by Odell, Terry
Slowly, he accepted Elle might have been right. Life did go on.
After a month, the pain eased into a bearable numbness. Thanksgiving, then Christmas came and went, as did New Year’s.
Harper and Manny were fine, and Hotshot had resumed light duty. Jinx had controlled four rescue ops without snafus, but the easy banter between himself and the team was strained. On the rare occasions Fozzie, Dalton, or anyone else dropped by the command center, it was for a specific purpose. In and out like the wind. As if they were avoiding having to make conversation.
Which was fine with him. Talking was highly overrated.
Chapter 42
“I don’t know.” Elle wrapped her sister in a tight embrace. “It’s a stupid thing to do. I could find a dozen similar jobs here.”
“But you get the best of both worlds taking the position in San Francisco. You’ll be doing what you want to do, and be closer to the man-whose-name-shall-not-be-mentioned, even if you don’t let him know you’re there,” Trish said.
“But what if you need me? You know, trauma recovery isn't an overnight thing.”
Trish shoved Elle away. “Overnight? It’s been months. I’m fine, and frankly, big sister, you’re cramping my style. I have a life to live, and people to share it with. And a counselor I can talk to. You’ve been hovering and moping for way too long. When will you be ready to admit you love he who remains nameless and apologize for sending him away?”
Elle sighed and tugged at her hair. Getting it cut into a chin-length bob and adding red-gold highlights hadn’t done anything to change her self-image or mood. Jinx still haunted her. Should she concede and let him know where she was?
Admittedly, she’d made it hard for him to find her by moving in with Trish. She’d called in what favors she had left and insisted nobody on the force reveal her whereabouts, simply saying she didn’t work there any longer.
When her request for extended leave had been refused and her promotion denied, she had a ‘smell the coffee’ moment and quit. The thought that had begun percolating in her brain while she was at the mercy of the cartel had become a driving force. She could do more good working at the halfway house, steering women toward the right path.
But why are you torturing yourself by doing it in San Francisco?
Trish squeezed Elle’s hands. “Time to leave the nest. As if you haven’t already done it in your head, or you wouldn’t have taken the job. How long do you think you can keep him from finding you once you’re that close?”
“He could have found me already. If he really wanted to.” Elle was surprised he hadn’t. And disappointed. Given his skills, even with her attempts to stay under the radar, he should have found her. She’d left a few doors open.
It was the first time she’d spoken the thought out loud, and it stung just as much as when she’d kept it bottled up. “But I’ve committed to the new job. Besides, San Francisco is a big city. He works way outside town in some secret compound, and I’ll be living at the shelter until I find a place of my own.”
Trish gave her a smug smile. “I expect to get the call when you two reunite. I think I’ll start a pool at the office.” She rolled her eyes skyward as if searching for a vision. “My premonition says Valentine’s Day.”
Elle couldn’t help but grin at her sister’s optimism. If anything, Trish was stronger—both health-wise and person-wise—than before she’d been abducted. Elle stroked her sister’s hair. “Don’t squander too much money on wild speculation.”
“I have faith.” Trish’s eyes twinkled. “Now, go. Start your new life.”
Elle shouldered her tote containing the last of her belongings and trotted down the stairs to her car. She stowed the bag with the rest of her boxes and, with a final wave, began the drive north.
Jinx glowered at Dalton. “I don’t want to go to a fundraiser at Galloway House. I have other things I need to be doing.”
“Like what?” Dalton said. He perched a hip on the corner of Jinx’s desk. “See if you can beat your high score at those stupid games you play? You don’t have to stay. I promised I’d help Miri set up, and she needs another pair of hands. Haul in some boxes, move some chairs, schmooze for twenty minutes and you can bail.”
“I said I didn’t want to go.” Galloway House was a good cause, and Jinx knew it, but socializing? He wasn’t up for it.
Dalton stepped closer. He plucked a tiny velvet box from his sport coat pocket. “I need you, man. Moral support. Tonight’s the night. I figured Valentine’s Day would make it special.” He popped the box open, revealing a simple diamond ring. “You think I should have gone bigger? More bling?”
