She breathed in again and then said, “I think I just want to go back to the motel.”
Lips brushed against her temple again, and then a quiet “Okay” from Seth. He moved again, sliding out from the booth entirely this time. Maya went to follow after him, but she couldn’t make her body cooperate. She felt stiff, jerky, every muscle still tensed. Seth didn’t say anything, but just picked up her bag along with his jacket and then entwined one arm with hers, grasping her elbow and gently pulling her forward, lifting her off the seat. Once she stopped wobbling enough to stay upright, he dropped some bills on the table and then put his arm around her waist again, guiding her back to the car. God, she was making a habit of this. Her cheeks heated. Seth’s arm around her felt warm, further shifting the block of ice that seemed to have taken up residence inside her, but at the same time it was so damn embarrassing. She was strong, independent, in the last few months even more so. She had to be. And now here she was, needing Seth’s help to just make it to the damn car twice in one day! At least this time she could open the door herself. She slid inside the pickup, taking her bag from Seth with a small smile. He returned it and then shut the door before walking around to his side.
“So straight back to the motel?” She nodded. “Want me to stick around for a bit? We can just kick back, if you want, watch a movie.” He shifted the truck into gear and then reached across, lacing his fingers with hers.
“I’d like that.” The shock of his pronouncement was starting to ebb, and with the feeling of his warm skin directly against hers, Maya found herself wanting more again. More of what they’d had in the library. She had no idea if was a good or bad thing that she was recovering from the shock faster than she had when they’d finally proven Jesse hadn’t set the fire, but she was going to take it anyway.
She was going to have to give herself a break and stop having a mental breakdown every time they found out something crucial about the case. It felt like she’d been pushing for so damn long, and now she was finally getting results. But if Liam’s warnings about who they were up against were even slightly accurate, this was only going to get worse before it finally got better. She needed to stay the course and know that she wouldn’t go to pieces the next time something happened. Yes, she was doing this for Jesse, but she had to face facts. He was gone, dead. She couldn’t keep going if all she was going to do was put herself in a dangerous position or end up in a mental hospital. This was for Jesse, but it was also for her, so she could go back to remembering him in happier times. She couldn’t do that if she sacrificed herself for it. Besides, Jesse would have been furious.
She smiled, watching Monroe pass by her window again. Who was she kidding? Jesse would have told her to leave the entire thing alone the moment the first notion of taking on his case as her own had entered her mind. He was her big brother, her protector. But she hadn’t listened to him when he tried to talk her out of dating Barry Morrow, and so why should she listen to him now? Yeah, the guy had been a total jerk, no matter how good-looking he was, and kissed like a wet frog, but she’d had to figure that out on her own. This was the same. Jesse could be standing right next to her, and she’d still insist on doing it. He protected Maya her whole life—it was her turn to return the favor.
It didn’t matter that they’d teased each other mercilessly; if anyone else dared say a bad word about her, or heaven forbid, chase her around the playground for a kiss, then Jesse had been there, defending her honor. There had been more than one vigorous wedgie given in her name. He’d taught her how to stand up for herself, but he was always there for her when she fell down; both for skinned knees and broken hearts.
Then suddenly, he’d been old and he was allowed to stay up late and watch all the cool stuff on TV. Bum fluff mustaches gave way to football games and hot friends. Friends that wouldn’t come within ten feet of her after Jesse had threatened anyone who dared even look her way. He hadn’t cared about their age difference; he was taking no chances with his little sister. A small chuckle escaped her. She’d gotten her own back by teasing him about his name at every opportunity. He got particularly irritated when she called “Jessica!” across the house.
Seth glanced over at her, smiling at the grin she could feel stretched over her face. “What’s so funny?”
“You have any older siblings?”
He grinned back. “Ahh. Four older sisters, I’m afraid. But they put me through enough torture growing up that I can guess what’s got you smiling again.”
Oh, this ought to be good. “Like?”
He shook his head. “Let’s just say I’ve worn makeup more than one time—in public. But I got them back. I put worms in their underwear drawer.”
Oh, God. Maya put her hand against her stomach as a snort escaped her.
“Jesse was good to me when we were older, but when we were kids, oh, God. I learned quickly to stand as far away from him as possible when we were drying the dishes. He was extra skilled at snapping a wet tea towel.”
Seth laughed. “I’ll have to remember that one next time Matt insists on cooking. You do not want to drop by for breakfast that day.”
Maya’s heart quickened. Was that a general statement or an invitation? He wanted her to stop by the firehouse? What the hell—if Jesse really had been by her side still, he’d tell her to go for it. He seemed to have finally gotten over the idea of scaring away all men when she was twenty and moved to the “If you hurt her, I hurt you” shtick. He would have liked Seth. “You want me to drop by for breakfast?”
Seth’s hand rested on the gear shift, inches from hers, and he threw her another grin. “Any damn day you want, Gorgeous. Just if Matt’s cooking, bring breakfast with you.”
They were still swapping stories and chuckling when they pulled up to the motel parking lot. Maya looked out the window, frowning. “That’s weird.”
