DISCONNECT (The Bening Files Book 2)

by Rachel Trautmiller

  She shook her head and stepped inside the building. A blast of warm air hit her face. “Typical.”

  “That's better,” he whispered. His breath hit below her ear and sent tingling to her toes. “For a minute there, I thought I might have to find a whole box of Kleenex.”

  A smile crept onto her face. How had she ever lived without his constant presence? “Jerk.”

  “I try to arrive on time and deliver.” A straight row of white teeth appeared where his lips usually rested. He lifted the bag in his hand. “Feel like eating the best hamburger you'll ever have?”

  That sounded like heaven. “That your way of asking for a date?”

  He chuckled. “Would you say yes?”

  Such a dangerous road to travel. Thoughts of a future that couldn’t exist until they caught this guy. Perhaps, not even then. “Maybe.”

  “Burned by the half yes, half no answer. Don't worry. When I ask you for that date, you'll know. And I'll leave my inner jerk at home.”

  A shot of something hot made it to her stomach. Yes, when. She liked the sound of it. “He's kind of interesting. Maybe I'd rather go on a date with him. As long as said date isn’t at a nursing home.”

  “That's the sass talking.” A hand on the small of her back guided her forward.

  “We're a package deal. You want me, you get her, too.”

  “Relax, we’re here to get out of our heads for a while. I come here when I need to think.”

  “Relaxing is not her forte.”

  “Fair enough.” He led them to the front desk and the woman sitting behind it. “Hey, Cindy.”

  The blonde—who would’ve guessed?—glanced up at them and then did a double take. The warm smile on her face conveyed a dreamy type of want. All of it aimed at Robinson.

  Oh, brother. Did Amanda wear that expression around him?

  Probably. Because you are a big, fat idiot.

  Miss Sass needed to go away for one minute. Maybe longer.

  “Well, Baker Jackson, what are you doing here so late?” The other woman fluttered long lashes against flawless skin. Flashy makeup made her hazel eyes stand out. The gala was the only reason Amanda wore more than blush and mascara right now. And most of it was probably long gone.

  Robinson brought her closer to the desk, his arm around her waist. The heat of his appendage singed her skin and sent goosebumps running for every spare inch of her flesh. Idiot didn’t even scratch the surface, here.

  She tried to wiggle out of his grasp. It tightened, trapping her between his arm and one side of his chest. He’d set their food and his drink on the counter and leaned on the Formica surface.

  “We're here to see Lilly.” He threw a smile toward Cindy.

  They were? Guess she should've known that.

  Cindy arched a manicured eyebrow. “You know visiting hours end at eight, right?”

  “Sure do, but I was hoping you could make an exception since it's my birthday.”

  Cindy scrunched her lips to one side, in a seductive pout, as if Amanda weren't present. “And here I am without a gift.”

  Miss Sass wanted to make a scene, but Amanda clamped her teeth tight and didn't move.

  Robinson waved the thought away. “I'm getting too old for gifts, anyway.”

  The other woman was quiet a moment, while she tapped one manicured finger against her lips. This girl was exactly the type of woman Robinson flocked toward.

  Except he hadn’t brought anyone around since Kara. He hadn’t even hinted toward his love life. Amanda should have picked up on that, a long time ago.

  “I'll make an exception this one time.” She placed a clipboard, with a pen attached, in front of them. “You’ll have to sign in.”

  “Thanks, doll. I owe you.” He scribbled their names and grabbed his items from the counter.

  Then he steered Amanda down a long hallway, toward the back of the building.

  “Doll? You are the biggest flirt.” She whispered. Then she shoved her elbow into his ribs. That wasn’t jealousy dripping from her words, just annoyance.

  Not at all. “It's not even close to your birthday.”

  He opened a door and ushered her into a room with muted lights. “How would you know?”

  “You’re kidding, right? I practically planned the party Jordan and McKenna threw for you last spring.” Because her friends had been preoccupied. Jordan had started the process, but been unable to finish.

