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Watch Me (The Donovan Family Book 2)

Page 6

by Margaret Watson


  "Thanks." She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, as if she was suddenly cold. "That makes me feel better."

  "Do you want me to pick you up from the hospital so you don't have to walk in here alone?"

  "I'm a big girl, Quinn." She looked at her feet, and her heavy red hair fell over her face like a curtain. "I don't need someone to hold my hand."

  "No, you don't," he said, his voice even. "You're a capable, competent woman. I know you don't need help. But I thought you might want someone here the first time you get home after work." He put his hand on her arm. "I hoped you'd want to see me again."

  She lifted her head and shoved her hair behind her ears. "I'd like to see you," she admitted. "But I have to get back on the horse sometime. I have to come back to this apartment every night after I get off work. You can't be here every time."

  He'd like to be.

  Hell. Where had that come from?

  "I know," he said, struggling to keep from reaching for her. Even though the madness of the night before still burned in his veins, he would take this slow. Be respectful. "But the first time is always the hardest. There's no shame in wanting someone with you." He kept his gaze on her. "If you don't want me to be here, call one of your friends. Have them walk you home, come inside with you. It'll be easier tomorrow night, and the night after that. I promise."

  "No." She reached for his hand. "No, I don't want to call one of my friends. I want to see you tonight. I'd like you to pick me up from the hospital and walk me inside. I won't freak out if you're with me."

  "What time do you get off work?"

  "Eleven. But I don't usually leave for another fifteen or twenty minutes."

  "My shift ends at eleven, too. But if I catch a case, I might not be able to come by. Give me your cell number, and I'll call you if it's going to be later." He pulled out his phone and punched her number into his contact list and hit 'save'.

  He glanced at his watch. "I need to get going. Are you going to be okay?"

  "I'm fine, Quinn. I just changed my lock, and I bought a good one. No one has a key. I know I'm safe."

  He set his hands on her shoulders and drew her close. He couldn't stop himself. "Don't give your landlord a key just yet, okay? Until we catch this guy, I don’t want you wondering who has a key to your place."

  "Are you telling me to break the law, Detective?" Her eyes twinkled at him, and his gut clenched. What was it about this woman that made him...want?

  "Just bend it a little." He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her, inhaled her unique scent. "I want to keep you safe," he whispered.

  Her hands were around him, holding him close. One hand tangled in the hair at his nape, the other trailed down his spine. Heat licked at him, built inside him.

  He set her away from him before it became impossible to let her go. "I'll see you tonight, Tessa."

  She stared at his mouth, as if she wanted him to kiss her. Wasn't going to happen. Not until he turned her case over to Robbery. Not until he wasn't one of the police officers working on her case.

  Instead, he smoothed his finger over her lips, felt the sudden hitch of her breath. "Until tonight."

  "Okay" she said, sounding out of breath. "I'll see you then."

  He couldn't resist looking back before he closed her door. She was still standing in the kitchen, one hand over her mouth. As if trying to hold the memory of his touch.

  Damn. He was in trouble.

  ***

  A few hours later, Quinn was poring over credit card statements from one of their homicide victims, trying to trace his movements on the last two days of his life, when someone plopped down on the corner of his desk. He looked up to find his twin brother, Connor, grinning down at him.

  "Loafing again, Q? My partner and I closed two cases today."

  "Yeah, because you had the lame-ass ones." Quinn pushed the files away and linked his fingers behind his head. "Anyone with half a brain could have figured out who the killer was on those two cases."

  "Hear you've been hanging around the robbery guys. What's the matter? Can't hack homicide?"

  "Nah. Just getting tired of working with pansy-asses like you."

  Connor's grin faded. "What's up, Q? How come you were handling a robbery case?"

  "Call came in just as I pulled into my apartment's parking lot. It was in the building next to mine, and I wasn't sure if it was in progress, so I ran over. I was first on the scene." He explained what he'd found in Tessa's apartment. "I turned it over to robbery first thing this afternoon. Craig Schultz. Heard he's pretty sharp."

