That meant he saw the empty bottle by the porch swing. Always the cop, always observing, and yet so clueless about what he was doing to my libido.
“I’m heading to football practice, but I can swing by a store on the way back.”
“Sure, another bottle of Chardonnay or whatever you want,” I said, spreading frosting with a shaky hand. “Say hi to Heather.”
He took a deep breath. I didn’t have to look at him to sense the slow burn in how he released it. “What makes you say that?”
“You’ll be seeing her at practice, right?”
“Probably.”
“Seems like the friendly thing to say then.”
He tilted my chin, forcing me to face him, but the intensity of his dark eyes overloaded my senses, and I stared down at the ribbed collar of his faded Police Academy T-shirt.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
Reluctantly, I dropped the spatula into the mixing bowl and gazed up at him.
“I’m not back together with Heather. I’m not seeing her other than at her son’s football practices. We’re just friends.” He waited, giving me an open invitation to search his face. “Did any of that register as the truth?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice mainly breath. He hadn’t lied. But we were just friends, too. At least that’s what I’d thought until he kissed me stupid last night.
“Good, because the kid is having a hard time since his dad walked out of his life. Heather, too. Even sought some professional advice about it.”
That explained the appointment with the psychologist. I cringed at the memory of following her, of intruding on someone’s pain. Even if it was Heather.
He gripped me by the shoulders. “So, are you done being a jackass about this?”
I pushed him away. “How am I supposed to answer that? If I say yes, I’m a jackass!”
His lips curled into a killer smile as he dipped the tip of his index finger into the frosting and held it in front of my nose. “Say yes, Chow Mein.”
I knew that look. I’d seen it last night. My breath caught in my throat. “What are you doing?”
“Trust me,” he said, lightly touching the frosting to my lips.
Feeling like I might start sizzling on the spot, I licked off the dab of buttercream. “This is crazy. We’re friends. I can’t—”
“Why?”
“Because … this … this will change everything.”
“I know.” He leaned closer, tempting me with more frosting. “About time, don’t you think?”
“Is this a trick question?”
“Say yes, dammit.”
Yes.
Closing my eyes, I sucked the buttercream from his fingertip, savoring the sensuous explosion of sweet vanilla and the slightly rough texture of his skin that made the sizzle at my core flare like a grease fire. Just when I thought my hair might burst into flames, he pressed his lips against mine, seeking, tentatively tasting, cranking my blood pressure to the boiling point.
Danger signs flashed in my head. You’re just friends. You’re not his type. You don’t have any makeup on!
Steve cupped my face and deepened the kiss, consuming me and my capacity for rational thought. Wrapping my arms around him, I relished the taste of him, a yummy blend of buttercream, coffee, and … Steve.
I heard the water turn off upstairs, and since that meant that my grandmother could walk in on us at any moment, that put a fizzle in my sizzle and I broke off the kiss. “Okay. Yes! But you’re one of my best friends.”
“There’s no reason that has to change.” He glanced down at the telltale bulge in his jeans. “Well, maybe some things might change.”
“You sound like you want dessert and you haven’t even asked me to dinner yet.”
He grinned. “Would you like to have dinner later?”
“You’re already coming here for dinner.”
“Then, how about a late night supper at my place?”
“And compare notes about the case?”
He tucked back a lock of hair that had fallen loose from my ponytail. “No shop talk during dates, Deputy.”
I sighed, but the thirteen-year-old girl inside me was giddy to hear him call this supper a date. “Dang.”
“When I stop at the store, I’ll grab an extra bottle of wine.”
I heard Gram’s footfalls on the stairs. Stepping out of Steve’s reach, I picked up the package of chocolate chips I’d set out to make a ganache glaze. “I’ll bring dessert.” Chocolate ganache fondue came to mind.
His gaze darkened. “Chow Mein, you’ll be the dessert.”
* * *
By five o’clock, my mother and I had platters of shrimp, potato salad, and bowtie pasta with artichoke hearts neatly laid out on Gram’s dining room table. Once Lucille arrived with her scalloped potato casserole, it looked like we were setting the stage for another funeral reception, so for Alice’s sake, I placed the birthday cake in the middle of the table and shoved Lucille’s casserole into the oven to keep it warm and out of sight.
Since I knew Duke would be bringing chili, I’d baked cornbread, and Steve put a case of beer into a bucket of ice.
Barry had fired up the charcoal briquettes and had a dozen seasoned beef patties and shish kabob skewers at the ready, awaiting the arrival of Duke and Alice—the only guests on Marietta’s invitation list who had yet to make an appearance.
By five-fifteen, Gram and I were exchanging nervous glances when I called Duke and Alice’s home phone number and there was no answer.
“Duke has never been late a day in his life,” Gram said, perched on the edge of a kitchen chair.
I leaned against the tile counter. “Maybe there was a problem at the cafe and they’re on the way.”
Lucille scowled at me from the dining room. “All this food is going to spoil if we don’t eat soon.”
She was just hungry. We all were.
I met Gram’s gaze. “The briquettes are ready. It’s your birthday. What do you want to do?”
