Kyle (Hope City Book 4)

by Maryann Jordan

  “Okay… ”

  “Since you’re a detective, you’ve probably heard that Kilton Pharma got a lot of bad press several months ago when one of the sales reps was caught stealing and part of some kind of drug ring. There was gossip galore at work, but other than what I heard on the news, I don’t know what happened.”

  Maintaining his interested-albeit-poker face, Kyle nodded for her to continue while hiding the gut clench that always happened when he thought of Tara being caught in that nightmare.

  “Anyway, because of my journalism background, I was asked by the head of marketing to do a series of interviews that could be put in promotional material. You know, the innovative research going on. The life-saving drugs. Helping the community. The people behind the company. All of that. So, what I’ve been doing for the past week is talking to a bunch of people at work.”

  Smiling his encouragement, he still hid his inner thoughts. Holy shit, she’s got an inside viewpoint, but there’s no way I can fuckin’ use her. But maybe…

  She shifted on the sofa again, this time waving her hands with more excitement. “As I started meeting some of the employees and listening to their interesting stories, I thought about showcasing some in an article series called Faces of Hope City. I pitched the idea to my editor, and he loved it. Of course, for anyone at Kilton, I’d have to get their permission separately from what I’m doing at work.”

  So far, everything she’d told him made sense—her job and freelance, her interest in journalism and people. But what the fuck was she doing at the Cardboard Cottages? Her eyes were bright once again and her cheeks rosy. Part of him wanted to keep her just like this. Hell, part of him wanted to take her upstairs and claim her once more, only this time not let her walk away. But as much as he hated to take away her joy, he had no choice. I’ve got to know what the fuck she was doing.

  12

  “Do you want something to drink? Beer, soda, iced tea?”

  “Wouldn’t mind a beer, but I’m still on duty. My partner is probably wondering what the hell is keeping me.”

  She sucked in her lips and her chin dropped, her focus on her hands now clasped in her lap. Caitlyn’s brother. I can’t believe I slept with Caitlyn’s brother. Waiting to see if mortification would hit, she gave a rueful snort. Caitlyn would probably offer a high-five and ‘hell yeah’. Pushing that thought from her mind, she lifted her gaze and asked, “You’re going to ask me about this morning, aren’t you?”

  Glad she brought it up, he nodded. “Yeah, Kimberly. I need to know how you got from interviewing some Kilton employees to placing yourself in danger by wandering around the homeless community under the bridge by yourself with nothing but a fuckin’ can of pepper spray and didn’t have the good sense to not spray it when the wind was blowing.”

  Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. “Wow, you can really go from sweet to a jerk, can’t you?”

  “Pointing out a mistake that you made is not me being a jerk.”

  Her mouth clamped into a tight line, and he inwardly cursed. Sighing heavily, he said, “Let me start again. Kimberly, I’m a detective. You know that. It’s my job to be aware of the dangerous places in Hope City, and you were in a bad situation. It’s also my job to investigate crimes, and if something had happened to you, and I was right there and had to investigate, it would totally gut me. On top of that, I think we’re establishing that I’d like to see where you and I go in this relationship.” Her gaze jumped back to his face, and he nodded. “So, yeah, I’m going to be interested. And I need some answers.”

  She tilted her head to the side, nibbling her bottom lip. “You want to see where we go in this relationship?”

  “You told me earlier that you’ve been thinking about me for a week. Well, here’s a heads up. I have too. I woke up that morning after the best night of my life and couldn’t believe that you were gone. I didn’t know your last name, phone number, or where you worked.”

  A rosy blush moved across her cheeks and she shrugged. “I’m not used to doing what we did. I don’t go to hotels with strange men and, to be honest, I had no idea what the protocol was.” Air quotes accompanied the word protocol.

  He dropped his chin and shook his head. “Fuck, even finger quotes from you are cute.” Holding her gaze again, he prompted, “Protocol?”

  Her blush deepened and she huffed. “Yeah. Like what’s expected when you wake up with someone. Have breakfast? Take a shower? Or is one person supposed to get the hell out of the room so that the other person doesn’t have to deal with them? Honestly, Kyle, I had no idea. But I figured I was one night of fun for you, and I left because I thought that would be easier on both of us.”

  Her honesty was refreshing, something he rarely got when he met a woman in a bar. Not that that had happened recently. He reached over and smoothed his fingers through her almost-dry hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “That’s nice to hear. Just so you know, my younger days of picking up women in bars are long gone. I was sorry that you weren’t around the next morning. So, getting back to my original statement, yeah, I’m interested.”

  She nodded slowly, holding his gaze. After a moment, she said, “This morning.”

  “Yeah, babe. I want you to tell me about this morning.”

  Her nose scrunched, and she huffed. “Well, it started with Father James and the blankets and then came the call and email from my editor with an article that mentioned the Cardboard Cottages, and I know Kilton had a delivery van full of opioids robbed.”

  His chest deflated as the air fled his lungs, her words shocking him. What the ever-loving fuck?

