But then he was easing her back on the bed, and she forgot about everything. He still wore his jeans, and she got the sense that he was enjoying the unfairness of it as she clutched his thigh between hers and moved restlessly.
His eyes glinted down at her. He leaned forward and kissed her, right beneath her ear, and she wondered when exactly he’d figured out that was her sensitive spot. His mouth glided down her neck, down her body, stopping to linger around her belly button. She propped herself up on her elbows and gazed down at him in the dimness, and her pulse quickened at the look of pure male admiration on his face. He slid his hands over her thighs, and she closed her eyes and tipped her head back. And when he had her squirming and moaning and gripping the sheet in her fists, he kissed his way back up her body and hovered over her.
“You are so hot,” he said thickly.
She pulled him down for a kiss and reached for the snap of his jeans. Finally, he got rid of them, and this time, when he sank down on her, she felt the electrifying friction of skin against skin. She was beyond talking. Beyond waiting. She wanted him now, but he seemed to be enjoying drawing it out. She combed her fingers into his hair and kissed him. And then their limbs were tangled together, and they were in some kind of intense race to the finish. He reared back, and she stared up at him, breathless and dizzy. She heard the tear of a condom wrapper, felt him moving around in the dark. Then he shifted her beneath him and roughly pushed inside her. She cried out, clutching him, but he seemed to know it was a good cry, because he kept going, setting a fierce pace. She clung to him, gripping him with every ounce of strength she had. She kissed him frantically, loving the hardness of his body and the dampness of his skin and the raw, relentless force of him. She felt filled to bursting with need and emotion. They were as close together as two people could possibly be, and the utter perfection of being joined with him was mind-blowing.
“Maddie.” His voice was hoarse, and she clutched him tighter. “Baby—”
“Yes.”
Everything fused in a white-hot burst of light, and then her body seemed to shatter into a million shimmering pieces as he gave a last powerful push.
He collapsed on top of her. She lay there, boneless. Little waves of pleasure rippled through her as the brilliant starburst faded to black. Seconds ticked by. Minutes.
When she opened her eyes again, she was staring at his neck. On impulse, she sank her teeth into it.
“Ouch.” He pushed himself up on his palms. “What was that?”
She smiled up at him. “You taste salty.”
He muttered something and flopped onto his back.
“What?” She propped herself up on an elbow and gazed down at him.
“Shit.” He let his arm fall over his face.
She smiled. Then she rolled onto her back and nestled her head against him. “Well, that’s romantic.”
Silence settled over them. She’d used the R word. Even in her hazy, blissful state, she realized it was a bad choice. She waited to see if he’d say anything.
But he didn’t say a word. He lay beside her, stroking her shoulder and staring up at the ceiling, and the steady thud of his heart against her ear was the only sound. She glided her hand over his chest and felt the texture of his hair under fingertips. His skin was still warm and damp from all the exertion. Hers, too, and it felt amazingly satisfying. She’d forgotten.
A few more minutes floated by. She lifted her head to look at him. His eyes were closed. She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest and confirmed that they were done arguing for the night.
CHAPTER 22
Emma was in a greenhouse, surrounded by butterflies. Her pigtails were tied with yellow bows, and she wore her favorite overalls with the T. rex on the pocket. Orange-and-black monarchs flitted in and out of the sunbeams and alighted on her outstretched arms.
Mommy, look!
Pretty, sweetie. Look at all your butterflies.
Emma smiled up at her, and Maddie’s heart convulsed.
They tickle!
That means they like you. Look, here’s another one!
Maddie stepped closer, yearning to scoop her up, to gather her in her arms and shower her face with kisses. But she knew if she moved to touch her, everything would vanish. She settled for smiling.
I miss you, sweetie. I miss you so much.
But Emma didn’t hear. She was entranced by the butterflies. She lifted a pudgy arm as yet another one landed on her skin.
Maddie drank in the sight of her—her springy curls, her dark lashes, her perfect little upturned nose. One of her bows was crooked, and she reached out to straighten it. Her fingertips brushed over the curls—just an instant, but it was enough.
No.
Maddie snatched her hand back, but it was too late, she knew it. No! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, but it was no use.
A heartbeat later, Emma was gone.
A faint buzzing noise pulled Maddie from sleep. Her head felt heavy, swollen, and she sensed the headache even before she opened her eyes.
Another buzz.
Brian’s phone, she realized. She glanced down at his arm slung over her waist. She felt the warmth of his thighs pressed against her bottom as she glanced over her shoulder to confirm that he was still out cold. Immensely relieved, she lifted his arm and slowly eased from the bed. She grabbed her robe from the floor and, still watching him, wrapped it around her shoulders.
She squinted at the meager sunlight that filtered through the shade in the bathroom as she brushed her teeth and splashed water on her face. She shuffled into the kitchen and spied the overnight bag on the floor. The phone was silent now, but she doubted it would remain that way for long.
Maddie reached for the coffee pot, embracing a few more moments of distraction before reality rolled in like a thunderhead. She counted out coffee scoops, doubling her usual amount because she had company, not to mention a punishing headache. She turned on the faucet and filled the carafe.