  Shock splashed across his face. He set their food on a bedside table, near a vinyl-covered loveseat. He did the same with the cup in her hands. “You weren’t there.”

  She’d had every intension of attending the gathering. “A double homicide, in Lockwood, took up most of my evening.” Catsky had been pretty grumpy about being called out on a weekend. He’d pissed and moaned until Amanda had found an excuse to send him home.

  “In that case, I forgive you. You missed a great party.” He stepped next to the hospital bed and waved her over.

  It held a woman of maybe forty, her dark hair brushed against her head. An older version of Ariana. A scar ran across the front of her scalp, where stylish bangs might have rested. The pale color of her skin contrasted with the blue sheets. A ventilator, in the corner, hummed as it pumped oxygen into the woman's mouth, through a clear tube.

  “Your sister?” The words got stuck in her throat. She couldn’t imagine the amount of hope it took for him to come and visit regularly. Dealing with those emotions, alone.

  She should have been a better friend.

  “Lilly, meet Amanda. Amanda, this is Lilly.”

  Was she supposed to greet the other woman? What would Amanda want if the positions were reversed?

  “Older or younger?”

  “Older. Bossy, too.”

  She licked her lips, stepped up to the bed, beside Robinson and then touched the other woman's arm. “Hi, Lilly. I'm a friend of Robbie's.”

  “My extremely beautiful friend, who likes to point out all my flaws, but knows I'm a jerk and somehow sticks around.” He threw her a wink. This was normal for him. So normal, he could crack jokes. It was both amazing and sad. And so Robinson.

  Where did he find the time to work, raise his niece, visit his sister and her mom and still remain hopeful?

  “Your brother is a pervert.” A handsome one she couldn't keep from her mind, as of late.

  “I prefer irresistible.”

  Mm-hmm. Which is why she was here. “He's also delusional. Not great starting attributes for a stand-in parent.”

  “Amanda doesn't play fair.” His eyes held hers, something sizzling in the air as if a fairy had thrown pixie dust over them.

  “Your brother has a girlfriend everywhere he goes. There's got to be some cult following, but it requires a full head of platinum blonde hair and huge boobs.”

  He shook his head and turned toward her, one hand going to his hip. The motion parted his tuxedo jacket, revealing the crisp white shirt and cummerbund, beneath. His matching bowtie was gone, the top button of his shirt, undone. A hint of that spicy cologne floated toward her nose.

  The sizzling became a full crackling fire. She concentrated on his sister's still form. “Maybe you could tell me if I have a chance against all of these Barbie dolls.”

  “No contest.”

  Those soft words, filled with deep emotion, snapped her attention back to him.

  The draw to move closer, overtook her brain. They were standing in his sister's room. Even a woman in a coma deserved common decency. She tilted her head. “No?”

  “None.”

  That one word had her heart developing limbs and doing what had to be an Irish jig. The powerful magnet, between them, had her feet closing the small gap. Warmth radiated from his body and into the palm she placed on his chest, near his heart. The steady rhythm vibrated through her fingers as he wrapped his arms around her.

  Adding complications to an already messy situation. Check.

  “Think I could win the lottery like that? Just show up with
the winning numbers and claim them as mine? Never even buy a ticket.”

  He removed the band from her hair and ran his fingers through it. The magnet locked tight, the sound loud and final. Right. Comfortable.

  A loopy half smile snagged his lips. “Stranger things have happened.”

  “Like sneaking women into your sister's room for a romantic moment?” Which meant she should redefine romantic, but couldn't dream up a better non-date. “Or visiting my mom.”

  “Always so sassy.” Seriousness covered his face and those eyes never left hers. “I wanted to make sure she was safe. The Alzheimer’s makes her an easy target.”

  It did. The thought squeezed her heart.

  “Every time I went back, she remembered me.”

  “That's...” The sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. A man who thought to look in on her mother and make her laugh after the day she'd had, deserved more than this convoluted mess. “Thank you, Robbie. It means a lot to me. Most people get anxious about the idea of not knowing when the Alzheimer’s will kick in.”