  Kimberly stared at Kyle’s open-mouth gasp, appearing as though he had been socked in the gut. “Um… are you okay?”

  Blinking as though coming out of a foggy sleep, he growled, “No, I’m not okay. Father James? Blankets? Email? Robbery? Jesus, Kimberly, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “Me? Don’t start being a jerk again.”

  He twisted so that he was facing out in the room, his elbows pressed into his knees as his hands held his face. Even when angry, Kyle held a calmness about him, but now it was gone. Electricity seemed to snap about the room, but she couldn’t define what he was experiencing. Uncertain what to say, she remained quiet.

  He finally sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Lifting his head away from his palms, he twisted and speared her with his gaze. “Maybe you better start at the beginning.”

  She nodded, uncertain where the beginning actually was. “To be honest, the bigwigs I was interviewing were pretty boring, and I just got their canned speeches of how wonderful their departments are. Then I interviewed Sidney Kilton, who is the supervisor for HR. She told me I should get away from the supervisors and talk to some of the people who do the real work in the company.”

  She hesitated, waiting to see how Kyle was taking her story so far. He appeared calm, offered a small nod, so she continued.

  “Well, my landlord works there, and he introduced me to a lot of warehouse workers. I had lunch in their workroom, and it was really interesting. Some of them have been there for a long time and had stories about the way things used to be. Some of them came from other companies or warehouses and had thoughts on how Kilton works as opposed to other places.”

  Her gaze left his as she glanced out into the room, collecting her thoughts. “I know it might not sound like much, but I was interested in meeting these people and talking to them. All I could think of was what I wanted to do. Showcase the average worker doing their job.” Remembering Tammy, she barked out a laugh. “I also got to meet a lady that’s been working there since the company opened, and she was a hoot. I learned all about how the delivery routes were designed and she told me about the robbery.”

  A flash of something undefinable flew through Kyle’s eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He didn’t say anything, so she continued. “I guess that’s where I got the idea that it might be cool to not only do human-interest stories for Kilton marke
ting but for the readership at Hope City Happenings as well.”

  He nodded slowly, his gaze still pinned on her. “Okay, I get that. So, tell me who Father James is and what the blankets have to do with the call from your editor.”

  “No, no. The blankets don’t have anything to do with my editor. The blankets have to do with Father James.”

  Once again, she was sure she could hear him slowly counting under his breath. “Kyle, I don’t think you’re paying attention.”

  “At the risk of being called a jerk again, Kimberly, I’m going to have to say that you’re not making a lot of sense.”

  She sighed heavily and began again. “When I was younger, I used to help our parish priest collect bags of things that he would give to those less fortunate. I stopped by the other day and met with him and found out that he still has a group that does that, and they deliver blankets and food to some of the people at Cardboard Cottages. I also received a call from my editor who encouraged me to add more people to my Faces of Hope City. He sent articles about illegal opioid use and homelessness, and I started thinking that the Cottages might give me some people to talk to. You know… the real faces, not just those at Kilton but from all walks of life.”

  “The real faces…?” Kyle leaned back and twisted his body so that he was now facing her directly. His brow furrowed and, if possible, the intensity of his gaze sharpened. “You’re not an investigative reporter—”

  Nodding emphatically, she agreed. “I know, but it seemed interesting.”

  “Interesting?”

  “The article link he sent described the opioid crisis and how a drug called fentanyl is added to other drugs making it a lot more potent and addictive—”

  “Jesus, Kimberly. And that’s how you wound up at the Cardboard Cottages this morning? Alone, unprotected, vulnerable.”

  She pinched her lips together once again, knowing no matter what she said he was not going to be happy with her decisions.

  “Just like with getting your street name, babe, I’ll sit here till you decide to tell me, so you might as well go ahead and get it over with.”

  “Jerk,” she mumbled under her breath.

  “Heard that before, still ignoring it. You can think what you want about me, but I want to know how you ended up there this morning.”

  She lifted her hand and rubbed her forehead, trying to ease the dull ache that had settled behind her eyes. “The article also mentioned how stolen fentanyl was a multi-million-dollar industry, and the woman I talked to at Kilton had mentioned that there was a delivery van that had been robbed last week. It got me thinking that this was another time where Kilton Pharmaceuticals was involved with stolen drugs. The article mentioned the homeless population is particularly susceptible to drug addiction. Cardboard Cottages was listed as one of the problem areas.”

  Having explained her actions, she sat quietly, wondering what he was thinking.

  Continuing to hold her gaze, he urged, “Okay, go on.”

  She blinked in surprise. “Um… that’s all.”

  “That’s not all.”

  “Yeah, it is. You wanted to know why I was there, and I told you.”

  “What were you doing? What were you hoping to find out? Why did you go by yourself? Why did you only have a canister of pepper spray—”

  Throwing her hands up in front of her, she said, “Okay, okay! I get it! I’d never been to any place that has drugs, although I’ve seen pictures of the Cardboard Cottages. And no, I didn’t go waltzing in like Little Red Riding Hood without a care in the world. Believe me, I thought long and hard before going.”

