Zeke cradled her cheeks and kissed her lightly. To comfort her, but also to calm himself down. "I don't know that for sure, but I'd bet on it. I'm generally not wrong." Zoe gave him a smirk at that comment. "I said generally, not never."
"You can't stay here tonight. I'm not even sure I'm comfortable with you staying here alone until I figure it out," Zeke said, asking his unspoken question with his eyes that he was afraid to say with words.
"Where am I supposed to go?" Zoe said with a frazzled tone as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
Clearly, he didn't plead with his eyes well enough. Or she refused to acknowledge what he wanted. Probably the latter. She didn't trust him.
"Zoe, I want—"
"Hey, Zeke. What do we have?" Susan asked, smiling brightly as she walked up the pathway holding her crime scene kit.
Zeke frowned. This had to stop. Now everyone seemed to cut him off. Did a memo go out around work to dig it in? He could actually see Ben doing something like that simply to annoy him. It wouldn’t be his fault when he exploded.
He stepped away from Zoe, but still stood close enough to reach out to her. "Break-in. Anything destroyed or appears to have been touched, fingerprint it. I want to know immediately when, or if, you find anything useful for me."
"Is this related to your murder case you're working on?" Susan asked, as she started up the porch, obviously oblivious to his annoyance.
Zeke couldn't look at Zoe. He'd probably see the fear increase. "Probably. ASAP, like I said."
"You got it," Susan said with a thumbs up and proceeded inside.
Zeke took his time turning back toward Zoe. Instead of fear, as he expected, nothing but raw anger poured from her features.
"When were you going to tell me this was related to Mr. Mills's murder? That's what she was referring to, wasn't it?"
"I was going to tell you. I—"
"When were you going to tell me? Next week," Zoe snapped.
"Quit interrupting me."
"Quit assuming things about me."
"What did I assume this time?" He brushed a hand through his hair, grabbing on the ends slightly.
"You think I can't handle it. That I'm scared or something."
Zeke laughed. Her eyes lit up with flames. He screwed up again by laughing. But damn if she hadn't read his mind.
"You are scared. You're actually going to deny it. I think—"
"I think you're still a jerk."
Zeke's brows dipped as his lips became tight. "You never listen to me."
Zoe shrugged as if she didn't care, yet she couldn't hide her fear that well. The anger displayed well in her face, but the shaking in her hand told him everything.
"They most likely want that flash drive you saw Mills take."
"Well, I don't have it."
"I know that. Can we please talk about—"
"You two seriously need to learn how to communicate better. I could hear you both hollering from inside the house," Ben said, walking out of the house, smiling. His smile grew as Zeke let him know with one look exactly what he thought about him interrupting.
Oh, yeah. He could definitely see Ben telling people to mess with him for the fun of it.
Deciding not to pay attention to him, Zeke turned to Zoe. "Look, I see Officer Spencer pulling up. Stay with him, by your car, whatever. Just don't leave the area. Ben and I have to canvas the neighborhood. We can finish this conversation later."
"Not sure we have much left to discuss." Zoe turned around and walked back to her car.
What did she mean by that comment? He hoped it wasn't what he thought it meant.
"You're never gonna stay in her good graces yelling at her," Ben said.
"Is that all the wonderful advice you have?"
"You want more? I have plenty up my sleeve," Ben said with a chuckle.
Zeke shook his head and walked away to relay what was happening to Officer Spencer.
They started knocking on doors, hoping for a lead of some sort. It took about thirty minutes to walk up and down the block, interviewing the few people who were home. Nothing panned out. Nobody saw or heard anything.
"We need something. This case has given us nothing but aggravation." Zeke walked with long, quick strides, eager to get back to Zoe.
"Something will pan out soon. It always does, usually," Ben said.
"It's either always or it's usually. It can't be both." He jerked his hand toward her house as his strides became faster. "Why is she laughing? What is Spencer saying to her?"
