Coming In Hot Box Set

by Gina Kincade

  “She sure thinks she is.” Jack looked at the clown photo and shuddered. Goddamn, those floppy red shoes and the way those googly eyes seemed to follow him around the room. Shit!

  “Now I know where you get your penchant for bad blonde jokes,” Rosie said, a grin lighting her face. “You take after your mother.”

  “Whoa there!” Jack held up a protesting hand. “That’s not the same thing at all. My jokes are good.”

  Rosie snorted. “See that birdcage? That’s what your jokes sound like to me.”

  “That’s it. No breakfast for you.” Jack shook a finger at her. “You can just watch me eat a big plate of bacon and eggs. Then you can do the dishes. Still think my jokes are bad?”

  “The worst.”

  “Fine. Be that way.” Jack pretended to stalk angrily for the kitchen. Laughing, she followed him.

  Jack set about finding the eggs, bacon, butter, and two pans.

  “Want me to make some coffee?” Rosie asked hopefully.

  “Hell, yes.” Jack peeled strips of bacon from the package and set them in one of the frying pans. “But you don’t get to drink any.”

  Rosie stuck her tongue out before running cold water into the coffee carafe. “Where are your filters and the coffee?”

  “Second set of cabinets past the sink.” Jack snuck a cautious look over his shoulder to watch her reach down the filters. She had to go on tiptoe to do it and her tank top rode up exposing an enticing flash of bare skin. Looked like she wasn’t going to run out on him just yet. Maybe he could persuade her to give things between them a go. But best to take it really slow. Sneak around the issue rather than confront it head on. Rosie could be so damn stubborn. Things had to be her idea, which was fine by Jack as long as those ideas fit in with his. Them together was going to happen. He hadn’t wanted something so fiercely in too long to remember. He wasn’t giving in without a fight.

  “You like your eggs scrambled or fried?” he asked.

  Rosie paused scooping coffee into the filter. “I thought I didn’t get breakfast.”

  “I’m going to take the high road and be nice. Scrambled or fried?”

  “Scrambled. Like your brain.” She flicked on the coffee maker and burbling sounds signaled precious caffeine would soon make an appearance. Bacon sizzled in the pan, and the kitchen filled with the delicious scents of breakfast.

  While Jack cooked, Rosie retrieved the dishes from the living room and set about rinsing them and loading the dishwasher. She even set the table. As he dished out the eggs, she poured steaming coffee into mugs.

  “We make a great team.” Jack placed strips of bacon on a paper-towel covered plate to catch the grease and carried the plate to the table.

  Rosie sat with her coffee in hand staring out the window. “Rain’s cleared up. I’m glad. I hate it when it rains on my days off. I like to get outside and garden.”

  Jack pictured her in a sun hat and garden gloves kneeling on the green grass as she weeded a colorful flower bed and smiled.

  “I was planning to go camp by Mirror Lake,” Jack said. “Maybe get some sketching done.”

  “You camp?” Rosie sounded wistful. “My family used to camp around Mirror Lake when I was a kid. I know some good campground sites. I could draw you a map if you like.”

  Jack grinned as he scooped up a huge forkful of eggs. “I’ve got an even better idea. Why don’t you come with and show me yourself?” He watched her struggle with the idea as he chewed. He suspected she was looking for reasons to shoot him down, but also that the idea attracted her. Hell, why not? It was an awesome one after all.

  “What happened to taking things slow?” she asked.

  “We’re going camping not to a Vegas wedding chapel. This is slow.”

  At the mention of a wedding chapel, her eyes widened and pure terror passed across her face. He couldn’t help but laugh. She was so easy to scare.

  “Don’t laugh at me! You’re a crazy man!” She threw her balled-up napkin at his face, which he deflected with a hand. “Freaking certifiable.”

  “So you’ll go? I’ve got a tent big enough for two and an extra cot and sleeping bag.” He snatched a piece of bacon from the plate and crunched into it. “Of course, we can push the cots together and zip the sleeping bags into one big one. Unless that’s too fast for you.”

  “You just want a captive audience to torture with your blonde jokes.” Rosie forked up some eggs.

