Soft colors painted the walls, matching the cream furniture perfectly. Knickknacks adorned the walls, shelves, scattered even along the floor. One might say random things, but it fit well within the surroundings.
Homey. Commitment. Those things punctured his heart, as he couldn't stop looking around.
Shit. He was ready for it all.
But only with her. No other woman would do. She had ruined him for any other woman.
"I like your place. It's—"
"You came here to talk about my home." She raised a brow and glanced at the clock behind the couch.
A ticking time bomb. Evidently, she was going to time him right down to the last minute.
He sighed. "Why do you always insist on interrupting me?"
"You never have anything to say that I want to hear."
"If you would quit interrupting me, maybe I would say what you want to hear."
"You haven't said anything worthwhile yet," she pointed out with a sweet grin. But there was nothing sweet in her eyes.
"This isn't why I came here." He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Shocker. Doing the opposite of what you originally meant to do," she replied, her voice cracking slightly. "I think you said enough. Please leave."
"Wait." He held his hand up and gestured at the clock. "I still have four minutes left."
Tears settled in the corner of her eyes. Her gaze shifted between him and the clock before she crossed her arms and nodded.
"I never meant to hurt you. I got suckered into working vice that night. I wish I never did."
His fingers itched to touch her. To swipe a tender hand across her cheek and prevent any tears from falling.
"I did go into that bar looking for a prostitute to bust. I can't describe why I thought you were one. All I know is that when I saw you, everything else left my mind. I forgot I was a cop. I also knew, it almost didn't matter you were...that I thought you were...a prostitute."
Zeke paused. She still stood with her arms crossed and with no discernible expression. Damn. Was that a good or bad sign? The tears swimming within her eyes hadn't dissipated, and that was definitely a bad sign.
"I had planned to talk money before it went as far as it did. I obviously wasn’t supposed to touch you like that. I made a mistake. Shit. Not a mistake sleeping with you. I don't regret that. I made an error in judgment, assuming you were a prostitute." He ran a hand through his hair, squinting his eyes closed before opening them again. Where were his smooth words when he needed them? "Can we start over?"
Zoe stared at him with the same blank stare since the moment he started speaking.
"Please say something. Even saying that you want to go to my captain about what I did. I accept full responsibility for my actions. They were unacceptable. I never once thought you were cheap or beneath me. In fact, I kept rolling through my mind how I could save you from that life and ask you out on a real date. That's how strongly I felt about you. You're so damn beautiful."
Her silence singed the hair on his arms. Her frequent interruptions were much better than her silence. And he really disliked when she interrupted him. But damn it. Silence was ten times worse.
His time was up. For now.
He'd simply make a new plan of attack. He wouldn't walk away this easily.
"So damn beautiful, Zoe. Even when you're interrupting me." He waited a few more seconds before sighing quietly and turned to leave.
***
"I won't go to your captain," she whispered. She let him walk away until he was halfway to the front door. Maybe he didn't hear her. That would be best.
He turned around. "You can. I didn't mean to insult you. I—"
"But you did. You cheapened something special to me and—it's embarrassing. I've never slept with a man without even knowing his name. Obviously, you're good at your job to make me want you like you did."
"My job was nowhere front and center in my mind. Not like it should've been," he said with a slow grin.
"Get that grin off your face. You threw money in my face as soon as we were finished," she yelled.
"And I regret that. You have no idea how special you are. I've never felt that close to a woman in my life. Trust me, I've had a lot."
"Not something a woman wants to hear, how many other women you've had." Why didn't she let him walk out?
"Shit. Okay, I don't do words well. What do you want me to say for you to believe me?" He took a step toward her as the pain etched into his features.
"How about I'm sorry."
"I said I was sorry." The confusion that fell across his face was almost laughable.
"You never once said those words."
He took quick, long strides toward her. The indecision of whether to flee or not, pierced her heart. His touch did things to her that she couldn't control. When he gently grabbed her hands, the potency of his touch scorched her, sending the desire to her very core.
Damn him. How could she back away now?
