She smiled as though she knew. Firefighting was not for the faint of heart. It was mostly for adrenaline junkies and alpha males. But there she was. He narrowed his eyes at her.
“So why do you do it?”
She had to think for a moment. “I guess because every once in a while, you get to pull a person out, or a pet, and that makes a difference. People remember that for the rest of their lives. It changes things. Sometimes you don’t pull the person out,” she said, “that changes things, too. And...” she paused. “I guess it’s like the library, I just need to feel like I’m being useful.”
The conversation stalled for a moment. Not as though things had gotten awkward, but as though they were both thinking.
Ethan nodded, “I feel that way, too. But I think you are being a lot more useful than I am these days.”
His eyes got a faraway look that made her soul kick.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ethan looked out the window on the passenger’s side of Risa’s car as she drove him back into Dark Falls. He shouldn’t have said that about Risa being more useful than he was. It was the dead truth, but it prompted her to finally ask him what had happened that got him assigned to Dark Falls.
Not only had she asked, he’d told her. He’d been drunk enough not to sugarcoat it at all. He told her about Florida as though he were testing the waters, though he had no right to test any waters here. This wasn’t a date. It couldn’t be; she was a witness. He had a dead child and now a linked cold case from fifty years ago, and the whole thing was getting seriously fucked up. But there he was, leaning across the table, wondering how Risa would react to Florida.
“I shot a guy,” he said blankly.
She didn’t snap back or look at him like he was a murderer. “What happened?”
Her voice was soft, and he noticed that she wasn’t drinking anymore, even though he was near the bottom of his second beer. He was a big guy. It didn’t make him drunk, but apparently the beer or the beautiful company was loosening his lips. “He shot at us, and he hit my partner.”
Risa’s eyes went wide. “Is she okay?”
“It was a good hit. Center mass. Luckily, she was wearing her vest. But I saw her go down, and I thought she was dead. She’s okay now, but I thought he’d killed her because I hadn’t done the right thing. I should have stopped him from getting the gun. So, I opened fire on him.”
“Of course you did,” Risa said. “Isn’t that in the training?”
A lot of people thought officers should shoot out knees or shoot the gun out of someone’s hand. It didn’t work that way. He figured as a firefighter, Risa knew enough cops to know that wasn’t anything cops—or anyone—could really do.
Ethan sighed. “If we’d been following protocol, we would have shot him the moment he started waving the gun around. We might have stopped him without killing him. The problem was,” and he hated this part, but he had to tell her, “he was mentally ill, and we knew it. We didn’t want to shoot him.”
He paused then, trying to get his heart back in one piece. “I killed this guy, and he was sick. He didn’t deserve it.” Ethan’s voice cracked every time he mentioned it. Baron Estevez was his personal cross to bear and would be until the day he died. “I shot him five times. I just cracked. But if we’d been following protocol, he wouldn’t have shot my partner. So I killed a man, and I let my partner get shot.”
He’d tipped up the last of the beer then and tried not to see Risa’s expression, but when he finally did, he found she was more sympathetic than angry. Instead of shutting up—as would be the reasonable thing to do—Ethan kept talking.
“We were there for his brother. We didn’t want him. His brother was running cocaine through the Miami pipeline.”
“The Miami pipeline?”
“Colombia through Cuba through Miami into much of the rest of the US. Or Colombia through Honduras to Miami and so on.” He mentioned a few other routes that they knew of. “Cocaine’s getting bigger in the US. People are less afraid of it. A lot of wealthy people want a nice high-end product for parties, that kind of thing.”
“So what happened to your partner?” Risa asked. “She’s okay, right?”
“She is. She’s fine. I mean, she had a cracked rib and all, but she healed up.”
“So where is she?” Risa asked.
“Still working in Florida…with a new partner. See, that’s the thing. I couldn’t have done everything right. I obviously didn’t because they packed me up and they sent me out here, where we don’t even have a branch office!” And that was another thing he shouldn’t have said.