  “Yeah. When we’re not having wild tent sex I’ll tell you some jokes, sure. You don’t have to beg.” Jack leaned back in his chair and smirked.

  “Like I said.” Rosie pushed back her chair. “Freaking certifiable. Crazy as a loon.” She walked to the hall archway. “Well, come on. Are you going to eat or are you going to drive me to my place so I can pack? You’re the one who said you wanted to go camping, but maybe you really just want to sit around on your ass cracking dumb jokes.”

  Score! Jack jumped to his feet. This was going to be one hell of a camping trip.

  Chapter EIGHT

  Rosie rode shotgun in Jack’s Jeep. Her ponytail fluttered in the breeze through the open window. She pulled at the brim of her bright red ball cap so the sun didn’t catch her straight in the eyes. Jack hummed along to a song on the radio. He had more than a halfway decent voice. Singing. Another thing he could do she couldn’t.

  Rosie grimaced to herself. Bet he couldn’t heal people with his hands. That was one area where she could beat him. Hands down you could say.

  “Shit!” Rosie knuckled her forehead until it hurt. Just stop now. Tell him about her healing hands and get it over with and out there. Then watch everything fall to pieces.

  Jack broke off humming the bridge of John Legend’s “All of Me” and gave her a quick glance before refocusing on the road. “What’s wrong? Have you got a headache?”

  “Sun in my eyes.” Liar. Coward, coward, coward.

  Rosie gazed out the window. Beyond the road past a small belt of spring-green trees, Mirror Lake glimmered in the sunlight. The pale oval of water seemed to reach into infinity, but it stretched longer than it was wide.

  “The turn-off to the lake access road is your next right,” she said.

  Jack reached over to squeeze her knee. A lump formed in Rosie’s throat. Instead of pushing his hand away, she laced her fingers with his. He threw her a surprised look. Hope lit up his face.

  Rosie looked away before they were overwhelmed, and he ended up driving into a ditch. She saw a black SUV with a familiar ski rack and license plate parked on the shoulder. Rico. What was he doing out here? She stole a look at Jack, who didn’t seem to recognize the car. He’d only been working at the station for two weeks; he probably hadn’t had time to memorize everyone’s vehicles. He’d seemed to know she drove the Mustang though. Warmth shot through her system. He’d noticed everything about her from the start, hadn’t he? Not merely because they were partners.

  As they drew even with the SUV, tree branches parted, and Rico stepped out onto the dirt. Crap. Rosie ducked down in her seat not wanting to be seen.

  Jack stared at her for a second, then said, “That’s Rico.”

  “Don’t stop,” she pleaded.

  Jack’s mouth tightened. “You don’t want him to see us together. Is that it?”

  “No!” Rosie cried, sitting up straight, forgetting she wanted to hide. “That’s not it at all!” How could she explain she didn’t want Rico to know about them because he’d tell the whole station, and everything would become so much more complicated than it was already? She surely didn’t have time to try at this second with Rico staring at the Jeep in astonishment.

  “Stop the car, Jack.” Rosie took a deep breath.

  “Why? Because he’s recognized us and now it would be rude not to stop?” The bitterness in Jack’s tone made her wince.

  For a moment she thought he would keep going, but all at once he hit the brakes and stopped the Jeep. After shifting into reverse, he backed up until they were even with Rico’s
SUV.

  “Hi, Rico.” Rosie tried to smile, but wasn’t sure she succeeded.

  Rico continued to stare at them for a second before moving to the back of the SUV and placing a hand on the rear window. He kept weirdly quiet and didn’t return her greeting. What the hell was up with him?

  “What brings you out here?” she asked, trying to start even a superficial conversation. Anything would beat the silence.

  Rico continued to stare at her for moment before he said, “Fishing.” He craned his neck to see past her into the interior of the Jeep. “Are you with Jack?” The condescending amusement in his voice put Rosie’s back up.

  “Yeah,” she said, chin jutting. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing,” Rico said. “Just a little – surprising is all. The way you usually hate your partners I would have thought spending time off with him would be the last thing you wanted to do.”

