Sam chuckled.
* * *
Jess dug out some clothes, shoes, and a pair of rose colored throw pillows. She smiled as she shoved them into his hands before he could dart out of reach. “These are temporary until you get a new couch. Then we’ll get something that matches your manly interior.”
He groaned.
“It’s either that or I’m taking the poodles home with me.” She reached for the closest pair and paused. Her eyes were full of mischief.
Knowing he was trapped, he shoved the pillows into the cardboard box at his feet. “At least Spike will have two new chew toys.”
Yes, and probably secretly covered in chicken broth for optimal doggie chewing enjoyment.
She wouldn’t put it past him. He did have a disdain for throw pillows. And he thought she had issues.
“Someday, Detective Cranky, when you’ve married some lucky girl with the patience of a saint, you’ll have to get used to feminine touches around your house. We women see the lack of personality in a home as an affront to womankind.”
The idea of Sam marrying anyone else made her heart ache. She was running toward falling hard for him. The idea of that was truly terrifying.
“Thankfully, marriage is far off, if ever. I can keep my house the way I like it. And my sanity.”
Curious, she lifted a brow. “You don’t want a family?”
“It’s not in my plan.”
The part of her that wanted marriage and kids knew he wasn’t the guy who’d rub her feet or bring her a cocktail after a long day of working stakeouts. She’d have to look elsewhere for her happily ever after. But the part of her that had her heart engaged wished he could be that guy. It had been a long time since she’d been in love, and damn, the detective was hitting all the right buttons inside her for the short haul.
It was those few buttons that he’d missed that made her realize he wasn’t her Prince Charming.
And would never be.
Holding back a sigh, she dug around in a box and found the prize. She lifted up the leather pants she’d promised him and shook them out. Though slightly creased from being in storage, and having gained a couple of pounds over the last year, she was pretty sure they’d still fit.
Sam grinned. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
He was such a guy.
“If you promise not to complain about Spike and pillows for the duration of our stay with you, I promise to wear these a few times.”
“Agreed.”
Despite the whole Kate Beckinsale in Underworld and Olivia Newton John in Grease—actresses who’d made wearing skin tight leather look effortless—wearing leather as a second skin wasn’t all that comfortable. But by the expression in his eyes, she knew the time between putting them on to Sam peeling her out of them wouldn’t be long. She couldn’t wait.
It took another ten minutes to find the items she wanted to take to Sam’s and she closed and locked the unit. Sam carried the big box as she led them to the old pickup he’d driven over. He put the box in the truck bed and they climbed inside.
A faded green over white, and with questionable shocks, the vehicle rumbled and rattled and drew attention as they drove to his house. There was no air conditioning or a modern stereo. Still, it had its pluses. “Spike would love to chew on these seats,” she said.
“Spike will never have a chance to find out.”
She kind of liked the old vehicles. They had more character than the mass produced cars and trucks of today. Maybe Summer was wearing off on her. Her convertible was cute, too.
They pulled into the driveway and Sam went around to collect the box of goodies while Jess joined him.
They got that far before a car crept down the street. Neither she nor Sam gave it any notice until the driver opened fire.
Chapter Thirty-Six
With rapid-fire machine gun accuracy, pellets stung her bare skin and bounced off the back of the truck.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
“Get down!” Sam yelled and dragged her down. Jess watched as Olive, rolling slowly by in the same car as the day at the motel, grinned as she blasted pellets at them.
“That witch,” Jess yelled.
Sam pulled his gun, but Jess was faster. She was up on her feet and running toward the car, unconcerned for her own safety. If Olive took out an eye, so be it. She was out for blood and seeing red. Nothing else mattered but finally getting her hands on the freckle-faced menace.
Using the truck and then a large wheeled garbage can perched on the curb for cover, she hit the street, her Keds slapping on pavement, seconds before Olive saw her coming.
Olive squawked, unprepared for her prey to fight back. She shot wildly over her shoulder as she tried to get out of the way of her enraged pursuer. Jess had speed—and the narrow street—on her side.
“You’re toast, Olive!” Jess shouted as she raced after the junker. Held together by Bondo and duct tape, the car did not appear to have much of a punch. It coughed as Olive jammed on the gas in a futile attempt to escape.
Sam shouted swear words behind her. Jess kept going, her eyes locked on to her target as the car chugged away at a turtle’s pace. The sniper shooting at her while making her escape didn’t help.
Olive must have come to the same fight or flight conclusion. High-pitched maniacal laugher followed as she tried to get the gun down, tangling it in her seat belt.
The young woman wasn’t a genius.
Jess circled around to the side of the car and dove for the open window. Olive yelped as the top half of Jess hit her in the shoulder and pushed her sideways on the seat. Jess grabbed for a hand hold. She got a fist full of brown hair.
That’d do.
“Get off me,” Olive screamed, while simultaneously pushing down the gas pedal and flailing at Jess. Olive managed to get the gun out of the way and one hand tightly clamped around the steering wheel. The car managed a small rabbit jump forward and finally got traction.
