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Damaged

Page 11

by Jeanne St. James


  Or the other shoe to drop.

  But, there is no problem. None whatsoever.

  “Do you know what time it is?” His voice sounded low and grumbly.

  There is no problem.

  “Yes, unfortunately, I do.”

  She pulled her hairpins out, letting her hair fall around her face and down her back. What a relief to release her hair out the braid after a long day. She combed her fingers through the thick mass, untangling some snagged strands. “I’m beat. And to think I have to get up in a few hours and do it all over again.”

  “Do what?” His eyes pinned hers, and she felt like a moth caught in a flame.

  “Do what? Work, of course.” She unbuttoned the top button of her blouse.

  “You were working?”

  Colby stood to get the whistling kettle, breaking his eye contact. There is no problem. She filled both of their mugs with the steaming water. “What else?”

  “I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”

  She put the kettle back on the stove and turned to him. Okay, there may be a problem. “Mace, what are you getting at?”

  “I was just a little worried about you.”

  “Why? I’m a big girl.”

  “It was getting late, or should I say early. I thought you normally didn’t work this late.”

  She stirred a little honey into her tea. “I don’t. But, Martin and I—”

  “Martin!” he spat.

  Colby shot him an incredulous look. There definitely is a problem. “Yes, Martin. We got involved in a project we’re working on, and before we knew it, it was late. At that point, we grabbed a late supper and—”

  He held his hand up. “Enough. I’ve heard enough. You don’t have to explain.”

  She slammed her spoon down on the table. You better believe there’s a problem!

  “You’re damn right, I don’t!” She stood, pushing her chair back. “I’m going to bed.”

  She bolted out of the room, trying not to spill her tea. As she carried it upstairs, she could have sworn she heard, “Been there, done that.”

  She slammed then locked her bedroom door, trying not to scream. Instead, she settled for some quiet fuming. In her head, she called him every name in the book. Who did he think he was? Just because they slept with each other, did he think he now owned her? No. She had already had someone who thought he owned her body and soul—and everything else. Look where it left her. She didn’t need another man treating her like that.

  She sat on her bed, sipping her tea but not enjoying it. There wasn’t enough chamomile in the world to calm her down right now. Her doorknob slowly turned. She grinned smugly toward the door. She expected him to knock and apologize, but the doorknob released, and she heard nothing else.

  Good. Let him go to bed by himself.

  Though, if he hadn’t acted like such an ass, she could have used the company. And everything that would have gone along with that.

  The next morning came too soon for Colby. Still exhausted after barely three hours of sleep, she’d be lucky to function at work.

  After showering, she crept downstairs, trying to avoid running into Mace. She decided to skip breakfast, instead grabbing her car keys and her briefcase as she snuck out the door undetected.

  Unfortunately, her smooth escape came to a quick halt when her convertible wouldn’t start. After pumping the gas pedal over and over, she finally gave up. Fighting back stinging tears, she rested her forehead on the steering wheel. She’d just had the water pump fixed, and she couldn’t keep putting money into this car; she needed the funds for her house.

  A tap on her window made her look up. Mace. She groaned. The last thing she wanted to do was face him this morning.

  “Car problems?”

  “It won’t start.”

  “Pop the hood.” After she did so, he lifted the hood and peered into the engine compartment. A few seconds later, he said, “Why don’t you call in sick, and I’ll check it out for you today.”

  Colby’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t call in sick.”

  He peered around the open hood. “Today, you will. In fact, I’ll do it for you.”

  “No. I’m in the midst of a special project. I’ll get a ride.”

  “Who? Marty?”

  Mace had told her he knew about cars. He could have done something so her car wouldn’t start. Would he do something so sneaky just to keep her away from Martin?

  “Yes,” she said, glancing at her watch. “I can probably catch him before he leaves.” She climbed out of the little sports car.

  If he wanted to play games, so would she. She knew Martin had most likely left for work by now. His drive to work took a lot longer than hers. But she wasn’t telling him that.

