Hold On To Me (Welcome To Redemption)

by Netzel, Stacey Joy

  Lowell and his officers did a good job; he knew that after hearing how they’d caught the creeps responsible for a couple recent attacks in town. Not to mention, the sheriff himself was here on a Saturday night, wasn’t he? Grant relaxed a bit with that silent acknowledgment.

  Donovan closed his notebook and said to Jenny, “That’s it for now. Do you have someplace to stay tonight?”

  Grant was about to offer his spare room when Jenny held up a key. “Nadine offered her place.”

  “And some pajamas and clothes,” the other woman added.

  “Do you have renter’s insurance?” Chase inquired.

  When Jenny shook her head, Grant said, “My policy should cover this.” And if it didn’t, he would.

  “Good.” Nadine linked her arm with Jenny’s. “Now, if Sheriff Lowell doesn’t have any more questions, let’s go get you settled. You look worn out.”

  Chase walked them all out into the hall. “Go ahead. I’m sure Mike’s got everything we need for tonight. We’ll get everything closed up here. Tomorrow the crime scene techs will come dust for prints and look for other evidence. Will you be around if we need to talk to you in the morning?”

  “Sunday’s are my day off, so I’ll be here. Nadine’s apartment is two-eighteen.”

  Jenny thanked Chase and Mike and said goodnight. Grant had hoped to talk to her alone once more, but Nadine whisked her down the hall before he could say anything. He resigned himself to waiting until morning and made his way downstairs to his own apartment.

  After fixing a ham sandwich, he flipped on the TV, hoping for a distraction from his thoughts as he ate dinner. Nothing caught his attention. A phone call to his Uncle Frank didn’t help, either. When he pressed Grant to set a date to visit, Grant made his excuses and hung up.

  A glance at the clock made him groan. The oblivion of sleep was a long way off. It was barely after seven, and even with having gotten up so early, he wasn’t tired at all. Questions with no answers raised his frustration to a level that had him pacing the room.

  That still wasn’t enough, so he changed into shorts and running shoes and headed outside. A couple miles seemed to take the edge off, until he was back inside his apartment. With his muscles twitching and sweat running down his back under his shirt, the walls started to close in again.

  He kicked off his shoes before sitting on the couch with a deep breath. After a brisk rub of his hands over his face, he leaned back, raking his fingers through his hair. Once he’s propped his stocking feet up on the coffee table, he linked his hands behind his head.

  Deep cleansing breath...eyes closed...he let the thoughts flow.

  What a week. At the least, Jenny’s reaction to his questions confirmed his instincts that there was more than met the eye. But would she tell him what was going on when he confronted her again? Did she trust him enough?

  It physically hurt to think she might not. Not something he wanted to dwell on.

  And if they didn’t nail Adams, how would he keep her safe? Because, yes, the self-imposed responsibility had settled square on his shoulders, and from the standpoint that she was a paying tenant, it made perfect sense. Word had spread through the building about the vandalized lights and it would be the same with the break-in. If he didn’t get calls tonight yet, they’d start tomorrow for sure, along with those who felt the need to speak to him in person. Chase had a good point about adding a secure entrance.

  Then again, if his and Jenny’s suspicions were correct, it’d be just as effective to have her move in with him.

  His eyes popped open. Whoa! Where’d that come from?

  That was going to need a lot more thought.

  A lot more.

  Another day.

  He surged to his feet and bee-lined for the shower. Any activity to get his mind off the thought of Jenny in his home. Which would ultimately put her in his bed.

  Five minutes later irony struck, and he twisted the faucet to rinse off under a bracing stream of cold water. Thoughts of her had driven him into the shower, and thoughts of her naked and wet in Nadine’s tub drove him out before his soap-sudsed hand got too personal. So much for the tenant angle of reasoning.

  He’d barely begun to towel off when a knock echoed through his apartment. Great. Tenant complaints starting already.

