Catching Heat

by Alison Packard

  “I haven’t been with anyone since I was with you.”

  “You’ve gone without sex for four months?” Angie asked incredulously.

  His lips twitched. “It’s not unheard of.”

  “Yes, but didn’t you just hear what I said? An overwhelming majority of Cosmo readers want to have sex with you.”

  J.T. chuckled. “That doesn’t mean I want to have sex with them. Contrary to what you may think, I’m selective when it comes to my sexual partners.”

  “But you could have any woman you want, anytime you want.”

  “That’s not quite true, is it? I wanted you the minute I met you in the Blaze front office but you wouldn’t give me the time of day.” He slid a hand to her belly. “At least until the night we made this baby.” He paused. “Has she been kicking?”

  “A little bit.” Angie placed her hand over his and smiled “We’ll get to see her on Monday when I go to the doctor. I wonder who she’ll look like.”

  J.T.’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned. “I don’t think we’ll be able to see who she looks like on the ultrasound.”

  “I meant when she’s born,” she clarified with a smile.

  He leaned forward and whispered, “I hope she looks like you.” His breath, warm on her lips, prickled her skin with awareness. “Angie?”

  “Hmmm?” she murmured.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  * * *

  In the dim light of his bedroom, with her glorious hair fanning out like a thick curtain over the pillow, Angie had never looked more breathtaking. J.T. had to commend himself on his restraint. As much as he wanted her, he’d promised her that he wouldn’t pressure her to have sex. And even now, when his control was about to snap like a frayed rubber band, he still had to be sure it was what she wanted. He couldn’t take the chance of being on the receiving end of her regret a second time.

  Her blue eyes were unreadable and he prayed that she wasn’t marshaling her defenses against him. If there was something he could say to convince her he wasn’t like her father he’d do it in a hot second. But promises were empty if not kept. The only thing he could do was to keep trying to prove to her that he could be trusted.

  “Did you really want me the first time we met?” she asked in a husky whisper.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t explain it other than to say it was an instant attraction. No other woman has ever affected me that way before.”

  “Then we’re even. No other man has affected me the way you do.”

  Knowing it would be so wrong—not to mention a bit juvenile—to pump his fist in the air, J.T. kept his expression neutral. “Not even Scott?”

  She wrinkled her pert nose as she shrugged. “I may have exaggerated my feelings for Scott.”

  “So you aren’t in love with him?”

  “No.”

  Fuck yeah. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, lifting his hand to caress her cheek. Her skin felt baby soft against his fingers. She tilted her head, leaning into his touch.

  “Why?”

  “Because when I make love to you I don’t want you thinking about anybody but me.”

  Her eyes darkened, sending an arrow of heat straight to his groin. “Are you going to make love to me soon?” She reached for his hand and pressed her lips to his palm. “Because I want you, J.T.,” she murmured against his skin. “I want you so much.”

  Desire surged through J.T.’s body. “How about right—”

  The pounding on the front door caused both of them to jump.

  “J.T. Open up,” Jake bellowed from the front porch, which—to J.T.’s chagrin—happened to be just below his open bedroom window.

  “What the…?” His thundering heartbeat echoed in his ears as he met Angie’s startled gaze.

  “J.T.! Angie!” Jake yelled. “Open the door.”

  “I’ll get rid of him.” Irritated at his brother’s rotten timing, J.T. rolled off the bed, left the room and bolted down the stairs. He had no clue why Jake was at his door, but if he’d dropped by for a brotherly chat he wasn’t going to be invited in. No way. No how. Not when Angie was naked in his bed.

  The hardwood floor was cold under his feet as he strode to the front door. He twisted the deadbolt and pulled the door open. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” J.T. demanded angrily as the cold air whooshed over his chest. He was so ticked off it barely registered.

  “I tried to call you.” Jake’s expression was grim, his skin pale. “I tried to call you both, but neither of you picked up.”

  “What’s wrong?” A sense of foreboding filled J.T. as Jake ran an agitated hand through his cropped hair. “Has something happened to Mom or Dad?”