"You need to get laid. Your disposition is seriously lacking. Oh, right, you can't seem to control your temper with her. What are you to do?" Ben said laughing.
"You can't control yourself with the jokes, can you? He better not be hitting on her. Is he hitting on her?" He groaned when he saw a car pull up with Dee and Rina exiting. "Great, just what I need. Two people who hate me."
"Temper. Don't use it. That quiet one scared me more than the loud one," Ben reminded him as he walked in a completely different direction. Zeke glared at Ben's back. Now he had to face them alone.
Deep breath. He could do this.
"What did you find?" Dee demanded.
"Nice to see you again, too," Zeke said.
"You didn't answer my question because…" Dee waited for him to answer.
He cocked a brow. Why couldn't he be nice? The best way into Zoe's good graces could possibly be through her friends.
"I have no answer yet. We're still working on it."
"Can she go get her clothes?" Dee asked.
"Why?"
"Because, Einstein, you told her she couldn't stay here tonight and she needs clothes to wear tomorrow," Dee snapped.
"Where are you staying, Zoe?" He turned towards her. Not much was written on her face. Not anger, nor fear.
Before Zoe could respond, Dee blurted, "With me. You honestly don't think she's staying with you—douche man. Do you?"
"I don't think she should be staying with you either," Zeke said, grinding his teeth as he tried not to yell.
"I certainly won't hurt her like you have. I don't think you should be given the chance she's giving you. I want you to stay away from her," Dee said firmly, shoving her finger against his chest to make him move back.
Zeke barely budged an inch, although, his hand flinched. Sure, he could arrest her for pushing a cop, but she was only protecting her friend. He could respect that. Not that he wanted to. And while he might deserve every word she said, he refused to back down.
"Yeah, and how are you going to protect her when they come for her at your place?"
Silence filled the circle. Even Dee became speechless, as her lips froze in place to look like a fish blowing bubbles.
"Do you think they will follow me wherever I go?" Zoe asked, finally breaking the silence.
Zeke could act like a devil and knew what worked for him. He stepped closer and grabbed her hands. "Yes. I don't want to think about what could've happened if you had been home. They want something that they think you have. Just because they couldn't find it in your house doesn't mean they'll stop. I keep saying they, but it could be Murphy. He's our prime suspect right now."
Zeke pulled her even closer and bent his head toward her ear. "Stay with me, Zoe. This…whatever is between us…you're important to me even if I have a hard time showing it sometimes."
He kissed her neck, hoping to erase the tiny tremors consuming her body. The longer he held her, the more he could feel them slowly diminishing. Keeping physical contact always seemed to be the trick to calm her down and make her see things his way.
Yeah, that did make him kind of despicable. But he had to use what worked to get his way. Losing her was not an option.
She pushed away, but not entirely out of his arms, for which he was grateful. "How long should I stay with you if I choose that option?"
"I knew it." Dee shook her head as if the idea was ludicrous.
"I don't want to fight with you, Dee. I only want wh
at's best for Zoe at the moment. Do you want to see her hurt? Because I don't." He clutched Zoe's waist as he turned towards Dee.
Dee poked him again in the chest. "I have seen her hurt. By you."
Rina laid a hand on Dee's shoulder as if she could tell how much he hated when she touched him. He was so close to slapping handcuffs on her for it.
Or maybe he deserved it.
Yeah, he deserved it. He did hurt her.
"Zoe, you're probably safer with a cop until things are figured out. I don't know what they know, but I have to disagree about Murphy. I can't imagine he'd murder someone let alone burglarize someone's home," Rina said softly.
"Trader," Dee muttered under her breath as she shared a look with him. "Rina has a very small, minuscule point. Not about Murphy. He's a douche. I don't like it, but you better keep your paws off her while she's there."
"Do you mind if Zoe speaks for herself? I'm pretty sure she's quite capable of it." Zeke looked back at Zoe, squeezing his hand around her waist as a tremble rippled throughout her body.