The wreck swerved, bouncing off a curb both to the left and right. There were several parked cars along the street near the end. Olive steered in that direction while trying to shake her off like the bad guys did in big Hollywood action flicks. Jess saw her intent and decided to live to kill her another day.
With her hand still wrapped around hair, she pushed back out the window. Olive shrieked and pitched sideways, cracking her head against the frame.
Jess tucked and rolled out of the way of tires when she hit the pavement. Jumping to her feet she yelled, “I’m going to kill you!” at their fleeing sniper.
Olive shook a beefy fist out the open window. “You have to catch me first!” She paused, stuck her head out, smiled and waved. “Love you, Sam!”
Finally getting up to escape speed, she took the turn too fast at the end of the street, pitched back and forth while trying to regain control, and was gone in a puff of gray smoke. They heard the car backfire from the next block over and then silence.
The whole incident had taken seconds from start to finish. Jess panted from the effort. A smile split her face.
Well, that was fun.
“What in the hell were you thinking?” Sam joined her and looked her over for injuries. He brushed dirt off her knees. “She could have killed you.”
“She didn’t.” Jess held out a hand. A clump of brown hair weaved through her fingers. She held it out like it was a participation trophy from an elementary science fair. “Look. I took a DNA sample for evidence.”
“What do we need DNA for?” He scowled and stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “We already know who she is.”
Darn. Caught. She smile turned sheepish. “Okay, I just wanted to pull her hair. Is that so wrong?”
With a low curse, Sam spun her around and slapped dirt off her backside. He took a little longer than necessary. He was mad, but not that mad.
“What if she’d had the .22 or something bigger?” He wasn’t about to leave off the lectur
e. “Or she ran you over? You can’t win against a BF Goodrich rolling you beneath a couple thousand pounds of car.”
“I was in no danger, Dad,” she snapped. “She was going, what, five miles per hour and had the pellet gun out. If anyone was in danger, it was her. I almost caught her.” She bent over and shook her head. “I think I have pellets in my hair.”
As if to prove it, two dropped to the ground.
“You need to take this seriously,” he said. “She’s a lunatic. One day she won’t be shooting pellets.”
* * *
When Sam saw the car drive off with Jess’s ass sticking out the window, he’d about lost it. All he could think about was her getting flattened like a suicidal squirrel on a highway. And while he was thinking their relationship was about to end violently, she was risking that pretty little ass for a handful of hairs and a bit of revenge.
“You have to promise me you won’t do anything like that again,” he said. “Irving will kill me if you get hurt.” Yes, use Irving as his excuse. It was better than telling her his heart had stopped when he saw her go into the car. He was already halfway in love with her. He couldn’t lose her before figuring out just what he wanted from their relationship.
Hell, he couldn’t lose her—ever.
She opened her hand and the Olive hairs fluttered to the ground. “No promises.”
“Jess,” he warned. He’d take her over his knee if he had to. “You are so damn stubborn.”
Their eyes locked. She broke first. “Fine. But I want something from you.”
Everything told him he wasn’t going to like what she said, but if it kept her safe, he’d agree. “Name it.”
“I want to know why you gave up baseball.”
“Hell, no.” He spun and stalked back toward the house.
She hurried up beside him. “You said I could have something and that’s what I want.”
Jerking the door open, he brushed past Spike and Calvin who was wearing a small loin cloth and a pair of moccasins. Both man and dog had the common sense to get out of the way.
Good lord. Not only had his life gone off the rails, but it had skidded down an embankment and landed on its hood in an alligator infested swamp.
This was what happened when you let a crazy woman into your life. “Some things are better left alone, Jess.”
The bulldog in her wasn’t about to move on. She’d opened the door and walked through. “Why? Did you kill someone?”
He stopped and turned. “No, I didn’t kill anyone.”
Calvin snapped his fingers and he and the dog fled to the safety of the backyard. Smart man.
“Then why won’t you tell me?” She followed him into the living room. He dropped onto the couch. She sat on the other end and probed his face with her intuitive eyes.
There was no way she’d let this go. Why in the hell did he have to fall for a Brash PI and not someone less…complicated?
“Damnit.” He rubbed a hand over his chin. If they stayed together for more than five minutes, he’d have to tell her eventually. The longer he waited, the more she’d build it up in her mind anyway. Might as well get it over with.
“If I tell you, you have to promise to let it go.”
“I promise.”
Skeptical, he decided to let her in anyway. “I had a girlfriend in college who I’d dated for two years. She was fine with dating a star college athlete but wasn’t fine with me going off to play pro. She thought I’d fall in with groupies and cheat.”
“It happens.”
“Hold on. It gets worse.” He rubbed his eyes. “She told me she was pregnant and wouldn’t keep the baby if I left her. So I quit baseball and chose her and our child.”
Jess chewed on that for a moment. “She wasn’t pregnant.”
“No, she wasn’t. Three months later, she came clean and we broke up.” He raked his hands over his head. “I should have seen it coming.”
“You were young and you trusted her. That wasn’t your fault.” Her hand closed over his. Her eyes filled not with pity but with understanding. “Did you try to revive your career after?”
