“Gini? Gini, you there?”
“Jonah,” Gini rasped.
“You should get that.” Patrick ran a hand through his hair and scratched at his neck where Gini’s hands had been. “He might need something.”
“Maybe I need something,” Gini mumbled.
She got up from the swing, and Patrick grabbed their ice cream bowls. He followed her into the house and went to the kitchen while she grabbed the phone.
“Yes, Jonah?” She took the phone into the living room where she didn’t have to look at Patrick standing before the sink, legs spread apart, head bent, ass calling out to be touched.
“Ma said you and Patrick were investigating the barn at Meadow Cliff?” Jonah’s voice sounded tired.
“Yes.” Gini sat on the couch and studied her bare feet.
“I need to talk to Patrick. I tried his cell, but he didn’t answer. Do you know where he is now?”
“Yes.” Gini chewed on her bottom lip. What was she going to tell Jonah? She never kept any secrets from him. Ever.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” Jonah was so in tune with her emotions. As if he were psychically linked to her or something. Came in handy most of the time. Not tonight. Tonight she didn’t want her brother to have any clue about what she was feeling, what she wanted so desperately to do.
“Are you angry? Did Patrick piss you off? Do you need me to—”
“No, Jonah. Everything is fine.”
“Why do you sound weird then?”
“Not weird. Frustrated, maybe.”
“Why frustrated? Gini, what’s going on?” His concern was growing exponentially, and Gini knew that in his condition he should be relaxing.
“There’s no need to worry, Jonah. I’m okay. Do you want to talk to Patrick?”
Ten solid seconds of silence passed before Jonah laughed. “Patrick is at your house. I see.”
“No, you don’t. Now do you want to talk to him or not?” Gini took in a deep inhale. Frustration was turning into annoyance, which could easily lead to anger. She had to keep it light and not be bothered by what Jonah was thinking.
“Did I interrupt something?” Jonah asked.
“Nothing that should have gone on longer than it did, Jonah.”
“I don’t know about that,” he said. “I think you and Patrick could—”
“Don’t, Jonah. Please, don’t. We had dinner, and he’s going home now unless you want to speak with him.” Gini kept her voice low as Patrick put the bowls away. She didn’t want him to leave, but he had to.
“No, tell him to call me when he leaves. If he leaves.”
Gini heard the amusement in Jonah’s voice. “He’s leaving.” She took another deep breath, got centered. “How are you doing? Shoulder hurt?”
“Like a bastard, but there’s a beautiful woman here offering me drugs, sponge baths, and such. I think I’ll manage.”
“Only you could have fun with a busted collarbone.” Gini had to laugh at her brother’s outlook on things.
“You know it. You should have some fun too, Gini.”
“Maybe I did. Good night, Jonah. I’ll come by tomorrow, okay?”
“You’d better. Night.”
After hanging up, Gini slid off the couch and went to the kitchen. Patrick was kneeling while Saber rubbed his cheeks over Patrick’s fingers. She’d never seen her cat be so friendly. And while a huge German Shepherd watched no less.
“Male bonding?” she asked as she returned the phone to its holder.
“Seems to be.” Patrick stood and wiped his hand on his jeans. Saber weaved between Gini’s feet and meowed.
“Hush, Saber. I’ll feed you in a minute.”
“I should go,” Patrick said. “Venez, Midas.” He patted his thigh, and Midas got to all fours beside him. “Everything okay with Jonah?”
Gini wanted to kiss him all over again for his concern. “Yeah, he’s fine. Haddy is taking good care of him.” She’d probably have all sorts of stories for Gini when they talked. “He wants you to call him when you leave. Said he tried your cell.”
Patrick’s brows furrowed as he reached into his pockets. “I must have left my phone in the truck. I’ll give him a call on the drive home.”
“You want to take the photos of Meadow Cliff with you?”
“That would be great.”
Gini nodded as Saber meowed again. What was that cat trying to tell her?