  With a damp towel secured around his waist, he hurried from the bathroom to get dressed, only to have his visitor’s insistent fist thump against the door once more. Why couldn’t they call first? Resigned, and figuring it’d serve them right, he switched direction in his towel and yanked the door open.

  Chapter 11

  Jenny sucked in a breath at the sight of Grant clad in a light blue towel and nothing else. His annoyed expression switched to concern in the time it took for him to recognize her.

  “Hey...what are you doing here?” He shifted sideways to see into the hall. “Where’s Nadine?”

  She was still taking him all in. Wow. Water droplets glistened on his chest and shoulders, and his short, wet hair stood up in all directions. It crossed her mind that he’d showered earlier, too, but as her gaze tracked downward, she decided not to complain. The light smattering of dark hair on his chest arrowed down across his trim stomach into his towel, making her wonder what lay underneath.

  Her cheeks warmed. She knew what was underneath. Wanted what was underneath. Question was, did she have the guts to go after what was underneath?

  “What’s going on?” Grant insisted.

  She dragged her eyes back to his stubble-shadowed face. Brown eyes bored into hers, demanding an answer. Her fingers tightened on the shoulder strap of her duffle bag. She’d always admired Nadine’s fashion sense, now she’d get the chance to try some sophisticated clothes on herself. Could she channel the confidence to pull them off? Literally.

  Yes. Tonight she was taking one giant step forward.

  “Nadine had to leave for a conference, and—”

  “Tonight? I thought she was going to be with you.”

  “She’s spending the night at her cousin’s in Milwaukee to catch an early flight.”

  His eyes darkened, matching his tone. “You’re staying alone up there?”

  “I was going to—”

  “No. Absolutely not. Get in here.”

  —ask if I could stay with you.

  Grant stood aside for her to enter, so she crossed over the threshold with no need to finish her sentence. His dominate attitude didn’t bother her because she’d come to him. A frown drew his thick eyebrows together as he closed the door and came to stand in front of her. A muscle flexed in his tight jaw.

  “What were you thinking staying up there all by yourself?”

  Right now she was thinking she’d love to step forward and run her hands all over his hard body, but his furious tone kept her rooted to the spot. Not because she feared him. Deep down she trusted he wouldn’t hurt her, and the heated emotion in his voice conveyed concern, not anger.

  Bolstered by the realization, she swung her bag off her shoulder to rest on the floor at her feet. “I thought it would be fine, until Nadine left and I got a little creeped out. I couldn’t even take my bath.”

  His jaw clenched again as he ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. He blew out a breath, and his Adam’s apple bobbed.

  “Geezus, Jenny. I went for a run.”

  Explained why he’d showered again.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” she asked.

  “I wouldn’t have been here if you needed me,” he said roughly, his gaze on hers, his frustration evident.

  “You’re here now,” she reasoned with a small smile. “And I really need that bath.”

  His gaze skimmed down the length of her body and back up, leaving a tingle of awareness from head to toe. He swallowed hard before averting his attention while jabbing a finger in the direction of the bathroom.

  “Help yourself. I’m going to bed.”

  With that, he strode into what she assumed wa
s his bedroom and slammed the door. Jenny stood there, speechless as her smile faded. Not the way she’d imagined that going at all. Fighting a sudden sting of tears, she retrieved her bag and carried it to the bathroom. Inside, she lowered the toilet lid and sat. Her first deep breath of humid air filled her lungs with the spicy scent of whatever soap Grant had just used in the shower.

  A sharp rap on the door made her jump. She quickly blinked away the stubborn moisture in her eyes.

  “You decent?” he called.

  “Yes.”

  The door cracked open. She straightened and met his gaze with a lift of her chin. Regret shone unhindered in his eyes.

  “I’m glad you came down here instead of staying at Nadine’s all alone. I apologize for being an ass a minute ago.”

  A glimmer of hope broke through her disappointment. However, she didn’t trust her voice quite yet, so she simply gave a small shrug with one shoulder.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “the spare bedroom is made up—the one to the left when you exit the bathroom. Um...there’s an extra toothbrush in the cabinet with the towels if you need it. Unfortunately, your choices of shampoo and stuff are limited, but use what you want.”