  When Mace cursed, she suspected her suspicions were correct.

  “Don’t bother. Here.” He tossed his truck keys to her. “Don’t wreck it.”

  Colby caught the keys and quickly turned away from him to hide her smile. “Thanks.” She jumped in his truck and left before he had the chance to change his mind.

  Mace knew how to become almost anyone. He could blend in anywhere, and he could sweet talk a woman into doing just about anything. Though, he was finding Colby a challenge. Not that he intended to give up any time soon.

  Unfortunately, his plan this morning backfired. He had desperately wanted her to stay home with him, especially after getting screwed out of his time with her last night.

  However, he hadn’t expected her to hitch a ride with Martin. After she drove away in his truck, he re-tightened the battery cable on her convertible. Admittedly, it had been a stupid, asshole thing to do. He was not that desperate. His idiotic jealousy was getting in the way and could possibly ruin things with Colby if it hadn’t already. And that jealousy drove him to where he stood presently.

  He leaned over the intern’s desk, flashing his bright white teeth as he gave her a big smile. She was a young college student who looked like she had put on the “freshman fifteen” and then some.

  He wouldn’t take no for an answer. “C’mon. I just need to go talk to my friend.”

  She gave him an uneasy look. “Sir—”

  “Mace,” he corrected her.

  “Sir,” she insisted, flushing. “I can’t let you into the lab. Even if you are Martin’s friend.”

  Mace never countered her idea he was Martin’s “friend,” but he wondered why she put the emphasis on “friend” every time she said it.

  “C’mon…I need to surprise my buddy. It’s his birthday!”

  The girl’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “I didn’t know it was Martin’s birthday. And I didn’t even get him a card.” She stuck a thumbnail between her teeth and gnawed.

  “I’m sure he won’t mind. If you let me go in, I’ll let him know you wished him a happy birthday.”

  “I’m sure you will…” She pursed her lips. “Okay, but if I get in trouble…” She nervously smoothed down her skirt as she left her desk and went over to the forbidden door—the locked door to the supposed secret inner sanctum.

  “I promise you won’t.” Hopefully, he could keep his promise.

  She held her keycard against the card reader mounted on the wall, and the lock clicked. Mace leaned over to give her chubby cheek a quick peck. He turned away before he could finish watching the flush crawl up her neck.

  Heading down the narrow hallway, he read doorplates as he went. He hoped he didn’t stumble across anyone since he didn’t want any questions on why he skulked around the lab. When he came across an open doorway, he smiled. The nameplate read “Martin McConnell.”

  He slipped into the office before he could be detected and softly closed the door behind him. Just who Mace was looking for.

  Martin looked up startled. “C-can I help you?”

  He was nothing like Mace expected. The man’s dirty-blond hair was tousled as if he ran his hand through it constantly. In fact, on one side, a part of it stuck straight out. And his hair had a purple tint t
o it.

  What looked like a half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich sat on his desk. Some of the grape jelly had squirted out of it, partially missing the paper towel it laid on. Mace didn’t have to be an investigator to realize Martin was one messy dude. A large plop of jelly teetered on the formerly white lab coat that the man wore. He must wear more of his lunch than eat it.

  Martin’s glasses perched perilously on his face, the bridge riding down toward the end of his nose. Under the lab coat, he wore a robin’s egg blue button down shirt with a deeper blue tie, but the tie showed old stains. Being a messy eater wasn’t something new for this guy.

  Pushing his glasses back up his nose, Martin rose to his feet. “Can I help you?” he asked again, sounding annoyed this time—as if he wasn’t happy about the interruption.

  “I’m Mace Walker.”

  After a slight hesitation, a knowing look replaced the puzzlement in the other man’s face. He cleared his throat and extended his right hand. “Martin. Martin McConnell.”

  Mace stared at his extended hand. Peanut butter clung to his fingers. Martin followed his gaze.

  “Oh. Sorry.” He wiped his hand down the side of his lab coat, leaving a smear of the peanut spread. He extended it again, a bit cleaner this time.

