Out of Eden

by Beth Ciotta

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  He sounded sincere, but she was distracted by his uptight aura. “I’m overdressed.”

  “Not for Wong’s, but—”

  “We’re not going to Wong’s?” Was he blowing her off for work? Had he learned something about Travis? Heard something from County?

  “Mrs. Carmichael called me last minute, said her arthritis has flared up. She’s not up for a night out so I offered to bring over pizza. And, I promised Maddie we’d watch a movie with them. I should’ve called you, but—”

  “You were swamped and rushed. It’s okay.” She blew out a relieved breath. Not Wong’s, but not work. “Sounds like fun. I’ll just change into something more casual.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t.” He swept an appreciative gaze over her body, the dress, the shoes. “You’re a pleasant distraction from an unpleasant day.”

  “What a nice thing to say.” Blushing, she broached the safest subject regarding his day. “This thing with your sister, do you want to talk about it?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Oh.” She waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t.

  He nodded toward his SUV. “Ready?”

  Flustered, she abandoned talk of his sister and noted his faded jeans and pullover. She glanced down at her spiky red heels. “All right. But if Shy wants to play fetch, these shoes are coming off.”

  “Bare feet. Red toenails,” he said as she nabbed her purse and locked the door. “Sexy.”

  Even though he was preoccupied, his attraction to her was fierce. She felt it with every fiber of her being as he wrapped an arm around her waist and escorted her to his Aspen. Her own body tingled in response, but, although she felt connected physically, an emotional chasm stretched between them. He had secrets. She had secrets.

  Jack dismissed Officer Hooper with a nod. The squad car drove off, and Kylie wrestled with guilt as Jack helped her into the passenger seat of his SUV. He wouldn’t be happy when she confessed she’d withheld information. The longer she put off telling him Travis had skipped the country, the angrier he’d be. She thought about the plane ticket and wad of cash locked in the store’s safe and the guilt intensified.

  Hands trembling, Kylie fumbled with her seat belt as Jack rounded the vehicle.

  He slid her a glance as he slid behind the wheel. “Hear from Travis today?”

  Was she that transparent? “No.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly. He hadn’t called so she hadn’t actually heard from him. Her cheeks flushed all the same. She fished in her purse for a mint, lipstick, anything to avoid making eye contact. “Did you hear from County Police?”

  “They haven’t found any evidence to suggest foul play.”

  Kylie suppressed a gleeful squeal. “Why don’t you sound happy about that? It’s good news, right? Means I witnessed a hoax, right?”

  “Maybe. They’re still investigating.”

  “Oh.” Clearly he wasn’t in a talkative mood. Regardless, she needed more clarity. “Did you hear from U.S. Marshal Service?”

  “No.”

  He keyed the ignition and backed out of the drive.

  She swished red gloss over her lips. “Would you tell me if you did?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you tell me what they said?”

  After a weighty pause, she looked over and caught his enigmatic gaze. “Depends.”

  “On?”

  “Whether I want that stuff in your head.”

  She knew his intentions were good, but unlike the last time he’d uttered that phrase, she didn’t feel protected as much as manipulated. “Anyone ever told you you’re a control freak?”

  “Takes one to know one,” he said, eyes back on the road.

  She grunted. “Sounds like something Spenser would say.”

  “Speaking of Spense…”

  Uh-oh.

  “He called me today.”

  Crap. Kylie clasped her hands in her lap so as not to wring them. She, too, focused on the road. “Did you tell him about the water tower?”

  “No.”

  “My run-in with the goons?”

  “Why worry him when it could be nothing? I’ll wait till County weighs in.”

  “Did you tell him about…us?”

  “Not the right time.”

  That was a relief, except she realized suddenly that he’d not only kept her in the dark about certain things, but he’d also danced around the truth with his best friend. “Even though you’re an honest man, you’re not always honest—in a full disclosure kind of way.”

  “No, I’m not.” He cast her a look. “That a problem?”

  She didn’t know. Her fantasy man was becoming more real by the day. Her stomach fluttered, and not in a good way. “Maybe.”

