Quickly, Jonathon turned. He took a step forward and drew Octavia into his arms. The move sent another ripple through Octavia, and the warm kisses he pressed against her face heated her blood.
“I called you,” he said. As if that were all the explanation he needed to give.
“I went out for a run,” Octavia returned. Being in his arms did a number to her nervous system. She pulled back just slightly, but Jonathon held on.
He met her face to face. “You needed to run this early?”
Octavia fumbled with her words. “I-um… had to- yeah.” Octavia shook herself more, freeing herself from his grasp. Starting over, she reiterated, “Yes, I needed to take a run.” She smiled. “Is that why you’re here?”
Jonathon pushed his hands into his pockets. It was apparent that Octavia didn’t want to be touched, or she wouldn’t have moved away from him.
“I told you, if you didn’t answer your phone, I would come over here.”
“But as you know, it’s early. What makes you think I wasn’t just sleeping?”
“I know this is not a good season for you, so I didn’t plan to take any chances.”
Octavia smiled softly. “Chances on what, Jonathon?”
“You shouldn’t be alone,” he cut in.
Octavia warmed more, then reached her hand out to him. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
Jonathon accepted her proffered hand, and their fingers fit snugly together. “I thought you only took the Rolls Royce out for special occasions.”
Octavia opened the door, and they entered.
“I didn’t think about it before I left. I just drove right over. You left your door unlocked?”
Octavia looked up at him. “Yeah, my neighborhood’s safe. I do it all the time.”
Jonathon glared. “What do you mean, you do it all the time? As in every time you leave the house?”
“No silly, when I go out for my morning runs and sometimes at night when I go to bed.”
“Have you lost your mind? That’s dangerous, O.”
Octavia chuckled. “That’s why I never told you because I knew you would trip.”
“Damn right I would, and all your other friends would, too.”
“No,” Octavia said. “Just you.”
“And how do you figure that?”
“Because it’s a part of who you are.” Octavia tugged his hand and turned to walk toward the kitchen. “Would you like coffee?” When Jonathon didn’t respond, Octavia turned back to him. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to tell you something. I want you to be open about it.”
Octavia rubbed her arms at the sudden chills that fell across her skin.
“O-kay… what is it?”
Again, Jonathon reached for Octavia and pulled her close. Looking into his dark brown eyes, Octavia held her breath, but movement at the front door caught both of their attention. Possessively, Jonathon straightened and pulled Octavia behind his back. Instinctively, his hand went to his side to grip his gun. With eyes lowered, Jonathon walked to the door just as someone knocked fiercely.
“State your claim,” Jonathon barked, pulling the door open.
“Chicago Police Department.”
Chapter Two
Jonathon opened the door and stepped onto the front porch followed by Octavia.
“What’s going on?” Octavia asked.
The officer held up a picture of a young African American teenage girl. Braces sat along her teeth that were on wide presentation as she smiled. Octavia and Jonathon looked down at the picture.
“This is Ayana Bradwell. She is sixteen and has been missing for two days.”
Octavia gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Mrs. Monroe’s granddaughter?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m afraid so.”
“Oh no, no, no,” Octavia said. Jonathon slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to his side.
Mrs. Monroe was the only senior woman on the block. All of the neighbors looked after her, checking in from time to time to see if there was anything Mrs. Monroe needed. Her granddaughter had been in her custody, but Octavia wasn’t sure why. Octavia had only met the young girl on a few occasions, seeing her walk to and from the school bus during times Octavia was flying out of her apartment, late for work.
“Let me know what I can do,” Jonathon said.
“Well,” the hefty officer said, “we’ve put together a search team, and we could use as many people as possible. As you know, the first few hours and days are the most critical.”
Dread settled inside Octavia. In an instant, she was hit with the memory of her parents’ death. The blaring squeal of the tires, the force of the collision, her father’s name coming out her mouth in a high-pitched scream. Octavia had reached for her father before she passed out, and the vivid images she saw now had never been so clear.