  Mace grasped his hand and gave it a firm shake. Martin’s hand felt limper than a man’s should have and reminded him of shaking hands with a woman.

  “You’re Colby’s…uh…” A flush rose up Martin’s neck.

  “Yes, I am.” Mace perched a hip on the cluttered desk. “Sit. Sit.”

  Martin sat. “What are you doing here? Visiting Colby?”

  Mace gave him a crooked smile. “Actually, I came to see you.”

  “Oh.” The assistant’s eyebrows drew together. “Why?”

  Mace spotted a corner of a photo frame buried under a pile of papers and dug it out. A kneeling man who was not Martin appeared in the photo, hugging a Golden Retriever. The dog was handsome. The man? Not so much. Not that he was any judge of how good looking men were. He barked out a loud cough—one deep enough to remind himself of his masculinity.

  “Brother?” he asked a second later, turning the frame toward Martin, who shook his head.

  “No. I’m sorry, why are you here?”

  Mace tossed the frame on top of a mountain of files at the corner of the desk. “I just wanted to meet the man Colby…hangs out with all the time.”

  “Well, I don’t know if I’d call it hanging out. We work together.”

  “And hang out together.”

  “Occasionally.”

  “Yes, you like to go to flea markets.”

  “Auctions,” Martin clarified. “We both appreciate antiques and good deals.”

  “Marty—”

  “Martin,” he corrected, his glasses slipping precariously close to the end of his nose once again.

  “Martin. Do I have anything to be concerned about?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Apparently so. The guy’s eyebrows knitted together so hard, they became a unibrow.

  “Why did you send the roses?”

  The unibrow rose to his hairline. “Roses? I don’t know anything about roses.”

  “You didn’t send a dozen roses to Colby?”

  “No. Why would I?”

  He almost said “to get a piece of ass” but instead he said, “She’s a beautiful woman.”

  “Yes, she is. But…”

  Mace waited. And waited. He watched the color in Martin’s cheeks turn darker. The other man cleared his throat and fidgeted in his seat. If Mace kept silent long enough, the other man would spill the beans. Silence was a more effective investigation tool than drilling someone with questions.

  Martin closed his eyes and blew out a breath. He grabbed the photo Mace had earlier and held it up. “If I was going to send anyone flowers, it would be him.”

  Shit. Now the quirk made sense. “Oh. Well…”

  Mace stood up and paced in front of the desk. He, stupid ass that he was, had misjudged the relationship between Martin and Colby big time. Fuck. He was getting rusty. Sloppy. He had thought maybe Colby had a thing for nerds. Though Mace felt relieved he was wrong, since he certainly didn’t fit in that category.

  He stopped directly in front of the desk. Martin gave him a disapproving frown. “You thought Colby and I…That—”

  “No. No.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Okay, maybe. I wasn’t sure.”

  “We’re just friends and co-workers.”

  Mace grimaced. Okay, now he had to do damage control. Martin was sure to run to Colby with this. And she wouldn’t be happy.

  Fuck! He would have to tell her first.

  Damn. So, Martin wasn’t the one. Now he didn’t have a freaking clue who sent those flowers. That message. The subtle threat. He hoped it wasn’t anyone in his past. No one should know he was back in town. Unless someone was looking for him. Or someone was looking for Colby.

  Either way, he would keep an eye on her, make sure she stayed safe. He’d just have to suffer through it if it meant spending more time with her.

  Mace smiled.

  A hot, steaming bag appeared beside Colby. It smelled wonderful. Lunch. Her stomach had growled all morning since she’d skipped breakfast.

  “Thanks, Martin,” she said, without even pulling her eyes away from the microscope. She slipped a pencil out of her lab coat pocket and jotted down some notes on a pad.

  Martin didn’t answer. When the hair on the back of her neck stood up, she sat back and glanced straight up at Mace. “What are you doing here?”

  “What, no hello?”