Now, he looked out the car window, wishing he could take it back. He had not expressed his fears about being abandoned out here in Dark Falls to anyone before now. He wasn’t sure why he had told Risa except that the desire to do so had been hard to override. In fact, any wants regarding Risa Caldwell were getting harder and harder to override. It’s why he wasn’t looking at her.
Ethan was stuck in the three-way tug-of-war of wanting to tell her everything. And of wanting to impress her. Those two scenarios were entirely at odds. He’d told her a lot tonight and she hadn’t run screaming, but then again, it hadn’t been a date. The third side of the war was that he shouldn’t be doing either thing. She was a witness to a crime scene, he shouldn’t even be out with her.
He almost chuckled in the silence of the car. It wasn’t like there was another agent for miles around, though. He was in no-man’s-land, so who would see him if he did date Risa? Not that she would date him, because he’d just told her about Florida. His mind was running in circles. A few beers weren’t usually a problem, but the way his brain had been short-circuiting, maybe tonight they were.
His heart heavy, Ethan kept staring out the window while his mouth told her the rest of it. “The FBI got me out of the way. I think they stuck me here hoping I’ll quit. They aren’t throwing me other cases. Hell, I don’t even have a partner. I think they don’t want to fire me. But I can’t shake the feeling they’re trying to get me to resign.”
“You can’t quit!” Risa protested. “You’ve got a massive case on your hands, and they’re not sending you anyone as backup, are they?”
“No.” They weren’t sending backup, but he hadn’t yet given them the Janet Deevers info. So the bureau didn’t yet know it was actually a much bigger case than at first glance. In the end, he probably should resign. Either that, or they were finally going to have that nail they wanted for his coffin, with all the protocols he had broken with the beautiful woman sitting in the car with him.
“They didn’t tell you why they put you out here?” Risa asked. “Because clearly we need you. We’ve got a serial killer on our hands.”
There it was! They were talking about Kaylee again, about serial killers again. It was his fault. He was the one who’d brought the conversation back around to the thing he didn’t want to talk about. In fact, he had managed to talk about the other thing he didn’t want to talk about, either.
Two things. Two things he had on his very short list, and he managed to check them both off. So now, he stared out the window again as the streets went by, and he saw the familiar landmarks. They were headed back to Risa’s. For a moment, he’d forgotten they’d left from her place.
Her parking spot wasn’t as close to the front door of her building as he would have liked. In fact, the building didn’t even have a front door, only an open staircase that led up to four doors that faced each other, each opening into a separate unit. It wasn’t quite a street-side door, but it wasn’t an inside door either. It very much lacked the kind of protection he would have preferred.
Ethan told himself it was what he would want for any citizen of his town, but he wasn’t kidding himself very well. He wanted Risa—personally—safe.
He wanted to tell her all these things and more, but he hadn’t been speaking for most of the ride home. She’d taken the turns deftly, stopped at the lights, and accelerated coming out of the curves without a
sking him to participate. She’d let him have his stories and his silence, and now he was supposed to go back to his car and drive himself home. Only, he opened the door and stepped out, he felt the wind whoosh around him a little bit, and Risa laughed at him.
“You’re coming upstairs with me, big guy.”
He looked at her then, his heart surely in his eyes, wondering if maybe she meant something more.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Something warm shot through Ethan as Risa grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs to her apartment door.
He thought for a moment that he was a little unsteady on his feet, and maybe it wasn’t the beer or the stress of the day getting to him—maybe Risa was throwing him off his game.
Ethan should be the one helping Risa instead of the other way around. After all, she was in that boot. Then again, she didn’t seem to be having any trouble. Wasn’t this her job? And she seemed to be so good at it. He let her tug him along up the steps.
He’d wanted to ask her for her key so he could open the door for her. But without the crutches, he didn’t really have the excuse. So, he waited, but, once the door was open, he motioned her to let him go in first.