  Jack didn’t comment.

  Kylie wrestled with the concept of loving a man who kept secrets. “So what did you and Spenser talk about?”

  “He mentioned his conversation with the mayor. He wanted to know if you were all right. I told him you were a pain in the ass, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

  Kylie snorted.

  Jack cracked his first smile of the evening. “It was that or the truth.”

  “Which is?”

  “You’re a pain in the ass and I’m scared to death of you.”

  Kylie’s jaw dropped.

  “Scratch that,” he said as he pulled into Mrs. Carmichael’s driveway. “I’m scared of loving you.”

  His words slammed into her, seizing her breath, boggling her mind. Was he speaking literally or hypothetically? She couldn’t suppress the question. “Do you?” she squeaked as Madeline and Shy came racing across the lawn. “Love me?”

  He caught her gaze just as kid and dog bopped in front of the driver’s window, demanding his attention. “Maybe.”

  JACK SPENT THE MAJORITY of the evening questioning his sanity. Knowing how he felt about Kylie and admitting it aloud were two different beasts. Only he hadn’t admitted the truth. He’d just blurted “Maybe.” A dumb-ass thing to say, but he didn’t want to lie and he didn’t want to commit, so he’d straddled the fence.

  Dumb-ass.

  Why the hell had he brought up love to begin with? Except, she was a pleasant distraction from an unpleasant day. She’d stolen his breath when she’d opened the door. So pretty, so sweet. So damned fascinating.

  Even though he suspected she was holding something back about Travis Martin, he was more intrigued than pissed. He liked that she fiercely defended someone she considered a friend, even though he questioned her judgment. He admired her inclination to trust, even though he thought it made her vulnerable. She possessed a curious mix of strength and sensitivity.

  Yes, she’d been a pain in the ass the past few days, but she’d also befriended Shy and defended his sister. In the past, she’d forfeited a dream trip to be with her ailing grandpa and she’d depleted her savings to bail her grandma out of debt.

  Kylie was kind. Good. And yes, he loved her. Problem was, he didn’t trust that love. So he’d held back. He knew she wouldn’t leave it at maybe. She’d want an explanation. He didn’t blame her. That conversation lurked in the background for the next few hours.

  Amazing that he was still able to enjoy himself. But he did. They all did.

  Even though the mystery of Travis Martin dogged him, even though he worried that an element of the mob had infiltrated Eden, and even though he was worried about Kylie’s safety and his sister’s emotional well-being…this evening had been an unexpected delight.

  Sheer joy had pumped through his blood as he’d watched Kylie and his niece playing a canine version of tag with Shy. Just as promised, Kylie had kicked off her shoes. She’d also kicked up a lot of fun and lively conversation, connecting as keenly with Maddie as Mrs. Carmichael.

  Jack had soaked in the sounds of laughter, the feeling of family as they’d gobbled pizza and watched a flick featuring a superhero dog. The only thing missing was Jessie.

  Jack tucked his niece in
to Mrs. Carmichael’s spare bed. He helped her say her prayers, swallowing a surge of mixed emotions when Maddie blessed her dad—even though he doesn’t love Mommy and me. Maybe Jessie was right. Maybe he should steer clear of the courthouse tomorrow. Jack wasn’t sure if he could see Frank Cortez without inflicting bodily harm.

  “Mrs. Carmichael said it’s okay if Shy sleeps with me if it’s okay with you,” Maddie said, rousing Jack from his musings.

  “Sure thing, sweet pea.” He called the dog, trying to get her to curl at the end of the bed. Instead, Shy curled up in Maddie’s arms. “Not sure your mom would approve of that, hon.”

  “Maybe you could square it with her.”

  “Hmm.” He bit back a grin. He’d have to remember to watch his phrasing with this kid. She remembered everything.

  Maddie smiled and yawned. “Good night, Uncle Jack.”

  “Good night, baby.” He kissed her on the forehead, then left.

