by Jami Alden
Even if all indications showed she didn’t have any interest in that life including him. “There’s more to it than the gifts. A cop came to see us the other night.” His gaze darted around the kitchen. The catering staff was bustling around, loading trays up with food and exchanging broken martini glasses—from the swan fiasco, no doubt—for undamaged ones. “Let’s go someplace a little more quiet.”
Danny nodded and led Jack into the living room. Through the sliding glass doors on one wall, they could look out and see the party in action, but no one would hear their conversation. “The cops find something? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wasn’t specifically about Talia’s case, and they told us this in confidence, so you have to keep it to yourself.”
Danny nodded. “No problem.”
“Seriously, you can’t even tell Caroline, or Derek and Ethan. If any of this leaks out, it could fuck up their investigation.”
“I’m a vault. Now spill it.”
“Have you heard about the rapes that have happened in the last few months?”
Danny grimaced. “You mean the dude who kidnaps the women and keeps them for a while before dumping them? Yeah, and that’s the reason none of the wives go anywhere alone after five p.m. until they catch the fucker.”
“He doesn’t just kidnap and rape them. He cuts them too.” He closed his eyes and fought back a shudder at the memory of the pictures Nolan had showed him. And hot on its heels, the memory of Talia, helpless, her blood covering her and him as he desperately tried to stop the flow. “He slices up their backs, not enough to kill them but enough to scar them up pretty bad. At first they didn’t notice the pattern, but when they took the DVD from Talia, they realized it’s a perfect match. Whoever is doing those girls, he’s using Talia’s wounds as his blueprint.”
Danny grimaced and went to the full bar tucked in the corner of the living room. Without a word, he poured two fingers of scotch and took a long drink. “You sure you don’t want some of this? To take the edge off?” he asked as he topped off his glass.
Jack shook his head.
“Do they think the rapist is the one targeting Talia?”
Jack shrugged. “They know about as much as we do, which isn’t much, but we’d be stupid not to assume it. Though kidnap and rape is a little out of bounds for a thug for hire.”
Danny waved him off. “Not necessarily. A lot of these guys get into it because they get off on hurting people. He wouldn’t be the first to do some things on the side for the pure pleasure of it.”
Jack swallowed back a wave of nausea and took a seat on the edge of the wood-framed sofa. “The pictures of the women… We’ve been to some bad places, Danny, and seen some bad shit.”
“The worst.”
“And I still can’t wrap my head around the idea of someone actually getting off on doing that kind of thing to someone who can’t even fight back.”
Danny’s big paw settled heavily on his shoulder. “And God knows Anna drives me batshit on a daily basis, but I can’t imagine how a father could point a gun at his own kid and pull the trigger. But we knew one of those too.” He gave Jack’s shoulder a squeeze. “There are a lot of fucked-up people on the planet. I just don’t want to see you taken down.”
Jack didn’t either, but he’d let himself get taken down before he let some psycho get near Talia. “But do you get it now, why I have to see this through?”
Danny lowered himself into the armchair across from Jack. “And after that? What happens then?”
Jack didn’t really want to think too far ahead. Didn’t want to think about the fact that once they caught the sick fuck who was tormenting Talia, he’d have no excuse to live in her back pocket.
He could continue checking up on her without her knowing, but ever since she’d pointed out how his unsolicited upgrade of her security system bore similarities to the cameras David Maxwell had used to monitor every move she made in Club One, his under-the-radar surveillance of her—no matter that it was well intended—had left a bad taste in his mouth.
There was a lot he wanted from Talia, but he wasn’t going to take anything she wasn’t willing to share.
Talia sat with Toni and Caroline and Alyssa at one of the dining tables set up on the lawn. Toni, who was feeding little baby Joey under a wrap, had sent Ethan to get her a plate while Derek did the same for Alyssa.
Talia half listened as they expounded over little Joey’s seemingly endless appetite.
“I swear to God I thought my nipples were going to fall off in the first two weeks,” Toni said matter-of-factly.
Caroline had her hands full keeping little Anna in line. Talia offered to keep an eye on her so she could get dinner but Caroline demurred. “Being this pregnant is like having lap band surgery. I ate, like, two shrimp and a couple of those cheese puff things and I feel like I ate half a cow. I’ll let everything settle while I wait for Danny.”
Talia was too anxious to eat, her brain buzzing with curiosity after the snippet of conversation she’d overheard between Jack and Danny in the kitchen. She’d ended up there after getting turned around on her way back outside to join the party.
She’d been about to make her presence known when she heard Danny say something about getting Jack back to work in Seattle.
She listened quietly to hear Jack’s reply, her stomach sinking when he didn’t make any protest about heading back up north once her tormentor was caught.
Which was completely expected. So why did she feel so disappointed about the idea of Jack leaving, especially when she’d done absolutely nothing—other than attract the attention of another psychopath—to encourage him to stay?
Then Danny said something about her and Jack “bumping uglies.”
Disgusted and embarrassed, she took that as her cue to leave when Jack slammed Danny up against the refrigerator. Unsure of whether to interfere, she’d ducked behind the pantry door and waited to see what happened.