  But even that day, a few weeks ago, he hadn’t seemed ruffled when her mother transported to another time. Just stepped in and been exactly what they needed.

  “Amanda, I'm, I...”

  That same heat from last week, outside Home Depot, enveloped them in a small, private world. The possibility of those three words had never scared and exhilarated her so much, all in the space of a nanosecond. What would she do if they floated over her, on a deep voice she'd come to enjoy hearing.

  You'd say it back.

  No. Love didn't happen that fast. Did it?

  Frustration was quick to take over the sense of wonder on his face. “What I'm trying to say is, you've ruined me for other women. In the last year, I don't think I've had one conversation, with a woman, where I didn't compare her to you.”

  So, he’d been thinking about her. “I’m not perfect.”

  He shook his head, his lips in a tight line. “Give me a little credit. I’m not a kid who’s working on convincing his first love to run away and elope.”

  The look on his face said he had a lot of meaningful things to say. Robinson didn't do eloquent, on a whim. Three years had taught her he was an all or nothing guy. No drama. No lies. Straightforward, but full of empathy.

  “What are you trying to convince me of?” She held her breath, her heart bashing against her ribcage.

  “I care about you.” The words floored through her system and settled near her crazy heart. Deft fingers played in her hair. “I'm not trying to rush things. I just can't go back to being only someone you work with.”

  “Then, don't.” Please.

  The stubble on his chin prickled the palm of her hand as she slid it over his cheek and then to the back of his neck. He didn't resist her gentle tug, but lowered his lips over hers.

  The contact of skin on skin, even that small amount, set off fireworks behind her eyes. A shot of adrenaline zipped through her system like an overdose of caffeine. His lips moved in tandem with hers, a slow dance of give and take.

  After a second, he deepened it. All of Charlotte could have crumbled around them. The only thing she cared about was his strong arms around her. And the sensation of his mouth devouring hers, as if this one moment might be it.

  He pulled her closer and she forgot to breathe. Wow, didn't cover this. This went way beyond attraction.

  Could you love someone with the type of abandon that made moments seem like years? Did love erase everything a person knew and pave a new road that looked winding and treacherous, but worth the effort?

  Potent and dangerous, given their surroundings. She broke away from his distracting mouth. Shaking hands slid down his chest. Where they hers?

  “You didn't feed me that burger you promised.”

  “Burger?” He looked a little dazed, his lips parted as he sucked in a breath.

  That was...nice. Better than nice. A flash of heat went through her. If she went back in for a nibble of that bottom lip, would it sate the transparent need on his face? Or cease the shaking of her hands?

  Never one to turn away from a challenge, she touched her lips to his. That zing took no time at all to fill her body. “Yeah, a hamburger. The one that's supposed to be the best I've ever eaten.”

  One more nibble ought to do her. For about ten seconds. Before she could do anything, he pulled her against him and kissed her. Hard. All the need on his face transferred through the mouth over hers. That bossy mouth, which both irritated, intrigued and surprised her. Frown or smile. Harsh or sweet. She wanted all of it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Robinson's mind and body woke, by slow degrees. The former grasped for reasons why his neck hurt as if someone had put it in a vice and twisted. The numbness in his left arm, had his mind registering it as missing. Something hard dug into his calves and a moderate amount of weight rested on his torso.

  The whirl of a machine came from somewhere in front of him, along with a faint beeping. Light speared under his lashes and wiggled them open. Tan walls stared at him. Cards filled one of them.

  Lilly's room.

  A head, filled with brown hair, lay on his chest. Amanda's slender arm bent at the elbow, her hand jammed under the cheek pressed near his heart. Soft snores came from her parted lips. Wedged in the crease of the love seat, most of her body was pinned against his side, her legs curled beneath his propped feet. That shiny hair fanned out across him, a shampoo commercial in the making. His tuxedo jacket lay across them.