Feeling her trembling beside him, Jonathon looked down at Octavia. “O, you okay?” He turned to face her fully and caught her just as she came out of her trance.
“Um, I’m fine,” Octavia said.
Jonathon glanced to her noticeably shaky hand. “O, what’s going on?”
Octavia looked away from his invasive stare. “Nothing, I’m okay.” She smiled up at Jonathon then adverted her eyes to the officer.
Picking up where their conversation left off, Octavia tried to shift everyone’s focus. “Let us know what we can both do to help,” she said, keenly aware of Jonathon’s sharp penetrating stare that still lingered on her.
“The men in blue, along with the ninth district firefighters, and volunteers will be searching in shifts. If you’re willing to open up your home, we could use your house as a breaking point for our people to grab water, a quick bite to eat, and use your amenities.”
“Say no more. I’d love to help.”
The officer removed a clipboard he had tucked underneath his large arm. “Great, I’ll write you down as a stop on the list. I just need you to sign this paper.” The officer gave Octavia the clipboard and ink pen. “This is stating you agree to allow your property to be used in the search and rescue of Ayana Bradwell.”
Octavia signed her name on the form and handed it back to the officer.
“Could you use more men, officer?” Jonathon asked, returning his attention to the conversation.
“Of course. We could always use extra bodies.”
Jonathon reached out to shake the officer’s hand. “Let me make a phone call. Where should the men sign up?”
“When they arrive, they can meet me at one of these stations.” The officer reached in his top pocket and pulled out a card along with a piece of paper from his clipboard outlining other houses that were temporary stations for the search party. “Call me on this line when they’re ready to sign in, and I’ll give them an area. Do you have any idea how many men will be able to help us out?”
Jonathon pulled his wrist forward and checked the time. “The most I could get you in the next few hours would be about two hundred, maybe two-fifty.”
The officer’s eyes grew. As if recognition set in, the officer held his finger out at Jonathon and pointed with wide eyes. “You own that private security firm, don’t you?”
“Rose Security Group,” Jonathon confirmed.
The officer reached out to shake Jonathon’s hand with more appreciation this time around. “We at the Chicago Police Department thank you, son, for helping out. I’ve heard good things about your group. Chicago PD could use a good firm like you on payroll,” the officer gushed.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Jonathon offered.
“Good, good,” the officer cajoled. “Well, I’ll let you two get to it and make my rounds down the street. You’ve got my number,” he said to Jonathon. Turning to Octavia, the officer dipped his head. “Ma’am.”
They watched him leave, and smoothly Octavia moved out of Jonathon’s arms. She was halfway in the door when he called out to her.
“Octavia.”
Turning back to him, Octavia leaned into t
he doorjamb.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Questionably, she responded, “Of course, I did. Why wouldn’t I want to help?”
“There’s nothing wrong with helping, but you still have to be careful. You don’t know the people who will be in and out of your house. For all we know, the person responsible could be among them.”
That sent a shiver down her spine.
“I don’t mean to scare you, but it’s the truth.”
Octavia rubbed her lips together. “Well it’s too late now, so if you’re that worried about me, get me some security.”
Jonathon pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number. Octavia reached for his empty hand and pulled him inside. He shut the door with a shoulder and paced behind her to the kitchen.
“Have a seat, and I’ll fix you some coffee.”
Jonathon rested on a stool as Octavia made her way around the medium sized kitchenette. Pulling a mug from the cabinet, Octavia shuffled to the machine and powered on her Nespresso coffeemaker. It was the same appliance they used at work, and Octavia was certain it was made with magic as it could whip up cappuccino that tasted like pure bliss. While the Nespresso brewed a fresh batch of coffee, Octavia strolled to the refrigerator and pulled out eggs, bacon, and pancake batter.