The intense, cryptic conversation that followed raised about a thousand new questions about Jack.
She looked past Toni’s shoulder but didn’t see any sign of him.
“Sorry, Talia,” Caroline said, reaching out to snag Anna before she made a beeline for the cake table. “I know we’re probably totally boring you with all of the baby talk.”
“I’m not bored. Just looking for Jack. And if I ever have a baby, I know who to come to with my questions.”
Caroline grinned. “Weddings, pregnancy, and babies. Three things guaranteed to cause diarrhea of the mouth in any woman who’s experienced them.”
Talia’s answering smile faltered a little as she felt a little pinch somewhere in the region of her heart. Once upon a time, she’d dreamed about all of those things. Her parents’ horrible relationship—with her father’s drinking, screaming, and the occasional knocking around before he finally left for good—didn’t sour her on the idea of falling in love and getting married someday.
And then when Talia was eight, Rosie had come along, a souvenir, Talia was reasonably sure, from the affair Talia’s mother had had with the neighbor’s husband. Mama had called her a mistake, but from the very beginning, Rosie, with her pink mouth that was too full for her face, giant doe eyes, and cheeks made for kissing, had become the center of Talia’s world.
When she grew up, she told herself, she’d have a baby just like Rosie, but she’d do it right. She’d be different from her mother, she knew. Smarter. She’d pick a good man, someone worthy of her love and devotion. Someone who would adore her and their kids and provide a good life for them instead of drinking away most of his paycheck. Someone who didn’t screw around on his wife and deny that the growing bump under his mistress’s shirt was his responsibility.
After a couple of false starts with guys from the neighborhood who turned out to be losers, Talia resolved to stay single as long as it took to meet someone good. Then Mama died, and it became even more important for Talia to find someone who could help support them and be a good pa
rental figure when she got custody of Rosie, who had been stuck in a foster home.
Then she’d met David Maxwell and thought all her dreams had come true. He’d gotten Rosie back for her, but at what cost? Her involvement with David had not only nearly gotten her killed, but it had also crushed whatever was left of her dreams of a happy future. Husband, babies. Love.
It had been so long since she’d even entertained the possibility of it, she’d decided that path was closed to her. But here, today, surrounded by so much marital joy and pregnant women everywhere she looked, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have everything that they had.
How it would feel to carry a baby in her body, to cuddle it close as she fed it. To smile down into that sweet face capped with dark curls and startlingly light blue eyes.
“You okay?”
Talia jumped in her seat at the sound of Jack’s voice. He stood to the left of her seat, looking down at her face with a look of concern in his eyes. Startlingly light blue eyes.
The baby she’d been envisioning was Jack’s.
She swallowed hard and felt her face burn at the realization. “I’m fine,” she said, wincing at the nervous pitch in her voice.
“If you say so. But I’ve asked you twice if you wanted me to get you a plate.”
“Sorry, I was just”—fantasizing about what it might be like to have your baby—“wondering how Jennie’s handling things at the restaurant.”
Jack gave her a suspicious look but then shrugged and repeated his offer to get her a plate.
“I’ll take a look for myself,” she said, and got up.
As he motioned her to precede him through the crowd, her mind teemed with questions about his past, the mysterious Gina, and the other so-called broken birds. But she wasn’t exactly sure of the best approach, especially when it meant copping to eavesdropping on him and Danny.
About ten yards away from the barbecue line, her heel caught in a crack in the flagstone. Talia’s leg faltered and she felt the stomach-sinking, humiliating certainty that she was about to fall, hard, in front of all these people.
Strong hands grabbed her before she hit the pavement, lifting her back to her feet, keeping his arm around her to steady her.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Jack murmured, and warmth like nothing she’d ever felt rushed through her.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling up at him in gratitude and something else she didn’t quite know what to call—it had been so long since she’d felt anything close to it. All she knew was that she didn’t want this moment to end, Jack’s strong arm around her, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled back down at her.
He kept his hand on the small of her back as he guided her up to the buffet, and Talia pushed away all the questions swirling in her head. Now was not the time to delve into the secrets of Jack’s past, to wonder about the women who came before and who might come after.
Though she’d stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago, right now Talia was going to revel in the feeling of having Jack beside her and indulge in the fantasy that he would always be there to catch her when she fell.
Chapter 14
Jack could feel Talia’s stare on the drive home, but every time he glanced over to catch it, she quickly averted her gaze out the window. It only served to heighten the frustration he’d worked overtime to hide throughout the night.
Other than his aborted scuffle with Danny, the night had been pleasant enough. Or it would have been if Jack had actually just been going to a party with Talia as his actual date, instead of living in some bizarro side world where the only reason she was with him was because he needed to keep her safe from the creep who was out to get her.
Usually he liked hanging out with his friends, liked seeing them—especially Danny—get taken down a peg by the gorgeous women who had them totally whipped. Liked watching little Anna run her daddy ragged and the panicked look Ethan got on his face every time baby Joey so much as squealed.
But tonight it had been torture. As he’d watched Talia move throughout the night, coming out of her shell with the others, talking and cracking sly jokes until even Danny was laughing, it had occurred to Jack that she could fit right into this crowd.