“Give me a minute.” She disappeared down the hallway and gathered the photos from the darkroom. She stuffed them into an envelope and, thinking of Patrick’s labeled file folder in Mason’s office, wrote “Meadow Cliff” along with the date on the outside.
As she handed the envelope to Patrick, she said, “Thanks again for dinner. I enjoyed every minute of it.”
Patrick jingled his car keys in his hands, and again Gini imagined those hands on her. Would she ever get to feel them again? Would he touch more of her next time? Would there be a next time? Could she allow one?
“I enjoyed dinner too. And the ice cream.” Patrick flicked his gaze to the porch door. “And the…swinging.”
Gini held her breath as Patrick closed the distance between them. She had to angle her head up to look at him, and when she did, he brushed his lips ever so lightly against hers.
Then he stepped away, smiled at her, and walked to the door.
“Partez, Midas.”
The dog nuzzled Gini’s knee and left through the door. Another second later and Patrick was gone too.
Saber meowed yet again, but Gini didn’t move. She was afraid to.
If she moved, would the pleasant warmth still tingling on her lips vanish like a dream upon waking?
If so, she was quite content to remain asleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Sunday morning with orange juice, a bowl of cereal, a breathtaking mountain view, and a loyal dog by his side. What more did a man need? Patrick glanced down at the photos of Meadow Cliff spread across the table he was using in the small kitchen.
A woman with golden curls and satin lips. That’s the more a man needed. The more this man needed. Last night, he’d come to the partially gutted building he now called home and spent at least ten minutes standing in the darkness as he reviewed the evening’s events. Gathering evidence at Meadow Cliff had gone smoothly. Even cooking Gini dinner had been less strange than he’d thought it was going to be.
Kissing her, though. That’s where he’d let things get out of hand. She’d wanted to thank him, and he hadn’t been able to stop at just that. Once he’d gotten a taste of her, all maple walnut and female, he’d become so hungry for more. Gini had been willing to give him more too. That’s what scared him. The fact that all he’d had to do was keep kissing her, and they could have easily wound up doing more. So much more.
After a cold shower last night, he’d stared at his scars in the bathroom mirror. In light of how close he’d come to letting his control slip away, his chest and left thigh looked so much worse to him. The melted flesh fourteen surgeries had not been able to repair would have repulsed Gini. Some spots an angry red, others a ghostly pale white. All peeking beneath a spider web of grooves crisscrossing his skin. He was certain one look at him would have destroyed any thoughts of physical attraction Gini might have had about him last night. She deserved perfection and that was something he could not give her.
Shaking away the pitying thoughts, Patrick focused on the photographs. He finished his breakfast and made a new file folder for the Meadow Cliff paperwork he’d filled out so far. No mistaking that both fire scenes had been started by candles with a gasoline trail. He hated to admit that it was going to take a few more scenes to be able to put all the pieces together. Two incidents were not enough to develop a pattern and uncover a path to the arsonist. In Patrick’s experience so far, arsonists were characteristically intelligent people with a history of mental illness. Often, they were people who had something to hide—something that was eating them up i
nside. Setting fires was a release for them. A way to gain some power in a life that had made them feel powerless in some way. No one had been killed yet, and Patrick hoped it stayed that way.
He slid everything he’d done so far into the file folder and went to the bedroom. He’d called Jonah back as he left Gini’s, but Haddy had told him Jonah was out cold from the drugs the hospital gave him. Patrick had to listen to Haddy’s detailed description of how “damn cute” Jonah looked while he slept. He’d hung up promising to call again in the morning and trying to clear his mind of Jonah lying in bed, sleeping like a baby.
After slipping into his work uniform—it was his Sunday on-call—Patrick dialed Jonah’s number.
“Jonah, it’s Patrick. How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling you’re one of my new best friends, saving my life and all.”
“It wasn’t a heroic deed. Was I supposed to step over you and leave?”
“Oh, grumpy this morning, are we? You left my sister’s too soon last night, didn’t you?”
Patrick winced. He hadn’t meant to sound like a sexually deprived grouch. “I left right on schedule.”