She listened as Jonathon’s smooth voice spoke into the phone, giving instructions to a crew of his men that would help with the search for Ayana Bradwell. He lifted a brow as he watched Octavia pull out skillets, glassware, plates, and utensils. When she shuffled past him again, Jonathon circled his arm around her waist, catching her like a spring when she bounced off of him. Octavia turned full circle with a smile.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Octavia glanced around her kitchen.
“I’m preparing to have a house full of people. And if you’re hanging around, you might want to pull your car into my garage.”
“You’re right, but do you need me to make a run to the store for you?”
“Hmm,” Octavia reopened the refrigerator, “I guess I will need more food.”
Jonathon rose from his seat. “I’ll be back.” He stepped closer to her. “Don’t let anyone in until I return.”
Octavia smirked. “Is that an order, Lieutenant?”
A charming smile grew on his lips. “Yes, it is, and do you know what happens if you disobey a direct order?”
Without warning, Octavia was covered in a torrent of heat, and she fought against the urge to tilt up on her toes and kiss his smooth lips. Mistakenly her eyes dropped to his mouth, and Jonathon noticed. He moved in even closer, and Octavia slipped her hands against his chest. The movement was meant to halt Jonathon’s advancement, but the friction of heat that sizzled against her palms after touching him was daunting. She had a notion to grip his collar and pull his lips to hers. But she chickened out, turning her head away to pretend something else had caught her attention.
“So, a few cartons of eggs, bacon, grits, oatmeal, orange juice, water, I’m out of strawberries, too. Get some strawberries.” Octavia turned back to face him.
“Strawberries, huh?”
Jonathon’s all-pervading gaze stirred her when their eyes met again.
“Yeah, you know they’re my midnight snack.”
Jonathon ran his tongue across his teeth. “Girl, you’re gonna fix all that food and have them men outside sleep against a tree.”
Octavia balked at his implication. “Are you saying I’m trying to give them the itis?”
“I’m going to the store to grab some water, bagels, and crème cheese. All this other food you’ve taken out put it back up. The sheriff never expected you to turn this place into the International House of Pancakes.”
Octavia twisted her lips.
“What is a crème cheese bagel going to do for those grown men and women?”
“Let’s make a deal,” Jonathon relented. “I’ll go get crème cheese, bagels, water, orange juice, and strawberries. You can make your famous fruit bowl and sit out samples along with the bagels.”
Octavia smiled. “Am I allowed to add a dash of whip crème topping to the fruit bowl?” Her eyes were wide.
“No,” Jonathon said in a straightforward tone. “The whip crème topping is for me only.” He went on to mumble. “Give a little inch, and you take a mile…”
Octavia laughed and pushed his shoulder. “Shut up.”
Jonathon leaned into her and kissed her forehead. “Don’t let anyone in until I return,” he reiterated.
“Scouts honor,” Octavia said.
“You actually have to be a scout for that to mean something,” Jonathon responded.
“Oh.” Octavia shrugged. “I just always wanted to say that.”
Jonathon chuckled and kissed her face again before turning to leave. When Octavia was alone, she went to her bedroom and removed her clothes to take a quick shower. Her weekend of rest was over before it began. Even with the flurry of to-dos, Octavia’s thoughts were never far from Jonathon. He made her feel so special when they were together, and while most women would love to be with a man like him, Octavia worried that if she couldn’t face her parents’ death, she would end up pushing Jonathon away.
Chapter Three
By the time Jonathon returned, Octavia had cooked up a small meal just for them. The door was open, and Jonathon walked through the screen.
“It’s me, O,” he called.
Rounding to the kitchen, a smile spread across his nicely groomed face.
“This better be for me,” he said, standing over a plate full of food. Jonathon reached for a utensil and brought a stack of scrambled eggs to his mouth.
“Who else would it be for?” Octavia said. “Oh wait, there is that guy I’m dating, so I could have cooked for him.”