With worry lining her brow she blew out a sigh. “Let’s fire up the burgers and maybe they’ll get here by the time they’re done.”
Almost an hour later, Steve kept me company in the kitchen while I ground the beans for coffee to serve with the black and white fudge cake I’d baked for Gram’s birthday.
I reached for a paper filter and felt his eyes tracking me.
“Stop it,” I said, feeling the flame of a blush crawling into my cheeks.
He folded his arms as he leaned against the counter. “Stop what?”
“Stop looking at me like it’s time for dessert.”
“Hey, if you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.”
“Speaking of getting out of the kitchen, while the coffee’s brewing, I’m going to drive over to Duke and Alice’s house to make sure they’re okay.”
Steve pulled a ring of keys out of his pocket. “I’ll drive.”
Just as we started for the door, the telephone rang. Steve answered and immediately averted his gaze.
My heart stopped. “Duke?” I whispered.
Steve nodded. “We’ll be right there.” He hung up the phone. “Alice is in the hospital.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Twelve minutes later, Gram, Steve, my mother and I stepped through the emergency entrance of Chimacam Memorial Hospital. After an ER nurse informed us that they had taken Aunt Alice up to the third floor for surgery, we headed for the elevator.
“Shit!” I knew better than to believe my great-aunt when her every action told me that something was very wrong.
Steve pressed his hand in mine as if he could hear my thoughts.
I leaned into his warmth as we waited for the elevator. “I should have brought her here days ago.”
“You and what army?” he whispered.
I could have done something. Should have done something.
When we arrived at the third floor, we made our way to the end of the hallway, where Duke was sitting alone in a row o
f five uncomfortable-looking, hard back chairs.
“Her appendix burst,” he said as Gram took the seat next to him. “Probably this morning according to the ER doc. Damn fool woman. Refused to get in the car until I told her it was time to go to your birthday party.” He shook his head, his expression grim. “Sorry to spoil the festivities.”
Gram patted his hand. “Don’t be silly. At this age birthdays aren’t nearly as fun as they used to be.”
Duke squinted down the hall at a nurse in green surgical scrubs pushing a gurney. “Still beats the alternative.”
Seconds later, he brightened at the steady stream of swear words coming from the gurney and pushed up from his seat. “I’d recognize that mouth anywhere.”
“Oh, mah,” my mother said. “I had no idea Aunt Alice had such a … unique vocabulary.”
Gram’s cheeks flushed. “Neither did I.”
Me either. I suspected some drug they gave her was doing most of the talking.
The nurse slowed to a stop in front of Duke. “Here she is. And not very happy about it either.”
“No! I know what goes on here!” Alice cried, her wrists in restraints, her short hair tucked into a light blue shower cap. “I want to go home!”
“I know, honey,” Duke said, leaning over the gurney. “But your appendix burst and they have to go in and fix you up.”
Alice’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as we gathered around her. “Please don’t let them touch me.”
“Alley cat, you’re gonna come through this just fine.” Duke squeezed her hand. “They’ll take real good care of you.” He looked back at the nurse. “Won’t you?”
“We sure will.” She patted my great-aunt’s shoulder.
Alice’s face glistened with sweat as she struggled against the restraints. “Keep away from me,” she growled. “Don’t think that I don’t know what you’ve been doing!”
The nurse rolled her eyes. “They told me she’s been making accusations like that ever since she came into the ER. They gave her something to help her relax, but it doesn’t seem to have kicked in yet.”
Probably because Alice was kicking back.
“Sorry,” Duke said apologetically.
I reached for my great-aunt’s hand and she gripped onto me like I was a lifeline.
“She’s here,” Alice said, her nails digging into my palm. “You believe me, don’t you?”
“I believe you.” I also believed that she was scared of her own shadow right now, but I couldn’t take the chance and not ask. “Who’s here?”
“You should probably say good-bye now,” the nurse said.
Not so fast. “Aunt Alice, who’s here?”
She shook her head, a tear running down her cheek. “Don’t leave me alone with her.”
Her who? This nurse? “Who—”
“For Heaven’s sake, don’t carry on so. It’s not forever.” Gram gently wiped her sister’s tear away. “We’ll be waiting for you when you get out of surgery.”
Alice stared at me with glassy eyes. “You promise you’ll be here?”
I squeezed her hand. “I promise we won’t leave you alone for a minute.”
After Duke gave Alice a kiss, we all watched as she was wheeled through a secured doorway.
The second the door shut behind her, I pulled Steve aside. “You heard that, right? She’s in the building.”
He shrugged. “Said by a woman on some good drugs.”
“But if Alice is right ….” Her big mouth could have just made her the next target. “Did you run a background check on all the doctors and nurses working at the hospital?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
He shot me a sideways glance. “And nothing.”
“Nothing turned up or there’s nothing that you’re willing to tell me?”
Wordlessly, he walked back and sat next to Gram.
Damn. I should have made our dessert plans contingent on full disclosure.
