by C. A. Szarek
And not like he was going to bring it up in case they hadn’t noticed what was so obvious to Jared. He and his brother had the same strong jaw line. Same high cheekbones. Their noses were different but that made them look like the brothers they were, instead of twins.
“Joe?” His second call still went unanswered.
“In here!”
Jared set his keys and the food down on the kitchen counter and headed toward his brother’s deep voice.
He found Joe in the master bedroom, doing push-ups. His brother wore a pair of Jared’s light gray sweats and a ribbed tank. The cotton was a darker color in spots and even from the doorway, he could see the shirt looked like Joe had pulled it out of the washing machine.
Soaked.
Sweat—like he’d been at it for hours.
More of a punishment than a workout.
What’s that about?
“I grabbed dinner. You hungry?”
Joe popped up off the floor and their eyes locked. “I could eat.”
“Good deal.”
“Lemme shower.”
Jared nodded and turned to go.
“J-man.”
He glanced over his shoulder in time to see Joe’s small smile. “Yeah?”
“Thanks, man.”
A nod was all he could manage.
Even as a kid, Joe had always been the strong, silent type, but there was more to it now than just being like the quiet teen who’d kept to himself.
He certainly didn’t scream demanding crime boss, but Joe wore what’d happened to him like a veil—even if he hadn’t said shit. It made Jared’s gut ache. He’d want to help any guy in his brother’s sitch, but since it was so close to home, it was worse. Didn’t matter he hadn’t seen Joe in years.
Blood was blood and Jared had to fix this.
No pressure. That was what his brother needed.
He busied himself with grabbing plates and setting the table.
“Mom would be proud of my manners.” He smirked.
Jared grabbed the straws from the brown paper bag, stabbing them in their Styrofoam cup lids. Tried not to fidget while he waited. Made himself take a seat so he wouldn’t give in to the urge to pace.
A few minutes later, Joe came down the hall wearing a pair of Jared’s jeans and a plain black tee that clung to his pecs. He’d shaved and Jared caught a whiff of his own aftershave.
Joe wore a thick silver or white gold chain around his neck. A fat cross hung from it.
He’d never noticed it before, but Joe had been wearing it while doing pushups, too. They’d never really been the religious types, even as kids. Even when several pairs of foster parents had dragged them to one church or another.
Wonder what that means?
Who gave it to him?
They didn’t talk as they ate.
Jared’s heart thundered harder with each passing moment, but he forced his attention on savoring the heart-attack-on-a-bun in his hands.
It tasted damn good.
The bacon McAuley’s put on a burger was exquisite.
“I didn’t kill anyone.”
He paused, making eye contact with his brother, but Joe looked away, reaching for his drink. Jared stared as Joe sucked dark cola up the straw.
“I know.”
His brother’s broad shoulders loosened and he let out an audible breath. Joe’s mouth wobbled and he clenched his jaw as if the emotion was too much to handle.
He’d told his brother Jared knew he was innocent, but this was the first time Joe had confirmed or denied.
No pressure, Jared repeated in his head.
He needed info, but it was okay if it was on Joe’s terms.
“Just like that?” Joe’s voice was low.
“Yeah. I told you that before. You’re my brother, man. Not a killer.”
Joe closed his eyes. “I might not have pulled the trigger, but I’m responsible for two deaths. Three, if you count John.”
Jared dug for all the professionalism he could manage. Tried to pretend he wasn’t sitting with his brother. He needed to treat Joe like any other witness. Needed to be sharp as he absorbed everything. And damn straight needed to remember it. Something told him his brother would clam up if he grabbed a notebook.
“Tell me what happened,” he said, dropping his voice like Joe had.
“It’s my fault she’s dead.”
“She? Brandelyn Willis?”
His brother’s eyes snapped to his face. “Yeah. Moose, too. My fault.”
Joe wasn’t the kind of guy to buy it’s not your fault as a manner of comfort, so Jared didn’t bother. “Was Carter Bennett the shooter?”
