by Zoe Dawson
She gave him a forced smile and tried to pull free. “I’ll go get us some coffee and dessert.”
He tightened his hold. “That can wait.”
Her smile was a little more genuine the second time around. “But I made brownies.” His eyes didn’t waver. “With chocolate chips. Just the way you like them.”
He knew what she was doing, and he wanted to shake her. He didn’t argue with her. He simply caught her behind the knees and gave her arm a sharp tug, tumbling her across him. Before she had time to get untangled, he shifted her legs, then locked her up in a tight embrace. “You make me lose control. Just let’s sit still for a moment.”
She remained rigid in his arms for an instant, then the tension went out of her. Pressing her face against his neck, she slid one arm around his back. As soon as she wrapped both arms around him, he let go of her. Her hair smelled like rain-washed flowers. He buried his nose in her shiny curls, leaned back and closed his eyes, a sudden tightness in his chest. It wasn’t just the weather that was closing in on him. It was hard, cold reality. With the way he felt, he couldn’t let her go, but he also couldn’t make her stay. That was her decision.
Maybe it was the hormones, the adrenaline, the desperation of being under the threat of death talking. He just didn’t know.
What he did know was their future hung in the balance. He hoped like hell she found the courage to take what she wanted. If she didn’t, they would both suffer.
Chapter Fifteen
Jenna stood at the sliding glass door, waiting for the kettle to boil, her arms wrapped around herself, the belt of her robe pulled tight. All the self-doubts, uncertainties, and anxieties had swamped her when she’d woken from a dream of a man looming over her, the threat realized as his hands reached for her. Even the comfort of Austin’s body wasn’t enough to belay her fears.
To make matters worse, the ache in the small of her back made her head for the bathroom, quietly so she wouldn’t disturb Austin. The light from the small room seemed piercingly bright, and the heaviness in her belly made her feel slightly dizzy. But what finally broke her was the visual confirmation that her period had started.
She shook her head with a small sound of pain. It wasn’t every time she got her cycle she thought about it, but tonight, for some reason it was hard on her mind.
She was thirty-two years old, divorced, childless. The awful sensation of being disconnected from everything familiar left her feeling shaky and unsure, oddly exposed. And memories—disturbing memories—had begun floating to the surface of her mind, shadowy, indistinct memories that had no shape. But they weren’t memories of things or places. They were memories of feelings. And in some ways, those were even worse.
She felt haunted, and it was nearly impossible for her to stay focused on anything. And Austin never made any reference to what had happened before they went to bed. He didn’t ask about what was bothering her, and that made her feel even more vulnerable.
She had come here to be with her only living relative, but she bit her lip. Had she really been delaying the inevitable? The decisions she needed to make to move forward.
Now there was an even bigger layer of confusion thrown over everything since she had reconnected to Austin. In a way he reminded her of what she had almost done back then at the embassy. She hated that she had been so unhappy and hated that she only had herself to blame for it.
She’d married Robert when deep down she’d known he couldn’t really make her happy. She’d given in to her father’s tyrannical need to see her safe. Then he’d died and she’d been trapped in the prison she’d made because if she was being honest with herself, she’d gone in knowing that Robert would take care of her like her father had. He would make sure she was cared for. It was her own folly in thinking that there would be love and children, cherishing and family, fulfillment and bounty.
Instead, there was nothing but loneliness, condescension, and cold. Bitter cold.
The kettle was about to whistle, and she headed for the stove at a quick pace to cut it off before it woke Austin up. She pulled it from the burner just as she heard, “Are you all right?”
She was so far away in her thoughts and the sound of his voice was so unexpected that Jenna jumped, her heart slamming into high gear as adrenaline shot through her. Closing her eyes, she clutched her hand against her chest, not quite able to disconnect from the memories and her self-exploration—self-condemnation.
Austin came over to where she was standing and caught her under the chin, forcing her to look at him. He winced when he saw her face, then caught her by the neck and pulled her into his embrace—a warm, safe embrace. Jenna turned her face against him and fought the feelings of abandonment, of fear, of shame. She had been so young when her mom died and her father had been so devastated. He hadn’t even realized how he’d abandoned her, becoming more her protector than her father, especially when she needed him.
She didn’t want to feel what that child had felt. She didn’t want to cry.
Austin tucked his head down against hers, tightening his hold, then slowly rubbed his hand up and down her back. “It’s okay, babe. I’m here for you.”
Of all the things he could have said, nothing could have been more devastating, more wrenching. It was as if he knew exactly what kind of emotional trauma she was experiencing right then and was there to lift her out of that nightmare morass. She shivered and pressed against his chest, and Austin tightened his hold.
“You want to talk about it?”
Her teeth clamped against the well of unshed tears, she shook her head. He rubbed his cheek against hers and snuggled her closer. “Do you want to go back to bed?”
She shook her head again, and he smoothed his hand up and down her back, but he didn’t say anything more; he just held her, his face tucked against hers. His warmth and physical closeness diffused the disturbing images, and Jenna clung to the solidness of him, her eyes tightly closed, and her jaw clenched. It had come out of nowhere, that realization. Without warning it was just there.
