Superior Collision

by C. A. Szarek

  Too bad it’s all one-sided.

  He should just go.

  The pieces of cheesecake sat on the plates Taylor had placed them on, each had a fork resting next to them, and a paper towel tucked neatly beside. She’d even folded the paper bag flat.

  Also on the coffee table, on the other side of her gun, mail was stacked, despite the fact it’d been opened. A pen lay next to a pad of paper near the envelopes, both also orderly.

  Shannon smirked. She was a neat freak to the core.

  The couch had a matching oversized stuffed chair to the left, with an ottoman sitting flush to it. A dark wood entertainment center took up most of the wall in front of him, with a flat screen TV that had to be about fifty inches.

  There were a few paintings on the walls, but nothing personal. Random art landscape scenes with the occasional farm house in the distance.

  The only framed photo made his gut tighten. It was on the entertainment center. Taylor and a dark-haired man sat for the camera, her in front of him, and his arms around her. The smile on her face was like none he’d ever seen, and he felt guilty as hell hoping for one like that turned in his direction.

  Damn, I really should go.

  “How do you like your coffee?”

  Shannon jumped and bit back a curse. He found her standing right inside the room, two steaming mugs in her hands.

  “Sorry I startled you.”

  “No worries. Was in my own little world.” He forced a smile.

  Taylor studied him until he squirmed.

  Shannon scrambled to his feet. “I’ll help you. No need for you to get it for me.”

  She nodded and he followed her into a galley kitchen that was just as neat as her living room. Small appliances were lined up on the counters, the double sink in the middle.

  There was a table with two chairs against the far wall, and the only thing on its surface was a full napkin holder, as well as salt and pepper shakers. They were perfectly centered, as were the chairs on either side of the table.

  “Sugar’s in that cupboard.” Taylor pointed above the sinks as she poured flavored coffee creamer in her black mug. It sported the FBI logo.

  Shannon retrieved the sweetener and put some in his mug. He liked her proximity, and wanted to move closer, to feel the heat coming off her body. “You like things clean and neat.”

  She nodded. “My dad’s career Navy. Kinda rubs off when you grow up that way.”

  “Ah. My dad was Army.”

  “Was?”

  “He’s gone now, since I was a kid, actually. It’s just Mom and my niece, Cailey.”

  They made their way back into the living room, falling into normal conversation. Shannon talked about his mother, and how he’d become the man of the house at seventeen, when a heart attack had taken his dad. Then how he’d lost his sister to a drunk driver and was helping his mom raise his niece. He talked about Cails a lot, actually. The kid was his heart. She was sassy and thirteen now, and he adored hanging out with her, even if she always knew everything.

  Taylor didn’t offer much conversation about herself, but he let it slide, and reveled in each smile she flashed. He basked in the few laughs she gave and smiled back when she slung a smartass remark at him. He didn’t mind sharing himself and his life in Antioch, or his past.

  “I have a new partner,” she said.

  “Oh yeah?”

  Taylor made a face and Shannon wanted to kiss her. He didn’t want to ruin the open conversation, so he leaned away and took a sip of coffee. The cheesecake was long gone.

  “How’s that going for you?” he asked when she didn’t answer.

  “It was just today, so I’m not sure. I don’t want a partner.”

  “Ah, so it wasn’t your choice?”

  She shook her head. Her hazel eyes clouded and darted to that picture on top of her entertainment center.

  Shannon’s gut ached all over again. He regretted his question. She obviously missed her fiancé and he couldn’t compete with a dead guy. Knowing of Taylor’s past was a double-edged sword.

  The night he’d taken her statement after she’d shot Manning’s brother, she’d been open about her case, and who John Murray had been to her. At the time, it hadn’t mattered.

  “Well, hopefully you’ll sort it out. Working with someone’s better than being alone.” He wanted to reassure her. Kiss her. Hold her. Shannon clutched his coffee mug instead. With both hands.

