“Hell, no,” Jack practically growled. “I need coffee.”
“I think I have some.” Lucy nodded to her left, still afraid to glance his way. She opened the cupboard and reached for the jar. He’d been nice enough to spend the night because she’d freaked. He didn’t need to deal with her hero worship, or attraction, or whatever the heck she felt. That would just make her seem more pathetic in his eyes.
“Instant?” The horror in his tone drew her gaze. Jack stiffened, eyes narrowing to slits. “Tell me you’re joking.”
Forgetting all about her discomfort, she lifted her chin. “What’s wrong with instant?” Lucy pointed to the label. “It’s coffee, says so right there.”
“Have you ever tasted this shit?” He sounded thoroughly disgusted.
“Sorry.” She shrugged. “I don’t drink coffee, so I wouldn’t know. How about some green tea?” she offered again.
Jack raised both forefingers in the form of a cross. “That’s even worse. I need a caffeine jolt. Big-time.” He placed his hands on his waist. “I distinctly remember you promising me breakfast.”
“Yeah, but I don’t recall the bit about supplying coffee.” Lucy giggled, unable to stop the amusement that bubbled up. Jack looked totally annoyed and adorably grumpy.
“In my book, breakfast can’t even start without a steaming cup of coffee.” He then flashed his killer smile that she was beginning to like…too damn much. “Strong. Black. Coffee. Real coffee. Not that shit, and preferably freshly ground.”
“Well, then.” Lucy leaned against the countertop, crossed her legs, and held out the jar of instant, grinning like a besotted idiot. “That presents a problem because this is all I have.” Her eyebrows rose, daring him…waiting to see what he’d do next.
He slowly shook his head and walked toward her. When he stepped within a foot of her, she instinctively leaned back, but he only relieved her of the jar, stuck it back in the cupboard, and slammed the door. “Not good enough.”
Still in her personal space, he crowded her while his eyes zeroed in on her lips. She licked the bottom one and worked to slow her racing heart, noting how sunlight from the kitchen skylight she’d had installed to brighten the room framed his blond head like a halo. There was nothing saintly about that grin heating her insides. Being this close to him, in the light of day with the warmth shining from his blue eyes, did weird things to her. Chickening out, she lurched out of his reach just as the doorbell rang.
“Saved by the bell,” Lucy joked, turning off the burner then darting out of the kitchen, all too relieved for the interruption. For a moment there, she’d wanted to taste his lips, having been positive Jack was going to kiss her again. “Yeah, right. And if you believe that, then I’ve got a bridge I can sell you, Lucy,” she said under her breath. He was just being nice. The guy had always been ultra-picky about the women he dated. Someone like him would never find someone like her attractive. Not in a million years. Besides, his interest or disinterest was a moot point when she was bound and determined not to let physical attraction sway her from her purpose.
Jack’s quick laugh intruded on her private conversation with herself. “This isn’t over, Lucy. I expected more and I’ll get it.”
Of course he did, and she’d love to give him more. “Oh, brother,” she muttered. If she kept this up, Jack would discover her secret attraction in no time. No sense scaring him off before he helped her find Cassie.
She opened the front door and thoughts of Jack disintegrated instantly.
“Hello, Mike.” Lucy forced a smile, shooting for welcoming cheerfulness, but her mind was frowning. Why was he here this early on a Saturday? Not a good thing. She looked behind her at the hallway leading to the kitchen, then glanced back at Mike.
“Hey, Lucy.”
When she didn’t automatically invite him in, he cleared his throat. He was a decent partner, if you discounted his one fault, a motor mouth, which was another reason she’d never date him. As it stood, she’d taken a big chance in trusting him last night, relying on his desire to eventually hook up to keep him silent. If he discovered Jack had spent the night, she had no idea how he’d react.
“Sorry to barge in on you this early,” Mike said, drawing her gaze. “But I wanted to make sure you were okay. I mean, you left so fast last night.”