Another muffled buzz.
She sighed with resignation and flipped on the coffee maker.
“ ’Morning.”
She turned around. “Good morning.”
Brian leaned a shoulder against the door frame and crossed his arms over his bare chest. His gaze settled on her.
“You’re popular today,” she said.
With a quick glance, she took in his jeans and bare feet. He looked solid and sleepy and not nearly as rested as she would have expected, given the way he’d crashed so hard in her bed.
He was watching her intently, and she started to worry. Maybe he hadn’t crashed hard. Maybe he was a light sleeper and knew exactly what a tumultuous night she’d had.
The buzzing started up again. He crouched down beside his bag, and she tried not to admire the ripple of muscles in his arms and shoulders as he rummaged for his phone. He checked the screen and stood up.
“I have to take this,” he said gruffly.
“Sure.”
He disappeared into the back of the house, and the coffeemaker beeped at her. She took down a pair of mugs and filled them. She held the cup in her hands as she let the rich aroma perk up her senses, and she considered the best way to handle things.
When he came back in, he was wearing the gray T-shirt he’d had on when she first went to bed last night. He crossed the kitchen and reached over her to open a cabinet.
“I poured you coffee.”
“I need water.” He set a glass on the counter and paused to look at her. She saw something in his eyes again. Worry? Wariness? Before she could pin it down, he surprised her by cupping his hand against the side of her face and planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head.
The gesture was so tender, so intimate, she was taken aback.
His hand dropped away, and he reached for the faucet. “How’s your arm today?”
“Fine.”
But she could tell he didn’t believe her, as he leaned back against the sink and swilled wat
er.
“A little sore,” she admitted.
He drained the glass and set it down. He glanced at her robe but didn’t look at all put off by it as his gaze zeroed in on her bandage.
“I’ve got to go in this morning.” He crossed the kitchen and pulled a pizza box from the fridge. “Want some of this?”
“No, thanks.”
So far, this was all pretty normal. Maybe it was going to go better than she’d thought. Maybe they could focus on logistics and sidestep the relationship discussion she’d been dreading for days.
“I have to go in this morning, too,” she said.
He shot her a disapproving look as he picked up a slice and folded it in half. “It’s Sunday.”
“You’re working Sunday,” she pointed out.
He chomped into the pizza, frowning at her as he chewed.
“I’m meeting Ben,” she added, hoping to quell his disapproval.
But the worry line between his brows deepened. He finished off the slice in a few more bites and dusted off his hands.
“You’re working on the case,” he stated.
“It’s the facial-recognition software I told you about. We may have a new lead.”
He shook his head and looked away.
“What?”
“It ever occur to you to let law enforcement take care of things?”
She crossed her arms. “Letting the police ‘take care of things’ hasn’t worked out that well for me in the past.”
“You’re becoming obsessed.”
“No, I’m not.”
“This isn’t about Emma.”
The words were like a slap. She stared at him. People didn’t talk about Emma. Most people wouldn’t even say her name in Maddie’s presence.
She cleared her throat. “I’m aware of that, obviously. I care about all of my cases. If I can do something to help Jolene Murphy, I will. If I can do something to help anyone.”
His jaw tightened. He had something he wanted to get off his chest, and she instinctively knew she didn’t want to hear it.
“I may be gone tonight, too,” he said.
“Okay.”
“I’m on surveillance at Mladovic’s. I couldn’t get out of it.”
“Why should you?”
He watched her, searching her face. “LeBlanc has the late shift. You okay with that?”
She could tell it would do no good to argue, so she simply shrugged. “If you all feel it’s necessary—”
“We do. But things are starting to come together. We’re hoping to have an arrest warrant soon, maybe as early as today.”
Her stomach clenched. “There’s been a break?”
“Yes.”
“Jolene—”
“Still missing. This is something else.” His gaze held hers, and she felt as if he was searching for some reaction. He wasn’t going to tell her the rest of it, and she hadn’t really expected him to. Ever since the shooting, he’d been stingy with information, as if by not giving her any, he could erase her involvement.
He stepped closer, and her pulse picked up. She was conscious of his height and his solid strength as he gazed down at her.
“These guys are going to fall like dominoes, Maddie. And when that happens, things will settle down. Everything won’t be so difficult.”
“You mean for you?”
“For us.”
Us. She felt the briefest flicker of hope, but then it was replaced by nerves. She couldn’t let him keep pushing this.
He rested his hand at the side of her neck. “After this case ends, I want to try to make this work.”
Maddie’s heart skittered. She wanted to say something, but everything she could think of seemed wrong.
“Brian . . .”
His gaze stayed on hers, and she felt her stomach twisting into knots.
“I’m sorry. I like you very much. I do. But this is impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because . . . of a lot of reasons. Our ages, our jobs, our backgrounds. Because of what people would say.”
He let his hand drop away, and she felt her familiar frustration rising to the surface. He’d never even tried to see this from her perspective. “What would they say?”