  She still avoided his gaze, but gave a slight nod. “It’ll be fine.” Her tone was unsure, not something he was familiar with, coming from her. “He’s young, a kid, really, only twenty-seven, and a transfer from LA, but he grew up in Dallas.”

  “Twenty-seven is a kid?” The words fell from his mouth—he was scrambling to keep conversation normal. “Like you’re so much older than that.”

  Taylor arched a fair eyebrow. “Isn’t it rude to ask a lady how old she is?”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t ask you how old you are.”

  “I’m thirty-four, if you must know.” One corner of her mouth lifted.

  “Hey, I didn’t ask!” Shannon laughed again, feeling some of the tension dissipate. “And you don’t look your age. So, you and your new partner probably both look like kids.”

  “Well…”

  “Well what?” He cocked his head to one side.

  “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-two.” If he knew her better, and the tension wasn’t there, he might tease her about cradle robbing.

  “His name is Alec Holman. My new partner, I mean.” When her eyes met his again, her vulnerability was palpable. “Thanks for the cheesecake.”

  His stomach did a back-flip. “You already thanked me.” He put his mug on the table, and ordered himself to keep his fingers joined in his lap.

  She blushed, making those freckles stand out, but didn’t look away. “I mean, thanks for coming over tonight. Even if you weren’t invited.”

  He smiled and brushed hair back from her face. Couldn’t help it. She looked sweet and innocent and he burned for her. His cock twitched. “Thanks for not shooting me.”

  The slight curve of her luscious mouth made his heartbeat kick up. “Too messy.”

  Shannon chuckled. “Good thing.”

  She sat sideways, facing him on her couch, one knee bent on the cushion between them. It prevented him from getting as close as he wanted to, but that was probably a good thing.

  Do not kiss her.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad you let me stay. I’ve had a nice evening with you again. Better than last night.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Taylor stilled, as if she didn’t like what she’d just said. She straightened her shoulders. Looked at the clock on her cable box, avoided his eyes. “Well, it’s getting late, and I need to get up early to run this cheesecake off.”

  Shannon sucked back a sigh. She’d retreated again. Expected, maybe, but it had a bite he didn’t want to admit. “You’re probably right.” He rubbed his thighs then pushed to his feet.

  He wanted to stay.

  Taylor looked up at him for a moment, then took the hand he offered her and stood next to him.

  Touching her, even just her slender fingers in his, was a bad idea, lighting his body up like a pinball machine, so he released her for both their sakes.

  She smiled, and it had a shy edge that gave him hope. “Will you call me before you leave town?”

  “Sure.” Shannon ordered himself not to read into it, and reached for his jacket.

  “Maybe we can do dinner again. On purpose this time.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “I’ll even let you pick the place.”

  “Nah, you live here, it’ll be better if you do. Your favorite, whatever.” He swung into his jacket, even though the last thing he wanted to do was hurry his exit.

  “Okay, Shannon.”

  He froze. His heart stuttered.

  Their gazes collided.

  Taylor’s lips parted and Shannon’s
resolve shattered. He slid a hand into her hair and settled it at the back of her neck. He tugged her forward and dipped down, pausing at the last second to allow her to pull away.

  She didn’t.

  His stomach and his cock jumped at the same time. He pressed his mouth to hers. Still, she didn’t tug away, or fight Shannon when he deepened the kiss. Soft and sweet, he tasted flavored coffee and cheesecake, and something that was just Taylor.

  She moved into his kiss, but didn’t throw her arms around his middle or his neck, so he held back, forcing his body to still. Letting her lead. Didn’t pull her into his arms like he wanted to either, but it didn’t matter. He was granite in his jeans and throbbing for her.

  Shannon pulled away on a pant before he grabbed her up, threw her over his shoulder and high-tailed it to her bedroom. He should go. Wouldn’t pressure her.

  Her hazel eyes were heavy lidded and hazy, passion-filled.

  He swallowed a groan and contented himself with caressing her cheek, brushing back that incredible hair. The strawberry-blonde waves were as soft as her skin. “I’ll call you.”

