Footsteps in the Dark

by Josh Lanyon

  Shrugging, I said, “No problem.”

  “I need to grab some things from my place first.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Is that okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “Promise this isn’t an imposition?”

  Of course it was, but I avoided his question. “It’s best you break up your usual pattern. Staying in a hotel will help with that.”

  “Okay.” He met my gaze. “I’ll go get my car. I’m in Lot B.”

  “I’ll wait for you near the front entrance.”

  I told Andy and the others where I was going, then headed for my car to escort Jax to his house. I felt a bit silly jumping through hoops for the guy, but I also knew I’d rest easier knowing he was tucked away somewhere safe.

  It only took him about ten minutes to pull up to the entrance, and from there we drove past the news vans that had gathered outside the studio gates. Dale’s death was titillating news, so it wasn’t surprising those vultures were circling.

  On the way to Jax’s house we passed the Grauman’s Chinese Theatre with its pagodas and Chinese Heaven Dog statues, then the Hollywood Wax Museum. Tourist traps held no appeal for me. I couldn’t grasp why people flocked to see celebrities’ handprints in the cement, but I was in the minority. Even my parents fell for the Hollywood allure and insisted on visiting the Hollywood Walk of Fame each time during their annual visit from Wyoming.

  Once we reached Jax’s home, I’d planned on waiting in the car, but he tapped on my window and mouthed for me to come inside. Walking up the stone path to his palatial home, I felt out of place. Everything was impeccable, from the neatly trimmed roses to the bright yellow and purple petunias perfectly spaced along the walkway. As I neared the glass front door, my reflection reminded me I was anything but impeccable. I looked like a used-cars salesman, while Jax, even unkempt, looked like a menswear model.

  I stayed alert as we entered Jax’s home. The foyer was marble with an elaborate chandelier overhead. His alarm system beeped reassuringly, and he punched in his code to turn it off. The floor plan was wide open, with lots of windows, and the temperature was cool. I followed him into the living room, where he stood in the center, looking unsure.

  “Would you like a drink?” He pointed to a bar on the far end of the room. “I have everything.”

  My mouth watered at the idea of whiskey, but I shook my head. “No thanks.”

  He pulled off his jacket, and my gaze was unwillingly drawn to the firm, tanned skin of his stomach peeking from his untucked shirt. I didn’t want to be attracted to him, but it was hard not to be. He was perfect. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with a guy as flawless as he seemed. Would he be more vulnerable in bed? Maybe he’d be controlling because he was used to being in charge.

  I pulled my thoughts back to reality. I wasn’t ever likely to find out what Jax was like in bed. He hadn’t even been willing to grab a meal with me; last thing he’d do was drag me to his bed. The thought of Jax trying to seduce me almost made me laugh, so I turned away and sat on the blue-velvet sectional.

  “I’ll go throw some things in a bag,” he said softly. “Won’t be long.”

  “No problem.” I leaned back and closed my eyes. His house was quiet. The street I lived on was busy and noisy, and my two-bedroom home wasn’t very well insulated. But Jax’s house was as silent as a library. Since his alarm had been armed when we arrived, I felt relaxed. Odds were no evildoers lurked inside his closet.

  He took a little longer than expected, and I must have drifted off because the next thing I knew Jax was waking me up. I jerked upright, feeling embarrassed. “Crap. Sorry.” I raked a hand through my hair, my face hot.

  “My hero, fast asleep.” He sounded amused.

  “Yeah, I’d be a lot of help, right?” I stood, still feeling groggy and self-conscious. His hair was damp, and he’d changed into different clothes. His cologne smelled crisp and clean.

  He studied me. “I’m sure your work is exhausting. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

  I cleared my throat. “Um…yeah. So, are you ready to go?”

  “Yes. But I was thinking…before we head to the hotel, maybe I could make us something to eat here.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh, well, as a thank-you for going to all this trouble for me.”

  “I thought you weren’t hungry.”

  “I’m a little hungry now.” He shrugged. “It was just a thought.”

  Maybe he’d been hungry all along but had been too embarrassed to be seen with me in public. He probably had to be careful about his rep. After all, he was trying to climb the Hollywood ladder. Perhaps the paparazzi kept track of who he dined with, and the last thing he wanted was to have a photo of us dining together plastered all over the entertainment rags.

  “Can you cook?”

  He laughed. “Yes.”

  “What kind of stuff can you make?” I asked suspiciously. “I don’t tend to eat fancy food.”

  “What’s fancy to you?”

  “Escargot. Stinky cheeses. Avocado toast. You know, a rich person’s food.”

  He grinned. “Avocado toast isn’t a rich person’s food. And it’s delicious for breakfast.”

  “I’m more of a steak-and-eggs kind of guy.”

  He smirked. “Of course you are.”

  I gave a grudging smile. “You don’t have to cook for me. I’d do this for anyone in your predicament.” That wasn’t entirely true, but he didn’t need to know that.

  His smile faded. “I know. It’s just…once I get to the hotel, I’ll be alone with my dreary thoughts.” His eyes glittered with uncertainty.

  “I thought you liked being alone.”

  “I like being alone at home. A hotel isn’t home.” He sighed. “I’d like to just pretend none of this is happening.”

  That strange urge to comfort him returned, but I shook it off. “Being paranoid is probably a good thing right now.”

  He groaned. “God, don’t say that.” He dropped onto the couch near me.

  His palpable fear got to me, and I softened my voice. “I just think you need to be alert. Pretending this isn’t happening won’t help anything.”

  “I know.”

  I sat down again, careful not to sit too close to him. “We can eat here if you want.”

  His expression brightened. “You sure?”

  “Yeah. I’m pretty beat. I planned on going back to the studio, but I don’t think I will. I can go in earlier tomorrow to make up for knocking off early this afternoon. I’ll call my lieutenant and let him know.” His pleased smile made my stomach clench. Jesus, what was going on with me? Since when did I care about pleasing some guy I barely knew?

  “I have steaks in the freezer. We can barbecue out by the pool.” His face seemed less tense. “Maybe we can even swim.”

  I frowned. “The point of this little trip was to get you checked into a hotel, remember?”

  “We can do that after.” He stood, looking much happier. “I have swim trunks you can borrow.”

  “Jax… I… I can’t go swimming with you.”

  His dark brows pulled together. “Why not? Aren’t you off the clock now?”

  I was. But it still felt odd to hang out with him when I was investigating who was trying to hurt him. I no longer considered him a suspect, but it still seemed strange to socialize with him. “It’s not good to get too close to people connected to the investigation.”

  “Why?”

  “Well…” I struggled to find an answer. “It just isn’t.”

  “That’s not really an answer. Tell me what’s wrong with getting to know me?”

  “It’s best if I see things impersonally.”

  “You can’t do your job if you know me better?”

  “I can. It’s just best not to muddy the waters.”

  “Seems silly.” He sighed. “But if you don’t want to swim, that’s fine. However, I’m still cooking you dinner. I mean, you climbed out of a burning building
for me.”

  “I was saving my own ass too.”

  He nodded with a knowing expression. “Okay. You can play the uncaring tough guy role if that makes you feel better.”

  “This isn’t a role.”

  “Whatever you say, Decker.” He moved toward the doorway. “I guess I’ll just have to win you over by dazzling you with my culinary skills.”

  My lips twitched. “I don’t dazzle easily.”

  He snorted a laugh. “Of that I have little doubt.”

  Chapter Five

  I ended up swapping out caffeine for a glass of whiskey. My nerves needed something to help calm the uneasiness nestled in my gut. Jax opted for wine, and as he defrosted the steaks he talked about coming to Los Angeles years ago from Nebraska.

  “My parents thought I was nuts.” He laughed, but pain fluttered through his gaze. “They wanted me to be an accountant.”

  “God. Really?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “My dad’s an accountant. It’s very stable work.”