"I'm sorry for not saying I'm sorry right away. I'm sorry for insulting you. I'm sorry if any of it made you cry. I'm not sure I could bear to see that. Most importantly, I'm so sorry if I ruined what I think is the best thing to ever walk into my life."
His eyes, as usual, pulled her in. His hands anchored him firmly to her. But his silky sweet honey-voice with his enduring words is what undid her the most. How could she not forgive that?
Yet, he could hurt her like no other man ever did. He already had once. She shivered. From desire? From fear? Maybe a little of both.
The absurdity of the problem she faced. They were fighting like a couple in a deep relationship. When in reality, they hardly knew each other. That made it more confusing.
Perhaps he saw her uncertainty because he pulled her closer, holding her hands securely to his chest. The connection she felt that night seeped back into her body, urging her to get even closer. But the hint of doubt kept her from moving an inch.
"Can't you feel what you do to me? I have no control when it comes to you. You're sweet, sexy, and on my mind constantly. There hasn't been a day that goes by that I don't think of you. I want a second chance. Please take a chance on me."
Her heart melted again by his honey-silk voice. He said he didn't have a way with words, but he did. He had to know it. But did he mean what he said? Could she trust him not to hurt her again?
Pure bliss sucked out the rational part of her mind as his hardness pressed against her, urging her body to take him.
"I like it better when you interrupt me, not ignore me," he whispered.
"You always yell at me for doing it."
"Silence is worse. Do I get a second chance?"
"Detective Chance wants a second chance," Zoe said with a small smile.
His lips curled into a delicious grin. "I'll grovel if I have to. We might've met in unusual circumstances, but I don't regret it for one minute."
Standing so close and holding hands didn't help her concentrate and make a reliable decision. In spite of that, she didn't want to move away, she wanted to inch closer. Very bad idea.
"I have no sex appeal. Perhaps you're still trying to trap me."
"Don't ever say that again." Zeke let go of her hands and grabbed her around the waist. He pulled her as close as he could where his heat throbbed delightfully against her. "You have sex appeal. Feel me. Who hurt you?"
"You did." Her words barely left in a whisper.
He cupped her face. "My actions in that bed never once said you had no sex appeal. Who hurt you?"
"It doesn't matter."
His eyes became hard, yet his hands stayed gentle on her face. "Your friend Rina said a man treated you unkindly. Please don't tell me he said you had no sex appeal."
She bit her lip and tried to avert her eyes. Mark had no place in this conversation. Her own damn fault for bringing it up.
"He was wrong. Maybe you didn't hear me earlier. You're beautiful, Zoe," he whispered as he bent his head close to her ear, nibbling so
ftly.
"I need to step back. I can't think straight."
"I think you should stay right where you are." He lifted his eyes back to hers as a devilish smile lit up his face. His hands slid down her back to her ass and pulled her closer yet.
She shivered at the contact, memories flooding her as she leaned closer. A soft buzzing sound interrupted the moment between them.
Her phone.
She stiffened briefly before moving away from his embrace and grabbed her phone from the couch.
"Hello." Her hands started to shake as the words filtered down her spine. "Stop calling me." She hung up the phone and tossed it onto the couch.
"Who was that?"
She needed a drink. A strong one. Like whiskey or scotch or tequila. Too bad she didn't have any of those. She took a step toward the kitchen when he grabbed her arm.
"Who was that? Stop ignoring me."
His warm touch erased the fear that had swarmed her senses. She wanted nothing more than to fling herself into his arms and disappear into his warmth. She slowly turned around. "Which is it? Don't interrupt you, or stop ignoring you?"
"Both, damn it. Now answer me. You're shaking like a leaf. You think I can't feel that."
She glanced to where his hand still held her arm, then looked lower to her hand that was slightly twitching. Perhaps he hadn't removed every bit of fear. She probably needed his entire body wrapped around her for that.
"I don't recognize the voice. I need a drink. Do you want one?"
He nodded and let go. She would've preferred that he kept holding her, but distance would be better. Too bad her mind and body still couldn't agree.