  Taylor nodded but it was the barest thing, like she was unaware of…everything.

  Whaddya know, he’d kissed her senseless, and it wasn’t even the best in his arsenal.

  Shannon smiled and forced his feet to the door.

  Chapter Ten

  Taylor watched the door, as if he’d step back through at any second. Her heart thundered in her ears and there was an ache between her legs she hadn’t felt in so long, she’d forgotten what desire was like.

  She stood there for a good five minutes. Replaying the sergeant’s exit.

  Shannon had kissed her.

  She’d let him.

  Worse, she’d kissed him back. Her body had responded, leaving her throbbing. Leaving her wishing he’d stayed.

  Guilt rose up and bit her when her eyes skimmed the picture of her and John on top of the TV. She’d lost him over a year ago, but it still felt fresh. Didn’t it?

  What the hell am I thinking?

  John wasn’t the only lover she’d ever had, but he was the only man she’d ever loved. The one she’d imagined being with for the rest of her life.

  She wasn’t ready for…intimacy yet, even if it was only just sex. No matter how glorious the man’s mouth moving over hers had been. Or how it’d made her crave more, his arms around her.

  The heat coming off his body had seeped through his tight cotton tee, but Taylor hadn’t wrapped herself around him. She’d felt his arousal, too. But he hadn’t pulled her to him, as if he could sense she’d feel…trapped. Would she have?

  She shook herself and swallowed.

  More guilt surfaced when she glanced at the remnants of dessert and coffee. Taylor didn’t regret spending the evening with the sergeant.

  He’d made her laugh. He’d shared himself with her in a way she hadn’t reciprocated, but Shannon hadn’t hounded her, or pressured her to talk about…anything.

  What did Shannon Crowley want from her? More than the obvious?

  He’d treated her like a person he’d wanted to get to know. No one had really shown genuine interest in her since—

  Her phone dinged.

  She glanced over her shoulder, but didn’t spot it. Cursed when she remembered seeing it last, when she’d let Shannon in.

  Taylor knelt on the couch and dug it out from between the cushions. She swiped her thumb across the screen to read the message.

  Back at my hotel. Have a good night.

  She smiled—couldn’t help it—and avoided glancing toward the picture of her and John.

  Taylor added Shannon’s number into her contacts and labeled him APD. Then she frowned. She still hadn’t called Jared Manning.

  She sighed and collapsed into the couch. It wasn’t quite nine p.m. She needed to call the Antioch detective.

  “It’s kinda late, isn’t it?” she whispered, then shook her head.

  Don’t rationalize, just get it done.

  She distracted herself by answering Shannon’s text.

  Thanks. You, too.

  Taylor waited a few minutes, but Shannon didn’t send a message back. She’d tried to buy enough time.

  Get it done.

  She sucked in a breath, then another. She thumbed through the vast list of names and numbers in her phone until she found the right one, and hit the green circle.

  It only rang two times.

  “Manning.”

  She recalled his deep voice as if they’d worked together yesterday. The memory that piqued most was him shouting at her, cursing at her, after she’d almost killed his brother.

  Words abandoned her, and all the good feelings from spending the evening with Shannon evaporated. Pressure descended and threatened to cave her chest in.

  “Hello?”

  She jolted. “Uh, sorry. It’s Carrigan.”

  Silence. Nothing less than she’d expected.

  “What do you need, Special Agent?”

  Surprise washed over her at the forced politeness. Definitely more than expected.

  “I need your brother’s help.” Silence greeted her again, lasting so long that Taylor finally winced.

  A bitter laugh sounded and she grimaced, even though he couldn’t see her.

  Never mind. The obligatory southern manners couldn’t last.

  Nothing less than she deserved.

  “Why the hell did you call me?” Manning’s voice was a mixture of commanding and incredulous. “You know where he’s at. You know how to go about it.”