“I’m fine.” Lucy regarded him warily, highly doubting his excuse. More likely, he was after the scoop. Controlling Mike and gossip was like controlling spam on the Internet. The best anyone could hope for was to not give him any incriminating information in the first place, and she’d handed him a full platter last night. “It’s sweet of you to think of me.”
He smiled and Lucy felt a twinge of guilt for her mean thoughts, but she still did not invite him in. She clenched her teeth to hold her fake smile in place, as her mind raced for an excuse to get rid of him without appearing rude. Fast. Before Mike spotted Jack. The last thing she needed at this point was for the news to spread through the whole company. Then Gerald Duncan would hear of it, and he’d easily guess the truth—that she hadn’t dropped her search for Cassie.
“Can I come in?” Mike threw out the same begging, puppy-dog stare that had always irked her. He’d used the expression too many times on others for her not to recognize his ploy for sympathy. “We need to talk.”
Of course he needed to talk. How else could he sniff out anything juicy? “I’m a little rushed right now and I still have to shower.” Damn. Her voice sounded too brusque, even to her ears. “Maybe we can meet later, and we can talk all you want,” Lucy said, softening her tone and adding a silent prayer. Please, Lord, keep Jack in the kitchen.
“What I have to say won’t take long.” He glanced at her sofa then back at her, his brown eyes still pleading. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
Lucy sighed and nodded. “Sure.” Dealing with some of the investigators she worked with was like dealing with irrational children. Some, namely Mike, tended to take rejection personally, and since she’d already rejected him umpteen times socially, she couldn’t be so cold as to just kick him to the curb now without at least hearing what he had to say, especially when he’d helped her last night. Her mental gears cranked frantically as she searched for some excuse for Jack to be here…just in case.
She led him to the sofa, and catching a glimpse of Jack out of the corner of her eye, she groaned. Oh Lord, the next five minutes were going to be the final ax that would kill her day…she just knew it. Her head already pounded. And without a cup of tea to calm her nerves after having gotten no sleep, Lucy just didn’t have the mental capacity to work this situation to her benefit. And worse, none of this scene would help her find Cassie. Jack’s presence was ultimately waylaying her main purpose.
As Mike sat, Jack sauntered into the room like he owned the place, his gaze directed at the new arrival. Apparently one night in her guest room gave him special privileges. At least he’d put on a shirt and shoes and combed his hair, but his unshaven face was a dead giveaway that he’d spent the night.
When Mike glanced his way, the air immediately crackled as testosterone-fueled aggression flew back and forth between them. Lucy mentally rolled her eyes. Male posturing at its best, each sizing the other up and determining in his own imagination what was what, and each coming up with two and two being five.
Jack held out his hand. “I talked to you last night, but I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. I’m Jack Finnegan.” He paused. “You’re Lucy’s partner, Mike Gillespie, right?”
“Yeah.” Mike stood and shook hands. “We were both a little sidetracked last night.” His smile faded to a firm line and he looked pointedly at Lucy. “I didn’t realize you two were so well acquainted.”
“Don’t mind me.” Jack flashed an all too self-satisfied expression. “I just stopped by for some coffee.”
Lucy sank into the chair and closed her gritty eyes. The day just couldn’t regress any further.
“I could use a strong cup of coffee a
bout now.” Mike attempted another smile, yet there was nothing humorous in the curl of his lips or the glint in his eyes. “How about I help you pour, Lucy?”
Mike started in the direction of her kitchen acting as if he’d done it a thousand times, when his words told Jack the exact opposite. And Jack’s grin, now more gloating, gave her the distinct impression he enjoyed his little joke at Mike’s expense.
Yep. The day was in the toilet. “Sit there and don’t move,” Lucy ordered, pointing to the sofa, her glare shouting at him “obey or else,” before following Mike out of the room.
In the kitchen, she reached for the instant coffee and handed it to him.
“What the fuck is going on?” Mike asked, setting the jar on the counter with force.