Zoe pulled a beer out of the fridge for him and poured herself a glass of wine. Manners usually dictated she ask what he would've liked, but she lost that when the phone went off.
"What did they say? Why do I get the feeling this isn't the first time?"
She leaned against the counter, as Zeke fidgeted from across the kitchen. The action was so unlike him. Seduction, anger, irritation, regret. Those were normal emotions she recognized from him. But this nervousness struck her as odd. Was he unsure whether to approach her or not? She almost wished he would. She needed someone else's strength. Hers seemed to be dwindling down as the night wore on.
Distance. Remember? Distance was better. Just because sweet words poured out of his mouth didn't mean he deserved her forgiveness yet.
"Two days ago I got a call with someone asking, where is it? Today, I had a second call earlier repeating the same question and adding in, I won't ask again. Same thing just now. A few hang up calls as well."
"Why didn't you call me? What do they want?"
"Why would I call you? I hate you."
He moved swiftly, almost like a blur. His beer slammed onto the counter as he anchored himself to her. A sigh of relief almost escaped when his body met hers. He had pushed away her fear once again.
"You want me. Say it with me."
She squeezed her lips together to stop herself from laughing. The audacity. So damn cocky. "You're really full of yourself."
He grinned. "Your eyes glow when I touch you. I can see the desire." His smile dimmed as his hands tightened around her. "You need to tell me about any future calls. In fact, we should have all your calls traced from now on."
"It's probably nothing."
"Ignoring me. Ignoring problems. Is that something you enjoy doing?"
She slapped his chest. "You're a jerk."
"And you've already slapped me. Once was enough." He brushed a tender hand across her cheek. "Don't hate me, Zoe. Anything but that."
"You know it's difficult to think when you're this close to me."
"Which is why I'm this close to you. I'll do whatever it takes to get back into your good graces."
"You're despicable."
To distract herself, or perhaps she couldn't help herself, she started to lightly trace his chest. That should make him happier than the slap she delivered.
"I don't know what this person wants. Despite my better judgment, I debated calling you about it. I can't promise anything, or that I don't have reservations trusting you. You hurt me."
Zeke slowly grabbed her face and kissed her gently on the lips. "I will never try to hurt you again."
"I can't promise anything."
Zeke grabbed his beer and her hand. "Come on. We need to talk about these calls."
He led her back into the living room where she listened intently as he pointed out things she should pay attention to the next time the person called and answered questions as he tried to figure out her mystery.
His presence made the phone calls appear not as scary as she originally thought. But letting him stay the night couldn't happen. Her heart still needed mending. When she walked him to the door, the unasked question settled in his eyes. No matter how much her body craved to let him stay, her mind knew better.
Forgiving him was one thing. Forgetting what happened was another.
Chapter 4
Zeke rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on the papers in front of him. He didn't sleep much the night before, wishing all night he was in Zoe's bed, not his—alone. Right before she kicked him out last night, temptation burned on his tongue to ask if he could stay. He couldn't rush her, though.
Baby steps. It was going to kill him.
He already tormented himself by giving her space, waiting three days to knock on her door. Torturous, but necessary. Continuing to take his time was just as crucial. But knowing how her delectable body tasted, knowing what he was missing, the agony couldn't possibly get any worse.
"So, what are these phone calls?" Ben asked Zeke as he leaned back in his chair.
The precinct was a hustling and a bustling. As usual. They worked for the St. Cloud Police Department—a nice average sized town that Zeke and Ben both liked. They had enough murders and death to keep them busy, but not excessively so. They weren't going out of their minds with caseloads upon caseloads.
"I have no idea. Neither does she. I could tell she was scared. I don't like it."
Zeke brushed a hand over his face. Talking about it made it more real. Ignoring it made him irresponsible. He acted like that last month. He'd never fail Zoe again.
"Just a thought. And listen to me before you cut in. She was there that night when Mills came into the office and took a flash drive from Murphy's computer. Maybe someone knows that. Maybe Murphy knows that. We still haven't located him. His wife hasn't heard from him. Maybe this person wants the flash drive."