  "Yeah, I worked with him before I moved to homicide. Good guy."

  "So what's up, Con?" Quinn asked. "You need help with something?"

  "Haven't seen you in a while. Thought you might like to get a beer after shift tonight."

  "Sorry, I have plans. I'll catch you another night."

  "You have a date? Quinn Donovan, the guy who's only dated himself for the past year, has a date? Who is she?"

  Quinn felt his face heat. "Her name is Tessa. She's a nurse."

  "Yeah? Where'd you meet her?"

  "She was the, ah, victim last night. I'm picking her up from work so she doesn't have to walk into her apartment by herself."

  "Shut the front door! You're dating a woman you met on a case?"

  "It wasn't my case. I just happened to be there. And I'm not 'dating' her. I'm driving her home."

  "Splitting hairs, Q." Connor laughed. "Wait until the rest of the family hears about this."

  "Knock it off, Con. Unless you want everyone to hear about that hot little number who picked you up so she could pump you for details on that murder case." Quinn raised one eyebrow, and his twin put up his hands.

  "Fine. Okay. My lips are sealed." One side of Connor's mouth curled up. "Nice to know I can yank your chain so easily, though."

  "Seriously, Con. Don't say anything. If it gets back to Mom, she'll be relentless. She'll want to meet Tessa. And the next thing you know, she's planning my wedding." He fixed his brother with a death stare. "Unless you want me to reciprocate the next time you see a woman casually."

  "Yeah, yeah. I get it." Connor stood up. "My job here is done, anyway. You'll be worrying about Mom finding out all night tonight."

  Not when he was with Tessa. He wouldn't be thinking about anyone but her. "You're pathetic, Con. Jealous, too. You seriously need to get laid."

  "Tell me about it." He waved his hand and called over his shoulder, "Have fun tonight."

  Fun. He wasn't sure he'd call it that. Whatever was between him and Tessa felt a lot more intense than mere fun.

  Chapter 7

  Tessa dropped into a chair at the nurse's station and took a gulp of cold coffee. She'd been here for three hours and it had been crazy since the moment she arrived.

  Mrs. Gates had been wandering. She smiled and said, "Yes, dear," when one of the nurses gently took her back to her room and told her she needed to stay in bed. Fifteen minutes later, she was shuffling down the hallway again.

  Three new patients had been admitted, all within twenty minutes. Doctors had scribbled orders, X-ray technicians had maneuvered their huge machines down the hall and lab techs had hurried in and out, drawing blood.

  Layered on top of everything else were Quinn's questions the night before, asking about the men she worked with. Whether any of them could be responsible for her break-in.

  She hated looking at her male co-workers and wondering if one of them had been in her apartment. But pictures of them in her bedroom spooled through her brain every time she saw one of them.

  Then Dr. Hunter and his intern, James Dietrich, stepped into the station.

  "Do you have any lab results for my patient?" he asked without any preamble.

  Honestly, what had she ever found attractive about Hunter? Yeah, the new attending had a good body – he was an orthopod. They all had good bodies. But upon further review, his personality cancelled out his good looks. He looked through the nurses as if
they existed only to do his bidding. As far as she knew, the word 'please' was not in his vocabulary.

  He wasn't even nice to his intern. James was terminally shy and awkward. He was a little clumsy, too. But Hunter's voice was whip-sharp when he spoke to James. Full of contempt, or at least what sounded like contempt.

  The same kind of faintly veiled scorn he had for the nurses.

  Tessa stood up and turned to him with a smile fixed on her mouth. "Which patient would that be, Dr. Hunter? We have three of yours on the floor."

  His mouth tightened. "The one I just admitted. Mr...." He paused. "Mr. Johnson."

  "Mr. Johnston?" It was impossible not to emphasize the correct pronunciation of the patient's name. "Let me check."

  James stood behind Hunter, and Tessa wondered suddenly how he felt about Hunter. About the way the surgeon treated him.

  She doubted anyone knew. She'd never actually heard James speak.

  Tessa clicked open the computer and saw several messages from the lab. "Looks like it's here. I'll move it to Mr. Johnston's file."