“With a little music, we could have ourselves a nice little waltz here.”
There was something so endearing in the inflection in his voice, and she turned her head to his shoulder. “You have a second life as a ballroom dancer that I don’t know about, surfer boy?” she said, her tone uneven.
She felt him grin, and he gave one of her curls a tug. “I’m a veritable Fred Astaire.”
She smiled again. “I’m afraid I’m no Ginger Rogers.” Feeling oddly vulnerable, she pulled out of his hold and removed the kettle from the burner. Fighting against the feeling in her chest, she opened the cupboard door and reached for the tea canister. “Do you want some tea?”
There was a brief pause then he said, “Why can’t you be one of those midnight margarita types?” He grinned. “Yeah, I’ll have a cup.”
She fixed a pot of tea and got two mugs out of the cupboard, then carried them to the table. Austin was leaning against the stove watching her, his unbuttoned pants riding low on his hips, his arms folded across his bare chest. He had an odd, intent look in his eyes, as if he were disassembling her piece by piece.
She set the teapot on a placemat and put the cups down beside it, knowing he was scrutinizing her and not liking the feeling. Finally, he spoke, his tone offhand. “You really don’t want to talk about it?”
She shot him a quick glance, then began filling the mugs.
She had never learned how to take care of herself. She’d come down here because—she swallowed hard—she had hoped Sarah would take the burden off her hands for a while.
Still feeling the first moment when she’d looked at herself without any illusions, she was just too ashamed. Especially about the bit where she was a little mad at Austin.
He had been this confident, exciting Marine with a killer grin and those sexy eyes. He had been passion, heat, life. And her universe had shifted. Right from the beginning, Austin Beck had made her feel special. He made her feel beautiful, smart, c
ourageous, and daring. She hadn’t wanted him ever to see her as weak, ineffectual, delusional. It had been easy to be reckless with him, to take crazy chances, because he made it so obvious that her daring pleased him. That he was proud of her. And it was the first time in her whole life that anybody had felt that way about her. There was no pride in weakness and fear.
“Jenna?”
She looked at him, his steady perusal making her edgy. She shook her head and looked away. “No, I just got my period,” she said, her voice uneven. “Nothing really to talk about, unless you’re interested in the whole menstrual cycle and my cramps.”
He didn’t react but came over to the table, pulled out a chair at the end and sat down. Bracing his elbows on the tabletop, he laced his fingers together, his thumbs resting against his mouth as he continued to watch her. Her hands not quite steady, she set a steaming cup of tea in front of him, then sat down and cupped her hands around the hot mug. He watched her for a moment, then took a sip from his mug and set it on the placemat in front of him. He fingered the handle for a moment, then looked at her, his expression mild. “When I first saw you at the embassy, I knew you were going to hurt me and hurt me bad.”
She had her mug halfway to her mouth, and she abruptly set it down, tea slopping over the edge. She stared at him, her heart lurching in her chest. She held his gaze for a moment, then abruptly looked at her hands, caught so off guard that she couldn’t even think. “Austin—”
“I wanted you like I’ve never wanted a woman before. You looked so sad, so unhappy, and all I wanted to do was put a smile on your face and light in your eyes. So, freaking beautiful.”
She looked at him, trying to recover her equilibrium. “Austin—”
“For years I wondered what would have happened if I’d gone with my instinct and taken you right there, the moment you were ripe for it. You wanted me. I know that, but I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t because you wanted to escape from your reality. I had no idea how much you turned mine upside down…until now.”
“Austin—”
“You were married, but I didn’t care. I might have felt a bit guilty afterward when I got home and had to face Melanie, but not then, when I was holding you. I know you’ve got things to work out for yourself. I’m not completely clueless. I just don’t know if you’re going to kill me this time.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.” She waited, a nervous flutter in her stomach, expecting a whole host of questions. But he didn’t say anything at all, and finally she looked at him, certain she had lost every speck of color from her face.
He was slouched down in his chair, watching her, his head tipped to one side, his arms folded across his chest, and Jenna looked away again. The silence stretched out between them, and she fidgeted with the corner of the table, trying to blink away the burning sensation in her eyes.
Finally, he said, his voice quiet, “I accept your apology if you’ll accept mine. I’m sorry I didn’t freaking track you down to see what we had was real. I’m really sorry about that because, babe, I’m pretty sure this is as freaking real as it gets.”
His words struck her an almost physical blow. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t wanted the same thing, and now she felt sick that she had never acted on it as well. She lifted her head and stared at him, her expression numb.
“Oh, God, Austin. I’m sorry about that, too.”
He gave her a small half smile, his gaze dark and penetrating. “Yeah, we’re two sorry people.” He paused, his eyes still fixed on her. “So, tell me,” he said softly, “what are we going to do about it?”
Jenna didn’t know where the sudden spasm of unbearable desolation came from, and she didn’t know why that little girl had come out of hiding now, but suddenly her eyes filled and she sat there staring at him, hurting so much for the child she had been. How could she answer that question when she was so confused? She had only made her discovery just a few moments ago. Tears spilled over, and she turned away, and quickly wiped them, feeling ashamed and exposed.