"Okay. A day or two," Zoe whispered, sharing a look with her two friends. What that look meant, he wasn't exactly sure. Hopefully one in his favor.
"I'll go grab you some clothes. It's still a crime scene." Zeke let her go as she nodded in acceptance. She didn't need to know how bad it looked. That could come later. One problem at a time.
Mission accomplished. That's all that mattered. He now had her in his domain. He could see complete forgiveness on the horizon.
Or maybe that was wishful thinking on his part.
Chapter 5
"Dee, you have to lay off a bit," Zoe said as she turned away from watching Zeke walk inside her house.
"Not a chance. If you're not going to protect yourself, I'll do it for you."
Zoe shook her head, knowing Dee meant well, but she couldn't possibly understand the way he calmed her down with one simple touch. She'd been scared when she called him. She'd been scared when he arrived and walked into the house. She had finally felt safe the minute her arms wrapped around his strong frame. When she had to let go, a small amount of fear had crept back in. The more she learned about the situation, the stronger the fear became. Then he'd touch her gently and it would all melt away.
And she had tried to pretend with him that she wasn't scared. He knew. He also knew his touch helped.
What happened to taking it slow?
At the moment, she didn't care. She just wanted him to come back, hold her, and call her honey again. Each time his silky voice uttered that word, she loved it. It made her feel special and wanted. Like he cared. She wanted to believe he cared.
About ten minutes later, Zeke came back out of the house with a suitcase. She said goodbye to her friends, telling them she would be at work tomorrow and not to worry about a thing.
Zeke had expressed his concern about her driving, but she insisted she was fine and proceeded to follow him to his house. As she drove, her mind went wild. What would happen once they reached his house?
She could ignore his sexual power. She could jump his bones the minute they entered the house. She could continue to pretend she wasn't scared and didn't need his touch.
Why did she have to resist him? He was either going to break her heart or be the best thing to enter her life.
As she pulled behind his car in the driveway, a huge breath escaped. No more fighting him. No more fighting the intense emotions that flowed through her when he was near. She couldn't place all the blame at his feet. It was certainly his fault for insulting her the way he did. But she didn't have to throw herself at him in the bar. She played a part in the situation as well. She had to remember that.
Zeke helped her with her luggage, barely speaking as they entered his house. She stood in the foyer as he went down the hallway. What bedroom was he putting her stuff in? Since she came to her momentous decision, she wanted it to be his bedroom.
Her crazy, wired nerves wouldn't allow her to voice that decision. She would wait for his signal. It probably wouldn't take that long. His eyes sparkled with desire every time he glanced her way.
After dropping off her suitcase, he found her in the same spot he left her. "Are you hungry?"
"I guess I could eat. I want to change, though."
"I put your stuff in the spare bedroom. Second door on the left. I'll scrounge in the kitchen for something to eat."
Zoe nodded and went down the hallway. So, he hadn't put her stuff in his room. How could she change that without coming right out and saying it?
Talk about being ready to move forward with him, and for once, he doesn't maintain his usual cockiness by putting her stuff in his room. Her making the first move wouldn’t happen. The need for him to do it was too strong. She honestly didn't believe it would take him very long. At least she hoped it didn't.
Her suitcase lounged on the bed, sitting lonely, clearly asking to be moved to another room. His room.
"Knock it off, Zoe." She shook her head and opened up the suitcase. He had packed it well—all nicely folded. Her work clothes sat on top. She started removing them carefully, setting them on the bed.
Noticing he grabbed mostly skirts, her mood dipped at the thought of wearing them all week. She rarely wore skirts to work, feeling self-conscious with her body ever since that disastrous night.
Did he pack the skirts on purpose? She could picture the disastrous night as if it happened yesterday. His hands smoothing down her back, then inching slowly until he reached the edge of her dress, scooping underneath and—
Not going to think about it.
She picked up a black skirt. The same one she wore the day he appeared back in her life. He had stood by the desk, taking his time to look her over appreciatively. The way his eyes slid up her legs to her blouse, removing each button with his penetrating gaze.