  "Just print a copy for me," he said impatiently. "Move it to his file later."

  Tessa's mouth tightened, but she bit her tongue. Hunter knew perfectly well they weren't supposed to print lab reports unless it was absolutely necessary. And a doctor who was too impatient to wait the thirty seconds it would take to put the lab results in his patient's file? Didn't fall under the category of 'necessary'.

  But she printed it out and handed it to him, then grabbed a York Peppermint Patty and stood up. None of his patients were hers, thank goodness. Only three hours into her shift and she was already running on caffeine and sugar. If she had to deal with Hunter tonight, she might say something she'd regret.

  As she stepped away from the nurse's station, James Dietrich was blocking the way. "Excuse me," she murmured.

  He jumped back and stumbled on a chair. His face flushed bright red as he steadied it, then his eyes flashed to hers for just a moment before they returned to the chart Dr. Hunter held. Tessa almost felt sorry for him.

  Doctors were supposed to be able to communicate with their patients. Hard to do if you were too shy to speak. When she saw James glance over at her again, she gave him a smile before walking down the hall to check on her patients.

  Must be hard for someone like James to have an abrasive, inconsiderate asshole as his assigned doctor. But his rotation would only last for three months, then he moved on. Tessa hoped that next time he'd get someone who could help him.

  ***

  It was after eleven thirty before she was able to leave. She stepped into another humid evening, and even though she'd texted Quinn and told him not to wait for her, she glanced around the parking lot, hoping he'd waited anyway. When nothing caught her eye, she shifted her bag and headed toward her apartment.

  Stupid to feel so disappointed. She'd told him not to wait. Of course he wasn't here.

  She'd reached the end of the parking lot when a car pulled up next to her. The window rolled down and Quinn said, "Hey, Tessa. Hop in."

  Her heart fluttered. She actually felt it skip a beat in her chest. Before she could think, she grabbed the door handle and slid into the car.

  It had to be his work car. A laptop computer rested on a shelf between the driver and passenger seats, and a red light sat on the dashboard. A hand radio receiver was hooked into the dash. When Tessa closed the door, Quinn shut the lid of the computer and smiled at her.

  "Sorry about the car. I didn't have time to go back and switch it out for my own car."

  "That's okay." She glanced around, curious. "This is exciting. I've never been in a police car."

  He muffled a snort of laughter. "Trust me, they're not all that. Be thankful you haven't experienced one in its full glory."

  He stopped at a red light and the car hummed beneath them. "Thank you for waiting for me," she finally said.

  "No problem. I wanted to be with...wanted to make sure everything was okay at your apartment."

  Her heart began to thud, slamming against her chest. "I'm glad you will be. I didn't want to do it alone." She'd been dreading walking into her apartment ever since she hadn't seen him in the parking lot.

  He reached over and squeezed her hand, then let her go when the light turned green. "I turned your case over to Robbery today. They're going to talk to the maintenance people, check to make sure your key is where it's supposed to be in the office, check for similar crimes. I gave your case to Craig Schultz. He'll need to talk to you at some point. He's a good guy and a hell of a detective – my brother Connor used to work with him. If anyone can figure out who broke into your apartment, it’s Schultz."

  "Thank you. Although I'm sure you would have done a fine job."

  "Not my expertise. No dead bodies," he said. Then he glanced at her guiltily. "Sorry. Didn't mean to sound so cavalier about murder."

  "It's okay." She smiled. "I understand. I wouldn't want anyone to hear how nurses talk about some of their patients."

  He glanced over at her. Neither of them spoke, but all kinds of messages were exchanged. They both had stressful jobs. They used humor to deal with them. As well as other things.

  The other things had her heart pounding as Quinn pulled into the parking lot behind his apartment building. When he took her bag as she got out of the car, his hand brushed hers. Sparks shot up her arm and sizzled across her skin.

  "You ready?"

  His voice was lower. More gravelly. As if he'd felt the same thing. "Yeah."