  Jake shook his head. “It’s Justin. He’s been shot.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hospitals weren’t high on Angie’s favorite places to visit. The last time she’d stepped foot in one her grandmother had been losing her battle with cancer, and then all Angie could do was try to make those final days bearable for the woman who’d meant so much to her. Watching someone you love die wasn’t easy and neither was living without them. The loss of Grandma Sophia had left a hole in her heart that would never be filled.

  Now with that same sterile odor invading her nostrils, she sat on a blue vinyl covered bench, sandwiched between J.T. and Josh, who’d dashed into the waiting room just seconds after she’d arrived with J.T. and Jake. Josh’s shoulder length hair was loose around his shoulders, and in his navy blue UCD sweatshirt, faded jeans and sneakers, he looked every inch the college student he was. Like J.T, he’d been silent and still, only shifting on the bench when footsteps echoed on the linoleum near the waiting room’s entrance. So far, no one entering the room had anything to report on Justin but another family had just received the good news that their daughter had made it through an emergency appendectomy.

  Across from her, Jake and Joe Sawyer sat next to each other and spoke in low tones. Every so often Angie overheard the word undercover. It appeared—at least to her—that Justin had been wounded in the line of duty.

  After hastily dressing in black wool skirt and a burgundy sweater, she and J.T. had climbed into Jake’s Land Rover and the three of them made the trek to Sutter Hospital. The drive was mostly silent but the tension was palpable. Jake’s information was sketchy and it wasn’t until arriving at the hospital that they’d discovered that Justin had been shot in the leg—the upper thigh to be precise—and was in the operating room where a surgeon was in the process of removing the bullet. As gunshot wounds went it wasn’t the most critical wound J.T.’s brother could have sustained but, still, the mood in the waiting room was somber.

  Behind Jake and his father, Sharon Sawyer stood in front of a large window covered with white vertical blinds partially opened to reveal a view of the lighted parking lot beyond. Just minutes before, Sharon had calmly assured everyone that she was confident Justin would be fine—that it was just a flesh wound and he’d be out of the hospital in a couple of days. But now, with her back to her family and her arms wrapped around her slender body, she appeared vulnerable and somewhat fragile.

  Suspecting that Sharon’s confidence was a front, Angie turned to J.T. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered and at J.T.’s silent nod, she rose from the bench and moved to the window. “Sharon.” She lightly touched her mother-in-law’s shoulder. “Is there anything you need? Anything I can get you? Coffee? Or maybe some tea?”

  “No.” Sharon looked at her and Angie’s heart constricted at the fear and worry that clouded her usually cheerful face. “Thank you, but I—I don’t think it would do me much good right now.” She paused, blinking to keep unshed tears from spilling down her cheeks. “I expected this, you know.”

  “Expected what?”

  “That my son would end up here.” Sharon let out a shaky breath. “When he was seventeen, Justin decided he wanted to go into law enforcement. As much as I hated the thought of it, I didn’t try t
o talk him out of it. That boy is as stubborn as a mule and when he wants something he can’t be dissuaded. And of all my sons, he’s the biggest risk taker.” A tremulous smile played upon her lips. “When he was four he tied a towel around his shoulders and jumped off the back of the couch because he believed he could fly. And when he was seven, he ended up face down in a ditch after attempting to sail his bike over it. He really thought he could do it.”

  “Aren’t most little boys like that?” Angie asked.

  “To an extent, but Justin always took it to the next level. Ever since he started working undercover it seems all I do is worry. Especially when we don’t hear from him for weeks.”

  “Did this happen on the job?”

  Sharon nodded. “Before you arrived his captain was here,” she said. “He couldn’t say much, but evidently Justin was shot during a raid on a meth house. The two men in the house with him decided not to give up quietly and the officers had no choice but to return fire. One of the drug dealers—or whatever you call them—was killed. The other one got away.” She shuddered. “I thank God every day none of my other sons decided to follow in Justin’s footsteps. I’d be a basket case.”