* * *
Almost three hours later, after a surgical nurse escorted Duke and Gram through a set of double doors to see Alice in recovery, my mother turned to me and heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank God she’s out of the woods.” She grabbed her tote and pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll call Barry and let him know.” She cast a quizzical look at me. “Should I also ask him to take me home?”
I turned to Steve. “I won’t be leaving anytime soon. Would you mind?”
“If you want to go outside and make that call,” he said to Marietta, “I’ll be there in a minute.”
After she disappeared into an elevator, Steve squeezed my hand. “Sorry about supper. I’d like a rain check on that dessert.”
Me too, especially since I’d been having chocolate fondue fantasies all afternoon.
“We’ll do it another time,” I quipped, trying to act casual instead of sounding like a sex-starved female.
He grinned, setting a torch to my cheeks.
Crap. “I meant that figuratively, not literally.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I know.”
“It’s cute.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a cute girl. Just ask Jimmy.”
“I don’t need to ask Jimmy. I already know that.”
I walked Steve to the elevator. I had hoped for a kiss goodbye. Instead, his lips flatlined as the doors opened.
“What?” I asked.
The crease between his brows deepened. “It’s going to be a while before they move her to a room. And you’re practically dead on your feet.”
“I’m perfectly fine.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
I leveled my gaze at him. “Really. I’m okay.”
“Uh huh. I’ll come back with a couple of coffees. Maybe even a mocha latte.”
“That’s sweet.” Really sweet. “But—”
“Caffeine will help, but there’s no way you can pull another all-nighter.”
He’d just watered down all that sugar with an icy stare, sending a chilling ripple down my spine. “Are you saying that Alice really could be in danger?”
Steve stepped into the elevator. “Not on my watch.”
* * *
Shortly after midnight, Alice settled into her room on the second floor. Since Steve and I planned to stay with her through the night, we managed to convince Duke and Gram to go home and get some sleep so that they could relieve us in the morning.
With Steve in the room, I knew Alice was safe, despite the fact that a murderer could be roaming the halls of the hospital.
He and I locked gazes for several silent seconds.
I smiled, drinking in the way his eyes gleamed like onyx in the soft light bathing the room.
“You look tired,” he said.
I felt like an emotional and physical wreck, so there was no point in denying it. “Probably because I am.”
“There’s an empty bed there,” he said, cocking his head at the unoccupied twin bed closest to the door.
My brain slammed on the brakes. “That is not going to happen. Not here, not tonight!”
“You’re right, so maybe you’d like to get a couple hours of shut-eye while I’m on watch.”
Oh.
And snore in front of him before we’d even had a first date? That wasn’t going to happen either. “I’m fine.”
He blew out a breath. “That’s what you keep saying. It would be more believable if you actually got some sleep now and then.”
I’d sleep when this was all over. Tonight, I just wanted to keep my promise and see Alice safely through the next few hours.
“I’m okay. I had a double mocha latte, so I’m good to go.”
“Sure you are,” he said, folding his arms over his chest.
I stood and pressed my fingertips to the growing ache in the small of my back, thanks to all the long nights I’d spent thrashing around in the Crippler. “Really, I’m good. I just need to get up and move. Work out the kinks.” And the nervous knots he and Alic
e had tied me into the last two days.
He pushed out of his chair. “I could help with those kinks.”
I froze, hesitant to ask what he had in mind, but exhilarated down to my toenails when he pulled me close.
“Wrap your arms around my neck,” he said.
His warmth felt too good to offer up any resistance. Locking my hands at the base of his neck, I nestled closer, flattening my breasts against his ribcage.
He pulled up my cotton shirt and ran his palms up and down my back.
“Trying to cop a feel?” I asked.
“Not yet, but the night’s young.”
I tried to not moan as he worked his magic fingers into the knot at the small of my back. “Oh, yes …. There. That’s … wonderful.”
“What the hell are you two doing?” the raspy voice behind me demanded.
I turned and saw Aunt Alice squinting back at me from her hospital bed.
“We’re not doing anything.” I pulled away from Steve as if she’d just caught us making out in the back of Duke’s delivery van. “Steve’s here, keeping me company.”
She aimed a parental scowl at him. “Looked to me like he was copping a feel.”
“Well, he wasn’t.” But he may have worked his way up to it if she hadn’t woken up.
She squinted at the wall clock. “What time is it?”
“One-twenty-five,” Steve said. “Do you need anything?”
Alice reached out to me. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
I gave her hand a squeeze. “We’re both going to be here all night.”
Her eyelids fluttered shut. “You’re a good girl. Just don’t be such a noisy one.” She opened an eye. “And Stevie.”
He stepped to the foot of her bed. “Ma’am?”
She stabbed the air with a bony index finger. “Watch where you put your hands because I could wake up at any minute.”
Criminy. Who was watching who?
* * *
A few minutes before two, Steve’s cell phone rang. He stepped into Alice’s bathroom to take the call. Seconds later, I heard a loud expletive, then the door swung open and we locked gazes.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Shadows played in the contours of his face, accentuating his cheekbones. “Another stabbing outside of that nightclub.”
Wendy Delaney - Working Stiffs 01 - Trudy, Madly, Deeply Page 23