Seth was instantly alert. “What’s weird?”
She pointed out the window. “That car.” A black sedan sat in the parking lot, across from her room. Last time she’d seen the car, it had been parked near the entrance to the lot, even partially blocking the exit to the highway. Now it had moved, right across from her door. Maya had no doubt it was the same car. She turned to face Seth. “I’ve seen it here before, when you picked me up my second day in town and we went to the diner.”
“And you’re sure it’s the same car?”
She nodded. “Positive, and it hasn’t been here in between those times, either.” She froze. The note! She’d seen the car the morning after she’d found that damn piece of paper shoved under her door.
Seth’s eyes narrowed and he turned in his seat, looking like he was about to drag her across the console and into his lap. “Maya? What’s going on?”
She took a deep breath. “That night, there was a note.” She swallowed, looking away from Seth’s eyes. He looked like he was about to go murder whoever was driving the BMW.
“Tell me everything. Right now.”
She shrugged, forcing herself to rein in her emotions before she got too upset and Seth did something stupid. The chief had offered him to help her, but she didn’t think Alex Stone had any idea how deep Seth had already gone. If he managed to get himself arrested for punching someone out in a parking lot, then that’d be the end of any official assistance. Not that it would matter. She’d never forgive herself if anything happened to Seth. Who knew who was in that car, or what they had on them? Georgia had licensed concealed and open-carry laws. Anyone could be carrying, and she would have no way of knowing until it was too late.
“Maya?”
She had to tell him. Before he climbed out of the vehicle and did exactly what her overactive imagination had already pictured. “That night, after we looked at the judge’s house. When I got back to the motel, there was a note shoved under the door. It told me to back off. That if I knew what was good for me, I’d leave town that day.
Seth stilled, moving nothing except his shoulders. They lifted and then dropped noticeably as he s
ucked in a breath. His hands moved fast, throwing the car back into gear and twisting the wheel, almost spinning the back wheels as he drove out of the parking lot.
“Seth!”
“You’re not staying there a minute longer.”
What? All her stuff was back there. “I don’t have any other clothes with me, or my toiletries.”
He looked over, slowing only slightly now they were back on the highway and out of view of the motel. “I don’t care. I’ve got stuff you can borrow. We’re going to make a report to the police, then you’re staying at my house.” He looked over at her. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”
20
Maya
Maya stood in the doorway of Seth’s apartment. Seth had walked her to the door and unlocked it, pushing it open for her, and then gestured her inside before returning to his pickup to grab their stuff. The police hadn’t been any help, unsurprisingly. The front-desk cop, and then the detective they’d spoken to had both been sympathetic, but that was about it. They’d taken the note, promising to check it out for fingerprints, but also told her the fact she’d been carrying it around in her bag for three days had probably compromised anything beyond use. That she’d been in and out of her motel room multiple times since then didn’t help, either. Add that the note had been slid under a very publicly accessible motel-room door, and well, they had nothing. She’d been dismissed with a comment to keep her wits about her and a mention to call them sooner next time, if anything should show up again. She’d mumbled thanks and then glared daggers at the detective’s back the entire way out the precinct door.
At least she’d kept her wits about her this time. The more Maya delved into Jesse’s case, the more she was developing a strong dislike for anyone in authority. That was unfair, she supposed, but she wasn’t feeling particularly gracious lately. The firefighters were an exception. She trusted Seth unwaveringly. In fact, standing in the open door of his apartment and staring into his inner sanctum, what she could feel for him if she gave herself the chance was becoming blindingly obvious, too.
Seth’s apartment doorway opened straight into the living room. The place was on the small side, but tidy, the living room giving way to an open-plan layout. The only rooms she couldn’t see from where she stood were the bathroom and the bedroom. Maya closed her hands into fists, digging the nails into her palms before her thoughts could run away with her. She could think of about a million things she could do with Seth in the bedroom and bathroom, and after that kiss in the library that morning, she had a feeling that he’d be very, very good at all of them.
A shudder went through her and she gripped the wooden door frame. The outside of the building was off-white with a gray trim, and the insides matched. Practical blinds hung from the window. The room itself was decorated in sensible, neutral colors. The only thing that gave the apartment away as a man cave was the gigantic couch in the middle of the room. Plush and so comfortable it looked like you could sink into it and disappear, it was complete with recliners and was dwarfed only by the insanely massive flat-screen TV on the wall. A DVD player and two game consoles sat on a shelf below it, their wires dangling onto the floor. Maya grinned. She liked that. Seth might be neat, but there was still a little bit of imperfection, a little bit of realism in his home.
Crap. She was in his home. This was the place he went after every shift to kick back and unwind. Somewhere private, where he could always be himself, and he’d invited her here.
Seth’s reappearance from the car broke her train of thought. He stood behind her at the door, waving an arm forward. “After you.” Maya stepped into the room. He probably thought she was a complete idiot, still standing there on the doorstep minutes after he’d unlocked the door.
“Nice place,” she said, wincing. Surely she could come up with something better than small talk.
