Off the Grid for Love

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Off the Grid for Love Page 13

by Rena Koontz


  “Don’t shut me out of your life, sugar.”

  She sighed and shook her head slowly. “What do you want from me, Jake?”

  He locked on to her dark-brown eyes, widely innocent and questioning. His heart pounded. This was a make-or-break moment so he chose his words carefully, holding her gaze as he softly repeated her question.

  “What do I want from you? I want to be inside you. Not just between your legs as your lover. In your heart and in your head. I want to be the voice in your ear and the taste in your mouth. The last face you see before you close your eyes at night and the first thought on your mind in the morning.”

  She stared at him wide-eyed. “You say that and yet you can’t tell me the truth.”

  “Stating it like that implies that I lied to you, honey, and I never have.”

  “That’s just semantics. You know what I mean.”

  “It’s where we find ourselves at the moment, sugar.”

  Five seconds of silence. Ten seconds. A stand-off.

  Mackenna’s shoulders sagged. “I’m on a precipice, Jake. My whole world is upended. I’m about to fall off the edge and out of nowhere you appear to save me. But I don’t know anything about you. I don’t know where or how you fit into my life and you won’t talk to me. Why can’t you be honest?”

  He stepped toward her, his pulse racing. Slowly, he lifted his hands to her arms and then eased her into his embrace. “I won’t let you fall, Kenna.”

  Her hands settled on his waist and he kissed the top of her head, inhaling the coconut scent from her shampoo.

  “I promise, sugar, I won’t hurt you and I won’t let you get hurt.”

  She leaned into him, her body conforming to his, her arms wrapping around him. They fit together so perfectly. Didn’t that count for something? “Just trust me a little longer. Don’t ask me questions I can’t answer right now.”

  With her face against his shoulder, she mumbled, “Are you sure you’re not hiding a wife somewhere?”

  “That answer is the same honest answer. No, I’m not married.” He hugged her tighter. “But I’m not free anymore. I’m a puppet and you could control all the strings if you allow me the chance to win your heart and be a part of your life.”

  She raised her face to his and his heart splintered at the tears that edged her eyes. “Will you please answer just one question?”

  Could he? Did he dare? Silently, his whole life teetering on that precipice she feared, he waited.

  Her voice cracked. “Are you a bad guy?”

  The breath he held released slowly. So many ways to interpret that question. But the answer remained the same for all of them. He lowered his mouth to hers as he spoke.

  “No, ma’am. I’m one of the good guys.”

  His lips touched hers and he detected the slightest tremor. Soft and full. Different from the kisses she’d delivered in her drunken performance, when she’d pressed her lips to his mouth, forceful and demanding. Now, she hesitated. He thirsted for this mouth, for every inch of this woman. And so he drank.

  He raised his hands to her face and kissed her harder, his tongue touching her lips until she willingly opened her mouth, and then he plunged into paradise. The kiss exploded between them. Her hands clung to his biceps while he devoured her mouth, interchanging short, playful pecks with lustful, long dips into heaven. Somehow, Mackenna McElroy crawled through the portal that was his mouth and saturated his whole body, taking sweet possession of his heart and soul. Her kisses not only gave him life, they sucked it right out of him.

  Her body tensed when he leaned against her, essentially pinning her to the counter. Immediately, he released her face and drew back.

  “I didn’t mean to press you. I’m sorry if I scared you. I would never force you to have sex with me.” His arms glided down hers and he took both her hands in his and squeezed.

  Desire raged through him, making him grin like a teenager about to get laid for the first time. “I can’t pretend I don’t want to make love to you, sugar. But I’m not pushing. I’ll wait until you’re ready. Just don’t add me to the men-you-hate list.”

  She swallowed and cast her eyes downward. “Jake, I . . .”

  “Relax, Kenna. No strings, remember?” He stepped backward in a gesture meant to give her space, even though he desperately wanted strings with this woman. He wanted to tie her to him in every way possible. The room was charged with electricity so he took another step back.

  “You said you needed my help with something. Was that a ruse to lure me here or do you need a good ol’ boy for a chore?”

  Mackenna’s eyes sparkled. “Some of your sayings make me laugh. Yes, you can help me. I filed two police reports yesterday. One against Ted Gleaner and one against Arthur. The officer asked for a detailed list of everything missing. I tried to tell him my entire apartment and my identity are all gone, but he couldn’t comprehend that. He said he needs specifics. I thought we could go from room to room and I could recite everything I had in each room and you could record it. Plus, you can help me remember things I don’t list.”

  He shrugged, confused. “I’ve never been in your apartment before Arthur cleaned you out. How can I help you with that?”

  Mackenna presented her back to him as she searched her purse. “Well, the truth is I think you’re the law so you can use your cop brain to help me think it through.” She swung around, grinning, with a pen and the legal pad in her hand. “Ready?”

  Chapter 14

  As they moved through each room, Mackenna’s spirits dragged like a boat anchor caught in the sand. It was one thing to stand in an empty kitchen and see nothing. But to close her eyes and describe the décor, down to the cutest knickknack, or to open each cupboard and recall the bowls, dishes, pots, and pans that once cluttered the bare shelves, redefined the word ‘everything’ into an itemized list of losts. Sentimental objects, like her mother’s crystal stemware, and cherished gadgets like the mini-chopper she used daily and the singing bottle opener that never failed to make her smile were all gone.