All he got was a nod, but it was still an answer. Joe didn’t look the least bit surprised Jared had asked, either.
“Was he alone?”
Silence descended and Jared didn’t think his brother was going to say another word. His big shoulders hunched as he leaned into the table, his burger forgotten. His jaw was tight and emotion flickered across his face.
A good two minutes passed before Joe met his eyes again. “Yeah.”
“You shoot at him?”
“Yeah. Moose did, too.”
“Someone hit him. We found blood in the kitchen that didn’t match Brandelyn Willis or Michael Gentile. You’re not hit, so I’m drawing a conclusion here.”
One corner of Joe’s mouth shot up. “How elementary of you, dear Detective.”
Jared grinned. “I so didn’t see you as a Sherlock kinda guy.”
His brother let out a low chuckle and shook his head. “It wasn’t really me. It was her. She liked that new show, you know? The one with the girl Watson?”
“Ah. Never watched, but I know what you’re talking about. You cared about her, huh?”
Undisguised pain made its way across Joe’s expression. He nodded and his Adam’s apple bobbed. His brother broke eye contact and cleared his throat.
Jared let him regain his composure. He might’ve talked a little but they were far from done. He had so many questions, but he let them spin in his head.
Joe wasn’t ready for any kind of police onslaught.
“I’m glad I hit the fucker. I didn’t know, ’cause he didn’t go down. But you gotta find him, little brother. He can’t die. Gotta get him before he dies.”
Jared pitched forward as every word his brother uttered picked up speed. “Joe?”
“Carter Bennett killed John Murray.”
Chapter Nineteen
Val kept looking around, and she wasn’t checking out guys.
“What’s got you so jumpy?” Mel tried not to snap.
Blue eyes went wide when they met her gaze and Mel’s bullcrap meter lit up even before her best friend—possibly former best friend, depending on the answer—spoke.
“Nothing. Lotsa scenery around here. Hot. Single. Guys.”
Mel narrowed her eyes and scooted to the edge of the chair. “Right.”
The round table held up to eight people, but no one was seated with them in the big conference room.
The Antioch City Center had just opened a few months before. It was multifunctional—snazzy with giant flat-screen TVs posted in every corner, and still so new the scent of fresh paint wafted. The tables and chairs were top-of-the-line, too.
A projector flashed pictures of events past and testimonials of Friends First’s awesomeness on all the screens.
Currently, Christmas was draped all over the place. Lavish decorated trees in the center of the room as well as smaller versions in all four corners. Boxes wrapped like gifts in bright printed paper as centerpieces on the tables, and cheery seasonal music filled the air.
The banner announcing ‘Friends First Fifth Annual Christmas Mixer’ dominated the front of the large room.
Mel had always loved Christmas, but the atmosphere was a bit much.
Val flashed a million-watt smile. “I’m gonna go flirt. That’s what we’re here for, right? I might as well snag me one. Maybe I can get a cop.” Her
voice cracked on the last word and alarm bells went off in Mel’s head. However, her friend was up and off the chair in two seconds flat.
Mel looked around, frantically scanning the crowd.
People were everywhere, forming small groups, talking, eating, drinking and laughing. Some couples had formed and broken off, sitting at tables or in many sets of two chairs put together to encourage conversion with an air of privacy.
The scent of smoked ham from the buffet tables tickled her nose. Should’ve appealed, but her stomach was in knots.
She’d come here to check out Friends First and possibly meet someone.
Yeah, someone other than Hot Cop.
Mel couldn’t stop thinking about Jared.
Geesh, she didn’t waste any time.
Her eye caught Val talking to some tall-dark-and-handsome, looking slender and gorgeous in her Christmas-red skirt and matching top. The skirt was tight and stopped at her knees, showing off her killer legs. Her hair was up, accentuating her slender neck, and Val’s sweater hugged her breasts. She laughed at something the guy said, suddenly even more beautiful.