“I’ve had a rough night, so don’t start. Besides, it’s not what you think.” She offered, “You can save face and pretend you drink this ‘shit’ as Jack calls it, and I’ll tell you. Or you can leave. Your choice.” Lucy just didn’t have the energy to argue.
Mike stared at her, as if weighing her sincerity. “I’ll take the shit,” he finally said.
“Good answer.” For the second time that morning, Lucy flipped the switch and the gas burner under the teakettle ignited. Only this time, she planned on staying put until it boiled. She really needed a cup of tea. “Before you get any ideas about Jack, I was scared last night and he did me a favor by coming over. And for your information, he stayed in my guest room.”
“Scared? You?” His earnest gaze sought hers. “What happened?” he asked when she nodded. “If you needed someone, why didn’t you call me?”
Because you’d get the wrong idea, she wanted to say, which is also the very reason I’m standing in my kitchen now, trying to smooth things over. But rather than voice that out loud, she said instead, “Someone searched my house.”
“Really?” His brown, puppy-dog eyes grew the size of quarters. “Is anything missing?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She readied her teapot, placing fresh tea in the infuser, then refocused on the teakettle, willing the damn thing to boil so she could end this conversation and soothe her system with the calming drink.
“Then how can you be sure someone was here?”
Mike’s question registered and she glanced around. Normally, the bright and cheerful room added to her sense of accomplishment. This morning the sunlight hurt her eyes and reminded her how little she’d slept. Lucy’s attention roamed to the table, complete with two placemats and napkins, needing only utensils. Her attempt to dress up the place and make her feel like an ordinary person, not a homeless one. Magazines were great for ideas and she’d done a decent job at decorating her house. Anyone entering this room would never guess her sordid background included spending her formative teen years on the streets. Heck, most of the time she forgot, especially on mornings like this when the sun poured through the skylight and windows, adding warmth to the jade countertop and butter-yellow walls.
Lucy shrugged. “It’s not just that.” Despite feeling so wretched amidst so much sunlight streaming into the room, it did seem as if her imagination had gotten out of hand last night. But that didn’t solve the problem of Jack’s presence or Mike’s preoccupation with hooking up with her. She peered up at him. “He’s helping me find Cassie,” she admitted, handing him the means to make her life more miserable and praying his continued interest in her would keep him from using it.
Mike nodded slowly without speaking for a long moment, as concern deepened into a dark scowl. “Lucy, you’re going to get yourself fired if you keep this up.”
If only he’d just drop the topic, along with the injured party act, drink his coffee and go, she could hold things together. But the instant his reproachful tone hit her ears, she knew she couldn’t count on his easy cooperation.
He leaned in and said more fervently, “Everyone’s talking about Gerald. He’s pissed and on a rant, and you’re the person he’s ranting about, so my advice to you is to cease and desist.”
“Which is why I need you to keep your mouth shut about seeing Jack here,” she snapped back, irritated because she had to defend her actions to him in the first place.
“Why is he really here? Save the scared shit for someone else. You’re the most fearless person I know.” Mike’s scowl rapidly morphed into an accusing sneer. “Are you fucking him? Is that the reason?”
Her hand itched to slap his face, but the result would only make the situation worse. Instead, Lucy froze him with an icy glare and said, utilizing the last bit of patience she possessed, “You’re welcome to a cup of coffee and my hospitality, but don’t insult me by asking such vulgar questions.”
“If you are,” Mike said, not backing down, “you might rethink his motivations. I know damn well he’s not your friend. He works with Cardello, for God’s sake. Can’t you see he’s just using you and trying to keep you from becoming a liability to Cardello’s campaign?” He shot a hand through his hair. “You can’t go around accusing judges and not expect some kind of reprisal.”
“Reprisal?” Her gaze narrowed to slits. “What do you mean?”
“You just admitted that someone searched your house. I bet they were looking for something to hold over your head. To shut you up.”
“It wasn’t me,” Jack said, rounding the corner and entering Lucy’s peripheral vision. “I’m not here to shut her up. I’m here to help her find her missing friend.”