  He flexed his left hand, hoping to restore blood flow without waking Amanda. He did the same with his feet. With the return of circulation, sharp pinpoints of pain radiated through his veins.

  The watch on his wrist read six-thirty. Judging from the dim light, filtering into the room, it was early morning and not evening. The nurses hadn't done rounds yet, or he would have woken up sooner.

  Sleeping here hadn't been the plan. The last thing he remembered was talking about nothing important, eating and laughing. Feeling a little bit like a kid, again. As if he hadn't seen some nasty things in his career and she'd never become the target of a madman.

  Amanda stirred in her sleep.

  Waking up next to this woman erased the crimp in his neck and ache in his knees. It scrubbed his heart clean and left hope and trust in its wake.

  He always assumed when and if he fell for someone, it would be a slow process, filled with numerous dates and time spent learning what made the other person tick. So there were no surprises. From the first moment with Amanda, his brain had been scrambled. Up was down. And not knowing everything was a game he couldn't resist.

  Time to admit he liked it that way. He brushed a strand of hair from her face. She stirred, but didn’t open her eyes.

  They still had a lot of ground to cover. Last night—this morning—his words had gotten stuck. The truth had lodged like a hard piece of candy, in his windpipe.

  He loved Amanda with the type of recklessness that made it easy to forget her recent breakup with Eric and the terrorist hunting her down.

  The paper, filled with names, sitting on the bedside table, proved they couldn’t ignore the latter. And the former… He didn’t need any time to figure out that his feelings for this woman, weren’t borne of circumstance throwing them together, in tragic ways.

  During the course of their working relationship, he’d gotten to know her. Seen how she operated during stressful situations. He’d come to love her little quirks. And he needed her quick wit and snappy attitude. Her smiles. Her confidence in and outside of her work.

  Would she wake up with regrets this morning?

  “A.J.” He rubbed her arm and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “It's six-thirty.”

  “Ten more minutes,” she mumbled. Those snores came, again, as she snuggled in deeper. She removed her arm from beneath her head and flung it above his hip bones.

  His body responded to the contact, in ways he couldn't control. Breathe. In. Out. />
  A gasp came from her mouth. She half sat up, the majority of her torso stuck between himself and the sofa. A cascade of dark hair fell over one shoulder. Those beautiful eyes were half closed. “What time did you say it was?”

  “Six-thirty.”

  “No. No.” Panic bloomed on her face. She tried to climb over him. Her left leg bashed into his thigh, before she corrected it. It headed for softer regions of his body, anyway. He caught her wrist, in hopes of balancing her. With his free hand, he managed to block the knee headed toward his male anatomy. The motion knocked Amanda off kilter and she toppled toward the floor. He reached for her, but came up with air. And she met the hard tile with her tailbone.

  Smooth. He sat up. “I guess good morning is in order. You okay?”

  She rubbed the wrist he’d grabbed, her focus on something at his sister’s bedside.

  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “What?” Amanda looked at him then. Her voice had a husky, still sleeping, quality. One cheek held a reddish area, full of creases, from where she’d slept on her hand.

  Robinson touched her wrist. “Are you hurt?”

  “No.” She dropped her hands, her gaze straying back to the bed. “Just a little fuzzy feeling. I’m usually not human before two cups of coffee.”

  He’d make sure to remember that. “You can’t call the stuff you drink, coffee. It’s more like cream and sugar, with a touch of espresso.”

  She rubbed an eye and yawned. Not a hint of unease resided on her face. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

  He smiled. He’d be her pillow, any day of the week. “Who knew you were so boring?”

  She turned back to him. A smirk jerked one corner of her lips, upward. “Way to keep The Jerk alive.”

  “Anything for you.”

  Amanda shook her head. “I've got a squad meeting, in an hour.”

  “I'll drive you back to your car.”

  She froze. “Are you seeing this, Robbie?”

  “What?” He scanned the room. Had their guy somehow snuck in and left a present? The idea sent terror, racing through his blood stream. He’d left them wide open.

  Nothing looked out of place.