by Jessica Ames
“What am I thinking?”
“That he hit me, abused me.”
“Well, did he?”
She squirms in her seat. “No, Chris. Milo isn’t violent. He’s just a shit.”
I snort. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you curse.”
“He brings that out in me. I don’t like to talk badly about people, but he was—and still remains—an ass.”
That we both agree on.
After dinner, I ask her to walk with me along the beach. She agrees and we stroll along the water’s edge, the city lights illuminating our path. Barefooted, she dips her toes in the water and gasps each time the cold water touches her.
I’m clutching her hand like a lifeline, but trying not to hold her too hard or desperately.
It’s not easy.
Everything in me wants her. I want to take her now, but I don’t think she’d be receptive to jumping in feet first, and I don’t want to do anything that might upset her.
But I want—no, I need—to taste her. So, I stop walking, and she stumbles a little. I pull her toward me and peer down at her. Her eyes are wide as she takes me in, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
I tip her chin up and take a second to work out if she’s receptive. She seems to be, so I dip my head and meet her mouth.
She tastes like heaven. There’s the tang of the meal she just ate, mixed with her unique taste. I slowly brush my lips over hers, pulling her against me as my fingers tangle in her hair.
I feel her melt into me as I deepen the kiss, tasting, consuming, and eventually devouring her. I want her more than ever. I need her, in fact. I feel all my darkness seep out as soon as her arms tighten around my waist and her mouth moves against mine. It’s like I’ve entered nirvana. My body feels lighter. I feel lighter.
When I pull back, I’m breathless and so is she. She looks a little drunk on me, and I have to steady her.
“Okay?” I ask her.
She nods. “More than okay. Can we do it again?”
I grin and kiss her.
17
April
“So, you got in late the other night,” Bekah says, clutching her mug of coffee in her hands. “I’m guessing your date with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome went well.”
“You’d guess right,” I tell her, practically beaming.
After Chris kissed the heck out of me, we walked for a little while longer, then he took me home. I invited him in, but he told me if he came in things between us would go further and he wanted to “do things properly.” I don’t know why, but that made me happy to hear. It told me his intentions with us, and they seem to be good ones. He’s not looking for a quick fling—at least, I don’t think his actions suggest this.
“I’m glad you had a good time, honey, but until we figure this stuff out with the keys, maybe you should be a little more cautious.”
I frown at her. “Chris didn’t do this—whatever this is.” I know this in my heart and gut, but even if I didn’t, Bekah did extensive background checks on the people in my life, and if she’s half the cop I suspect she is then she left no stone unturned. “You cleared him.”
“I did, but it’s not a question of me trusting his motives. I worry about you being out there unprotected. I don’t know this Chris well enough to know if he’ll take care of my girl if things go sideways.”
My heart fills with warmth. Bekah is the sister I never had. I love her and I know she loves me. After the divorce, I was floundering and Bekah told me to move in with her. At first, I was reluctant. I didn’t want to get in her way, but it’s been good for me staying here. She gave me back my confidence and helped me to find my happy again.
But because she was with me during the worst period of my life, and she dealt with the aftermath of Milo’s infidelity, she’s a little overprotective at times. I understand it, but it can get annoying. I don’t need a second mother. I know she means well, but I’m a thirty-two-year-old woman, not a child.
So, Bekah wasn’t thrilled about me going out with anyone, considering the current circumstances, and made that clear. I’m grateful to her, but I was going on that date no matter what she said. I’ve loved Chris from afar for years. There was no chance in hell I was turning down the opportunity to spend time with him.
I’m starting to suspect what happened was all in my head anyway. Nothing has happened since.
“It was fine, and Chris will take care of me if anything happens.”
“I want to trust that will be the case, but I don’t.”
“Chris is former military, so you don’t have to worry.” I roll my eyes at her. “And I don’t need protecting anyway.”
“Honey, someone came into the house while you were asleep. Do you understand why I’m freaking out about this?”
“Of course. I’m not stupid, but I’m not going to hide away from the world either. It was probably nothing. I’ve been tired and stressed with work. Maybe I replaced the keys.”
She gives me a skeptical look. “April, you didn’t steal and hide your own keys and then put them back.”
I didn’t, which leaves the question of who did, and why. To that I have no answer, and neither do the police. We live in a small residential area, meaning there are no cameras nearby, and so finding any evidence is proving impossible.
“I know, but I’m not going to sit here and worry about it either.” My words are braver than I feel, because if I’m being honest, I’d admit I am freaked out.
Bekah eyes me, as if trying to discern the truth in my words, then she sighs. “Okay, so now you need to tell me everything about your date.”
My lips pull into a smile. “He was the perfect gentleman. We had an amazing evening.”
“You’re seeing him again?”
I nod. “Today, in fact.”
Her brows crawl up her forehead. “It went better than ‘well’ then.”
“He’s everything I imagined and more.”
“Keep your wits while you’re out.”