Lucy’s heart sank. Jack had obviously eavesdropped on enough of their conversation. But had he heard the rest?
“As to the other?” Jack shrugged. “Whether she’s fucking me or not isn’t any of your business. Besides.” He paused a heartbeat. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”
Lucy’s ears burned with embarrassment. The thought of disappearing became a compelling thought, especially after Jack’s intense gaze swooped in and locked on her lips, saying more than words ever could what was on his mind.
She should stomp on his foot or slug him, or at least set some boundaries between them, but she didn’t. Instead, she just stood there, suddenly wishing Mike would disappear so she could kiss Jack. He had the softest mouth and she’d really liked kissing him last night. Besides, Mike thought the worst, so what difference would it make if he guessed her true thoughts? Then maybe he’d take the hint that she wasn’t going to sleep with him. Ever.
“Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Jack murmured, after breaking their visual connection to lean against the counter, his expression even more smug, if that were possible.
To his credit, Mike ignored him and remained calm, but his jaw clenched and his cheeks reddened as he completely changed the subject. “So, you still think Cassie is missing?”
“Yes.” The teakettle’s whistle pierced the air, and thankful for the distraction, Lucy moved to shut off the burner. Once the noise died, she turned back to Mike and said heatedly, angry over the situation more than anything else, “What do I have to say to convince you? I told you, she’s never out of contact with me and I haven’t heard a word from her in days.”
“According to Gerald, there’s a logical explanation for that,” Mike shot back. “Why don’t you believe it?”
“Look, you work on the breakfast you promised last night,” Jack said, interrupting and smiling at her, just as she was about to respond. “And I’ll go out for some real coffee. That way you two can duke it out in private.” Jack looked pointedly at Mike. “You want some? I’d be happy to buy you a cup.”
“No.” Mike stiffened. His lip curled into a snarl. “Instant’s fine. Lucy keeps it on hand for me.”
“Okay. Go back to arguing,” he said, waving a hand, not really buying Mike’s claim judging from that smug grin—a ten on the gloat meter. Then Jack glanced at Lucy, capturing her gaze once more with laughing eyes that added to his triumphant expression. She clenched a fist, resisting the urge to plow it into his stomach, then rolled her eyes when he waggled his eyebrows and added, doing a fairly decent Schw
arzenegger impression, “I’ll be back.”
Jack then spun around and headed for the living room.
Lucy threw Mike an apologetic glance. “Give me a minute, will you?”
When he nodded and murmured something about finishing making the coffee, she hurried after Jack.
At the front door, she grabbed his arm and stopped him as he reached for the doorknob. “What the hell was that little demonstration for?” she hissed, totally annoyed that he’d dare leave her with Mike after what he’d just said and done.
“What did I do?” He lifted his shoulders, appearing totally innocent.
Her fingers dug into his skin as her aggravation mounted. “Thanks to you, Mike now thinks we’re lovers.”
Jack looked at her hand on his forearm for a long second, then glanced at her with raised eyebrows. Lucy released his arm, not realizing how hard her grip was. “Sorry, but you’ve really caused problems for me.” When he just continued staring at her as if expecting her to expand, she offered, “He’ll retaliate and I’ll lose my job.”
“No, you won’t.”
“And why not? If Gerald hears that you’ve been here, he’ll conclude I’m still nosing around.”
“Then we’ll just have to divert his attention and become lovers.”
Her jaw dropped and she could only stare, totally dumbfounded. “Are you out of your freaking mind?” Lucy asked, once she regained her wits. She couldn’t completely deny that some part of her wished they could get physical. But now that he’d actually voiced the idea out loud, she suddenly realized what that might entail, forcing her to face another dilemma. Jack seemed to yank on something deep inside of her—a part of her she’d just as soon leave alone. If she couldn’t remain cool and detached during a stupid kiss, how in the hell could she remain unfazed if they took things further?
Jack had the gall to look surprised. “What? You don’t like that idea?”
Killer Romances Page 71