Bracing his hands on the table, Austin rose, then reached across and caught her face. Tipping her head back, he leaned over and kissed her with such immeasurable care that more tears spilled over. Tightening his hold on her face, he slowly withdrew, then trailed his knuckles down her cheek. “When you figure it out and you’re ready to talk, let me know, babe,” he said huskily. He kissed her again, then straightened, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. “I’ve changed my mind about the tea. I’m going back to bed.”
Badly shaken by the shifting, disturbing images in her mind, she stared after him, his open communication sending reverberations of a shadowy, half-remembered fear through her. It was as though her supports had abruptly crumbled away, and she was suddenly standing on unstable foundations.
Resting her forehead on her upraised knees, she closed her eyes and locked her arms around her legs, trying to quell the heart-racing panic. She had never been good at facing ghosts or at self-analysis because she had never wanted to look back—looking back meant facing all that fear and hurt and shame. It was like a huge hand clutching her chest. Maybe this time there was no escape. Maybe this time she was going to have to go back into the past before she could effectively move forward into her future.
Wiping at her tears that continued to stream, she abandoned her tea and went into the bedroom. She dropped her robe and slid in beside Austin, curling her naked body around his. He stirred and caught her arm, drawing it around him, then sighed and tucked her hand against his chest. It was such a small, unconscious gesture, but somehow momentous, and Jenna molded herself against him and closed her eyes. This was the kind of comfort she had always been looking for and now she wasn’t sure how she was going to handle anything…not herself, not Austin, not her hopes, fears, or uncertainty.
Austin was just pulling up to Billy Dyer’s house when he heard the gunshot. He had been lost in his musings about last night and his totally honest confession of what was in his heart. He and Jenna had skirted each other that morning after his outburst. He’d gotten Jack out of bed and over to Jenna’s while Austin spent his time looking into Mitch Campbell. But throughout the day, away from Jenna, he’d found out the guy had no evidence of mental health problems, had a good relationship with his family and friends, and had never been arrested or convicted of stalking. His gut was telling him he wasn’t a suspect. But that left him with no one.
But all that was blown away by the chilling sound. Billy had called him about half an hour ago, just before dusk. Austin was about to head back to Jenna’s. He had said he’d remembered something. Something important. Austin had to come right away. Billy couldn’t go to Jenna’s apartment, and he didn’t want to be outside right now.
Austin jumped out of his vehicle without even closing the door, and when he got to Billy’s front door, it was ajar. He went inside and found Billy on the floor, his eyes open and fixed, blood pooling around his head.
Then he heard a metallic sound from behind the house, and he sprinted to the back door. He saw someone jump Billy’s fence and Austin blew through the back door. Keeping close to the sides of the overgrown alley, he ran past the next two houses. As soon as he hit another fence, he vaulted it, catching another glimpse of a fleeing man, big and tall.
Dogs were barking, lights coming on all over the neighborhood. He kept running, dodging trash cans and jumping over children’s toys and around swings.
At the end of the block, he crossed another street. A hedge on the other side acted as a barrier. He darted around it and stopped cold. A crowd of people barred his way on the street. A farmer’s market stretched along the road, people looking over carrots, radishes, and beets along with heads of broccoli and cauliflower.
He swore softly and ran through the crowd anyway, but he had to accept the fact that he’d lost the man. He pulled out his cell phone as he walked back to Billy’s house, notifying Jack, who must have worked quickly—he heard the sirens as he jumped the fence in Billy’s back
yard and entered the house.
A few minutes later, the place was crawling with cops and the crime scene techs. Austin was crouched near the body, regret flowing through him. Jenna had been right. Billy wouldn’t have hurt a fly, but someone had been worried he’d known something that could implicate them and had taken him out.
“I want to know the caliber of the weapon as soon as you can get the bullet back to the lab for testing.”
“Will do, sir,” the guy said.
There was nothing else for Austin to do. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the guy, so couldn’t give a description. This frustrating case was now officially his most hated he’d ever worked.
He felt as if he was being led around by his nose, and he didn’t like that damn feeling one bit.
An hour later, he had time to kill while Jack convinced a judge to give them a warrant to search Campbell’s residence for a Beretta. The bullet came from a Px4 Compact, a small, easily concealed Beretta, and Campbell had one registered in his name. But Austin was like a cat on a hot tin roof, spending more time on his computer, checking into every aspect of Mitch Campbell’s life. He would know the color of the man’s underwear when he was done.
Jenna had settled on the couch with a book but had fallen asleep. The smell of freshly brewed coffee brought her awake, the aroma tickling her nose.
She opened her eyes, fighting through the sludge in her mind. Heaving a sigh, she threw back the throw that Austin must have covered her with after she fell asleep. She found Austin sitting at the table still on his laptop. He must have moved so as not to wake her.
“Hey,” she said, her voice still thick with sleep. There was deep regret that Billy was dead. Austin had told her when he'd returned. He might have been a nuisance, but he was harmless. She'd given Austin a hard time about it, but then realized from his tight expression he was feeling guilty about Billy's death. He had said he was sorry about the whole thing, but he'd had to follow up on it.
