“This has to reduce to half a cup in eleven minutes,” she said. Her nipples hardened beneath his fingers.
“How long has it been?” he asked, watching her cook from over her shoulder as he continued to gently tease her body.
“About nine.”
He had two minutes to play.
“The pork is four minutes on each side. We’re into two on the second side.”
Timed perfectly. He wasn’t surprised.
“It smells wonderful.” His nose was just above the mass of blond curls.
“Yes. Well, if you want to eat food, you better back away. Another second or two of that and the pork can burn.”
He was glad to hear it.
But went to find a corkscrew and tend to the wine.
She’d set the small table in her kitchen. It was just an eat-in alcove, and the table—a high-top—only sat four. But the walls were decorated with French cooking art and the alcove was cozy. This wasn’t dining room entertainment. They weren’t an item.
“I figured us for the table I saw this morning out by the pool,” he told her, bringing their glasses of wine to the table. She’d said she was fine, but the drapes were all drawn and...if she was scared, they should talk about it.
“Since this is personal and we’re not starting something, I’ll just tell you that I had an incident last night and would prefer to stay indoors.” She put the plate of pork in the middle of the brown wood high-top. Added a gravy boat of sauce. Pulled some little red potatoes and fresh green beans out of the oven.
“Let’s toast,” he said, holding up his glass before either of them sat. And when she lifted her glass to his, added, “To being friends with benefits.”
She hesitated, studying him, and then clicked.
He sat.
“I’m fine,” she said before he had a chance to figure out how to bring up the vandalism that had her hiding out behind closed blinds. “I just... Until...well... I felt like a sitting duck, being in here knowing someone could see in.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he told her. “You’re taking the threat seriously.”
“It’s my first,” she told him as if that was some big secret or something to be ashamed of. “Others in the office have had them, but always sent to the office. And, like, in the eight years I’ve been there, there’ve only been three.”
“Did they find out who sent them?”
“Nope. And nothing ever happened to the addressees, either.”
The threat against her had come to her home. “Is there anyone in your personal life—anyone who might think you could expose something?”
She’d said her ex-husband had been a high-powered attorney, not always working with the most law-abiding clients.
“What personal life?” she smirked. And then, “Seriously, I work all the time. I haven’t dated in over a year. This person just told me to ‘leave it alone.’ That’s not like someone who’s mad at me personally. Or jealous or anything. It’s someone who wants me to quit working on something I’m working on. It has to be. Work is all I do. Chantel is going through my current cases...”
He agreed with her.
“I’m sure it’s Bill.”
He’d visited with Bill that afternoon. And with a couple of his neighbors. “He was home all night. I’ve got a witness who saw him through his living room window, watching the game.”
“What time?”
“Around nine.”
“I was almost home by then.”
“I’ve verified that his truck was in his driveway at six. And again between seven thirty and eight.”
“The security camera showed Bill walking in the gate behind a car at just after seven. And even if he was home, he could have paid someone in the neighborhood, or elsewhere, to do it for him.”
She had an argument for everything—because, in her job, she’d seen just about everything.
He didn’t want to spend the evening arguing.
* * *
Emma didn’t really want to talk about this case any further. Or any of them. She wanted to forget, for a few minutes at least, that someone was going to be pissed when she didn’t “leave it alone.” Whatever that meant.
And that whoever it was was fairly certain she’d know who he was. The only defendant she knew who’d ever given her cause to fear for her life was Bill Heber. The way he’d looked at her in the courtroom...there was no way she’d imagined the anger simmering beneath his surface. The only thing standing between him and his wife had been Emma and he wasn’t going to have that.
In the end, he’d been right. She hadn’t been able to stand between him and Suzie.
There was a new end in sight now. And she wasn’t backing down.
“Did you have a chance to check any of the drugstores for lipstick purchases?” she asked because they had to talk and she didn’t dare venture into conversation that would make her like Jayden Powell any more than she already did.
She wasn’t going to satisfy her curiosity where his life was concerned. Only his body.
Take it or leave it. That last was for her shadow side. The demon side that had been tempting her to throw all her lessons to the wind and hook up with the parole officer. If he’d have her.
One of her safety nets was that he didn’t want a relationship any more than she did. Even if she lost her mind and begged, he’d say no...right?
“Two of the three places that sell lipstick within the vicinity of Bill’s phone app activity have already been crossed off,” he said. “The third said that the clerk who’d been on all week would be in on Monday. I’ll check back then. And no, no one recognized him, or remembered any man buying lipstick.”
He could have picked it up at the big-box store at the edge of town, she thought to herself.
“What’s that?” Jayden was looking at the calendar on the side of her refrigerator. She never sat in that seat. Never noticed the calendar in view from there.
“A calendar.”
“It’s got X’s on most of the days. You counting down for something?”
So, this was embarrassing.
“It’s my cycle. So I’ll know when I’m ovulating.” Just one of those personal things that had nothing to do with him.