  “So it’s true then.” Angie put a hand to her abdomen. “You never stop worrying about your children. Even when they’re adults.”

  “It’s true.” Her voice broke as she blinked back her tears. “You never stop being a mother.”

  Angie gently wiped a tear from Sharon’s cheek. “Are you sure you don’t want some tea? The doctor said it would be a while before Justin is out of surgery. Why don’t we go to the cafeteria?”

  One of Sharon’s brows ticked up. “Are you trying to distract me?”

  “Yes.” Angie smiled, not bothering to deny her motives. “But I’d also like to hear more about Justin. He sounds completely different from his brothers.”

  “Oh, he is. In fact, I’ll bet the first thing he’ll want to do when he gets out of surgery is go back to work. But this time I’m putting my foot down.” Sharon’s eyes flashed mutinously. “It’s almost Christmas. I’ll be damned if I’ll spend it worrying he’s going to get himself shot again.”

  * * *

  J.T. watched as Angie and his mother left the waiting room and headed in the direction of the cafeteria. His mother was the strongest woman he knew, but that strength was being tested tonight. The thing she most feared had finally happened and although Justin wasn’t in critical condition, it had to be tearing her up inside that he’d been shot at all.

  He understood her fear much more than he would have a month and a half ago. His and Angie’s baby wasn’t even born yet but the thought of anything, or anyone, harming their child caused a cold knot of anxiety to form in the pit of his stomach. He had a strong hunch that this parenting thing was going to be one hell of emotional rollercoaster ride.

  “Justin’s going to be all right, isn’t he?”

  J.T. shifted on the bench and met his younger brother’s worried gaze. “Yes. You heard Mom, the doctor said the bullet didn’t hit an artery or the bone. They’ll remove it and Justin will be out of here in a few days.”

  Josh nodded, pulled his phone from his sweatshirt pocket and began texting.

  Thirty minutes later, Angie and his mother returned to the waiting room and despite the circumstances, every nerve ending in his body kicked into high alert. Those few minutes before Jake had pounded on the front door were indelibly seared into his brain. For Angie to admit she wanted him was a huge step forward. He only hoped when this crisis was over she wouldn’t retreat into her shell and shut him out.

  After Angie gave him a reassuring smile J.T. swung his gaze to his mother, relieved to see her visibly more relaxed. As she went to sit next to his father and Jake, Angie moved toward him and plopped down on the bench between him and Josh.

  “How are you doing?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder then reached for his hand. “You’ve been quiet ever since we left the house.”

  “I’m fine,” he assured her, loath to admit he’d been scared shitless until they’d arrived at the hospital and discovered that Justin wasn’t bleeding to death in the emergency room. After imagining that gruesome scenario, a bullet to the thigh seemed considerably less frightening. “Where did you and Mom go?”

  “To get some tea.” Angie didn’t let go of his hand, instead she twined her warm fingers with his as if she’d been doing it for years. A lot had changed in just one day. “We talked about Justin and his many exploits as a child.” Amusement flickered in her eyes. “Do you think it’s possible our daughter might inherit her uncle’s love of danger?”

  “God, I hope not,” J.T. said and watched his father put an arm around his mother’s shoulders and pull her close. As she rested her head on his shoulder, Jake rose from the bench and gave Josh’s foot a kick.

  “Let’s go to the cafeteria.”

  “No cash, bro,” Josh replied, looking up at Jake.

  “So what else is new?” Jake said with a grin as Josh rose from the bench and followed him out of the waiting room.

  Angie glanced at his parents. “How much pull do you have with Justin?”

  “Not a lot,” J.T. admitted. “Why?”

  “Because your mom is afraid he’ll go back to work before he’s completely healed. Maybe you could talk to him and ask him to wait until after New Year’s.”

  With his free hand, J.T. scrubbed his jaw. Talking to Justin was like talking to a brick wall. Lately, his single-minded focus on his career took precedence over everything else—including his family. “I can try, but I can’t guarantee he’ll listen.”