  “Well, then you would have thought wrong.” Rosie scowled at him. Now she wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “Why aren’t you with your kids? Heard they were moving out of state soon. The way you love them, I would have thought you wouldn’t waste time fishing alone when you could be with them.” She regretted the words the moment they were out of her mouth, but damn it, he’d started it!

  “Low blow, D’Angelo.” Rico’s face darkened. Rosie made an instinctive grab for the window control.

  “Come on, you guys.” Jack exited the Jeep and walked around so he stood between Rosie and Rico. He smiled. “We’re not going to let things get ugly here, are we? It’s our days off. Let’s be cool.”

  “I’m fucking cool,” Rico snarled, looking anything but. “She’s just got a big mouth, and sometimes I get sick of it.” He stared at Jack. “You must be a glutton for punishment bringing her out here and voluntarily listening to it when you don’t get paid to do it.”

  Goddamn him. Why hadn’t she ever noticed what a sexist pig Rico was? Situations right here were exactly why she never socialized outside of work. Now just the sight of his face made her burn with anger.

  “Shut up, Estrada!” Rosie yelled, fumbling for the door handle. “I said I was sorry. Don’t be an asshole.”

  “You did?” Rico gave her a flat stare. “I didn’t hear any apology.”

  Rosie balled her hands into fists. She worked with this guy. Taking the high road rankled, but, damn it, what else could she do? In as civil a voice as she could muster, she said, “I’m sorry I said what I did. I’m the asshole. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Rico said. “As long as you do know you are the asshole.”

  The top of her skull hurt so much Rosie thought for sure it might blow the fuck off, but she controlled her temper by counting to ten in her head.

  “Where’s your fishing pole?” Jack asked.

  Rico stopped glaring at Rosie to turn his gaze on Jack. “What?”

  “Fishing pole,” Jack said patiently. “You said you were fishing, and you came out of the trees just now, but you don’t have a pole.”

  “What the fuck difference does it make whether I have a pole?” Rico sputtered. “If you must know, I was scouting for a likely fishing hole. I came back here to get my pole because I found one. Is that all right with you, Grady, or did I break a law or something?”

  “Wow. We just stopped to say hello. It doesn’t need to turn into a big thing,” Jack said.

  Rico’s neck swelled as he obviously tried to keep from yelling. “Maybe you should have kept on driving.”

  “Sorry to bother you. See you next shift.” Jack walked back to the driver’s side and climbed behind the wheel.

  Rosie and Rico locked gazes and neither looked away as the Jeep moved forward, gathering speed before making the turn onto the access road.

  “God, he’s a jerk.” Rosie slouched in her seat and pulled the brim of her cap down so far she couldn’t see anything but her drawn-up knees.

  “I think he’s going through a tough time,” Jack said quietly.

  She peeked up from beneath her brim and grimaced. “Aren’t we all? Doesn’t mean he has to act like a prick to me.”

  “It doesn’t usually help to put out a fire by throwing more fuel on it.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Obvious. Why do you have to be everyone’s best friend all the time? Seeing both sides of every goddamn situation? Jesus, you’re a bigger prick than Rico, I swear.” Oh, fuck. A tidal wave of shame washed over her. “I’m sorry. Jesus, I can’t believe I said that.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You kinda just proved my point.” Jack’s jaw bulged, and Rosie knew she’d managed to piss him off.

  The Jeep bumped along the narrow dirt road until Rosie, her voice small, said, “In a few yards there’s a stone fence and a gate. Park in front of the fence, and we can hike in to set up camp. Anywhere in that field would be good. We can get right up onto the shore if you want.” She gulped and stole a look at his face. He had absolutely no expression at all, which, for Jack, had to mean he was boiling mad.

  She cleared her throat miserably. “Unless you want to turn around and bring my ass back to town. There’s room to do that too.”

  Jack guided the Jeep off the road and cut the engine. Rosie stared at the meadow beyond the low stone wall, her throat tight.

  He thrust open his door. “Rolling stones may meet lots of people, but they don’t make many friends, let alone best ones.”

  “Jack!” Rosie reached out to him, but he’d already slid to the ground.