His face lost all expression. It was like he was there with her and then he wasn’t.
“You’re trying to have a baby?” She was pretty sure a guy couldn’t look more horrified.
“No!” Standing, she carried her plate to the sink. Poured a tad bit more wine. “Well...yes, but not right now,” she corrected herself, rinsing her plate and then moving back to get his. “I’m not using you for your sperm, if that’s what you’re afraid of. As a matter of fact, I’m making certain that we aren’t...satisfying this thing between us...when I’m ovulating.”
He stood, too, helping to clear the rest of the table. “Glad to have that cleared up.”
With the water running, she stopped to stare at him. “You actually think I’d do that?” What did it matter what he thought? They weren’t going to be together.
“I don’t. But it’s a bit of a shock to be having sex with a woman who announces that she’s tracking when she ovulates.”
He was looking more like himself. Topped off his glass of wine, though he’d only taken a few sips of what he’d had to begin with. He really should have brought some beer.
Or she should have picked up some. She’d seen the six-pack in his refrigerator the night before. She knew what he liked.
“It’s all part of my life plan,” she said. “I know I’m never going to marry again. Or be in a long-term committed relationship. I’m not looking for a man to father a child. But I want a family. I’ve had a child growing inside me. I’ve never gotten over losing it. That alone tells me how badly I need to be a parent. I’ve already got an anonymous donor picked out.”
“You need to be a parent.”
Leaning against the cupboard, he watched while she finished rinsing the sink, wiping down the faucet. “Don’t you?” she asked. “Someday?”
“Absolutely not.”
“You sound pretty sure about that.”
“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”
Okay then, that was clear.
“I’ve been seeing a fertility specialist,” she told him, taking her wine into the living room. Heading back to bed didn’t seem like such a fine idea at the moment. It wasn’t even dark outside. Maybe a movie would be good. Something a bit raunchy. “My first attempt to conceive was this past month. That’s what the calendar was for. I was inseminated a little over two weeks ago and found out on Wednesday that the attempt was unsuccessful.” And if the news scared him off, so be it. They weren’t starting a relationship. They were having sex. And it was going to end sometime.
He sat on the couch, so close their thighs were touching.
“I’m sorry.” His gaze was warm again. Sincere.
“For what?”
“I’m sorry you had bad news. And sorry that I overreacted like a first-rate jackass.”
She thought for a second. Nodded. “I’d say, given the circumstances, some bit of unease was natural.”
Mostly what she thought was that the man got more incredible every time she was with him. He’d apologized. Acknowledged that he’d been a bit harsh there for a second. No one was perfect, but when you were with someone who was willing to take honest looks, to admit to mistakes...
Keith had never done that. Drake, either. Never. Ever. Both of them. Like it was in the wild man’s genes to believe they were invincible. Never wrong.
Like Jayden believed himself about Bill Heber.
Still, he’d admitted he could be wrong. He’d see reason about Bill, too, once they had enough proof. And in the meantime, he was keeping close tabs on the guy so she knew Suzie would be safe.
“So why such a strong reaction?” she asked him.
“You know the reason. I’m on my second chance. What’s left of my life is about serving others. About making them feel good. Not about me.”
“So...you don’t think you could be a great dad someday? Not now. Now with me. But someday? You’re loyal. Hardworking. You give people the benefit of the doubt. And believe in forgiveness...some child could benefit from that.”
He took another sip of wine. Not looking at her anymore.
“I’m not going to have what I took from someone else.” He’d said something similar the other day. When they’d agreed to have a fling. Rather than a relationship.
“You took someone’s ability to be a father?”
“Not directly, but yes.”
“How?”
“You’re breaking the rules now.”
She supposed she was. “I told you about my past.”
“I’m sorry, Emma. I’m not going to tell you about mine. Take it or leave it.” His head turned sideways, their shoulders and thighs touching. He gave her such a serious look, she had to take a moment to absorb it.
Whatever had happened to him went deep. Too deep.
“Okay,” she said, still holding his gaze, as serious as he was.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I am.”
Chapter 15
They had sex again and again that whole night. Jayden couldn’t get enough of her, in enough ways. He thought about the pool, but didn’t want to take her out to real-life memories that would intrude on them.
Her room was like some kind of womanly garden, a hive where desire swarmed thick as honey. It wrapped around them, creating some kind of masterpiece. Not a relationship. Or a future.
Or a child. He had no doubts about that.
But it was something that would always exist. Even if only just in that one memory.
They worked hard at it. Sweating, panting. At one point there were tears in her eyes. She’d been on top of him, had just had an orgasm, and as she’d looked down at him, he’d seen the moisture. She made a joke then. Moved around on his body, distracting the hell out of him, and the moment was gone.
The next morning, though, it was as if the night had never been. Things were strictly professional again. The fact that she was so close to having a child made it a little easier for him to find his necessary distance. He’d been more than a little surprised to hear that.