Jesus, he still had a gun on him, he thought as he stepped into the main room. He didn’t pull it out but still did his sweep. He parked Risa just inside the front door while he went through the entire apartment, looking for anything that might be disrupted, any signs anyone had come and gone while she had been out. He didn’t find any sign of an intruder. However, he did see the underwear laid out on top of her dresser, and it gave him ideas. She probably hadn’t meant for him to see that, but right now he didn’t care.
He’d headed back into the main room where she stood patiently waiting for him. She reached out and took his hand, and it happened all over again—the flood of feeling, the idea that this was where he belonged.
He didn’t know if he belonged with the bureau. He didn’t know if he belonged in Dark Falls. He knew for certain that he shouldn’t even feel this way, let alone act on it, but he wanted something good. And whatever else she was, Risa was that.
He looked at her then, his heart surely in his eyes, wondering if maybe she meant something more. There was something about her, and she’d told him that he was staying with her tonight. He was not protesting, so he stepped in close and leaned forward and put his mouth on hers.
The first touch was tentative. The second was much more certain as his arms tightened around her. Not only did he want her more than anything else now, he could feel her kissing him back.
His tongue traced the edge of her full lower lip, and she tasted of beer and the chocolate cake they’d split for dessert. She tasted of a future he couldn’t see, but he wanted. And she tasted like sex.
He breathed her in and kissed her as though this was everything he was worth. His whole body reacted to the feel of her pressed against him. Though his brain told him to take it slowly, everything else said go.
When at last they pulled back, she looked up at him, her eyes wide in what looked almost like surprise. But how could she be surprised? She was the one who’d told him he was staying over tonight.
He kissed her again, long and thorough, until he couldn’t breathe. As he pulled back for air, he sucked in just enough to whisper his hopes against her lips, “Bedroom?”
That was when he felt her entire body go stiff.
She was no longer kissing him back.
His own eyes snapped wide, and he was suddenly far more sober than he wished to be.
“I—” she stuttered, the word breaking off. “I—”
Oh, shit. The words bloomed in his head, an icy cold dousing every fiery cell in his body. “I’m sorry! You—” he paused. Had she really said that? Did he know? Had he simply made it up? “I thought you said I was staying over.”
She nodded slowly, and he realized at least, despite her stiff stance, her hands were still twined behind his neck. Maybe, he thought, just maybe, that was a good sign. Still, she stayed stiff as a board in his arms, and it clearly wasn’t going to be the night he’d thought it would.
“I meant,” she whispered, “that you aren’t safe to drive. I was going to give you the bed and take the couch.” The words came out haltingly as though they tumbled over roadblocks on their way out.
This time Ethan stepped back. He had to, it was the only way to clear his head and start thinking like a human being and not like a man about to get laid. Breaking the clasp of her hands, he removed his own hands from where they’d settled on her hips.
His hands had felt perfect there on either side of her. He’d felt his fingers clench into her flesh as they’d kissed. He’d pulled her closer, but he didn’t want to do anything he might regret. “I read that entirely wrong. I’m so sorry.”
There was a long pause, but Risa didn’t say anything. She didn’t tell him it was okay. She didn’t brush it off and say, “Oh, that was nothing,” which was a good thing because it would have shattered him to have her call that mind-blowing first kiss “nothing.”
When at last he found his voice, he looked to the side as though something fascinating sat on her couch. “I’m going to go home.”
She stepped deftly to one side as he made a move toward the door. He hadn’t expected her to be that quick, not with that boot on her foot, but she blocked him. “You can’t drive home. You’re not fully sober.”