“Right on whose schedule?” Jonah laughed. “I’ll leave you alone on that issue. For now. You’re going to the station today, right?”
“For a few hours, yes.”
“Can you do me a favor? My ’Stang is in the lot there, and I’m not supposed to drive because I’m tripping on drugs right now, not to mention one-armed. I don’t trust it unattended down at the station, and I certainly don’t trust Gini or Haddy to drive it home for me. They don’t appreciate what a delicate machine she is. Mason drives like a cop, so he’s out too. And my parents would joyride all over town if I asked one of them. Would you mind bringing it by? Haddy’ll give you a ride back to the station afterward.”
“You’re trusting a guy you just met to drive your Mustang? You sure about this?” Patrick had to admit the thought of sitting behind the wheel of Jonah’s sweet red convertible was arousing. Not as arousing as sitting beside Jonah’s sweet blonde sister, but damn close.
“I’m trusting a guy who dragged me out of a burning barn. I don’t need to know another thing about you to know you can be trusted with my baby. There’s an extra key in my locker at the station. Combination seven-twenty-twelve.”
“Okay. I’m working until three. I’ll drive her over after that.” A little jolt of anticipation zipped through Patrick. Perhaps he could work out some of his…frustrations…driving Jonah’s Mustang. It was worth a try.
He scribbled down directions to Jonah’s house and hung up. Grabbing the Meadow Cliff folder and the evidence he’d gathered at that barn last night, Patrick summoned Midas and headed for his truck. A couple of hours at the station ought to get his head back on straight. He’d focus on his incident report or whatever Chief Warner wanted him to do around the station. Get his mind off maple walnut ice cream and kissing on swings.
****
“Did you know that Jonah snores?” Haddy asked.
“Yes.” Gini cut up the sandwiches her mother had sent from the bakery.
“Isn’t it adorable?” Haddy giggled as she grabbed some plates from the cupboard.
“Not when you’re fifteen and have to share a bed with him while on family vacation in Hawaii.”
Gini remembered wanting to suffocate Jonah with her pillow as he sucked in air and let it out like a monster truck revving its engine. She had begged her parents for a separate bed, preferably in another room, but they’d said it was too expensive. That she ought to consider herself lucky she was in Hawaii. They’d had to wait until they were in their forties to go somewhere exotic and here she was, enjoying the sunshine and beaches, at age fifteen. She’d grumbled about the injustice of having to sleep with one’s brother—how it would scar her fragile adolescent mind—but in the end, she had been thankful. Good thing too, for it was the last family vacation the Claremonts ever went on. Two years later, Gini had set Cameron’s car on fire and everyone thought it best to stay local. The farthest she’d been was to Rhode Island for college, and even that had been a risk her family hadn’t wanted to take. She’d had to beg and plead, without getting angry, of course, and finally Gini’s mother had convinced her father that they had to let her live her life, had to let her go. When Gini returned to Vermont after graduating, her parents’ sighs of relief had echoed throughout the mountains.
“Well,” Haddy said, “I think it’s adorable. He’s like a purring tiger.”
“I would have said a roaring jet, but okay.” Gini pushed a sandwich toward Haddy and looked around Jonah’s small kitchen. His usual clutter was gone, and she hadn’t once felt crumbs under her bare feet on the floor since she’d been there. “Did you clean in here?”
Haddy swiveled on the bar stool behind the island and nodded. “Uh-huh. I like Jonah and all, but I was not staying here in his filth.”
Gini barked out a laugh and looked at her friend’s glowing face. Haddy had never looked happier. Would she ever be that happy? Truly happy and not a happy she had to paint on each day? “You’re what Jonah needs, Haddy.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Jonah leaned in the doorway of the kitchen. His hair was a mess, and his eyes looked a little puffy. The gray sweat shorts and T-shirt he wore had seen better days, and he cradled his right arm in the sling bound to his torso.
Gini zeroed in on the tiny crease between her brother’s brows and knew he was in more pain than he would ever complain about. “Just in time for lunch,” she said. “Come sit.”