  “Maybe if he knew how much he was missed at Thanksgiving and what it would mean to Sharon for him to spend Christmas with his family, he’ll wait until he’s completely healed to go back to work.”

  “I’ll tell him that,” he said, and squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

  Her luminous smile almost stopped his heart. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

  * * *

  Well after midnight, Angie stepped out of the shower and quickly dried herself with a plush towel. Despite the hour, she wasn’t tired—an unexpected cat-nap in the hospital waiting room had seen to that. As she applied her favorite jasmine scented lotion on her arms, she couldn’t help but think of J.T. and what had almost happened between them before Jake had shown up with the news about Justin.

  Now that Justin was officially deemed to be in stable condition and had an estimated release date of a few days, the mood in Jake’s SUV on the drive back to the house had been decidedly less tense. Still, there had been an undercurrent between her and J.T. that couldn’t be ignored. As she’d sat in the passenger seat beside Jake, Angie could feel the heat of J.T’s gaze hot on her skin and the effect was every bit as powerful as if he’d reached out and touched her.

  So color her surprised when—as soon as they walked into the house—J.T. mysteriously disappeared. A few minutes later, the sound of the water running upstairs indicated that taking a shower ranked higher on his list than talking to her.

  Slapping a palm full of lotion on her leg, she spread it evenly up to her thigh, completed the same task on her other leg and then slipped on her robe and left the bathroom. Ten minutes later, she was lying on her bed trying to read her pregnancy book. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t get past the first paragraph. Either it was because the passage dealt with a detailed description of what happened when the baby traveled through the birth canal, or she just couldn’t shake J.T.’s odd behavior. Just hours ago they’d been so close to making love and then at the hospital J.T. had seemed grateful for her presence. So what changed? And why?

  With a sigh, Angie closed the book and set it on the nightstand. She didn’t feel like reading about cervix dilation, or anything else pregnancy related. All she could think about was the fact that J.T. had done a complete about face ever since they’d returned from the hospital.

  Shoving the sheet and blanket aside, she sl
id out of bed and left her bedroom. She paused at the top of the stairs and noted the sliver of light under J.T.’s bedroom door at the opposite end of the hall. So he was still awake. And obviously not interested in picking up where they’d left off before Jake arrived.

  Pressing her lips together, she moved to the stairs and made her way down to the kitchen. After heating some water in the microwave, she made herself a cup of tea and carried it to the table. In the muted light of the kitchen, she wrapped her fingers around the warm mug and found a familiar comfort in the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the aroma of oregano and garlic that still lingered in the air.

  The first day she’d moved in she didn’t think she could ever feel comfortable in J.T.’s house, but in the space of a few weeks that had changed. Yes, it still needed to be fully furnished and there was more painting to be done, but it felt like home. A home she would leave in two years.

  I don’t want to leave.

  Angie emitted a gasp as the thought popped, unbidden, into her head. With trembling hands, she lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip of her tea. What in the world is happening to me? Nothing was going as she’d planned. She loved this house, she adored J.T.’s family, and J.T. had proven himself to be nothing like her father. Not even close.

  Rising from the chair, she carried her mug to the back door and stared at the placid surface of the hot tub, illuminated by the light of the moon. She closed her eyes and her stomach flip-flopped as she remembered the moist warmth of J.T.’s mouth on her breasts. She’d wanted him so badly tonight—just as she had the night their baby had been conceived.

  “I guess both of us couldn’t sleep.”

  J.T.’s low deep voice sent her heart into overdrive. Turning, she tightened her fingers on the mug as she met his solemn gaze from across the room where he leaned against the door frame. As usual, he was shirtless, wearing only his sweats. She lowered her gaze to his abs—abs so sharply defined they could grate a freaking block of cheese. Her stomach did another cartwheel and sexual awareness filled every cell in her body. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to return her gaze to his. “It appears so,” she said in a tone that bordered on frosty. Amazing, the rest of her wasn’t anywhere near cold.