He smiled. “Thanks.” He moved through the room, placing her things down on one end of the giant couch. “I’ve only lived here a few months. The guys helped me moved in. That”—he pointed to the monster TV—“was their house-warming present.”
She grinned. That sounded exactly like she imagined the guys were like. She’d met some of them only briefly at Meg’s barbecue, but the good-natured ribbing and camaraderie between them was obvious. A large red artwork hanging by the kitchen partition drew her eye. It was followed by another splash of red against the oven door, a dish towel, and an also bright red kettle and toaster sat on the counter top. “And those”—he gestured toward the splashes of color—“were from Sloane, Meg, and Amy. I was told there was no way they were letting me move into an apartment that had been decorated solely by the male species.”
The look on his face was so comical that she couldn’t help but laugh. He pouted, looking fake-wounded. She laughed again. “So let me get this straight. They refused to let a bunch of firefighters decorate the apartment, but they chose bright red as your accent color?”
Seth snorted, moving into the kitchen. “That was either an inside joke between them or a dare. I haven’t figured out which yet.” He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. “Drink? Or would you like something stronger?”
What the hell, it was late enough in the day. “Got any wine in there?”
He reached back into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of crisp Moscato, her favorite and extremely welcome at the end of the kind of day they’d had. If Seth wasn’t careful, he was going to turn into the perfect man. He bent down to a lower cupboard, giving Maya a great view of his ass, and scooped up two glasses. He poured them both and then handed one to her, clinking them together.
“To a peaceful, enjoyable evening.”
Fuck. She’d definitely drink to that. She took a sip of her wine, the crisp taste exploding in her mouth. Another sip followed that as she wandered over to the couch, its softness calling her. Maybe she was getting used to the insanity, but she didn’t feel out of herself, or even angry or stressed at the police’s apathy regarding the note. Instead, she felt almost relieved. It didn’t make sense even as she pondered it over another mouthful of wine, a larger gulp this time, but it was what it was. It was nice to know where she stood. Those who should be responsible for what happened to her brother—the FBI—had closed ranks, and she’d probably gotten a bit of a “reputation” at the police station back home after her several outbursts there in the early days after Jesse’s death. She’d known for a long time, really, that she was alone in this. In the beginning, it had felt like David against Goliath. How was she ever going to get the powers that be to even listen to her, let alone give her what she needed to prove Jesse’s innocence? But then Seth had come along, and going against the powers that be wasn’t so scary anymore.
Maya sank into the couch, allowing it to suck her in. The surface was covered in some sort of lightly brushed fabric and was so soft she’d happily stay there for the rest of the week. She took another gulp of wine, wondering what Seth would think of her camping out on his sofa for the foreseeable future. She glanced around the room. She couldn’t see anything other than a hallway leading off the side of the kitchen, but down there somewhere was a place she’d much rather be spending her nights in with Seth.
At the thought, the gulp of wine turned into a choking hazard and she leaned forward, coughing. Shit, should she take another drink to calm her throat or would that lead to her keeling over on Seth’s living room floor? She looked over at the now-half-empty glass. If she kept that up, she’d be on the floor for another reason altogether.
The man himself appeared, tapping her between the shoulder blades as she spluttered. “You okay?” he asked.
Maya swallowed, trying to get rid of the infernal itching in the back of her throat. “Dandy,” she croaked. “But I could do with a glass of water. Please?”
“On it.” Seth stood and she took advantage of the open plan layout to watch his ass again as he sauntered back into the kitchen. She sunk back into the couch. Yeah, she could take a load off here.
&nb
sp; Seth returned with a bottle of water, a bag of potato chips, and a large package of chocolate-chip cookies. He passed her the water and then ripped open the bag of chips. “Sorry about the lack of selection. I don’t, uh, eat here much.” He passed her the bag and Maya grabbed a handful. Her nerves had settled from the freak out from the diner and the sight of the crispy fried goodness had reminded her stomach it hadn’t eaten much at all for the entire day. Seth grinned at the sound. “I have plenty of takeout menus at my fingertips, though. I’d never let you starve.” She unscrewed her bottle of water and took a sip, savoring the long, cool draught of the liquid. Seth unwrapped the cookies and then sat next to her. Maya glanced over. If she angled her thigh just so . . .
“Are you okay with what we found out this morning?” Seth said, breaking the moment entirely. Damn him. He turned to her, the concern back in his eyes. “I’m happy to answer any questions you have.” He paused, taking a breath. “You can talk to me about anything, Maya. I hope you know that.”
Okay, so maybe he wasn’t unaffected by everything. She took another sip of the water, gazing longingly back to the half-empty wine glass. It was better to have this conversation on a clear head, definitely, but getting just drunk enough to lose the self-control that was currently stopping her from climbing the couch and ripping Seth’s clothes off would be nice too.
Silence. He waited, looking at her expectantly.
Maya took a long breath. If she was honest, the whole situation was itching at her, despite her promise to herself to ignore it. Maybe if they talked it out, she could get back to wine drinking and ass staring. Here went nothing.
Trial by Fire (Southern Heat Book 4) Page 11