  “Sure. And also incredibly boring.” I sipped my drink, enjoying the warmth spreading through my chest.

  “Stability is a big thing in my family. My sister is a nurse, and my mom was a home-economics teacher.”

  “Is that where you learned to cook?”

  “No. I took a few cooking classes when I got to Los Angeles.” He smirked. “All the cool kids were doing it.”

  “Got it. I usually avoid all things cool.”

  His eyes widened. “Shocker.”

  “Hey, now.” I frowned.

  He smiled. “I thought being able to cook would come in handy when I became rich and famous. I saw myself throwing elaborate dinner parties and cooking for all my friends.”

  “That didn’t happen?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Hell no. Everybody hires caterers from their favorite restaurants so they can brag they know the chef personally.”

  “God, your world sounds exhausting.” I took a long pull of whiskey.

  “And murder isn’t?”

  “It is. It’s also depressing. Or it can be.”

  “Do you always get your man?” His voice was slightly flirtatious.

  My pulse tingled a bit at his husky tone, but I figured I was probably reading into things. “Usually.”

  He glanced up and batted his eyelashes. “I usually get mine too.”

  Okay, maybe I wasn’t reading into anything after all.

  Feeling out of my depth, I decided to change the subject. “I’ll have to reschedule my interview with Trevor.”

  He blinked at me. “Oh…yeah. That’s true.”

  “Maybe Trevor set the fire so he wouldn’t need to answer my questions.”

  “No. I keep telling you Trevor wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “You’d be surprised how many times I hear that from people, and they’re wrong.” I swirled my whiskey, watching different emotions roll across his handsome features.

  “There is no way Trevor tried to murder us. If you knew the guy, you’d realize how silly that theory is.” He took the steaks from the microwave and moved to the glass door.

  I jumped up and opened it for him, and he gave me a curt nod. “Thanks.”

  I followed him outside, and had to stop myself from gasping at the size of his backyard. There was a big pool, an elaborate grilling area with under-the-counter refrigerators, lounge chairs, and a yard big enough to play football in.

  He gave me a knowing glance. “Yeah. The yard is one of my favorite features of the house.”

  “Wow. This is nice.” I stood on the edge of the brick patio, surveying the grounds. “It must take a week for your gardener to mow this yard.”

  He just smiled and fired up the grill.

  I inhaled the scent of jasmine, and let out a long sigh. “You could rope steer back here.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll take that under consideration.”

  “But seriously, what do you do with all this space?”

  “Mostly I like it because it creates distance between me and the neighbors.” He shrugged. “I don’t get to enjoy the backyard as much as I’d like, to be honest.”

  “No. I wouldn’t think so. Too busy taking Hollywood by storm.”

  He gave me an annoyed glance. “Maybe you shouldn’t work the Hollywood division. You seem to have a chip on your shoulder.”

  “Nah. I’m just teasing.”

  “I’m not so sure. Did an actor break your heart or something?” He placed the steaks on the grill, and they sizzled loudly.

  “I don’t have a heart.”

  “That would probably come in handy in your line of work.”

  “That’s the truth.” I turned to watch him since he seemed distracted by tending to the meat. His hands were slender, with long, tanned fingers and perfectly buffed nails. I glanced down at my calloused hands, and it occurred to me I was still wearing the same smoky clothes. “I just realized I sat on your couch in these filthy clothes.”

  He looked over. “Oh, that’s okay. I’m sure the couch is fine.” He frowned. “Damn, I should have given you some clean clothes. Would you like to change?”

  The idea of wearing his clothes was strangely sensual, and yet it also felt wrong. Not to mention my shoulders were broader than his; I wasn’t sure I’d even fit into his clothes. But I hated smelling like a chimney. “Well…”

  “You didn’t expect to still be stuck in those clothes, I’m sure. You’d have probably gone home to shower and change if you weren’t trying to look out for me.” He wrinkled his brow. “Come on, let me get you some clean clothes.”