“You’re younger than I am. So people would gossip about me and say I’m just with you for sex. They’d say I’m using you for revenge against my philandering ex-husband.”
“So?”
“So? Brian, I hate being gossiped about. It’s insulting to both of us.”
“Maddie, who cares what anyone says or thinks? We both know the truth.”
She stood there uncomfortably. What truth? That this wasn’t about sex—at least, not completely? That she cared about this man? That in the impossibly short span of a few weeks, she’d managed to fall for him? It was crazy. She was crazy. And it was reckless, too, because there was no future in it, and she needed to make him see that.
“Brian.” She took a deep breath and looked him squarely in the eye. Her heart was racing now, and she could feel the panic creeping in as the conversation got more and more out of control. “I have to tell you, even if the other stuff wasn’t an issue, I don’t want a relationship. Not with anyone. It isn’t about you.”
Something flared in his eyes, and she could tell she’d struck a nerve.
He leaned back against the counter. “You travel light now, is that it? No baggage? Now that your daughter’s gone, you’re just head down”—he cut through the air with his hand—“straight to the finish line.”
“Don’t be glib.”
“I’m being honest.”
“So am I,” she said.
“No, you’re not. You’re being a coward.”
Fury bubbled up. “I’m trying to have an open conversation and save us both a lot of trouble.”
“Fine. Let’s be open, then. Isn’t this about Emma?”
“No!”
He stared at her with those hazel eyes, and it felt like he could see straight into her soul. He stepped closer and looked down at her.
“Maddie, come on.” His gaze softened. “You think I don’t see how torn up you are? You think I don’t know that you’re working yourself to death and that you cry in your sleep and can’t stand to look at little kids?”
Maddie’s skin went cold. She felt sick. “You have no right to judge me.”
“I’m not judging you.” His held her gaze and touched her neck again. “Just listen, okay? I know you’re scared. I know that.”
“I’m not scared.”
He just watched her, and she realized it was pointless to argue. So she was scared. Fine. But her relationship fear wasn’t the only problem here. Why couldn’t he see that?
“Brian, look.” She stepped away from him. “You’re a good man. And you seem traditional. Don’t you want a family someday? A wife and kids?”
He didn’t react at all, didn’t even blink.
“You don’t have to answer that, because I know you do. It’s in your DNA. I don’t want those things anymore. And I’m sorry. I care about you, I really do. But that’s why I’m telling you this now. I can’t give you want you want. I can’t give you anything but . . .” She motioned back and forth between them.
“Sex.”
“Yes.”
“So you’re offering me just sex?” He smiled now, but there was no humor in it. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Because don’t think I won’t take you up on it. I will.” He shook his head, and she saw something in his eyes that looked like resignation. “I’m crazy about you, Maddie. I’ll take anything you’ll give me.”
Her throat tightened at his words, at the utterly honest look on his face. His pride was on the line here. And he was standing here basically tossing it away, just for a chance to be with her and not even have a relationship. How had she lowered him to this?
And she felt a sharp pang of guilt, because what he was saying actually sounded tempting.
But it also sounded terrible. If she agreed to it, she w
ould be the one who ended up with her heart shredded at the end of everything.
“Brian—”
A rap on the door had them both turning around. Brian’s hand was instantly on the pistol she hadn’t even noticed tucked beneath his shirt. He nudged the blinds aside.
“It’s Sam.” He turned to look at her. “I have to go.”
She nodded.
“Hicks is on his way. Do not leave without him. Don’t go anywhere.” He stepped closer. “Are we clear?”
She nodded. She was clear on that. It was everything else that had her completely lost.
CHAPTER 23
“You look like shit.” Sam smiled at him over the roof of the Taurus. “Long night?”
Brian didn’t answer. He slid into the car and rattled off directions he’d been given over the phone a few minutes ago. Brian saw his replacement pulling up, right on time, but his relief was short-lived as he thought about Maddie’s plans for the day. Why couldn’t she spend her Sunday lazing around, like most people? He knew the underlying reason, but knowing didn’t make him feel better.
Sam turned out of the neighborhood and shot him a look. “So who’s this guy we’re meeting? And let me tell you, this better be good, because I skipped my coffee to haul ass over here.”
“Name’s Scott Black. He’s the firearms expert at the Delphi Center.”
“You met him before?”
“Up ahead on the left, after the gas station.” He glanced at Sam. “A few times, yeah. From what I’ve seen, he’s good. Maddie vouches for him.”
Sam pulled into the Taco Bell parking lot and swung into a space. Brian spotted the pickup.
“Black F-150,” he said, getting out.
The man was already crossing the lot. He wore jeans and boots and had a holster tucked under his jacket. Brian made quick introductions.
“I ran across a gun you’re looking for,” Black said without preamble.
“Where?” Brian asked.
“Pawn shop off I-35.”
“You just ‘ran across’ it?” Sam sounded skeptical.
“This was off a tip. It’s an Ed Brown Kobra pistol. A forty-five.”
“Nice gun,” Brian said.
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