  Kylie was waiting just outside the door. She had that dreamy look women get when they’re charmed by an endearing sight. On the one hand, it made him uncomfortable. On the other…it made him want to kiss her senseless.

  She hooked his arm and drew him down the hall. “You’re great with her, Jack.”

  “So are you. I can’t believe how many times you made her laugh,” he said softly. “You teased her out of her shell.”

  Kylie shrugged off the compliment. “I do okay with kids.”

  “You do okay with lonely widows, too.” Mrs. Carmichael craved attention and was prone to overdramatize. Kylie just rolled with the punches.

  “I’ve had a lot of practice with Grandma.”

  They reached the bottom of the stairs and Kylie touched his arm. “I came up to tell you I promised to roll curlers into Mrs. Carmichael’s hair. She said her fingers are too stiff.”

  Jack raised a brow, lowered his voice. “They didn’t look stiff when she was dealing the deck for that game of Old Maid.”

  “I think she just wants some girl time. I’ll be fifteen minutes tops.”

  “I’ll wait outside. I need to check in with Jessie.”

  “Then we’ll go,” she said.

  “Then we’ll talk,” he said.

  “Maybe we should sleep on it.”

  “Maybe.”

  The word hung in the air as she left to tend to Mrs. Carmichael.

  Jack moved outside, clueless as to what he was going to say to Kylie whether they spoke tonight, tomorrow, or next week. How the hell do you say, “I love you, but I’m not right for you.”

  “Dammit.”

  Frustrated, he dialed his sister’s cell.

  “Hi, Jack. Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s great. I—”

  “Hold on,” she shouted over the background noise. “I can’t hear you. Let me step outside.”

  “It’s late,” Jack said, raising his voice to be heard. “Just move to a quieter part of the bar.” The last thing he wanted was for Jessie, or any woman for that matter, to be loitering in the dark, alone.

  “Okay, okay, Mr. Worrywart. I’ll move away from the TVs. Hold on. There. That’s better. How did it go with Madeline?”

  “Just tucked her in. Her tummy’s full of pizza and hopefully she’s having sweet dreams about a superhero dog.”

  “Is Shy sleeping with her?”

  “It’s only for one night.”

  “She said that last night when the dog snuck into our room.”

  Jack gazed up at the quarter moon, smiled.

  “It’s fine. Really. Shy makes her happy. I want Madeline to be happy, Jack.”

  “She’s doing okay. It’s you I’m worried about.”

  “Starting tomorrow, I’ll have a new life. I just have to get through the divorce proceeding. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re coming. You can restrain me if I go for Frank’s jugular.”

  Jack chuckled. “I was counting on you to restrain me.”

  “Are you kidding? I’d cheer you on.” She lowered her voice and vented. “With each passing minute, with every scandalous image that permeates my brain, I despise that son of a bitch even more.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “Part of me wants to blot him from my mind forever, never see him or speak to him again. But the other part, the part that has to live with the betrayal and the fact that word is spreading through Eden regarding his indiscretions…that part wants revenge. Almost makes me wish one of these mobster wannabes was for real.”

  A muscle twitched in Jack’s tense jaw. “What mobster wannabes?”

  “Hey, sweetheart!” he heard someone shout in a lame Italian accent. “How about some gabagool?”

  “I’m on break!” she shouted back. “So annoying,” she said to Jack. “What is gabagool, anyway? Customers have been spouting slang from Omertà all night. A few even dressed the part. Baggy trousers and boxy, short-sleeved shirts. Gaudy gold chain necklaces and pinkie rings.”

  Jack’s past and present collided. His gut kicked. “What the hell?”

  “It all stemmed from Kylie’s claim that she witnessed a mob hit in the park,” Jessie said. “The story spread like wildfire. No one believes it, but they’re sure having fun with it. Especially Max, J.J. and Mr. Keystone. Even Boone got into the spirit. He’s showing back-to-back episodes of Omertà on the two mounted televisions. Grown men playing mobsters,” she said in a disgusted voice. “Nothing like putting thugs on a pedestal. All I can say is if even half of what’s on that show reflects reality, I don’t know how you lasted so long in New York City.”