Oh, he thought, I’m certainly sober enough now. Her telling him she meant for him to sleep it off on the couch had been a bucket of ice water. This whole situation had gotten far too embarrassing for him to stay. But then she looked up at him. “Ethan, I meant for one of us to sleep on the couch. I meant just that I didn’t want you driving after drinking. Even though I know you’ll probably be fine, probably isn’t good enough. But—” she paused, her voice gone breathy with whatever she was thinking, “you didn’t read anything wrong.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Risa’s emotions tumbled like laundry, thrown back and forth between two ideas: that she had truly intended to take the couch for the night and that she’d love to be in her bed with Ethan. When he’d kissed her like that, he’d put the idea on the table.
For a moment she’d even looked at the table, considering it as an option. Unfortunately, it was a cheap piece of crap and wouldn’t hold any weight without collapsing. She’d never resented her dining room table as much as she did right now.
Reaching out, she grabbed for his hand, taking several tries before she caught it…or before he let her. As he tried to tug out of her grip, she held onto him tightly.
Risa repeated her last words, “You didn’t read it wrong, Ethan.” Her heart was fluttering in her chest. She wanted this—this man, that touch, those kisses.
She sighed, and he misread that, too, once again trying to tug his hand away from hers, and once again she fought it. At least this time when he protested, it wasn’t quite as harsh, didn’t sound quite as anguished. But it did sound more resigned.
“I should go home,” he repeated, but Risa shook her head.
“You shouldn’t. You can’t. You’ve been drinking, and I can’t put you on the street. If I do, I’m responsible. So you’re staying here,” she said, the last word fluttering off the end of her tongue.
He had to stay here or else walk home. And it was too far to walk. Besides, she didn’t want him to go. After those kisses? No, she wasn’t letting him leave. She had to find a way to make him see.
When she couldn’t think of anything else to say to make him stay with her, she stepped forward into his arms again, laced her fingers behind his neck, and kissed him with everything she had.
His breath caught, she could feel it against her mouth and she pressed harder against him. It had been so long since she’d been with anyone and she couldn’t remember the last time someone made her feel like Ethan did. Ethan with his lush red hair. Ethan with his sharp sense of right and wrong. Ethan with that look in his eyes and that mouth that smiled just a li
ttle crooked, like she was the one catching him off guard. She was kissing that little smile away.
He was kissing her back. Ethan leaned in, his lips moving against hers, his sighs bordering on moans. His fingers dug into her hips and pulled her flush against him where she could feel exactly how much he wanted her. His mouth left hers, tracing a line up to the shell of her ear. He nipped at it lightly, then traced the curves with the tip of his tongue.
Risa felt her head tip back, her mouth falling open as though she couldn’t control herself. But she could. Her arms clung to him and didn’t let go. Her feet were planted and wouldn’t budge, but she couldn’t have formed a word to save her own life. She sucked in air and felt her chest move against his, and despite the clothing between them, Risa felt it to her core.
She was a goner.
She’d had a boyfriend here in Dark Falls—another firefighter from one of the stations on the other side of town. That relationship had been so bland that when it ended, it hadn’t even been awkward to run into him. It seemed she’d left every good relationship behind when she’d come here. She’d run from the bad ones, from the men who trained her who told her she wouldn’t make it. From the people who looked at her oddly because of her job. From the men—and some women, too—who would stand there with their houses on fire and insist that someone else come help them.
In fact, Risa wasn’t sure she’d felt anything with any real power behind it from the moment she entered Dark Falls, until maybe this moment. Now it was all flooding back. Her muscles clenched as Ethan’s mouth worked magic against her skin. Her eyes clouded, and the world glazed beyond her immediate vision. They were in her apartment, they were safe—Ethan had checked. And she was safe with him.
Her head was tipping as Ethan kissed his way around to her mouth again. His lips brushed hers lightly even as his fingers grabbed her and held onto her. Risa looked up at him, knowing everything she felt, everything she wanted, was shining in her eyes. She couldn’t help it. She’d never been very good at hiding her emotions, and now she wasn’t even trying.
Dark Echoes: (Dark Falls, CO Romantic Thriller Book 7) Page 9