“I will. He’s just as paranoid as you are anyway, so he’s picking me up from the house.”
This seems to appease Bekah. “I like him already.”
I get showered and dressed, putting on minimal makeup and sweeping my hair into a low ponytail. He’ll be on his bike, no doubt, so I make sure I’m bike-ready while trying to look date-appropriate. I manage this with my skinny jeans, which hug my curves in the right places and my knee-high boots.
Bekah leaves for work before Chris rings the doorbell. I grab my purse and jacket and head for the front door.
When I push it open, his head comes up and his eyes soften—whatever demons reside there vanishing. He started to open up last night about his past, but every time I thought we were getting somewhere, he’d shut it back down. In the end, I let it go. I’m sure he’ll open up when he feels ready. I suspect his trauma stems from his time in the Army, so I’m not keen to probe, unless he’s ready to give up the information.
“Hey,” he says to me, and I forget everything but the man standing in front of me.
He’s so handsome with all that scruff on his face and his fitted leather jacket, jeans, and motorcycle boots. I want to go to him and take his mouth, but I’m not sure if that’s the done thing on a second date, so I hesitate and wave a little awkwardly at him.
He holds his hand out to me, and I take it. Then I’m pulled into his arms and my mouth’s captured. His kiss is soft, gentle and has my knees trembling.
When he’s had his fill of me, he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine. “What are you doing to me?” he murmurs.
I think it’s a rhetorical question, but I answer anyway. “What am I doing to you?”
“Breaking down all my walls,” is his strange, but candid response.
“Chris…”
His eyes close, and I lose his blue irises. “I shouldn’t be doing this with you.”
He doesn’t explain further, and I don’t push him for answers, although I know I should.
I have the feeling if I do, this thing between us will come to an end, and I’m not ready to give him up yet.
18
Chris
I have no idea what I’m doing with April, but being with her feels right. I don’t want to give her up, and I’m getting pretty good at ignoring my guilt. What I feel for her is stronger. I can’t deny my feelings any longer. I’m tired of punishing myself, and I hate myself for thinking that. Luke is where he is because of me. It’s my fault. I gave that order. I put him in the path of that explosion. Whatever I do to myself will be nothing compared to what I took from him.
I tamp that down and focus on the woman clinging to my waist as the bike roars along the street. She fits behind me perfectly, as if she was meant to sit there all along. Will she stay there once she knows my truth? Will she want to know me?
I ride for hours, April at my back. When I finally pull the bike to a stop, I’m feeling a little sore, so God knows how she must be feeling.
Glancing over my shoulder, I let her know it’s okay to get off, which she does. I don’t miss the little wobble she does as her feet hit the asphalt, and guilt rolls through me.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I rode too far and too long.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t apologize. I loved every moment of it.”
Her cheeks are flushed from the wind and her hair is a little messy from the helmet, but the smile on her face is genuine. It makes me relax a little.
I kick the stand down and climb off, pulling my helmet off in the process.
“I shouldn’t have gone so far with you. You’re still new to riding. It takes time to build up to longer journeys.”
She reaches up and strokes my cheek. “It was perfect.”
Dipping my head, I press my mouth to hers. I can’t help myself. Her plump, kissable lips are begging to be taken, and I oblige.
Kissing April is fast becoming my favorite pastime. In fact, April herself is fast becoming my sole focus. I have no idea how I stayed away for so long.
You were an idiot, is how…
I ignore the voice in the back of my head, even though it’s right. I was an idiot. I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for April. It wars with my guilt, my sins of the past nipping at my heels constantly.
I push that aside and focus my attention on her. She’s beautiful, with that soft brown hair and dark eyes that I want to get lost in. She’s everything I want, yet everything I shouldn’t have.
But walking away now that I’ve tasted her isn’t an option.
I can’t leave April behind even if I want to.
I plaster a smile on my face. “Come on, let’s get some lunch before we head back.”
We head to a place that does seafood. The meal is divine and I insist on paying, even though she offers to pay for her own. It’s probably a little old fashioned of me, but I can’t bring myself to let her pay. This might be the twenty-first century, and I understand women are equal partners, but I was raised to take care of the women in my life, and if April is in my life she’ll have to get used to that.
We talk about nothing and everything as we eat. The ease with which we converse makes me feel as if we’ve been together for years rather than a matter of days. Then again, I’ve known April for a long time, so she’s hardly a stranger to me—even though I feel like there is a lot I still need to learn about her. She probably feels like I’m a closed book, because I am. Eventually, I’ll need to come clean about these things, otherwise we’ll never be able to move forward, but for now, I’m content to see where things go and how they progress before I push myself to open up.
After eating, we get back on my bike, and I begin the long ride back to her house. The wind is warm, but she still snuggles into my back. I’m starting to enjoy having her behind me far too much and by the time we reach her place, my cock is practically alive with the need to have her.