Jinx clapped Dalton on the shoulder. “You’re finally going to pop the question? The ring is perfect. Miri will love it.”
“So you’ll come?”
Despite the hollow feeling in his belly, Jinx couldn’t ignore the excitement—and a touch of nerves—in Dalton’s plea. To be fair, the man had saved his ass more than once. “All right. I’ll be there.” He hesitated, perusing his jeans and tee. “I don’t have to wear a tux or anything, do I?”
“Nah. It’s a casual thing. No dress code. You might think about shaving, though. We leave in half an hour.”
“You’re only offering me a ride because you think I won’t show up, right?”
“No, you’re driving. I figured—” Dalton ducked his head.
“I get it, I get it. You, Miri, ring, celebrating.”
An hour later, Jinx hefted a carton out of the back of his car and handed it to Dalton, taking the second for himself. As he walked up the steps to the door of Galloway House, he wished he’d told Dalton to find someone else. After so much time avoiding the face-to-face thing, he was already counting the minutes until he could leave. At least he had wheels.
Jinx rang the bell. Miri Chambers appeared, her face glowing as if she knew something special was going to happen tonight.
“Jinx. So glad you made it. Happy Valentine’s Day. You can take that box into the dining room. Through the kitchen.” She pointed him down the hall and stepped to Dalton, tilting her face up for a kiss. Jinx’s hollow feeling returned. He left them to their greeting and ambled in the direction Miri had indicated.
The kitchen was surprisingly empty. The aroma of coffee mingled with a hint of chocolate, reinforced by two large platters of chocolate chip cookies and another piled with brownies. That was all? He wondered if Galloway House was proving the need for raising funds with such sparse offerings. Didn’t matter. He had his box to deliver and then he could find a place to hide out for a decent interval, say his goodbyes, and be out of here.
He shouldered the swinging door to the dining room open. The room was empty except for a woman standing on a stepladder, her back to him. Reddish-brown hair curved down over her neck. Despite his current apathy toward all things female, his hard-wiring took over and his gaze ran downward, past a red polo, stopping at her denim-clad ass. A very nice ass.
“Where do you want this?” he asked.
She didn’t say anything. In fact, she froze, her arm outstretched above her head, attaching a big paper heart to the wall, which was decorated with hearts, cupids, and other Valentine’s Day paraphernalia.
He was about to repeat his question when the heart she was hanging floated toward the ground. She reached to catch it, lost her balance. The ladder tilted. Jinx dropped the carton and sprinted across the room.
She knocked him off balance, but it wasn’t her weight that hit him. It was her scent. Elle’s unique scent. His knees buckled and they both toppled to the floor. Afraid to speak, he simply lay there, absorbing the feel of her against his body. A familiar feel, with a familiar below-the-belt tingle.
She broke away, scrambling to her feet. “You? What are you doing here?”
Yet there wasn’t a lot of indignation in her tone. She spoke the words as if they were expected of her, not as if she meant them.
Jinx pushed to a sitting position. “I think I could say the same of y
ou. I live in this city, you know. I’m here to help set up for the fundraiser. Don’t worry. As soon as I’m done, I’ll be gone.”
“Fundraiser? What fundraiser?”
“Dalton said—”
“Dalton’s crazy. There’s no fundraiser. We’re having a Valentine’s Day party. For the residents.”
Which explained the lack of fancy food. He narrowed his eyes, taking in the red polo with the Galloway logo over her left breast. When her headlights flashed to high beam, he shifted his gaze, but not without a glimmer of hope they might still have a chance.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
She crossed her arms over her chest. He wished he could hide his own immediate and aching response to her presence, but crossing his hands over his crotch wasn’t an option.
She lifted her chin. “I work here. I live here, too.”
“How long?”
“Been here a couple of weeks. Quit my job—wasn’t working out. I wanted to do something more immediate, more useful.” Her tone suggested she didn’t want to go any further.