He couldn’t tell her about the pain he’d felt losing the child that never existed or the sense of betrayal that had left him raw. Or the months of drinking and losing himself in casual one-night-stands to try and kill the pain. Some things were left buried.
If this made him gun-shy about relationships, so be it.
“I was already enrolled in the police academy and my life was taking a new direction.” He kissed her knuckles. Strangely, sharing had lifted some of the burden. “I don’t regret becoming a cop. But now you know why I’m reluctant to buy into that whole white picket fence thing. It’s crap.”
* * *
Jess saw pain in his eyes and knew he’d mourned the loss of the child more than the career. But she wouldn’t press him to hash out his feelings, or to change his mind about trust and taking a chance on another relationship. He had to find his own way. However, if he ever wanted to discuss anything deeper, he knew where to find her.
Instead, she leaned in. He was very warm. “I don’t regret you becoming a cop, either. I wouldn’t have met you if you hadn’t changed careers.” Whether that would be on his top ten reasons for being happy with his chosen career or not, it was the first in her mind. In this moment, she wanted him more than anything else.
The hint of a smile tugged his mouth. “Is that so?”
“It is so.”
“Then come here and show me how much.” He tugged her to him and pushed her down on the couch. He teased her mouth with little kisses, then kissed her, all in. She met his tongue and cupped his head and made out with the big bad detective on the couch her dog had chewed up.
After, when they came up for air, his eyes were soft on hers. “You drive me nuts,” he said and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve never been challenged by a woman quite like this.”
Jess nipped his chin and teased, “Are you complaining, Officer?”
“Not a bit,” he said with a slow grin. “Now, get out of those panties.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Sam took a call about the letters from the lab. There was nothing to lead them to Olive or Albert. Most of what was included with the phone number to the cabin was a grocery list and some doodling. It was another wall. He headed to the PD to run their info through every database available. Olive and Albert couldn’t hide forever.
Jess was sipping the last of her tea when Calvin and Spike wandered back in on a stiff breeze that ruffled the curtains. Man and dog had bonded over their mutual desire to hang out in nature, though for different reasons.
“Thank you for the food,” Calvin said and swiped his long golden locks back from his face. He really was a Greek god, without the Greek part. His jawline alone would make the statue of David weep. “You don’t have to feed me, you know.”
“I know.” She’d rather have him here than walking into local restaurants undressed as he was. Who knew who would follow him home? He was already the neighborhood oddity. Launching him into society could cause mass hysteria. “I like being helpful. After all, you’re watching out for me.”
Oddly, she felt not a twinge of anything when she looked at him. Life with a man like Calvin would be a lot less complicated if she did. Well, if she could get him to wear pants. Having feelings for Sam was like climbing a mountainside without protective gear. One slip and you were toast.
Calvin walked to the cabinet, took out a glass, and went to the sink. “Is Sam here?”
“He’s at work.” She sipped. The two men practiced mutual avoidance. “Can I ask you a question?”
He joined her at the table. His mini-shorts covered just enough to keep her from blushing. “Sure.”
The shadowy man called the Naked Protester had lived in the backyard for days and she knew almost nothing about him. She’d been too busy trying not to get shot with pellets to care. “Why are you really here? Y
ou know I don’t need a bodyguard, right?”
Staring at her over the rim of the water glass, he shrugged his big manly shoulders. Then, “I know.” He sat the glass down and cupped his hands together. “I guess I came for Alvin. He thinks I’m a freak. I’d like us to get to know each other again.”
That was sweet. The Ape and Zeus’s offspring bonding over beer and wheatgrass tea. It was a Hallmark moment. “You are polar opposites.”
He smiled. His teeth were whiter than Dodger’s. “If I show him I can help you out, maybe we can reconnect. Maybe I can find a place and live here. I’m getting too old to wander around all the time, and Ann Arbor is the epicenter of thinking minds like mine.”
The city was open-minded about all ideas. Nothing was too out there to get you ostracized. “You’d have to wear clothes. Winters can be brutal.”
The smile flashed again. “One step at a time, Jess. One step at a time.”
* * *
Jess left Spike with Calvin and went to work. She wanted to connect with Summer and Taryn. The latter had a weird tone in her text when she requested a sit down. Jess didn’t need to hear her voice to sense it. If something serious was up, the three of them were in it together.
Summer was waiting in her office dressed in pink capris and a white sleeveless top. Marriage agreed with her. She glowed with contentment.
Jess dropped into a free chair, tamped down an image of a naked Sam pulling her down on top of him, and wondered where in the heck her happily ever after guy was hiding. “Do you know what this meeting is about?”
Her friend shrugged. “Maybe she and Rick had a fight?”
Although they did argue like an old married couple, the pair was solid. “I think it was more than that. I hope Olive didn’t do something to her.”
“Olive isn’t the reason I called you here.” Taryn walked stiffly into the room. It was good to see her back on her feet without crutches. “I have some big news.”
The Sweetheart Kiss Page 19