  Rosie pushed open her door and rushed to the back of the Jeep where Jack unloaded the camping equipment. Did that mean he wanted her to stay with him? If so, why wouldn’t he look at her?

  “You can spend your whole life in one place and still not have friends,” she said. “Just lots of familiar faces who wave hello after you do it first. I’m sorry. Please talk to me.”

  He leaned his forehead against the Jeep.

  “Even one of your blonde jokes would be great right about now.”

  The smallest smile ever quirked his lips.

  He straightened and tossed her a rolled-up sleeping bag. “Go on, lead the way. You pick our campsite.”

  Not sure whether she might laugh or cry, Rosie trekked across the meadow. Honey bees sipped nectar from clover blossoms while birds twittered from the trees lining the shore.

  Beyond them, waves lapped to shore, gurgling over the flat rocks. A rough sand beach separated the trees from the water. Rosie walked until she nearly hit the sand.

  “Here,” she said, dropping the sleeping bag onto the twig-strewn grass. “This is perfect. We can make a campfire on the beach tonight and toast S’mores.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Jack slid the straps of the tent holder off his shoulders and turned back to the Jeep. “I’ll go get a second load. How about you gather some of these stones to make a fire ring. Then you can help me set up the tent, okay?”

  Thankful he was talking to her, even smiling at her again, Rosie nodded.

  By the time she’d gathered several stones and arranged them in a ring, Jack had most of the tent erected. She hurried to help him with the last touches, and they set up the cots. She remembered how he’d said they would push them against each other and zip the sleeping bags together, but he put his on one side next to the tent wall.

  Tears stinging her eyes, she pushed hers from the center toward the other side of the tent opposite his. Maybe it was better to sleep apart. Hadn’t they agreed to take things slowly?

  She couldn’t help the sob that escaped her when he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and pulled her against his body. He rested his chin on her shoulder.

  “Sorry,” she whispered miserably. “I’m a terrible person. I know.”

  “No, you aren’t.” He kissed her neck softly.

  She turned in his arms so she could meet his mouth with hers, and they melted into each other. Just like last night, he brought his hands up to cup her face, which made her feel cherished in a way she’d never experienced before. She tried t
o express with her body what she could not tell him with her words. She smiled against his mouth when he pulled off her ball cap and threw it into a corner.

  He moved his hands beneath the bottom of her tee shirt and slid them upward to cup her breasts. Her knees went weak. She cradled his face between her hands, going up on tip toe to kiss him harder. He hadn’t shaved this morning. Beard scruff scratched her skin, sexy as hell.

  “I could get pretty used to having you around, Great Eagle,” she whispered between kisses.

  “Rosie.” He stiffened against her and stopped kissing her, his eyes wide with shock.

  He let go of her and took a step backward, shaking his head as if he couldn’t face what was happening.

  Rosie swallowed a constricting lump in her throat. What had she said?

  “I…” Jack took a deep breath but wouldn’t meet her eyes. He seemed to be staring at the tent’s entrance. Rosie swung around. Jesus, was someone there? A bear? A frigging moose maybe?

  Nothing. The tent flap hadn’t even moved, and nothing beyond it cast any shadows she could see.

  “I gotta go.” Unbelievably, Jack darted around her and pushed back the tent flap.

  “What? Where the hell are you going? Jack? She called. “Jack!”

  The sound of running footsteps was her only answer.

  ***

  In the middle of the best kiss of his whole life, Jack had made the mistake of opening his eyes. The ghost stood just inside the tent, her ruined face leaking phantom blood all down her tee shirt. Gory, red blotches obscured the shirt’s caption, “I’m Single, You’ll Have to be Freaking Amazing to Change That”. Dark hair pulled back into a ponytail also dripped blood. Someone extremely angry at her had bashed her face in either before or after stabbing her repeatedly in the chest.

  Jack’s neck tingled. Every hair on his arms stood straight up and his special senses kicked in as the spirit opened her mouth.

  “My kids,” she said in a ghastly, agonized voice. “Someone has to tell my kids I’m dead.” She pointed a finger at Jack. “You need to come with me.”