“People remember what they see,” Emma told him as she brought him coffee in bed. It was Sunday; he didn’t have to rush off. Apparently she had things to do. She didn’t join him under the covers, but rather, in shorts and a T-shirt, curled up in the armchair in the corner of the room. “They don’t remember what they don’t see.”
“Okay.”
“Bill’s truck,” she said, barreling right on ahead, as though they were sitting in either of their offices, a desk separating them rather than a few feet of bedroom carpet. “Someone saw it at six. Someone else around eight. No one saw it between those two times.”
“No one saw him leave.”
“But they didn’t see him there, either.”
Right. Grabbing his phone, Jayden checked his location app. Called up Bill’s profile. It said he was at work.
At eight on a Sunday morning? Was it possible Bill was planting his phone on purpose? Outmaneuvering him? Manipulating him?
Excusing himself, saying he had to make a call, he pulled on his shorts and went outside, dialing Bill as he went. If the man was in Santa Raquel... If he—
“Bill Heber,” the parolee answered on the second ring. As always. “And yeah, I’m working on Sunday morning,” he said. He would have seen Jayden’s number come up.
“The shop’s closed.”
“Johnson asked if I minded coming in. We got jobs piling up and he knows I don’t have anything better to do. Besides, I’d rather be earning money than sitting in front of the television set.”
“Okay, good.” He’d overreacted. Was letting Emma get to him. Maybe in more ways than one. Pushing away a brief flash of the night he’d just spent—the physical and emotional power he’d allowed the woman to have over him—he focused on his client. “Everything going okay?”
“Since we spoke yesterday, you mean?”
“Yep.”
“I’m a getting a bit nervous, actually,” Bill said. “You being in touch so much. Like you think I might be up to something.”
“Are you?”
“What do you think?” Bill replied.
“It doesn’t matter what I think. Are you?”
“No.” Then, “Of course not.” Another pause and then Bill said, “I thought you were different.”
“How so?”
“I thought you were giving me a straight shot. I trusted you with...like a weakling or something, telling you all that stuff about me. My regrets. You didn’t believe a word of it, did you? To you I’m just an ex-con who can’t help himself from screwing up again.”
“That’s not true.” He was different. “Believe it or not, I’m protecting you, Bill.” Jayden knew when the words came out of his mouth that he’d said too much.
“So they’re looking at me? Someone thinks I already did something? Something’s happened to Suzie, then? Is that what you’re telling me?”
Jayden could almost feel the man’s tension ratchet up along with the change in voice tone.
Damn. He was off his game. Too filled with sex. With Emma.
He’d said he wouldn’t allow it to affect his work. He’d meant what he’d said. To Bill and to himself.
“Suzie’s fine. At home and planning to go to work tomorrow, as far I know,” he said. “Don’t go getting all half-cocked on me and try to see her. I swear to you, she’s fine.”
At the moment. Because she was under police watch.
“Then why all the attention?”
“I just know I’ve been alerted to check in with you. And the more I do so, the more proof I have that you’re innocent of anything that could come up in the future. You can trust me, man.”
Unless the man reoffended. Then Jayden would be his worst enemy.
“I swear to God, I have not raised a hand to Suzie—or anyone—since my release. Nor am I going to do so.”
Since his release. Bill had said many times that he hadn’t ever hurt Suzie, and never would. It was the first time there’d been a disclaimer with the statement. Could be that Bill was specifying because they were discussing a current situation. But what if Emma was right? What if Bill had hit Suzie in the past? Did that change the now?
Having a second chance meant you’d blown your first one. What was past was past and you were starting over. Right? Getting it better the second time around. Had Bill lied to him about what he’d done the first time?
“Did you ever hit her in the past?”
“Not like that bitch prosecutor said.” Bill’s disregard for Emma came out loud and clear, but that was nothing new to Jayden. Not from Bill or other offenders. Not many people were fond of those who put them away. To be rabidly accused, in front of a panel and courtroom of witnesses, in minute detail... Even if you were guilty, that was a tough gig.
And no matter how used he was to that kind of prosecutor battering conversation, it rankled more than a little to hear it directed at Emma. And made him a bit less fond of Bill Heber.
“But you did hit her?”
“I might have raised a hand to her a time or two. But I swear, Jayden, a slap, that’s all it was. When I was sure she was lying to me about seeing another guy. I know it was wrong, unforgivable. But it was nothing like that Martin woman accused me of. Nothing. I die every day thinking about that baby we lost, all because of me. Because of my insane jealousy making her so stressed she couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep...”
The pain in Bill’s words resonated with Jayden. After all the years he’d been doing the job, he’d learned to detect true remorse. Had always been pretty decent at reading people, even back when he’d been mostly about himself. Back then it had been a way to make sure his own world moved smoothly.
Shielded In The Shadows (Where Secrets Are Safe Book 17) Page 13