“And you ended up here?”
She shrugged. “Dalton told me about the place when we were in Mexico, and Miri said she had a job opening. Trish is fine.” Elle gave a wry laugh. “She kicked me out. I’d sub-let my apartment and moved in with her to help her recuperate, so I decided to go whole hog with the ‘today is the first day of the rest of your life’ thing.”
A little piece of his heart opened. Even if she’d been hiding from him, she could have started her life anywhere, but she’d chosen to come here. Closer to where he lived. “You’d been in touch with Miri, then?” Duh.
“I made her swear not to tell. Not even Dalton. Especially not Dalton.”
“So why did Dalton tell me this was a fundraiser?” Had Miri broken her promise? Had Dalton—and everyone else—known Elle was in town? Had Dalton set him up? He couldn’t fathom any of the team playing cupid. Guys didn’t do that. Did they?
“Miri probably figured he wouldn’t show up for a simple Valentine’s Day party.”
Jinx thought of the ring in Dalton’s pocket. He’d have shown up. Heck, he’d have shown up even if there wasn’t a party.
Elle picked up the heart and brushed it off. “I didn’t know you were coming. Honest,” she said. “Miri would have warned me. I would have gone somewhere else for the evening.”
Jinx couldn’t wrap his head around Elle’s thought processes. She’d moved to San Francisco, but didn’t want to see him?
Elle’s cell phone buzzed. She checked the display and turned away. “Hey, Trish. What’s up?”
Jinx inched toward the door. He’d found Elle, so to speak, but she wasn’t ready to deal with what had happened between them, and he wasn’t prepared to force a discussion. He’d go home, regroup, and formulate a plan of action. Because if he knew anything, he knew he had to figure out how he really felt.
But instead of leaving, he paused, compelled to listen to Elle’s side of the conversation.
“What are you talking about?” A pause. “How do you know?” Another pause, combined with widening eyes. “You did what?” She spun, glared at Jinx, then turned her back, shouting into the phone. “How could you?”
She listened for a while, pacing, one hand flapping, the other pressing the phone to her ear. Jinx stood against the wall next to the door, curious to see where this was going.
Elle, her cheeks flushed the shade of pink he loved, stuck the phone in her pocket. “That was Trish.”
“I figured.”
“She’s been in cahoots with Miri. For over a month.”
“I thought you got here a couple of weeks ago.”
She rolled her eyes. “Apparently, when I was talking about what happened in Mexico, Trish decided she needed to bring us together. She said if we saw each other again, we’d be rushing into each other’s arms, so she and Miri decided this party would be the way to go.”
The door pushed open and Miri swept in. “You two.” Miri pointed toward the door. “Take this somewhere else.”
Jinx and Elle stared at her. “What?” Elle said.
“You heard me. As I understand it, both of you have unfinished business to take care of. We need this space for the party.”
Jinx waited, deferring to Elle. Who surprised him by agreeing with Miri instead of kicking him out.
“There’s a deli around the corner,” Elle said. “I’ll get my purse.”
Right. Someplace public. No scenes. So much for Your place or mine?
Dalton entered as Elle was leaving. From the surprise on his face, Jinx figured Miri had kept her word after all.
Once Elle left, Jinx glared at Miri. “You set me up.”
Miri gave him a sheepish nod. “Elle’s sister put me up to it.”
“But what if I hadn’t come?” Jinx asked.
“Hey, man.” Dalton raised his hands in apology. “She told me it was a fundraiser and she needed help. She suggested you come, too, and I thought—” he touched his pocket— “well—I didn’t have a clue there was an ulterior motive.”
Jinx cocked his head, motioning Dalton closer. He lowered his voice. “You okay with me leaving? You know—”
Dalton nodded. “I’m fine. Go do what you need to do.” He leaned in, his mouth close to Jinx’s ear. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Chapter 43
Elle kept her eyes straight ahead as they walked to the deli. Jinx strolled beside her, but she felt each sidelong glance he cast her way. She wasn’t ready to deal with small talk, and she definitely wasn’t ready to deal with the big question. Why the hell had she moved to San Francisco?
