It didn’t take her long to toss the blanket aside and make it to the door. She quickly shifted the curtain to make sure that it was Dean on her front step. She smiled when she saw that he came bearing gifts in the form of two very large bags and a pretty big box somehow lodged underneath his right arm.
That faint flutter that settled into her stomach upon seeing him once more and knowing what could possibly occur within the next hour or so had a rush of blood going straight to her head. He’d only entered into her life two days ago, but that didn’t deter her from wanting to know everything there was to know about him. Tonight was a turning point, and she wouldn’t ignore the significance of her decision to concede to her desire.
“Hey,” Kenna greeted softly, not wanting Spartacus upset more than he already was by the interruption. She also wasn’t quite sure how to act around him now that they’d both agreed that this was no longer a simply professional rapport. “Did you buy out the store?”
“Considering that I’m the one who saddled you with a feral cat from a crime scene, the least I could do was get what was on your list and more. The more being catnip toys and a pretty comfortable cat bed, if I do say so myself,” Dean replied, stepping inside so that she could close the door behind him. The temperature had definitely dropped in the last few hours, but she’d already checked the weather. They weren’t supposed to have an accumulation of snow for at least a week. “Where is that mild-mannered mountain lion?”
“My new guard cat has excellent hearing, because he let me know that someone was walking up to the door a full thirty seconds before you rang the doorbell.” Kenna relieved him of one of the bags, though he set the box on the floor and put the heavier bag on top of it so that he could remove his coat and scarf. A part of her was nervous about what came next, so she led the way into the kitchen. “He started to pace about an hour after you left. I felt so horrible that I opened the front door. It was almost as if he were making sure he could leave. Once he was able to sniff the cold air, he went right back to kneading the blanket on the couch.”
“There’s something to be said for having a choice in the matter.” Dean followed behind her with the additional items, first tackling a large box with a picture of a satisfied looking cat on the front. “I figured I’d better spring for the automatic litterbox. I also got the clumping litter, which there was quite an assortment to choose from.”
It struck Kenna as odd that they were having a conversation like any other couple, yet they’d only known each other for two days. She focused on the items in the bag that she’d set on the stool, pulling out a cute-looking toy with two feathers sticking out in bright colors. There was also cans of wet cat food and a small bag of dry, letting her know that Dean had covered his bases.
“Hey,” Dean said softly, catching her by surprise. She turned right into his arms, most likely that being his intention and thus the end result. She rested her hands on his chest, not used to being this physically close to someone in a long while. “It’s not too late to change our minds. I’m sure you’ve already guessed that I don’t like to mix business with pleasure, and this definitely crosses that line by a mile.”
“You can’t get in trouble, can you?” Kenna asked with a frown, uncomfortable with the fact that she would be responsible for damaging his career. “I technically have no ties with your investigation, Dean. I might fit some abstract profile drawn up by one of your colleagues, but there has been nothing to indicate that The Widow Taker would come after me.”
“I hate that moniker,” Dean said with a sigh, slowly rubbing her upper arms. She was wearing a cowl neck burgundy sweater, but she could still feel the heat of his hands through the thick material. “Regardless, Kenna, I’m attracted to you. It’s that simple. I’m in awe of your strength, beauty, determination, and courage at surviving what life has thrown you. There’s something about you that makes me want to know you better, not just what’s on the surface. The timing couldn’t be worse, but—”
Kenna brushed her thumb across his bottom lip. It had been so long since she’d touched a man in this way, and there was no residual guilt. Justin wouldn’t have wanted the overwhelming grief of his death to rob her of a future. She’d taken the time she’d needed to heal from her wounds, though. She’d grown as a person, and she’d even become stronger for it. It was time to take that step forward, and she would very much like it to be with the man standing in front of her.
“I think the timing is perfect,” Kenna whispered. She traced the muscle alongside Dean’s jawline that shifted visibly, though not in frustration. She was pretty sure that he was keeping himself in check. She wasn’t spun of glass, though. “Dean, we’re both adults. I don’t know what happens after you solve this case, and neither do you. What I do know is that I’d like to get to know you better while you’re here and available.”
“That can be arranged,” Dean replied, his heated gaze dropping to her lips. “We should—”
Meow.
She let out a light laugh, a bit grateful for Spartacus’ interruption. Her stomach had knotted with a mixture of arousal and doubt upon taking this to the obvious endpoint. Sex hadn’t been on her mind for a very long time, and now the only thing she was envisioning was him lying naked on her bed.
“I think someone wants his bathroom set up.”
Kenna looked over her shoulder to find that Spartacus had finally decided to make an entrance. She was really surprised that he’d decided to stay, but she’d really liked his company more than she would have thought. It didn’t take long for them get everything open, read the first page of the directional pamphlet regarding the automatic litter box, and have an area in her laundry room designated for her new roommate.