  Jack massaged his temples as a dozen gruesome memories attacked his brain.

  “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah. Just trying to wrap my mind around Max and the boys dressed like gangsters.” A partial truth.

  “They’re not alone. Fifteen or so other dimwits dressed the part. The place is packed. Everyone’s not in mobster garb, but everyone is watching the show and spewing mobster slang. I don’t even know some of these people. Wanda pointed out that a few folks always trickle in early for the festival.”

  “Especially the men driving in the collectible wheels for the car and truck show,” Jack said. “Happens every year.” He imagined them easily falling into the mobster fan-fest. Even Ziffel glorified that damned show.

  “I never paid attention. I guess I was too absorbed in my own life. Anyway, any two of these wiseguys could’ve been the ones who spooked Kylie. For what it’s worth, I keep listening for one of them to slip up and brag about it.”

  “I appreciate that, Jess, but if you do hear something, don’t engage, just pass the information on to me.”

  “You don’t think they’re actually dangerous?”

  “I don’t know what to think.” The wannabe craze certainly supported his role-playing scenario. Logic, based on the town’s obsession with Omertà, suggested Kylie had been the victim of a fantasy-game-gone-wrong. End of story. Maybe Travis Martin and the WITSEC angle were totally unconnected. It would sure as hell be a welcome coincidence.

  Jessie sighed. “I’m sorry I rambled. It’s just…I’m over the mob thing.”

  “You and me both.”

  “At least it’s distracting me from the divorce. And at least they’re not gossiping about me. Not tonight anyway. I have to get back to work, Jack.”

  “You get off at one, right?”

  “Right.”

  “I’m going to ask Officer Hooper to follow you home.”

  “That’s silly.”

  “Indulge me.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “No.”

  “Didn’t think so. Have a good night with Kylie, Mr. Worrywart.”

  In spite of his wary mood, Jack smiled. “I think this was the most you’ve ever talked to me in one session.”

  “I know. Weird.”

  “Nice. Good night, sis.”

  “Good night.”

  Jack disconnected, called Hooper, then signed off just as Kylie moved out of the shadows.
“Everything good?” she asked.

  “As good as can be expected.” He thought about sharing Jessie’s description of the mobster wannabes, but he didn’t want Kylie thinking the town was making fun of her. His inclination was to shield her from hurt—whether she liked it or not.

  “Ready to go?” she asked softly.

  “Sure.” He grasped her elbow and guided her through the moonlit yard.

  “The 24/7 protection thing. I guess that means you’re staying over.”

  “Have a problem with that?”

  “Sort of.”

  Jack backed her against the passenger door of his SUV. “Talk to me.”

  “It’s just…that love thing. I’m confused, too. I mean, I have some concerns. About me and my illusions. About you and your…mind set. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to tackle you and have wild sex. Because I really liked it. The sex, that is. I don’t want you to think I’m using you, just because, you know, it was great, but I want more. With you. Sex,” she clarified. “If we sleep in the same house I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself. Truthfully, I don’t want to control myself. I’m sick to death of suppressing my feelings and urges. Right now, this moment, I want sex. Specifically with you. And if that makes me a slut, so be it.”

  Heart pounding, Jack squinted down at her. “Are you for real?”

  She shut her eyes, frowned. “I’m hopeless.”

  “Get in the car.”

  “What?”

  He pulled her aside, opened the door and lifted her in. “Buckle up.”

  She was lucky he didn’t take her right there—in the grass, against a tree, in the car. Sex wasn’t a cure-all, but it was sure as hell a Band-aid. “If you’re hopeless, I’m pathetic. What fired you up?” he asked, as he keyed the ignition.

  “Seeing you interact with a lonely widow, your bashful niece and a needy dog. You?”

  “Seeing you interact with a lonely widow, my bashful niece and a needy dog.”

  They reached across the seat at the same time, fingers brushing. Jack clasped her palm, experienced a rush of affection and lust. “Damn.”

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “About that talk—”

  “Later.”

  “Yeah.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT