Coming In Last

by Shiloh Walker

  The distant sound of laughter drifted through to Jamie and he groaned, pulling his mouth from her sweet flesh, kissing his way up the column of her neck, raking his teeth along it, biting the cord gently before stooping down and nuzzling the soft skin. “I’m going to have to have you, Andi. Soon,” he whispered, drawing his hand from her panties, shuddering as her thighs parted to cradle him.

  Laughter and squeals echoed from outside and a tiny body hurled against the door.

  They both froze.

  God, how much time had passed? Too much, Andi realized, risking a glance at the clock, stunned to realize nearly twenty minutes had passed since he had followed her into the daycare, twenty minutes spent lost in his arms, and lost in his kisses.

  Slowly, he straightened, meeting her eyes as he lifted his hand and slowly slid two fingers into his mouth, licking them thoroughly. The taste, dark, wild, tangy, exploded on his tongue and Jamie was lost. Closing his eyes, he lowered his forehead to hers and damned himself to hell. There was no way he could stay away from her, not when she kissed him like that, not when she melted against him, not when she came in his arms like she had been made for his touch alone. Drawing back, he stared at her, laying one hand along her cheek.

  “Have lunch with me, Andi?” he asked again.

  She nodded silently, pausing briefly to touch her fingers to the back of his hand, before stepping past him.

  The door closed gently behind her, leaving Jamie to stare at the walls adorned with children’s art and black and white photos. He shrugged his suit jacket back into place, automatically adjusting it to hide his weapon as he ran his hands down his face before dipping them into his pockets.

  How had this happened?

  He was in love with her.

  All the way, completely in love with a woman he had only known less than a month, one he had met only because he’d suspected she was involved in siphoning money from the tool and dye company that was owned by his godfather.

  “Well,” he muttered to himself. “All relationships have problems.”

  He could only hope that he could work his way so deeply into her life that she wouldn’t be able to kick him out once she found him out.

  Chapter Five

  The computer screen was blank, as it had been for a month. She hadn’t been able to get much of anything done since the car wreck. But Andi sailed through the door of her house, tossed her bag onto the couch and headed for the computer.

  As it booted up, she poured herself a glass of tea, kicked off her shoes and changed into a loose pair of lounging pajamas.

  If luck was with her, she was going to be up very late. Sometime during the day, whether it was when Jamie had followed her into her office, or when he had taken her out to lunch, the dam had broken and once more, the story had filled her head.

  Maybe it was when he had taken her to eat at McDonald’s and insisted they eat at the playground. Maybe it had been when he had kissed her right before opening the car door for her.

  But likely it had happened when he had kissed her senseless again, in the privacy of her small office.

  She started at the beginning, ripping the story to pieces, like she was taking apart an old shirt to use as a pattern for another.

  From time to time, her hands stilled over the keyboard and she would stare into space, not thinking about the story, but the man who had somehow slipped past her guard. Even though she had been determined—still was—to keep him at a distance.

  The phone rang and Andi turned her head, considered answering it before turning her attention back to the screen. The ringing persisted for a full minute before whoever it was hung up, but Andi was consumed once again by the story, and she barely noticed. It occurred to her that it might have been Jamie, but she dismissed the idea. No matter how much she thought about him, she refused to leap for the phone every time it rang, like some giddy high school girl with a crush on the captain of the football team.

  Of course, when the phone started ringing fifteen minutes later, she leaped from her chair and snatched it, staring at the screen, biting her lip before saying, “Hello?”

  “Ms. Morrow, this is Sandi, calling on behalf of Riverdale Lodge. We wanted to know if we could count on you for another donation—”

  Andi closed her eyes and let her head fall back as the volunteer droned on.

  He didn’t even have her phone number, Andi told herself sometime later, dropping into an overstuffed chair. Why was she expecting him to call her, anyway? “You can’t really believe he meant all that,” she muttered to herself, as she lowered the phone after agreeing to get together any old clothes, thinking of the surreal episode in her office. Maybe it had all been a lust-induced dream.

  Caught off guard, she automatically answered the phone when it rang a few minutes later. “Hello,” she said, suddenly feeling very weary.

  “Hello, Andi.”

  She sat up straight, her feet going to the floor, her hand clenching the handset tightly. “Jamie?”

  He laughed at the evident surprise in her voice. “Were you expecting somebody else?” he asked.

  “Ah, no. I don’t remember giving you my number.”

  “Don’t you remember the day you found me in your office, Andi? Accused me of knowing everything but your shoe size? Size six, by the way.”

  “You got it from the personnel files,” she finished, pressing her fingers to her temple.

  “Your shoe size? No. That’s not in your records. I just guessed. But your number? Yes. Does that bother you?”

  “I can’t say I like having people poring through my personnel files,” she answered, lifting one shoulder in a shrug.

  “I can’t say I like that it was necessary to do so,” Jamie said with a sigh. “But that’s part of my job. Of course, I doubt that’s the reason I looked it up again earlier this week.”

  “Have you found who did it yet?”

  Quietly, Jamie said, “Andi, I can’t talk about that. I shouldn’t even be talking to you until this mess is solved. I knew it wasn’t you, Andi. It took less than fifteen minutes in your company to figure that out. And that’s all I can say. Look, can we just not talk about this, baby? Once everything is settled, I’ll answer any questions you have, I promise.”

  Staring out into the night, relief creeping through her tense body, Andi told him, “I just needed to hear you say it wasn’t me, Jamie.”

  “You know, I can count on one hand the number of times you’ve called me by my name,” he said.

  Propped against the headboard of his bed, clad in baggy white cotton pants, one arm resting on his knee, Jamie closed his eyes, listened to her voice.

  “Is that why you called?” she asked, laughing a little. “So I’d say your name?”

  “No,” he answered. “I called because I wanted to hear your voice. And to ask if we could go out to dinner Friday.”

  Her hesitation was enough to make Jamie’s jaw clench, his free hand close into a fist.

  “I think I’d like that,” she finally said softly, and just like that, the tension left, as if it had never been there.

  “I’ll pick you up around—what time is good?”

  “Seven thirty, at least,” she replied. “That will give me time to get home and change.”

  When she hung up a few minutes later, Jamie rested his head against the wrought iron of the headboard, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, not seeing a damn thing.

  This had to end, and soon.

  ♥

  Jamie’s footsteps slowed when he rounded the corner. Letcher was pacing back and forth in front of the small office where Jamie and Mick had set up shop. He kept shooting the ever-present cleaning girl dirty looks and finally said, “Go clean the break room, will you? It’s terrible in there.”

  The girl gathered up her supplies, shot Letcher an evil look, and slid past Jamie with what he could only call an inviting smile. Jeez, the cleaning girl, who was barely old enough to be out of
high school, and preschool girls, all looking at him with wide, flirtatious eyes.

  Of course, Andi was only a few years older than the cleaning girl, but her eyes weren’t flirtatious, they were downright seductive, downright hot.

  Ignoring the girl and sidestepping her cart, he shifted his briefcase and took a deep gulp of coffee. Art’s nervous pacing stilled once he caught sight of Jamie and his typical benevolent smile appeared. The eyes continued to jump around a little too much, though.

  You gonna make this easy for me, Letch? he wondered.

  When Letcher held out his hand for a shake, Jamie held up his coffee and briefcase, shrugged. He then juggled enough to free one hand so he could dig the key out of his pocket before glancing at Letcher and asking, “Was there something you needed to talk to me about?”

  Of course there was. Unless you just happened to be in the neighborhood…

  Letcher waited until Jamie entered the office, following him in and closing the door behind him. As the latch clicked, Art turned to look at Jamie. “I’m just wondering how things are progressing with the investigation.”

  Jamie started to make a noncommittal shrug but then he stopped, and forced himself to say, “I’m still following the avenues we discussed a few weeks back.”