  By the time she and Jake walked into the bedroom, the task overpowered her. She suppressed a sob when she eyed the neatly piled stacks of clothes against the wall, which once filled her dresser drawers.

  Sensing her despair, Jake moved behind her and squeezed her shoulders. “Do you want to take a break?”

  He was a stranger and yet so in tune with her emotions, an up to her down, the smile for her frown. Like salt and pepper. Or peanut butter and jelly. One didn’t work as well without the other. Well, considering they’d shared a bed in their underwear, the word stranger didn’t truly apply either. But she knew so little about him and still, his hands on her shoulders and his breath in her ear comforted her. She leaned back, inviting him to wrap his arms around her and he did. He excited her, with his face next to hers and their cheeks touching, and she clung to his muscular forearms.

  “Somehow writing everything down makes it so much more invasive. The bastard stripped me of it all.”

  Jake tightened his hold. “It’s just stuff, honey. I know it was important to you and it will be costly to replace all of it but he didn’t strip you of anything. You’re an incredibly strong, intelligent woman. He didn’t touch that. You’re beautiful, warm, loving, and sexy as hell. None of that’s gone.”

  Once again, he knew exactly what to say to lift her up. She shivered at his nearness and a nervous laughed escaped her. “You’re only saying that because you want in my pants.” She eased her head to one side, presenting her neck to him and when he kissed it, tingles of desire shimmied into her chest.

  With his lips on her skin, he murmured, “Well, I can’t deny that. But you’re all that and more. That’s the truth.”

  She tilted her head up and he stopped immediately. There was no doubt about his respect for her. She stepped out
of his embrace. “I’m not ready to take that step, Jake. Too much has happened.”

  “It’s okay, Kenna.”

  She spun around to face him. “I’m not talking about sex. Hell, I’m ready to jump into bed with you right now. Fortunately, there’s no bed in this room. I meant I’m not ready for a new relationship. I’m quite comfortable in your arms and, yes, I have to admit for all the mystery surrounding you, I trust you. But I think I should spend some time alone, for myself. When you and I”—she paused—“if you and I go down that road together I want to be the woman I used to be, confident, independent and yes, desirable. I need to reinvent myself. I . . .”

  He lifted his hands, fingers spread wide, and interrupted her. “I understand, sugar, and it’s not a big deal. Don’t think for one minute you’re not desirable but I want us to be friends first. Would I like more? Yes. Anything beyond friendship will be a bonus, like extra innings. Do you like baseball?”

  He had such a quirky way about him, it made her laugh. “Yes, I like most sports.”

  “Good. Someday we’ll go to a game together. How about we finish this missing-items list and go out for dinner. My treat. We can discuss our favorite teams and even place a friendly wager.” He moved his head from side to side. “This place isn’t healthy for you. I have an idea I’d like to run by you but standing in this empty apartment is not the proper setting to present it.”

  She nodded. The rooms were becoming hateful. In less than an hour, the inventory was complete. Locking the door behind her, she conceded it was a relief to be out of there. Once outside, they discovered a light rain falling, and Jake frowned.

  “I’m on the bike and I only have rain gear for me. Would you mind if we took your car?” She handed him her keys and led the way to the tenant parking lot adjacent to the building.

  Jake opened the passenger door for her and then squeezed into the driver’s seat, releasing a breath once the seat rolled back and the steering wheel no longer compressed his diaphragm. She giggled at the sight. His long legs stretched to the pedals and she recalled those muscles flex when he rose from his bed wearing only boxer briefs. Her thighs tightened together as she snapped her seatbelt closed. No denying a physical attraction to the man.

  “Why is it I feel so comfortable with you and I hardly know you?” She’d hadn’t meant to verbalize her thoughts. Still, Jake grinned like a Lottery winner and winked at her.

  “Kismet?”

  When she laughed, he beamed.

  “You have a great laugh. It’s like fine bourbon. It warms me from top to toe and makes me want another taste. Do you have any place special you like to eat?”

  Her stomach somersaulted. “Not really. Arthur favored a Mexican restaurant around the corner that I hated. The glasses always looked dirty and the food gave me heartburn. We went there regularly, though, I think because the waitresses all wore low-cut, off-the-shoulder tops and I’m certain enormous breasts are a pre-requisite for working there.”

  Jake smiled at her description. “If you don’t mind my asking, how come you stayed with a loser like Arthur for as long as you did?”

  She shrugged. “I believe in loyalty, I guess.”

  Thirty minutes later, Jake steered the car into a crowded parking lot. “How about here? I know for a fact the glasses and silverware are clean and they have a good selection of gluten-free items.”

  She caught her breath. “I don’t remember telling you I’m gluten sensitive.”

  He shut off the ignition and grinned. “You didn’t, honey. I figured it out.”

  Before he stepped out of the car, she grabbed his forearm, one eyebrow arched. “You mean like a cop trained in investigative techniques might figure it out?”