From the way her heart had beat like a snare drum playing a Sousa march when she’d heard Jinx’s voice, she had the answer. But although her heart might have accepted Jinx, her brain still had trouble picturing him as a man she could let into her life. They’d had sex because they didn’t want to die without it. Circumstances were different now. Did she want “let’s see if it still works” sex?
She knew it couldn’t be a let’s be friends thing. Trish had seen right through her, to the extent that she’d had the gall to set up this meeting. Elle didn’t know whether she wanted to hug her sister or disown her.
Jinx’s hand, a feather touch at the small of her back as they entered the deli, tempted her to slow and lean into it, but she maintained her pace, following the hostess to a booth. She slid along the faux leather banquette, set her napkin onto her lap and arranged the silverware as if she expected royalty for dinner.
She shoved the menu aside. Fussed with her napkin. Moved her knife a quarter of an inch closer to the spoon.
Jinx inhaled, then exhaled audibly. “I guess I’ll go first. I didn’t leave you. Not intentionally. I was outside the hotel room when someone snuck up and drugged me. Dalton was in the parking lot when they carried me out and… took care of things. By the time I came to and convinced Dalton to leave his personal vendetta with the cartel alone and went back to the hotel, you were gone.”
He picked up a packet of crackers, crushed it in his fist. “I found you in Mexico City. You sent me away. Damn, I’ve been kicking myself for not standing my ground, but… I guess it was a matter of pride. Or cowardice. I came back here, called in favors, but you’d disappeared.” He reached for her hand, but she put hers in her lap. He nodded in understanding. “It took awhile, but I accepted you’d meant it when you said we shouldn’t be together. I gave up. Trying to find you, not thinking about you. I tried tracking down your sister, but I was a total failure there, too. I must have called every Sheridan from Long Beach to Santa Barbara.”
“Trish lives in our mom’s old place. Everything’s in her name—Owen.”
“Riverside PD said you’d quit. I accepted you’d really meant it when you said you wanted to break things off, so I stopped looking. After all, you knew where I worked, so I wasn’t hard to find.”
She adjusted the salt and pepper shakers so they lined up equidistant on
either side of the container of sugar packets. “I thought about it. A million times. I punched in Blackthorne’s number, but never let the call go through.”
After an uncomfortable silence, Elle allowed her gaze to lift from her place setting. Jinx had let his hair grow out. There was an aura of weariness around his eyes—bluer than she remembered—but there was a smoldering behind them.
“You hungry?” she asked.
He shook his head. “You?”
“I should have suggested somewhere… private. More conducive to talking.”
She could almost hear the gears grinding as he tested all the possible responses. “I don’t live too far,” he said.
If his eyes had smoldered before, they were a three alarm blaze now, igniting her own fires even higher.
“We could get our food to go,” he said. “Or, we could call for delivery… later.” He hitched a hip off the seat, fished in his wallet and tossed some bills on the table. Eyebrows raised, he waited for her response. Which was to grab her purse and scoot out of the booth.
“Separate cars,” was her only concession to sensibility.
He gave her his address.
Neither stopped in at Galloway House when they retrieved their cars. As she drove, the butterflies in her belly became a fleet of Romulan warbirds, and she asked herself if this wasn’t the stupidest thing she’d ever done.
No. You moved to San Francisco and didn’t think that was stupid. In a few minutes, you’ll find out whether you were right.
Still wondering, she sat in her car in the visitor’s parking section of Jinx’s building while he parked in his own space. He returned, placing his hand on the door handle. She popped the locks and got out, accepting his outstretched hand.
Oblivious to everything other than Jinx’s masculine presence, the scent she’d missed, she let him guide her down the hall to his condo. This time, instead of the feather touch at the small of her back, he gripped her around the waist. Gently at first, then tightened his hold as she moved closer.