An hour later, they’d successfully given Spartacus a home he could call his own. Dean had even had a chance to eat a bowl of her chili while returning a few a phone calls and messages before heading upstairs to take a shower. She’d overheard him say at one point that the serial killer had contacted Quinn Simmons, but she managed to bite her tongue when it came to asking any further questions about the investigation. She was sure that was the last thing he wanted to discuss with her tonight. Truthfully, it wasn’t a topic that she wanted to focus on, either.
Kenna maintained her nightly routine, starting with checking the garage. It had become habit after Justin had died to make sure all entry points in the house were locked up tight. The fact that a serial killer was somewhere out there preying on widows had her sticking to her nocturnal habit.
There was something very soothing about hearing the water running upstairs. It was just as comforting to have Spartacus follow her around the house as if he too had a job to do. If he had been at Meghan Vance’s residence the night she was murdered, she could only imagine the terror he’d experienced at not being able to do a thing to help her. In a sense, he was lucky to still be alive given all she’d heard about this particular serial killer.
“Don’t go getting my hopes up that you’ll stay and be my best friend only to decide you’d rather roam the neighborhood looking for girl kitties. Retirement sounds good, doesn’t it?” Kenna asked, having already checked the sliding glass patio door that led to a paved deck. She made her way through the living room, turning off the fireplace and switching the lamp off. The light in the foyer was still on, so she had no trouble seeing as she made her way to the front door. “Breakfast, dinner, treats, and even a cozy bed to snooze away the days and nights after experiencing such an eventful life is a well-deserved treat.”
Kenna could already see that the deadbolt on the door was secure, but she still gave the gold knob a bit of pressure to reassure herself that it was all the way home. Her nightly peek through the curtain told her that the McGees had finally turned on the electric candles in each of their windows. It was an annual tradition of theirs.
Something caught her eye before she let the curtain fall back into place. She squinted through the darkness, which wasn’t easy through the golden illumination of the po
rch light. At first, she thought it was Bob walking his dogs. There seemed to be a silhouette of some sort near the street. She shifted her focus around the area, hoping an alteration of her vision would give her a better perspective. After ten or fifteen seconds, she finally saw a dome light come on in a vehicle that was partially hidden behind what was left of her maple tree. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a deputy getting into his patrol car. Dean had mentioned that they were going to be in the area more often, and she was grateful for their presence.
Kenna looked down at Spartacus, but he was no longer near her left ankle. She double-checked her theory that he’d put himself to bed, and sure enough he was already curled up on the soft pillow top she’d set near the fireplace.
“Goodnight, Spartacus.”
Kenna retraced her steps, only to find herself pausing at the bottom of the staircase. She’d done everything imaginable to not think about what awaited her upstairs. Dean had sensed her apprehension earlier, even giving her an out if she’d wanted to take it. She didn’t need to take a step back. Her hesitation came from how long it had been since she’d been touched by a man and vice versa.
Three years. At least, the time span had been close to that many years. Sex wasn’t like riding a bike, but she was definitely out of practice. To gain a bit of composure, she inhaled with every other step and exhaled with every other step. Her yoga instructor would have been proud, though Kenna wondered if she’d triggered a bit of hyperventilation.
The stillness in the upstairs hallway was rather heavy, and she realized that in her internal debate the shower had been turned off. The door swung open before she had a chance to move past the guest bathroom. Dean stepped out, clearly not expecting her to be standing in the hallway.
“Is everything okay?” he asked with concern, looking over her shoulder to what she already knew to be a dark staircase.
If she hadn’t known that he was so dedicated to his career, she did so now as she saw his cell phone in his hand. The only other thing on his body was one of her white plush towels that barely hung around his waist. She’d known that he was lean and muscular, but she’d never imagined that he’d be cut like a professional athlete.
“Kenna?”
She stepped forward, throwing caution to the wind. It was in her nature to take things slow and calculate the risks, but this moment was going to be for her. They were both adults. If she’d learned anything in the last three years, it was that life could change in the blink of an eye. Sometimes a person didn’t even need to blink, and that was the most frightening thing of all. She needed to live for today.
Kenna lifted herself and pressed her lips to his, the woodsy scent of his bodywash just as intoxicating as the minty taste lingering on the end of his tongue. The smallest of water drops left on his chest absorbed into her sweater. She didn’t mind in the least.
Dean wrapped one arm around her waist and hoisted her up until she was able to wrap her legs around his hips. She could feel the towel barely hanging on. Again, she wouldn’t mind gravity doing a bit of the work. His lips never left hers as he walked them down the rest of the hallway and into her bedroom. She’d left the lamp on the nightstand turned on, so the room was cast in a soft goldish hue.
The moment he set her gently down on her feet, everything simply faded away. There was no room for worry about what might or might not happen come tomorrow morning. The only thing she found herself focusing on was the warmth of his fingers brushing against her skin as he lifted her sweater, not stopping until he’d brought the material over her head so that it could land softly on the floor.
The heat of Dean’s tongue against her neck caused another wave of desire to wash over, but it was nothing compared to when he used his hold on her hair to lean her back just enough so that he could reach the swell of her breasts. The hotness of his breath generated a round of goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cold temperature outside.