  The grin faltered but only for a second. “Nah, more like a man with a younger sister who has Celiac’s.” He winked again and butterflies invaded her stomach. “Nice try, though.”

  Once they were seated and ordered, she leaned back in her chair. The restaurant was new to her, and not that far from her apartment, and she wondered why she and Arthur never tried it. Jake made her laugh when he used his napkin to wipe her silverware and held their water glasses up to the light for inspection.

  “I think you’re making fun of me.”

  The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “No, ma’am. Just trying to please you.”

  It’d been so long since someone ranked her interests first, she didn’t know what to say. Her cheeks heated at the attention, and she searched for a change of topic.

  “How was your day?” Maybe his answer would provide a clue about what he did.

  The question didn’t appear to faze him. “Today was a paperwork day. Not my favorite thing to do. How about you?”

  “It was okay. Everyone is still buzzing about the police escorting Mr. Gleaner out of the building. Nothing more has surfaced about that. I filed a report with HR but that feels like it backfired.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “HR said they would launch an investigation and in the meantime, I’m being transferred to another bank branch. This one is out of Mr. Gleaner’s supervision so he can’t show up there. But it means a longer drive for me to a part of town I’m unfamiliar with and a different clientele. So it feels like I’m the one being reprimanded.”

  Jake shook his head. “That doesn’t sound fair. But at least it keeps you out of his clutches. If you need a driver, I’d be happy to ride you to and from work, kind of like your personal bodyguard.” He flashed a quick smile and a jolt of current shot through her.

  “I can’t ask you to do that. You work nights and come home to sleep. I’m at the bank before the doors open.”

  He shrugged. “I told you my hours are flexible. If you want my escort, I’ll make it work.”

  That made no sense. A job was a job and its hours were likely stipulated. But she was too tired mentally to dissect it further.

  “Thanks for the offer but it’s not necessary. I’m working on finding that independent woman again, remember? You mentioned an idea you wanted to run by me. What’s that about?”

  Jake nodded and sat up straighter, as if he were about to negotiate a business deal. “I don’t think you should stay in that apartment any longer. It’s full of negative energy and I hate to think of you spending long, lonely hours there without so much as a TV to watch or a sofa to sit on while you read a book. I can’t imagine how you do it.”

  Her stomach clenched. What did he propose? She halted his words with a raised hand. “Hold up, Jake. I admit, I’m starting to like you but if you’re about to suggest I move in with you, please don’t. You always say no strings attached and I’d like to hold you to that.”

  He responded fast enough to startle her. “Jesus, Kenna, I think you’re the one who is the cop. You’re suspicious of anything I say, as if I have an ulterior motive for everything. Your King Arthur screwed with your head and it makes me feel like I’m banging mine against a brick wall.” His words rushed out angrily and she jerked back. And then he smiled and the color of his eyes darkened. “I’m glad to hear you’re starting to like me, though. And for the record, my intentions are honorably dishonorable.”

  He was contagious, like being in the company of a laughing baby that brings joy. An automatic smile creased her face and lightheartedness surged through her. Being with Jake was fun.

  “It’s only a smidge of a like so don’t push it.” Now, his grin matched hers but guilt over her reaction surfaced. “I apologize for jumping to conclusions. I will try in the future not to compare you to the rest of the despicable male species. Finish what you were saying.”

  His smile disappeared. “And I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m sorry.” He leaned back and shrugged. “My proposition could be misconstrued as moving in with me. At least I hope your boss will see it that way. There are several furnished ap
artments currently vacant in my building, some of them owned by businessmen who sublet on a monthly basis at a lower rent rate rather than let the units sit empty. I think it would be a good idea for you to move into one of them so you’d at least have furniture to sit on, actual dishes to eat off of, and a decent bed to sleep in.”

  He spread his hands out, palms up. “And if I’m being truthful, the idea of you living closer to me is damn appealing. So”—he raised and lowered his eyebrows in Groucho Marx fashion—“I might have ulterior motives.”

  Again she laughed. He wasn’t like any man she knew, secretive and yet so open. He barely knew her but his concern felt genuine. She’d sensed that the first day he spoke to her in the coffee shop. Unfortunately, he didn’t grasp the depth of her financial plight.

  “I’m not opposed to the idea of leaving that empty apartment, Jake, but I can’t afford to move. I have no money for a deposit or even for one month’s rent. I’ve been eating corn chips for lunch from the vending machine at work and refilling my bottles from the water cooler. I’m afraid the machine will take my last dollar tomorrow. I already owe Sandy money. She loaned me some that day you saw me under the gazebo. You buying me this meal is a real treat, one I can’t return. I can offer to cook you dinner. I’m a good cook. But you’d have to buy the groceries. I’m the closest thing to destitute you’ll ever meet.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Jake studied her as she spoke, analyzing her body language, assessing her facial expressions for signs of deception, employing his FBI training as if she were a suspect. Not a hint of fraud. Full eye contact, steady hands, and honest, if not sad, facial expressions. Demond had shown him the printout of her bank account. The balance exceeded two thousand dollars. Snack foods from a vending machine? Either she staged one hell of a con or . . . or what? How did that thought finish?

 

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