Haddy popped up from her seat and slid out a chair at the kitchen table for him. He eased into it, a quiet groan escaping his lips as he lowered. Haddy dropped a kiss on his cheek and finger-combed his hair back. Another sound, quite contrary to pain, buzzed out of him, and Haddy laughed.
“How do you feel?” she asked as she stood behind him.
He leaned his head back so it rested on her stomach. “Like if I had two working hands, they’d be all over you.”
Haddy bent and teased Jonah’s mouth with hers. Gini looked away and concentrated on her sandwich. Thoughts of Patrick, not erased from her memory anyway, crept to the forefront. She took a long swig of her iced tea, hoping to wash away Patrick’s image, but knowing it was an impossible task.
The doorbell sounded, and Gini took that as her chance to get away from Haddy and Jonah’s sappy cuteness. When she opened the door, Mason stepped inside.
“Hi, Gini. Came to check on the boy.”
“He’s in the kitchen getting fondled by Haddy.”
Mason stopped just shy of the kitchen. “Should I leave?”
“Yes, and take me with you.” Gini pushed Mason so he stumbled into the kitchen.
“Hey, Mason,” Jonah said. “Sit. Have a sandwich.”
“From your mom’s?” Mason eyed the sandwiches.
“Only the best at Chez Claremont.” Jonah arced his good arm out.
Mason sat and accepted the plate Gini gave him. “Thanks.” He bit into the sandwich and rolled his eyes. After chewing and swallowing, he sighed. “If your mother wasn’t your mother, I’d kidnap her and ask her to make me sandwiches for the rest of my life.”
“Maybe Raina makes good sandwiches,” Jonah said.
“Yeah, how was your date with her?” Haddy asked.
“She makes me dizzy.”
Mason had a dreamy look on his face that made him look boyishly handsome. Not at all like Patrick. Nothing boyish about Patrick, Gini thought. He was all man, right down to the core. Grown-up and sexier than anyone she’d ever met. Quiet, solemn, holding back part of himself from the world. She wanted to know everything about him.
She ran her index finger along her bottom lip as she pictured Patrick on her swing last night. What would have happened if Jonah hadn’t called? Would she have invited Patrick to stay? Would he have accepted the invitation?
Probably not. He wasn’t ready to be that comfortable with her, and she wasn’t ready to tes
t her control on her emotions. She would never forgive herself if things got out of hand, and she accidentally hurt Patrick with what she could do. She would not be responsible for another Cameron, although Gini highly doubted Patrick would force himself on her. Not his style.
Then again, she hadn’t thought force was Cameron’s style either. But what did she know? She had been a silly girl, mistaking physical interest and hormones for love.
“Right, Gini?”
“What?” Gini hadn’t caught any of the table conversation.
“I said you were with Patrick last night,” Jonah said.
Gini looked up to see three sets of curious eyes on her. “I was.”
They waited, watched. Gini grew hot under her tank top and shorts. Even her bare toes sweated.
“That’s it?” Haddy asked. “That’s all you’re giving us?”
“That’s all I have to give you.” Gini shrugged and finished her iced tea.
“No,” Mason said. “There has to be more.”
“Has to be,” Jonah agreed.
“He cooked me dinner while I developed the Meadow Cliff photos. That’s it.” Gini studied the crumbs on her plate. She would not look up. She would not look up so they could see there was more.
“The Meadow Cliff photos are done?” Mason asked.
Gini exhaled, relieved Mason had a work-centered brain. Bless him. “Yes. I gave a copy to Patrick and have a set for you in my purse.” She got up, thankful for the diversion, and retrieved the photos. “Here you go.” She placed them on the table and Mason grabbed them.
“Anything of interest?” He opened the envelope and slid his sandwich out of the way.
“Another candle, right,” Gini waited for Mason to flip to the correct photo, “there.” She pointed to the pale green wax blob. “Patrick bagged it. Said Midas found a gasoline trail too.”
Mason nodded. “Same as the Cloudson Drive house.” He stood. “I’ve got to talk to Patrick.”
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