Stop it! These images didn't help besides offer her the brutal reminder that she had given him the impression she wanted her space. And right now, any sort of space was the furthest thing from her mind.
The room suddenly filled with a stifling heat. Her cheeks flushed as she pulled her shirt away from her stomach. Fresh air would be nice. Shaking her head quickly to dispel the erotic visions, she continued to unpack.
It wouldn't kill her to wear skirts the rest of the week. And it gave Zeke opportunities to take advantage of her if the sudden feeling came over him. Again, she wondered if he packed them deliberately.
He also packed lounging pants, jeans, T-shirts, and a few tank tops. When her eyes landed on her panties and bras, her cheeks burned hotly again. She could only imagine him combing through her lingerie drawer. She owned a few sexy lingerie pieces. Thankfully, he packed none of them. But what if he had?
She could've put one on and sauntered out to the kitchen. She enjoyed sauntering up to him the first time they met. So brazen, so bold...so hot! But he didn't.
Sauntering? What was she thinking?
He sure packed a lot of clothes for more than one or two days. Was he trying to tell her something?
She grabbed a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt, laying them over all the other clothes. He said she was beautiful. Did that mean she was beautiful in absolutely anything she wore? Now was the time to put it to the test. Her hand hesitated to grab the shirt. Maybe it was too plain and boring. If she wanted him to want her, she should be putting more effort into gaining his attention.
Her eyes started to scan the other clothes lying around when a piece of red caught her attention. Her hands whipped through everything, making a complete mess.
The red dress.
The same one that made him think she was a hooker. Why did he pack this?
With trembling fingers, she picked it up. What did this mean?
She had put the dress on several times, trying to see the hooker look he saw. It held to her skin tightly. Skimpy even, revealing in too many spots for her comfort. But she had felt sexy in it that night. Definitely not like a hooker. Each time after that, she felt like a
hooker.
She stared, mesmerized by the dress. A subtle scent drifted toward her, breaking the spell. His aftershave. The will to confront him became impossible as she couldn't tear her eyes away from the dress.
"You okay? I threw a pizza in the oven and it should be done in about five minutes."
The sound of his voice suddenly gave her strength. Swiveling slowly, clutching the dress to her chest, she didn't say a word as she looked at him. She honestly didn't know where to start.
***
Zeke stared back. The red dress pierced his eyes brutally. He didn't think she would unpack the whole suitcase right away. He didn't even know why he packed it. When he saw it hanging in the closet, he couldn't resist. Images of her delectable body went off like a bolt of lightning. His body ached to redo that night. Make it up somehow for hurting her.
That disastrous, glorious night replayed in his dreams nightly, making him wish for redemption. He realized he might have thought on the surface she was a prostitute, but deep down he knew she hadn't been one. He would've never slept with her otherwise. He knew he wouldn't have.
They stared at each other, silence surrounding them. He screwed up again by impulsively packing that dress. Screwing up repeatedly with her seemed to be his thing.
The silence. He hated the silence from her. Why couldn't she yell at him already? The silence made it worse. Words, yet again, failed to come to his rescue.
Zeke knew he should say something. Words were his forte with women. With life. They normally rolled off his tongue with ease. They had gotten him out of some sticky situations before. Yet, he had no clue what to say.
"I love that dress." Zeke winced when her eyes went round with shock. "You're gorgeous, Zoe. That dress on you turns me on. I don't know why I packed it. Call it a moment of insanity. I didn't mean to upset you. I saw it hanging there and then I saw you wearing it. And…"
"What are you thinking?" He couldn't keep talking when she stared at him with a blank expression.
"That this dress makes me look like a hooker," she whispered.
He took a step toward her. "That dress makes you look delicious. My job was to find a hooker that night. The moment I saw you, my job went out the door. I would've never slept with you if I had truly thought you were a hooker. I know that with complete certainty."
One Taste of You (One Taste #1) Page 6