  “So, what was your plan when you got there?”

  “I met the group from the church and only the men were allowed to give out the food and blankets. I didn’t get a chance to talk to anyone. I decided to drive to the other side and see if I could find some women to talk to. I was only getting out of my car if I saw someone I thought I might be able to approach safely. Once I got there, I quickly ascertained that the area deeper underneath the overpasses was not where I wanted to go. But I saw some kids playing on the outer perimeter and a few women standing near a fire keeping an eye on them. I thought it would be safe to talk to them.”

  He stood quickly and walked across the room, hands planted on his hips while he studied his boots. Suddenly turning, he asked, “What did you want to talk to them about?”

  “At first, I just thought I’d see if anyone could tell me about drugs in the area. I thought I was safe since their kids were right there.”

  “Jesus, Kimberly. If those women had been strung out on something, they would have slit your throat right in front of their kids and not thought anything about it!”

  Stomach clenching at the thought, she stiffened her spine and glared back. “Well, they didn’t, did they?”

  He scrubbed his hand over his face, and she could have sworn she heard him counting under his breath again. Deciding discretion was in her favor, she remained quiet.

  Finally speaking, he said, “Okay, you decided to talk to them. What did you learn?”

  Jumping to her feet, she began pacing. “This is where my plan completely changed, Kyle. I offered them fruit gummies for their kids, and they accepted, even making sure their kids said thank you. Then we just talked for a little bit. I didn’t ask about the drugs, not at first. I let them tell me about their situations. I realized how naïve I was to not know why some people live there. Their stories broke my heart.”

  She rubbed her forehead again, ready for the conversation to end. When she opened her eyes, he had moved silently and was now standing directly in front of her. She battled the desire to lean into his strength. Sighing, she continued, “Yes, toward the end I asked about fentanyl. One of the ladies knew nothing about it, saying she stayed away from drugs. Another one said her ex-husband used to use it. But they admitted they lived in the tents on the outskirts so that they were safer and weren’t involved in anything illegal. I believe them. They were clean, clear-eyed, completely sober.”

  He closed the scant distance between them and wrapped his arms around her once again, pulling her close. With her cheek resting against his chest, she said, “I just wanted to talk to them. And, after I did, I realized I cared more about their plight than I did trying to figure out anything to do with drugs. I was walking away, back to my car, when you saw me. That’s it, Kyle. That’s all there is.”

  13

  If Kyle thought the myriad of emotions ran the gamut when he discovered the woman at Cardboard Cottages was Kimberly, it was nothing compared to what he was feeling now with her back in his arms. The detective in him wanted to know what she was finding out at her workplace while the protector in him wanted to rail against her foolish decision to walk unprotected into the lion’s den. And the man who was interested in her found her a fascinating woman, one with many layers that he wanted to discover. But, for the moment, he settled on just holding her in his embrace, grateful he had found her again.

  She tilted her head back and whispered, “What now?”

  Staring into her beautiful green eyes and the feel of her body flush against his, he smiled. “Now, this.” Bending, he took her lips in a kiss that started gentle and slow but soon filled with all the emotion and desire that had snapped around like electricity.

  He battled to keep the kiss light, but she lifted on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Closer was a relative word because, with his cock pressed against her stomach and her breasts pressed against his chest, he couldn't imagine less space between them. All thoughts left his mind as his entire being focused on the moans coming from deep inside, uncertain if they were hers or his.

  Drinking each other in, they kissed in an almost desperate attempt to become one. He’d discovered the first night they met that he enjoyed kissing her, which had been a surprise. It was nothing like anything he’d ever experienced. Far beyond the innocent fumblings of youth. Far beyond the seductive precursor to casual sex. Far beyond
anything he’d felt in a previous relationship.

  This kiss was pulling at his soul as much as his body.

  He bent and, with one hand under her knees, scooped her into his arms and stalked back to the sofa. He maneuvered them both onto the cushions, miraculously never losing her mouth. He ran his hand down her torso, and her breasts were full against his palm and the heat from her core burned against his thigh as he nudged her legs apart.

  His body cried out for him to strip off their clothing and plunge himself into her warmth. But, instead, he lifted his head away from hers, gasping in a ragged breath.

  “Why did you stop?” she moaned as her fingers clutched his neck, pulling him back down.

  Swallowing deeply, doubting his sanity at that moment, he replied, “Because we need to stop.”

  Her body stiffened as her eyes widened. “What? Why?”

  “Because I want this.”

  “I think you’ve muddled my mind with kisses because that doesn’t make sense.”

  A smile slipped across his face, and he leaned down to kiss her lightly again. “It’s true that I want your body. I want more mind-blowing, forget-the-world, nothing-exists-except-you-and-me kind of sex.”

  “Yes!” she groaned, pressing her hips upward against his aching cock.

  “But I’m going to say no.”

  Now it was her turn to suck in a ragged breath and it was warm against his face when she blew it out in a huff.

  “I want you, Kimberly. I want whatever’s happening between us. What I don’t want is to fuck it up.”