They could be a couple just like the others, sharing knowing glances and touches under the table that they thought no one else noticed.
Jack had never realized how much he wanted that until tonight, when every loving gesture was a sharp poke in the chest. Taunting him, reminding him of what he couldn’t have, at least not with Talia.
And every flash of her beautiful smile, the sound of her laugh, every glimpse of her legs under that flirty dress hammering home the fact that Danny, Derek, and Ethan would go home, settle into bed, and wrap themselves around the loves of their lives.
And Jack would go back to Talia’s house, watch her retreat up the stairs to her solitary bed, hard as a spike, every cell in his body aching for her, the bitter taste of futility on his tongue.
Shit. Danny was right. Jack was a fucking sap, a sucker who was once again throwing everything aside as he threw himself at a woman who, although she might care for him, would never be capable of giving him what he wanted from her. What he needed.
Ironic, considering as he left the party tonight, Danny had pulled him aside and said in a low voice, “Maybe you’re on to something with this one.”
He was on to another dead end, Jack thought grimly. But it wasn’t like he had any other choice. Contrary to what Talia might think, he would never in a million years cut and run just because he wasn’t going to get a payback.
It wasn’t her fault Jack wanted more. It wasn’t her fault that every time he saw her smile, heard her laugh, or caught her clean, soapy scent in the air, he had to fight the urge to yank her to him and never let go.
And most of all—the one thing he wished she’d realize—it wasn’t her fault she’d fallen for David Maxwell’s good looks, charm, and cash. And it wasn’t her fault Nate Brewster had tortured her down in that cellar.
That one was all on Jack. He was prepared to spend the rest of his days at her side, protecting her from monsters if that’s what it took. All while keeping his hands very much to himself.
But it was one thing to accept that, Jack thought as he pulled into the garage and turned off the ignition, and another to live the reality. The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak, as they said. Or in his case, the flesh was in blue-ball hell.
He went into the house first and had her wait in the garage while he did a quick sweep of the house and disarmed the alarm. At his all-clear, she came in and immediately kicked off her shoes.
“Oh, that’s better,” she said as she wiggled her toes on the linoleum and did a couple of calf raises. “I can’t believe I used to wear shoes like that for hours on end.” She yawned and stretched her arms to the ceiling.
Jack couldn’t manage more than a grunt in reply because he was transfixed on the way her skirt slid up her thigh, exposing a couple more inches of smooth, honey-colored skin. He forced his eyes upward. “I’m going to watch some TV.”
He flopped onto the couch and pretended to be engrossed in a show about the Battle of the Bulge, which was nearly impossible when Talia settled onto the cushion next to him and curled her legs under her. Even more impossible when Talia gave a little sigh and said, “I actually had fun tonight, Jack. Thanks for taking me.”
“It’s not like I had a choice,” Jack said, his gaze never leaving the TV screen. He was afraid if he looked at her with her smoky dark eyes and exposed skin of her shoulders and legs, he’d lose it.
“Well, thanks anyway,” she said, sounding a little irritated. She swung her legs onto the floor and stalked to the kitchen. He heard the sound of glass rattling and ice clinking.
He looked up to see her, hip propped in the doorway, sipping on a clear drink that could have been seltzer but he suspected was a cocktail. It was at least her third of the night. “What’s with the booze
?”
She took another small sip and curled her lip. “I need to do something to dull the edges around here.”
Jack’s gaze swung back to the TV but he could still feel her gaze on him. That probing, curious stare she’d been giving him from the time he’d returned from his little chat with Danny.
He snapped his eyes up to meet hers, and this time she didn’t try to pretend she hadn’t been looking.
“What?” he snapped. “You’ve been giving me looks all night. Is there something you want from me? Because if not, I could use a break.” He knew he was being a dick, but this night—this week—had been utter hell on his equilibrium, and any fuse he had was wearing mighty short.
Her gaze didn’t falter and she continued to stare at him over the rim of her glass. “Who’s Gina?” she asked, and took another sip of her drink.
Shit. She must have overheard him and Danny earlier. “She’s someone I used to know.” He grabbed the remote and hit the up arrow on the volume.
Talia walked over, took the remote, and clicked off the power, and then sat down next to him. “It sounds like it was more than that, Jack. And since Danny seemed to think I bear some similarities—what did he call us? Broken birds? I feel like I deserve to know.”
Jack scrubbed his face with his hand. The memories were nearly a decade old, so dark and ugly and not anything he wanted to revisit.
“Come on, Jack,” Talia said, her tone gentler. “You know the deepest and the dirtiest about me, and I know next to nothing about you.” She let out a little laugh. “You saved my life, you saved Rosie’s life, and I didn’t even know you lived on a houseboat until two days ago!”
“You seemed fine not asking questions before.”
“You weren’t living in my house before. My memories are vague, Jack, but I think this is what people who care about each other do. Ask questions, share stories from their past, and get to know each other.”
“So you care about me now?”
He focused on the delicate lines of her throat as she swallowed. “Of course I care about you, Jack.” She reached out a hand but stopped short of touching him.