reminded him that she wasn’t used to dives.

  His shirt looked so damned good on her. She left the top few buttons undone. The sleeves dangled past her elbows. He wondered if she had put her swimsuit back on underneath.

  The first time he had seen her had been at her condo’s pool. He had stopped by to introduce himself after Garrett had recommended Finn for a case involving one of the exhibits at her gallery. It had been late and she had been alone, standing on the other side of the clear water. While he watched, she’d peeled off her shirt and pants. He hadn’t known she wore swimsuits under her clothes.

  His brain had sort of stalled out before letting him realize what was happening. By then, it had been too late. His dick was already at full attention. He had planned to introduce himself and try to score her number before he’d found out she was his new client. It had been an awkward moment.

  He never mixed business and pleasure, but had still hoped to make a move after the case was finished. They were definitely on the same track there—like two trains heading for each other.

  He shouldn’t be thinking about this. Even the memory of her sleek body cutting through the water was enough to get him hard. He turned the temperature on the shower down a notch, then braced his arms against the tile and closed his eyes as the cooler water washed over his body.

  He felt her hands on his shoulders.

  Shit. This isn’t happening.

  At the same time, it felt inevitable. The two of them trapped together, with their history and all that was unresolved between them… Okay. Yeah, it was happening.

  Her fingers glided down his back, playing with the planes and valleys of his muscles. She always said she loved his back. Then again, she’d been a fan of everything about him—physically, at least.

  She slid her palms over his hips. One traveled up along his abs while the other went straight for the prize. He groaned as she wrapped her slender fingers around him and squeezed, then started slow, rhythmic strokes.

  “Jazz…”

  She shifted so she was kneeling in front of him. He could feel her moving around him and clenched his eyes shut tighter. If their gazes locked, she would see the conflict in him and this would be over. And if this was all he had left of them right now, dammit, he would take it.

  Her lips slid over his dick, pulling him deep into her mouth. Her tongue joined in the stroking, her hand still working the base of his shaft. Damn, he had missed this. The heat, the energy.

  His body relaxed under her touch, his tension and unease vanishing as he fell into the familiar rhythm. His hips rocked against her. He wanted
to fuck her so bad, but she didn’t seem ready to stop what she was doing. He sure as hell wasn’t ready to stop her. Maybe she’d missed this as much as he had.

  There’s no possible way.

  Finally, she slid up his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck, jumping up to lock her legs around his waist. She nipped at his neck and pressed her chest against his.

  Somehow, he could still feel the water from the shower running along his skin. That wasn’t right.

  He opened his eyes.

  Jazz wasn’t there. No one was. He was standing in the shower alone, hard as he’d ever been, water pouring over his chest—and he could still feel her all over him.

  Her thighs were tight against his hips, calves gripping his back. Her arms distributed her slight weight across his shoulders. He felt the softness of her skin, the heat of her body, the slickness of her core as she lined herself up.

  But she wasn’t there.

  He lurched back and she went with him. At least, the sensation of her. He reached for her instinctively to keep her from falling. He felt the warm skin of her back—dry, not wet—felt her tense for a split-second, then the…whatever the hell it was…vanished.

  Moments later, Jazz flung the door to the shower open. Cool air from the AC flooded the tiny space.

  “What the hell was that?” she shouted.

  He tried to cover himself, but basically ended up just holding his dick against his stomach.

  “What are you talking about? And do you mind?”

  “Yeah, I do! You used your powers on me.”

  Oh shit.

  He fumbled for the knobs to turn off the water, panicking. Stepping from the shower, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist.

  “Jazz—”

  “I felt your hands on my back.”

  “Wait… Just your back?”

  “Yeah. What the hell difference does it make?”

  Relief rushed through him. He had thought she felt the whole thing—that his imagination was somehow manifesting on her body. He would never touch Jazz—or anyone—like that unless they wanted him to, through his powers or otherwise.