  Maybe it was the whiskey, or maybe I was too exhausted to argue, but I found myself nodding. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  He smiled. “Not at all.” He eyed me, and my pulse sped up as he ran his gaze over my body. “You’re more muscular than me. I have a few shirts that are too large for me. Come with me, and you can change upstairs.”

  I set my empty whiskey glass on a table and followed him into the house. He led me up a curved staircase to his master bedroom. I was embarrassed that my heart rate sped up as we entered his master suite. I wasn’t someone who usually had trouble focusing, but something about Jax made staying aloof difficult. I made sure not to look at his king-size bed, and kept my gaze glued on him.

  “Would you like to take a shower?”

  I thought longingly of soap and warm water. “Maybe.”

  “Yeah. You should. Let me grab you some clean clothes for after your shower.”

  He went into a huge walk-in closet and returned with two shirts, one red and one blue. They both still had the tags on them, and they were a lot more money than I usually spent on shirts. He held up the red one and looked at me with narrowed eyes. “With your blond hair and blue eyes, you’d look good in either color.”

  “It’s not a fashion show,” I muttered, feeling self-conscious. “I just don’t want to stink of smoke.”

  He didn’t react to my grumpy tone. “I think the blue one.” He held the shirt out to me. “Take off your dirty shirt and pants, and I’ll have them cleaned at the hotel.”

  “What? I’m not stripping down in front of you.”

  He laughed. “So bashful. Who knew macho Detective Decker was shy about his body.”

  “I’m not shy about my body. I just don’t feel it’s appropriate to strip in front of a stranger.”

  He lifted one brow. “A stranger? We faced death together. We aren’t strangers.”

  I made no move to take off my shirt.

  “The steaks are going to burn if you keep being stubborn.” He dropped his gaze to my slacks. “I think I have some jeans that will fit you.” He went back into the closet, returning a few moments later with a pair of jeans. “Here. Shower and change, and I’ll go check on the meat. Leave your dirty clothes on the floor. I’ll grab them later.”

  “You don’t have to clean my clothes. If you have a plastic bag, I’ll take them home in that.”

  “I don’t mind. You
climbed out of a burning building for me; the least I can do is wash your clothes.”

  “I keep telling you that was mostly self-preservation on my part.”

  “And I don’t believe you,” he said softly.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Suit yourself. But I’m no hero.”

  He smirked, lifting his face. “You’re my hero, Decker.”

  His full lips were tempting, and if I’d been braver, maybe I’d have leaned closer and kissed him. He almost looked like he expected me to. Instead, I took the jeans from him and moved away. I was no blushing virgin, and I certainly enjoyed one-night stands, but I didn’t want to take advantage of Jax simply because he was feeling vulnerable and I happened to be here.

  He hesitated, but then moved to the door. I couldn’t tell if he was disappointed I’d moved away, or if he hadn’t even noticed. Maybe this chemistry between us was all in my head.

  “I’ll be down in a minute,” I said gruffly.

  He left the room without a word, and I headed into the large master bath. I stripped and climbed in the shower quickly. The heated water rolled down my tired body, washing away the soot and sweat of my earlier adventure. My pulse was still beating swiftly, and my hands shook slightly. It had been so long since anyone really turned me on, I felt a little like a teenager. I needed to focus on this case and stop fantasizing about seducing the rich Hollywood producer. What was wrong with me? Why had I even allowed myself to entertain that thought?

  Once I’d dried off and dressed, I made my way back outside. Jax was standing beside the pool, staring off into space. He startled when I approached.

  He ran his gaze over me. “Not bad. It’s nice seeing you in casual clothes.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure it’s the highlight of your day.”

  He smiled. “You look less intimidating in baby blue.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say, so I said nothing.

  He went back to staring across the yard. “I keep thinking…if I’d never come to Los Angeles, Dale would still be alive.”

  “Maybe it was just his time.”

  He glanced over. “Do you really believe in fate?”

  “Thinking we have no influence on when we die makes accepting death easier.”