Hoping she doesn’t notice, I climb off the bike when she’s off the back and take her hand in mine as I walk her to her front door.
It’s crazy, but I want to make sure she gets in safely—even though I can see her door from the curb.
We’re chatting, so at first, I don’t notice the fact the door is ajar. Then my military training kicks in. I might have been out of the forces for a long-assed time, but that instinct for danger never goes away. I pull April behind me as I stop walking.
“What’s wrong?” she demands from my back.
“The door… it’s open.”
And I know for a fact she locked it behind her. I watched her do it.
“What?” She tries to peer around me, her voice holding a hint of panic, and starts to move toward it, but I stop her, grabbing her wrist.
“Let me check it out first.”
She glances up at me, and I see the fear in her face. “Chris, no. Let’s just call the police.”
I stare at the door before returning my gaze to her. I could check it out easily, but if someone is in there, armed, I’m at a disadvantage. Besides, she looks two steps from a full-blown meltdown and I don’t want to leave her out here, afraid and alone.
I give her a nudge to get her moving and together we head back to the bike. I then dial the police and ask for an officer to come out.
19
April
The police seem to take an age to get to us. In reality, it’s only a few minutes, but it feels like a lifetime. Chris holds me tucked against his side as we wait, watching the front door as if expecting something to happen. Nothing does, and by the time the blue lights appear I’m barely keeping myself together. If Chris wasn’t here with me, I’m not sure I would be.
Chris untangles himself from my grip and takes my hand, so we can walk over and meet the police. He doesn’t let me go the whole time he explains the situation to the officers. Then we wait while the two men head inside the house.
The seconds tick by and I’ve practically chewed my thumbnail down to a stump by the time they reappear.
“The house is clear and it doesn’t look like a break in. Are you sure you didn’t leave the door open?”
“She didn’t,” Chris tells him. “I watched her lock up before we left. She definitely secured the property.”
“Is it possible anyone has a key to the house?” the second officer asks.
“No, we had the locks changed after a break in a couple of weeks ago,” I say, my voice barely audible. I feel shaky. How could someone get in without breaking in?
The officers exchange glances. “This is the second break in?”
I nod. “Yeah, I lost my keys. Someone used them to come into the house and leave them on the table, but how would someone get in now? The locks—”
“It’s not that hard to pick a lock,” the officer says. “In fact, only minimal skill is needed to get through most locks.”
“Well, that’s terrifying,” I mutter.
Chris squeezes my hand, offering his reassurance. “Is there anything we can do?”
“This is Detective Barber’s house, right?”
“Yeah.”
He rubs his neck and says, “Come to the station in the morning and make a statement. We’ll do a couple of drive-bys for the rest of our shift, see if we see anything suspect, but there’s no indication a crime has been committed, which means our hands are tied.”
This is what I expect, so I give him a tired smile.
“Thank you.”
Chris isn’t content to let it lie though. “That’s it? That’s all you can do? She’s been targeted twice—three times if you count the flowers. Clearly, there’s a pattern here.”
“I’m sorry, Sir, but there’s really not anything more we can do until a crime is committed.”
“So, she has to be in danger for you to do something?” he sounds put out by this notion. I don’t blame him. It’s lunacy at its finest, even if I do understand it.
“I know,” one of the officers says. “It’s frustrating for us as well, believe me, but we have to follow the rules.”
; Chris makes a growling sound in the back of his throat and this time, I squeeze his hand. He lets go of his anger a little, letting it slide back into its cage.
The officers finish up and take off, leaving me and Chris alone again. I glance around the house, my heart sitting in my throat. Nothing looks disturbed, which makes it even more eerie.
“Has anything been taken?” Chris asks.
“I don’t think so.” I wrap my arms around my middle and glance around, trying to see if anything is missing. “I probably didn’t lock the door properly.”
Chris’s head snaps up. “I watched you do it. Don’t doubt yourself.”
I’m doubting everything right now, but I don’t tell him that. I’m not sure he’d take it too well, my self-flagellation.
“I know, but what other explanation is there?”
It’s a rhetorical question. I don’t really want to know the answer. He gives me one all the same.
“You’re being targeted. The flowers, the missing and returned keys, now, the door being open. These things are not coincidences, April. One thing, maybe, but the multiple events suggest something more sinister.”
I frown at him. “That sounds a little paranoid.”
“It’s not paranoia if someone is out to get you.”
A shiver runs down my spine, and he must see it because he comes to me, rubbing up my arms.
“I know it’s scary, sweetheart, but you need to keep a level head while we figure this stuff out.”
“I’m okay,” I assure him. I glance up at him. “Do you really think someone is targeting me?”
“It seems that way. It’s irritating that the police can’t do shit about it either until a crime occurs. Surely, that’s the worst-case scenario.”
“I don’t think it’s the best outcome either, but what can we do about it? Even Bekah doesn’t have the sway to push them to investigate without any evidence of a crime having taken place.”