  “I brought some from Nadine’s.”

  “Oh. Good. Fine.” He started to withdraw before opening the door wider once more. “Do you need anything else?”

  Yeah, you.

  She shook her head.

  His gaze drifted from her, to the tub, and back again. After a visible swallow and an abrupt nod, he said, “Right. I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

  Anything she replied would’ve been said to the closed door. As she heard the muffled sound of his bedroom door closing again, she released a shaky breath. His unexpected apology, added to the heated expression on his face when he’d closed the door, convinced her to continue with her plan. She reached to turn on the water. Once it was hot, she used the stopper and then dumped in two capfuls of Nadine’s Cashmere Apple Blossom bubble bath.

  The wonderful scent surrounded her as she stripped down and sank into the bubbles, but she still found herself reaching for Grant’s bottle of body wash.

  Dark Temptation.

  Relaxed in the silky, hot water, she flipped the lid for a sniff. Hmm. She closed her eyes and enjoyed a mental recreation of him in that barely adequate towel. Dark temptation was an understatement.

  Earlier, when he’d walked her to her door, she’d totally chickened out. The words to invite him in hadn’t been able to make it past her heart pounding in her throat. And then he’d gone all gentleman, and she’d regretted the missed opportunity as she watched him walk away. She’d almost worked up the courage to call him back when she’d unlocked her door and discovered the break in.

  Then, Nadine’s offer to use her apartment provided Jenny easy avoidance of Grant’s too-perceptive questions. Even though she didn’t doubt he’d insist on answers at some point, she needed time to decide exactly how to handle the escalating situation.

  When Nadine left, though, she’d discovered being alone after seeing her apartment wasn’t conducive to productive thinking. Every little sound in the unfamiliar residence increased her unease, until she packed a bag and practically ran down the stairs to knock on Grant’s door. Not that she hadn’t spent some of that time alone in her neighbor’s apartment imagining what might have happened if she’d followed through on the desire ignited by his kisses.

  Those imaginings had prompted her to pack the black, spaghetti strap satin and lace slip peeking out of the open bag on the floor next to the tub. Fantasy teased her while she shampooed her hair and shaved her legs, and washed and rinsed before draining the water and toweling dry. The slip shimmied down over her breasts and settled about mid-thigh.

  Jenny gave herself a critical review in the mirror, turning this way and that. The satin whispered across her thighs, hanging a little longer than it should. No to mention, she didn’t quite fill out the top like Nadine probably did. Oh well—she didn’t intend to wear it long anyway.

  Jenny pressed her palms against her warm cheeks and stared into her eyes in the mirror.

  Am I really going to do this?

  The answer came in the form of a faint yet insistent throb from deep within.

  Yes.

  After ten minutes blow-drying her hair until it was only slightly damp, brushing her teeth, and applying tiny spritzes of matching apple-scented body spray at her pulse points, she decided she’d procrastinated long enough.

  It took all of thirty seconds to deposit her bag on the guestroom bed and return to stand outside Grant’s bedroom. She’d worried she might have taken too long in the bathroom, but the thin ribbon of light along the floor confirmed he was still awake.

  A quick fluff of her hair brought strands forward to cover her shoulders. Her hand shook as she raised it to knock. That wouldn’t do. Fisting both hands at her side, she took a deep, determined breath and summoned the vision of Grant’s expression when she’d fed him the bite of cinnamon roll that morning. And when he kissed her at the barn.

  Reaching forward once more, she opened his bedroom door.

  Grant glanced up from the paperback in his hands, then lifted his head for a wide-eyed, lips-parted-in-surprise double take. Jenny stepped forward, taking in his lean form reclined in the middle of the big bed, dressed in only a pair of white cotton boxer briefs that left little to the imagination.

  “W-hat...” He paused to clear his throat as she moved toward him and tried again. “Did you...need...something?”