  Art’s thick unibrow rose and his flat, almost colorless eyes widened. Voice dropping a degree lower, he asked, “Is the…avenue looking rather bad at the moment?”

  Disgust sat cold in his belly as Jamie turned away, shrugging out of his linen jacket. “It’s not looking too great,” was all he was able to say. Pivoting, he met Letcher’s eyes and said, in an apologetic tone, “I know you are concerned about this, being such good friends with Jeb. But I really am not open to discuss this with anybody, not until we have it settled.”

  “Oh, of course, of course,” Letcher said, waving his pudgy pink hands. “I understand. I just had to ask, you know. This is just going to tear Jeb apart. He really does care for that girl. Myself, I never really trusted her. Word is, she came from a long line of foster homes, something of a troublemaker.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Jamie said, turning back to his desk so Letcher couldn’t see the rage in his eyes.

  “And after all, blood will tell, won’t it, McAdams?”

  “That’s what my grandmother swears by,” Jamie said, a muscle pulsing in his jaw. “I appreciate all the help,” The words almost made him sick, “you’ve given us. You’ve saved us some time pointing us in the right direction so quickly.” At least that wasn’t a total lie.

  Sighing, Art shook his head and met Jamie’s eyes when the younger man turned around. “If I had realized what kind of trouble she is capable of, I would have had her out of here long before now.”

  “I’m sure you would have.” Get the hell out of here, Jamie thought furiously. Before I rip you apart with my bare hands.

  “It was a good idea, you know. Letting her think you’ve developed an interest in her. Women are always a sucker for a pretty face and pretty words, aren’t they? Especially when they look like she does, such a plain little thing,” Letcher mused, giving him a wink. “Gives you a chance to get closer and nose around without being noticed, eh? And maybe a few side benefits?”

  Plain, Andi? A sucker? Not only was the man a fucking thief, he was fucking stupid. And blind. And so damned disgusting Jamie just wanted to strangle him.

  Jamie wasn’t sure if he would have held his cool much longer if the door hadn’t open to reveal Mick standing there, his hair looking like he had been dragging his fingers through it and his face set in his perpetual scowl. His eyes widened in feigned surprise and he gave a not so covert glance at Letcher before looking at his partner. “Jamie, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were busy.”

  “Oh, I have to be going anyway,” Letcher said, giving Jamie a broad smile before scurrying down the hall like the rat he was.

  “Calm down there, kid,” was all Mick had to say as he went about the business of plopping his briefcase down on his own desk and opening it up.

  “I don’t think I want to turn him over to the police,” Jamie said, his voice calm and almost friendly. Flags of red flew high on his cheeks as he turned and met Mick’s gaze with narrowed, anger-darkened eyes. “I’d just as soon tear him apart here and now. Think Jeb would consider it justice?”

  Mick knew better than to respond when Jamie was that angry. He just made a noncommittal hum and went about pulling a recording device from his briefcase. The one he constantly carried in his pocket joined it a moment later as he removed his rumpled jacket. “You remember I’ve got a meeting set up with Letcher today, right? Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll admit to the whole deal.”

  “Mick.”

  The quiet voice had Mick raising his eyes. He met the pale green eyes of his friend, scowling inwardly when Jamie softly said, “I’m in love with her.”

  “You don’t even know her.”

  “I know everything I need to know,” Jamie said, turning away. “I’m in love with her and I just led that bastard to believe I had every intention of throwing her in jail. I thanked him for it.”

  “You’ve got a job to do. If she’s worth any of the stress you’re putting yourself through, then she should understand responsibility,” Mick said, tossing the door a quick glance. How long would it take to get through the door? For Pete’s sake, the boy was talking about love.

  To him, of all people, a total dunce when it came to love. Why in the hell wasn’t he talking to his father?