Jonathon dropped the fork, and it clanged against the plate loudly. “I thought you got rid of that loser.” His voice was just below a rumble.
“Not exactly,” Octavia teased.
Jonathon just stared at her.
“Oh, come on, he wasn’t that bad,” Octavia said, keeping it going.
“He’s a womanizer, Octavia. You can’t be seriously considering dating him after the way he treated you.”
Octavia bit down on her lips. Steven Matthews was someone she met out while doing some casual shopping a few months ago. He seemed harmless enough. But after going out on a few dates, Octavia noticed how he would ogle women when they walked by. It was disgusting, and she’d surmised that he was a pig.
“I’m just kidding. I would never go out with a guy like that.”
Jonathon seemed to relax, picking his fork back up to continue eating.
“You didn’t say grace,” Octavia said.
With a mouth full of food, Jonathon responded, “Grace.”
Octavia’s mouth fell open. “No, you didn’t.”
Jonathon swallowed and laughed. “Now, I’m just messing with you.” He tugged her ear.
“That’s no fair.” Octavia crossed her arms.
“I’d say it’s fair game.”
Octavia pushed his firm shoulders, but she didn’t move him.
“Whatever,” she mumbled. “By the way, Steven did apologize for the way he acted. I just never told you.”
Jonathon dropped his fork again. “O, are you trying to make me lose my appetite? Is that what you want?”
Octavia giggled. “I’ll just give your plate to the first one through the door then. I’m sure whoever it is would love to have it.”
“Digging the knife deeper, I see,” Jonathon responded. “Go ahead, see if you can break the blade off as you cut.”
Octavia’s eyes grew. “Don’t say that. You know I’m just messing around.”
Jonathon watched her for a long time. “Are you considering going out with him again?”
She reached out and rubbed his shoulders up and down. “If I start dating again, you’ll be the first one to know. I’ll need you to check out his background and stuff a
nyway. That’s what you like to do, right?”
Frustration seeped from Jonathon. “You can’t date him,” he said firmly.
Octavia’s brows rose, and she re-crossed her arms.
“Excuse me?”
“You said you would never go out with a guy like him.”
“I wouldn’t, but there’s nothing wrong with us being friends. Or, having a sociable outing every now and then. A girl gets lonely sometimes.”
Jonathon’s eyes darkened. “I’m your friend.” He pulled her into his space. “If you need to go out, we can go together.”
“That’s really sweet of you, but…”
“But what?”
But you’re the reason I need to get out with someone different. Because you’re always on my mind. Because I find myself depending on your comfort. Because I might be falling…
Octavia forced her train of thought to reverse. “You are not always available, Mr. Rose.” Octavia fumbled with his collar, and her fingers uncharacteristically skipped down his throat. Jonathon’s eyes closed then reopened as a trail of warmth followed the path of her fingers.
“Anytime you need me, I’ll make time.”
Octavia balked. “You can’t say that. Your business is too demanding. Your clients are high-profile. What would they think if you just up and left because your lonely best friend calls craving popcorn and a sociable night out?”
“If I told you the number of former military, police officers, security agents, and other former aristocrat men who are on my payroll, you wouldn’t even form your lips to say what you just insisted.”
“Wow, that’s interesting. So why do you go out then? It sounds like you could kick back and relax while your men do the work for you.”
Jonathon shrugged. “I could, but some clients prefer me to be in attendance. And…” his words lingered as he watched her, “I don’t have a reason to take a load off and kick back as you say.” He hovered there, waiting for Octavia to give him a reason.
Octavia’s jaw locked. She reminded herself that she wasn’t ready, mentally, for anything serious with him. Her spontaneous dates were just that. Octavia had been floating from date to date for years. She’d gotten into a rhythm, and for her, it worked. Anything serious just reminded Octavia of her inability to deal with her parents’ death, and for now, Octavia would continue to shove everything into that jewelry box.
A Lifetime With You (Falling For A Rose Book 5) Page 2