  That earlier glimmer of hope blossomed under the scrutiny of his heated, roving gaze and disjointed question.

  “I’m not tired,” she said, almost to the bed and happy to be so. It was nerve-wracking walking across the room wondering the whole time if she looked as awkward as she felt. To distract him, she asked, “What are you reading?”

  As if suddenly remembering the book in his hand, he dragged his gaze from her nightgown and snapped the paperback shut while flipping it over onto the opposite side of the bed next to his leg.

  “Nothing.”

  Doing her best to keep a straight face, she lifted her eyebrows. “Is it a spy novel?”

  A hint of resignation showed in his expression even as his face reddened. She guessed he remembered she’d left the cinnamon roll bag on top the book. Her thighs came up against the side of the bed, and she braced her hands on the mattress, leaning forward as if trying to see the cover.

  “Mystery? Thriller?”

  By now his ears were red, too. His gaze dropped to the gaping neckline of her slip. “You know damn well it’s not.”

  Oh, God, the rough, husky tone of his voice alone had her inner muscles clenching in anticipation. That, and she’d gotten close enough to smell his Dark Temptation, all the more alluring as it mixed with the scent of warm male.

  She lowered her voice, hoping to sound seductive. “Are you enjoying it?”

  “You know what was on Frank’s book shelf.” He quit trying to hide the book. “I wouldn’t be reading this if it wasn’t good.”

  “But are you enjoying it?” She slid one knee up onto the bed and walked a hand forward; followed by the other knee, and the other hand. “Particularly the...moonlit encounters?”

  His gaze met hers and she knew in an instant he’d read the explicit love scenes Lindy wrote in all her books. One second Jenny was on her hands and knees facing him and the next he tossed the book aside and flipped her onto her back.

  Her startled squeak died as he loomed over her, one leg sprawled over hers while the lower half of his body pressed hers into the mattress. With his weight supported on one elbow, he lifted his free hand to brush the hair from her face.

  “What are you doing, Jenny?”

  His gentle tone was in sharp contrast to the fierce intensity of his dark gaze.

  She gulped back her anxiety and teased, “Are you complaining?”

  “Does it feel like I’m complaining?”

  She became
aware of an impressive erection pressing against her thigh. “N-no.”

  His attention had been fixed on her mouth, but the stammer in her voice brought his gaze back to hers. “I do want this—I want you, I’ve just been trying my damndest not to rush you.”

  “I am a little nervous,” she admitted. “But I came to you, remember?”

  His gaze searched hers before a slow smile softened his expression. “Good point.”

  He leaned down and settled his mouth over hers. She held onto his arms, aware of his warmth and strength. A soft nip of his teeth on her bottom lip was immediately soothed by his tongue before he angled his head and pressed for entrance. She opened and met him halfway.

  The hand that’d toyed with her hair before now slid down along her side, palm flat against smooth satin. With his fingers spread, his hand spanned over her ribcage.

  The kiss flamed hotter than ever. Jenny’s breath rasped in and out, barely providing enough oxygen before she sucked in another. She wasn’t aware of time passing; nothing but the magic of his lips and the heat of their two bodies together.

  “God, you smell good enough to eat,” he murmured as he nuzzled just beneath her right ear. His hand eased down to her thigh, found the hem of the slip and crept back up along her bare skin. He groaned deep in his throat at the discovery that she wasn’t wearing underwear, his fingers digging into her flesh.

  Out of nowhere, it dawned on her she was really doing this, and there was no turning back now. Not that she wanted to, but things were progressing much faster than she’d anticipated. With Grant, anyway. She’d thought—hoped—things would be different with him. Hoped for more foreplay; more for her. And while the kissing was nice—amazing, actually—his hand moving south so soon told her everything would be over soon.

  Maybe that’s just how sex was, and she expected too much. Maybe the stuff Lindy and other romance authors wrote in their books was just plain romantic nonsense. Nothing more than the writer’s wishful thinking mirroring her own. And maybe, with as good as Grant made her feel now, the few minutes with him inside her would be enough.