  “Did you fucking hear me?” Jamie bellowed. He turned and slammed his fist into the wall. And then he slammed his forehead against it and just stood there and whispered, “I thanked him. And I’m in love with her. Damn it, Mick, she’s the woman I’ve been waiting for my entire life, and I’ve lost her before I’ve gotten her.”

  Mick ran his tongue around his teeth and tried to figure out how to proceed. “Jamie, you’ve got a responsibility. Andi will—”

  “Responsibility? Since when did responsible involve setting up innocent people?” Jamie snapped, totally disgusted with himself and his partner.

  “We aren’t setting her up—”

  Savagely, Jamie said, “The hell we aren’t.” His furious eyes landed on the device lying on Mick’s desk, and snapped, “Will you turn that damn thing off? You don’t need my voice on it, for God’s sake.”

  “Jamie—”

  He just shook his head, the edgy feeling inside him spreading. Jamie was absolutely certain, if something didn’t give, he’d soon be destroying things with his bare hands. Snatching his blazer from the back of the chair, he stalked out the door Mick had been eyeing, shoving his arms into the sleeves, automatically shrugging the sidearm into place, the fine material concealing it.

  If he had any sense of self-preservation, he’d get in his car and not stop driving until he got back to Indy.

  He rounded the corner to the elevators, not even sure where he was going, when he stopped dead in his tracks.

  The long hair was piled high on her head today, revealing long dangling silver earrings that caught the light as she turned her head, glanced at the clock. His eyes narrowed as they studied her trim derriere in new, stylishly-cut uniform pants. Her normal tunic was replaced by a shirt cut to resemble a vest, a neat little tie in the small of her back, emphasizing her narrow waist and rounded hips, her perfectly shaped butt.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have teased her about those baggy uniforms she wore.

  Damn, she looked good.

  All the rage, frustration, and anger changed, channeled itself into a different kind of emotion. One he could indulge in, to some extent. Ravenous, desperate need surged to the forefront and he narrowed his eyes as he crossed the hall.

  He moved quietly, waited until he was a few feet away before saying, “Hey.”

  She whirled around, her fair complexion going rosy when she saw him. “Jamie.”

  Dipping his hands in his pockets, he r
ocked back on his heels. “What are you doing wandering around down here in this part of the dungeon?”

  Her mouth curved up in a grin as she stared down the sterile white hall. “Don’t like the ambiance, huh?”

  “What’s to like?” he asked with a shrug.

  Reaching up, he toyed with a long tendril that had come loose from the knot on top her head. Winding it around his finger, he studied her face. “You didn’t come down here to find me and tell me Friday’s off, did you?”

  Her breath came out in a rush and she said, “Well, yes and no.”

  Eyes narrowed, he caught her chin, lifting her gaze to his. “I’m not backing off again, Andi.”

  One red brow arched and she said, “I wasn’t aware I’d asked you to. I came down here looking for you, yes. But not to cancel Friday.” Her cheeks went pink and she lifted her shoulders restlessly. “I just wanted to see you.”

  “You came looking for me, just to see me,” Jamie repeated. “What stopped you?”

  Her nose wrinkled and she rolled her eyes. “I saw you had company loitering outside your door. Letcher isn’t one of my favorite people.”

  Jamie laughed and said, “Liar. You know you’re crazy about him. It’s that cologne he wears.”

  “No,” Andi replied, deadpan. “It’s the way he combs all his hair from the side of his head to cover his bald spot.” She rolled her eyes and shuddered dramatically. “Drives me wild. Makes me want to just rip my clothes off and throw myself at his feet.”

  He reached up, ran his fingers through his thick black hair and said, “If that’s all it takes, let me just make an appointment with my stylist.”

  Her grin flashed but before she could say anything they heard the elevator bell.

  He looked around, grabbed her hand and said, “Come on. Unless you want to go visit Art.”

  Moments later, the elevator doors opened to an empty basement hall. Behind a door across that hall, Jamie leaned his hips against a vacant table. Still holding her hand, he tugged her closer, reaching up to trace the line of her jaw. The small office was empty and the lights were dim.