God, she glows.
Mel groaned and fought the urge to cover her face with both hands.
What the heck was I thinking?
Val was right when she said I’d lost it.
Putting herself out there to the opposite sex had never been her ideal. She’d always been awkward at best. In high school, David had pursued her, after all.
Like Jared.
No.
David and Jared weren’t even in the same universe.
Her ex had been safe—at the time. Jared certainly wasn’t. Would never be safe.
She blew out a breath and tried to smile when a cute redheaded guy caught her eye and threw her a nod-and-smile combo.
Don’t come over here. Don’t come over here.
He turned toward her as if he was going to come straight for her.
Mel shot to her feet and slipped behind a group of four singles, praying she’d blend into the crowd.
When she thought she’d lost him, she blew out a breath. Her throat was dry. A soda was a must.
Halfway to the drinks table, Mel stumbled. Almost fell on her face, actually.
Stupid heels.
She needed to stop borrowing Val’s outrageous shoes. These were red Louboutins. It was a wonder her best friend had trusted her with them, after the debacle with the purple ones.
Then again, Val had told her she’d get her shoe back—eventually. Her stupid smile had been smug, too. Alarm bells should’ve gone off then.
Mel’s trip had nothing to do with Jared standing by the buffet, speaking to a petite slender blonde. She groaned.
Val called Jared—
“Are you all right?” A male voice jolted her, and she glanced into a pair of green eyes.
The redheaded guy had a hand on her forearm, trying to steady her, but his touch unsettled.
Besides, Mel couldn’t concentrate on her would-be-savior.
Jared? Here?
She was going to kill her so-called best friend.
“I am, thanks.” Mel forced her eyes to stay locked on his face. She refused to look over her shoulder. He’d been facing her direction when she’d tripped but maybe—just maybe—Jared hadn’t noticed.
Not with my usual luck.
Red was cuter up close, freckles strewn across the bridge of his nose. He had a dimple in one cheek when he smiled. “Good. I was afraid you’d fall.” His fingers slipped away and his eyes raked her frame.
Right. He saw you, clumsy.
Embarrassment washed over her and Mel tried not to squirm in the red dress. It was a darker color than Val’s, but in general, red had always been too flashy for her. It had pretty silver embroidery along the sleeves, waist and hemline, but it wasn’t her normal sensible style.
Her best friend had insisted she buy it the other day when they’d gone shopping. Citing, of course, the low cut neckline and how much cleavage Mel would have in it.
Why on earth had she listened?
The guy’s gaze had been appreciative, but it just made her feel naked.
Her cheeks burned all the way up to her ears. Mel forced a laugh. “I’m good. Clumsy is one of my attributes.”
He laughed. It was a pleasant sound and made her relax.
“I’m Pat.” Red shoved his hand out for a shake and Mel loosened her shoulders.
She reached for his hand and smiled. “Mel. Thanks for the rescue.”
“Anytime.” He winked, and she found herself grinning.
“There you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Jared’s voice shot a tremor down her spine, and Mel jumped.
“Jared.”
But he wasn’t looking at her. Pat took a step back when Jared moved forward, putting himself between them. “Thanks for helping my girl.”
Mel huffed and stomped her foot, but Pat accepted Jared’s intentionally shoulder-jarring handshake.
Not only had the detective seen her trip, now he was acting possessive?
Damn him.
She was torn between wanting the floor to open her up to swallow her whole and the anger that crept up from her belly.
“Oh,” Pat said, before Mel could assure him she was not Jared’s girl.
Jared slipped his arm around her and pinned her to his side. His smile was easy, he looked genuinely grateful, but the threat in his eyes was obvious.
Her blood boiled.
Pat threw her an apologetic shrug and fled.
Mel elbowed Jared in the side, threw his arm off her and whirled on him. She glared, ignoring the oomph of air that slipped from his lips. “You scared him off! He was a perfectly nice guy!”