Zeke jerked back in his chair as if Ben had punched him in the gut. They hadn't found any flash drive in Mills's house, car, or office yet. Knowing Zoe was the last to see him alive and doing something suspicious didn't sit well with him.
Shit. She couldn't be connected to this case. He refused to believe it.
"Okay. You can cut in now," Ben said.
Words failed him. What could he possibly say that would make it not true? Nothing. That's what.
"Your words suck."
Ben chuckled. "Not what I was looking for, but alright."
He sat back up and shrugged. "I helped her put a trace feature on her phone. She sent me a copy of her phone records. Of course, the number comes up blocked. I tried calling her cell phone provider hoping they could help identify the number somehow. That angle doesn't sound promising. Plus, they asked for a warrant."
"I know how much you like this woman. We'll figure it out. I'm glad it went well last night with her. You've been a mess."
"No, I haven't."
"Geez. Yes, you have."
"No, I haven't."
"Why are you arguing with me? You have. A huge mess."
"Define huge mess."
Ben arched a brow. "When are you seeing her again?"
Zeke shrugged. Since finding her again, his confidence had taken a leave of absence. They didn't make plans. He had no idea when he would see her again.
"She doesn't fully trust me." He had to earn h
er trust. He left last night with the worry still swarming his stomach like bees hovering around a hive.
"You have a way with women. You got her to give you a chance. That's more than I thought possible," Ben said with a teasing laugh.
Before Zeke could respond, Captain Ganderson poked his head out of his office and hollered, "Chance. Stoyer. My office, now."
"You talk. I'll play it cool in the background," Zeke said as they made their way to his office. "And could you give me a little more confidence boost concerning Zoe?"
"Ha! You don't know the meaning of playing it cool. I do seem to recall you flying off the handle constantly back in Mills's office with Zoe," Ben said, laughing. "That was me giving you a confidence boost."
Zeke glared at him. "You have a funny way of showing it. I can't help my reaction with her. It was the shock of seeing her again."
Ben gave him a smirk as they walked into the captain's office. The captain sat behind his desk, looking annoyed. "Close the door."
"What's up, Cap?" Zeke said with his best smile as Ben closed the door.
"Hmm, let's see. How about a prominent businessman in our community was killed. Or how about another prominent businessman is missing. What do you have for me? Anything? You two are sitting at your desks talking like a bunch of girls," Captain Ganderson said with a strained breath.
"I wouldn't say we were talking like girls, we weren't getting that detailed about things. I—"
"Shut up, Chance. I don't care what you were yapping about. What I care about is solving this murder. What do you have for me?"
"Dr. Everly confirmed time of death between ten and eleven o'clock that night, but he was unsure of the proximity of the victim from the shooter because there was limited gunpowder residue on the wounds. Suggests the shooter was far away when they fired the weapon, or used a silencer. No reports of any gunfire that night. So, we're leaning towards a silencer. Ballistics came back with bullets from a .40 caliber handgun. No matches yet tying the weapon to any other crimes. Feels kinda like a professional job."
Zeke paused, waiting for the captain to interrupt him. People seemed to enjoy doing that lately. When he didn't, he continued.
"Nothing strange in his finances so far. He wasn't dating anyone. The only problem we found is the mysterious issue between Murphy and him. Murphy was last seen leaving Mills's home before Mills came home. Murphy's wife hasn't been very helpful. Although, she did say he had been acting strange lately and refused to talk about the issues at work. We got a search warrant for both of their computers at home and work, still going through all that. Waiting for forensics to get back to us. Also checked Murphy's finances, nothing strange popped up. Young, the other partner in the company, has been somewhat cooperative giving us full access to the business, but we're still looking into everything. We think he's hiding something. His secretary reported him abruptly leaving the morning Mills was found after receiving a phone call. He was quite evasive about it and wouldn't divulge who called or where he went when we asked. So far we haven't—"
One Taste of You (One Taste #1) Page 4