  What was he doing in her lab? “No!” She stood abruptly, making him catch her chair before it fell backward.

  “I came to bring you lunch and deliver your car. I fixed it. Now I want my truck back.”

  “Fine.” She dug into her lab coat pocket and held out his keys. “Here. Take them.”

  Mace reached for them and seized her hand instead. She tried to move away, but he held on tighter.

  “Who let you in here? This area is off-limits to visitors.”

  “Martin let me in. We had a long talk.”

  “Why? What about?” She had a sinking feeling she knew.

  “You. You didn’t tell me about his sexual preference.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at him. “And he told you?”

  Mace at least had the decency to look guilty when he said, “I don’t think I left him a choice.”

  Colby finally tugged her hand away from his and sighed. “Oh, Mace. What’s wrong with you? He’s a good friend and co-worker. That’s all.”

  “I realize that now.” He pinned her with an accusing stare. “Why didn’t you tell me he didn’t like women? I mean…Well, you know what I mean.”

  “What does it matter?”

  “I thought—”

  “You shouldn’t have thought! You were thinking with the wrong part of your body. Men!”

  “Ouch, that’s not fair.”

  “Fair? Is it fair you terrorize my co-worker?”

  “No. I’m sorry.” He took a step closer, making her take one back.

  “Sorry!” She took another half-step back until her butt pressed against the counter. She had nowhere else to go, no way to escape.

  “Yes, and believe it or not, I apologized to Martin. Hell, I even bought him lunch. He’ll be gone for a while. I told him to take a nice, long lunch break.” He moved closer, making her widen her stance to accommodate his larger body.

  “You had no right.” She jammed a hand against his chest when he leaned into her. What the hell.

  He inclined close enough to place his lips on the shell of her ear and whisper, “I know, but I told him how hungry I was myself, and he understood.”

  Jesus. Heat licked at her cheeks. She’d never be able to look Martin in the eyes again.

  His tongue barely brushed the edge of her ear, but just enough to make her want him. Why did he turn
her on so easily? His thigh nestled between hers, and his erection pressed against her stomach. She shifted her hips, and her pelvis brushed against his good thigh. She bit her lip to muffle the cry she wanted, so wanted, to scream.

  “You look really sexy in that lab coat. Have anything on underneath?”

  “Yes,” she hissed and twisted her head away. He would not be forgiven that easily. Nope.

  He snagged her braid and turned her head back to him. His breath mingled with hers as he murmured, “Not for long,” against her mouth.

  Colby melted against the desk, and he took the opportunity to grind his thigh tight against her mound, just making enough movement to rub her clit.

  “Ah…What are you going to do?”

  Mace ran his tongue over her lips, dipping it for a quick touch of tongues before retreating. “Do you want me to tell you about it first or just do it?”

  She had to get control of herself. She was a professional, for goodness' sake. “Mace. This is a lab!” she reminded him, as well as herself.

  “I know. I’ll bet it’s one of your fantasies, isn’t it?” He ran his hand under her lab coat and along her blouse until his thumb brushed one of her hard nipples. He circled, circled, circled, then pinched.

  Colby’s toes curled in her shoes. She might come still fully clothed. Not possible. “N-no. The door—”

  “We’re alone.” He worked his other knee between her legs, making her spread them.

  Lord, this man made her panties soaked. Her skirt shimmied its way up to the top of her thighs the farther he spread her legs apart. Pinning her to the counter with his hips, he thrust against her once, twice. Then his hands moved to the back of her thighs and he lifted her up so the edge of her ass was on the counter. He adjusted his hips once more so she could feel the length of his shaft against the soaked line of her panties.

  “Mace…oh, oh shit…If we get caught…” Her heart thudded against her chest, and her breath came in quick pants. “This is not like the shooting range. I know these people; I work here.”

  She tried to slow her breathing, clear her head, but the hard line of his cock pressed in just the right spot.

  “That’s the excitement. Colby, I want you. I want you so badly, it hurts.”

 

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