  “I called, because—” She swallowed when her voice cracked. Because she felt guilty as hell, but she’d die before she’d admit that. “Professional courtesy,” Taylor finally pushed out.

  The detective laughed again, a harsh bark. “Thanks for waiting until he learned how to walk again. Sure he’ll appreciate that. Oh, he has a limp. One of his hands doesn’t work right. Because of you.”

  Taylor crushed her eyes shut, thanking God she was alone, but wishing for Shannon at the same time. She didn’t take the time to question that. “Jared…” she whispered.

  She’d already apologized. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—tell him how what she’d done was eating her up from the inside out. Or about her nightmares of watching his brother hit the kitchen floor in the safe house like a sick movie in slow-mo. All the blood.

  Again she was met with silence.

  A tear rolled down her cheek and she swiped it away.

  Emotion is weak.

  Taylor sucked in a breath. “I just thought you should know.”

  “Yeah. Well, thanks.” Manning’s sarcasm made more unwanted emotion well up.

  Her chest ached and it was hard to breathe. She’d known he would hate her forever, but hearing it in his tone was different. It almost…hurt.

  Why do you care? But she did. Even if she couldn’t put it into words.

  “How are things? I heard you got married. Congrats.” Taylor hoped her voice sounded as even, as normal, as she’d been going for.

  The detective chuckled. “We’ve never chatted casually, and we’re not about to start. Don’t pretend you give a shit about me or my life. Do me a favor. Lose my number.”

  She reared back as if he’d slapped her. Tried to reach for anger, but she couldn’t. Taylor didn’t blame Manning for how he felt, or how he was talking to her.

  Manning relieved her of the need to answer. “Hope my brother gives you what you need, Special Agent. Have a good night.”

  Then he was gone.

  Her head reeled.

  She should never have reached out to him.

  “What were you thinking?” she whispered. Her voice reverberated in her head.

  Maybe she’d wanted Manning to assuage some of the guilt…the hurt. No one but Taylor could do that, even if she couldn’t let it go.

  The psychiatrist her boss had made her see had urged her to forgive herself so she could move on.

  Yeah. Right.

  I
n the end, she’d said what she’d needed to say to be cleared for duty. That didn’t mean it’d been true, at the time, but the shrink had been convinced enough.

  Baker hadn’t, but Taylor had gotten her way, persuading him she was okay.

  She paced her living room, a hard back-and-forth until the burn of the carpet stung the bottoms of her feet. Taylor shot a glance to her phone and was torn between tossing it and grabbing for it.

  Shannon’s amber eyes popped into her head and she groaned, reaching for the cell with a hand that didn’t feel like hers. Her fingers shook as she found his number fast. Pounded the green circle before she could change her mind.

  It rang three, then four times.

  Her stomach twisted and disappointment crashed over her after the fifth ring, when his voicemail message sounded.

  She hung up.

  They’d spent the evening together, why did she need to call him the same night?

  Taylor headed to her room, cell phone still in hand. She should just hop in the shower and call it an early night. No need to reread reports she’d properly avoided. Or delve into others that would make her feel worthless. She’d just end up obsessing more about the morning’s trip…and Manning’s failed call.

  The cell vibrated in her hand. The ringtone made her shriek even though she’d heard it a million times.

  Her heart hit overdrive, and she hastily swiped at the screen. Had to do it twice—she missed the first time. “Hello?” Damn, she sounded out of breath.

  “Everything okay?” Shannon asked by way of greeting.

  Taylor swallowed. No. “Yeah.”

  “Good. Sorry I missed your call, I was in the shower.”

  She sucked back a groan when visions of him standing in her living room in that tight black shirt and those snug jeans—hugging his ass and thighs—popped into her head. If he looked that good with clothes on, she didn’t need naked fodder to contemplate.

  Especially with her body’s reaction to one little kiss.

  “It’s okay.” She winced as her words left her mouth on a croak.

  There was a pause.

  Taylor made it to her bedroom, closed the door and fought the urge to lean into it. Or slide down it until her yoga pants hit the carpet.