His dark eyes were intense, but he rubbed his side.
Good, hope it hurts.
“I am a perfectly nice guy.”
She perched her hands on her hips and glared harder. “Generally that’s something you show, not tell.”
Jared stepped closer, invading her personal space. He snagged an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I will. If you let me.”
Mel wiggled, but he was too strong. She was aware of every inch of her body touching his. She lit up from the inside out. “Dang it, Jared.” The whisper fell from her lips.
“Just give me a real chance, Mel.”
“I’m going to kill Val.”
“Don’t kill her. She did us both a favor.”
She arched an eyebrow. He’d not bothered denying Val was the reason he was at the party. Should that make her feel better or worse? “How?”
“She wants you to be happy. Besides, she saved me from an assault charge later. Plus, my dad being mad at me. That guy’s with the Fire Department. Pretty sure he’s on my dad’s shift.” His voice was serious, but he shrugged. However, he didn’t loosen his hold on her.
Mel rolled her eyes.
“I don’t want to see you with someone else.”
She stared into his eyes. His sincerity burned through her. Her heart skipped.
He means what he’s saying.
Why?
“Jared—”
“You can’t judge me without being with me first, Mel.”
“I was with you.”
“There’s more to life than sex.”
Mel blinked when he flung her words back at her. “Let me go.” The order was weak, and they both knew it. Her eyes skimmed his handsome face and she commanded her gaze away from his full mouth. Tried to banish the memories—the feeling—of his lips moving over hers. If she asked Jared to kiss her, he would.
“Promise me you’ll go out with me.”
“No.”
“Mel.” Her name was a plea.
Her stomach somersaulted. “How about we start with today? Now…” The words slipping out surprised her, but the slow sexy smile spreading across his lips made her heart skip.
“We are at a party,” Jared said.
“Right.”
He loosened his arms,
but he didn’t release her. Jared dipped his head down to brush her mouth with his. It was the barest of touches, but her belly warmed and she clutched his forearms.
Mel’s head whirled as desire made her dizzy, but he stepped back before she could yell at him for kissing her.
Or worse, crush her mouth into his for a real kiss.
How could that little smooch affect her like this?
Jared took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “You won’t be disappointed.”
That’s what I’m afraid of.
Jared stared into the pale blue eyes that had haunted his dreams. He’d begged her, but he wasn’t the least bit ashamed.
She’d agreed to give him a shot.
Well, hang with him at the Christmas party in the very least. It wasn’t his idea of a date, but it was a start.
God, she was gorgeous. The tiny kiss hadn’t been nearly enough. But he needed to calm down, and cool off. Somehow keep his hands to himself so she couldn’t accuse him of wanting her only for her body.
Her dark red dress was loose but flowed around her when she walked. It had silver swirls sewn in at the neck, on one billowy sleeve and hem. The shape only hinted at her covered beauty. The design of the silver threading curled around her waist, hugging her perfect curves.
Made him burn for her.
He wanted to grab her up and hide her from all the male eyes in the damn room. Especially that stupid firefighter.
Jared’s heart had dropped to his stomach when he’d seen her almost fall. Then Big Red had put his hands on her.
Hell. No.
Jealousy had boiled up and he’d rushed over to them. Glared this one’s mine, get your own at the guy.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Mel barked.
He snapped to attention and met her eyes. “Like what?”
“Like I’m naked.” Her cheeks went pink and Jared’s smile slid into a grin.
He dipped low, his mouth millimeters from hers. Ignored her sharp intake of breath. “I won’t forget that. Ever.”
She smacked his chest. “You’re going to make me change my mind. Don’t you have something to go detect?”
Jared straightened and laughed. “I’m off today.” Errr, he was taking time off. He’d pay Carrigan back later. More likely, he owed Lucas one for giving up his first Saturday back from New York. God knew Carrigan couldn’t take a day off. She’d pushed until Cole agreed to work on the case with her.