  As they walked toward her building, she looked up at the front window of her apartment. She'd left a small lamp on, and it cast a faint yellow glow through the window. Memories of the previous night made her shiver.

  Quinn took her hand and twined their fingers together. "You hungry? You want to get something to eat first?"

  "No, I don't want to put it off." She realized she'd been standing still, staring up at her apartment. She squared her shoulders and started walking, still clinging to his hand. Glancing at him, she asked, "Do you want to order a pizza?"

  Eating something in her apartment would make things seem more normal. More like her usual routine. Having Quinn there would be an added bonus.

  "You sure you want me to stick around?"

  "Yes," she said. Too quickly. "Feeding you is the least I can do after all you did yesterday."

  "You don't owe me anything," he said quietly.

  He wasn't going to make this easy for her, she realized. If she wanted him to stay, she'd have to say so. "I'd like you to stay," she said softly. "Unless you have something you need to do."

  "No! No, I want to stay. I just didn't want you to feel obligated."

  "God, we're both so polite," she said without thinking. She didn't want 'polite' with Quinn. She wanted something far more elemental. More raw. More exposed.

  "Doing the dance," he murmured. He smiled, squeezed her hand and let go as he opened the door.

  She unlocked the inner door and started through, and Quinn put his hand on her arm. When she looked up at him, he said, "A polite guy would let you go first. Good manners, with the added benefit of allowing me to watch your ass all the way up the stairs. But I'm going first this time." In case someone is waiting up there.

  She swallowed. "Thank you."

  He hadn't waited for her to answer. He'd stepped in front of her and started up. After a moment, she followed him.

  And smiled. Her eyes were at just the right level to watch the pull of fabric across his ass, the bunch and release of muscles. No wonder men liked to follow women up the stairs.

  He slowed as he approached her floor, and she almost bumped into him. Grabbing the railing, she stepped down as he curled his hand around his gun. He glanced over his shoulder. "Stay here," he said in a low voice.

  Quinn stepped onto the landing, his hand hovering over his gun. He disappeared from view for a few moments, then reappeared. "No one here. Come on up."

  Her hand shook as she inserted the key in her
new lock. It stuck, and as she was jiggling it, Quinn put his hand on her arm. "Let me," he said. "And I want you to wait in the hall until I've checked things out."

  He wasn't asking. He was telling her. At work, she had to take orders. In her personal life? Not so much. This time, though, she knew it was for her own safety, so she nodded.

  The key turned and the lock clicked open. He drew his gun and said, "Step over to the side. And stay there."

  Quinn disappeared into her shadowed apartment, and Tessa chewed on the inside of her cheek as she waited, listening. She didn't hear a thing.

  Her heart began to race. It couldn't take this long to check her tiny apartment. What if someone had been waiting for her with a knife? What if Quinn had been surprised? Hurt?

  Maybe he was bleeding on the floor. Maybe the intruder was getting ready to stab him again. Finish him off.

  Quinn stepped into the hall and buckled the holster strap over his gun. "It's good."

  She threw himself against him, cinching her arms around his neck, fixing her mouth to his. He staggered backward, then his arms surrounded her with a crushing grip. He opened his mouth to her, used one hand to hold her head while their tongues stroked and caressed.

  His taste exploded in her mouth. Her body began throbbing, already preparing for him, and she stroked her hands over his back. She traced his spine, slid her hand down to squeeze his ass, pressed her fingers against his back. His muscles rippled beneath her touch, and she wanted to feel her skin against his.

  To make sure he was in one piece. Alive.

  His breath tickled her cheek, and a tiny groan escaped from his mouth when she ran her tongue over his lips. He tasted like coffee and chocolate. As if he'd eaten a candy bar and washed it down with liquid caffeine. He pulled her tight against him, and the hard ridge of his erection pressed into her belly. He slid one leg between hers, and her knees wobbled.

  The kiss went on and on, growing more desperate. She ached for him. She wanted to tear his clothes off, run her hands over his skin and muscles. Over his ass that she'd watched all the way up the stairs. She wanted to feel him shudder beneath her touch.

 

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