One after the other, the straps of her bra slid down her arms.
Neither one said a word when he steadied her and began to remove the rest of her clothing piece by piece. There was something very erotic about the way he watched every emotion play out on her face as he touched her in places that had long been forgotten. That particular word struck a chord, but it floated out of her mind when he laid her gently down on the bed.
Kenna wasn’t sure where his phone had gotten to, but she didn’t really care after he’d pulled one end of his towel and caused it to fall to the floor with the rest of her clothing. He truly was a magnificent specimen of the male form. She took what few seconds were afforded to her to admire his physique as he crawled onto the bed with her, managing to get both of them more comfortable in the middle of the mattress that hadn’t been used for such activities ever before. She’d purchased a new bed several months after Justin had died, unable to remain alone in the bed that they’d shared. Now her new bed was going to be a place for new beginnings…a start of a new life living as Justin would have wanted her to do.
His blue eyes lifted from hers to focus on the condom she’d placed on the nightstand. Her heart began to beat twice as fast, though it tripled when he slowly smiled in the most delicious and wicked way possible.
It was then that she identified the feeling that had plagued her recently. It was as if she’d forgotten that she was still alive. Well, no longer. She’d finally broken the last restraint from the grief of losing her past.
Chapter Eighteen
“Linc, it’s good to see you,” Dean replied while shaking his colleague’s hand. The station was buzzing with tension now that another agent had arrived in town. “It’s been a while. I hear they’re keeping you busy at Quantico.”
He set down his coffee on a manila folder marked with Oliver Stevens’ name. There was quite a lot of ground that Dean wanted to cover with Linc before Frank, Chaz, and the others showed up for their scheduled meeting before Quinn Simmons was due into the station. Linc had touched base by phone around twenty-two hundred hours last night, letting Dean know that he would be driving in from Virginia. His aversion to flying was well-known among those who’d attended the academy with him, but he’d managed to keep this minor weakness out of the limelight career-wise.
Lincoln Roche had quickly become known for his precision when it came to creating profiles of unsubs, especially of this type of variety. He’d even had a hand in catching one of the infamous serial killers who’d been targeting prominent families on the West Coast right after his graduation from the academy as a profiler, getting his name out there for the top brass to notice. He was quite humble, though. It was one of the things Dean liked most about him. He focused on the job instead of politics, never concerning himself about climbing the ranks.
Bottom line was that Linc had the ability to see through the eyes of the killer, thus creating a rough draft of their lives so that it was easier for those like Dean to limit their field of potential suspects and eventually track them down.
“No more than usual,” Linc replied, looking no worse for wear after a seven-hour drive. He’d always had the ability to pull long hours without being affected, and Dean had a feeling the man didn’t need more than five hours of sleep a night to function. “I arrived around thirty minutes ago, so I had time to read over Frank’s notes regarding Quinn Simmons. She’s going to be the key who unravels your unsub, so we’re going to need her help. I suggest we severely limit the threats of prosecution for hindering and making false statements.”
“Shit,” Dean muttered, shrugging out of his suit jacket to settle in. He doubted they would be leaving the station anytime soon. “I didn’t expect you to drive here in person only to tell me that we need to kiss the ass of some hyper-ambitious media darling. She’s been nothing but the bane of my existence since I had this case dropped in my lap.”
Dean had already silenced his phone for the upcoming meeting, but the faint vibrations alerted him to an incoming message. He reached into the interior pocket of his jacket before hangi
ng it on the back of the chair. Kenna had been sleeping soundly when he’d left this morning, but he’d written a note and left it on the pillow. She’d responded with a good morning text, wishing him a productive day.
They’d made love until the wee hours of the morning, all but collapsing in each other’s arms afterward. In between those workout sessions that had resulted in two very satisfied individuals, they’d talked randomly about their lives. The topics they’d touched upon were just the tip of the iceberg, and he hadn’t learned nearly enough to satisfy his curiosity. She was an enigma to him, so practical and solid one moment and then consequently daring and adventurous the next.
“Did I miss something?” Linc asked from behind the rim of his coffee cup, grabbing Dean’s attention away from his phone. “Last I heard, you were still the New Haven field office’s most eligible bachelor.”
“Don’t you start that shit with me, Roche,” Dean warned, knowing full well that Linc tended to profile the people around him when standing idle. It was annoying as hell, and he wasn’t about to delve into his personal life, especially in such an open forum. It was bad enough that Linc had the eerie ability to get a perfect read on just about anyone. “Erin doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She made up that shit when I had to engineer myself out of a situation with a lawyer from an old case.”
“That’s right,” Linc seemingly agreed with Dean before leaning back in his chair. “You don’t like mixing your personal life with your work. What’s so special about this McKenzie Burke that has you changing your personal Standard Operating Procedure?”
Dean gritted his teeth, knowing full well he shouldn’t be surprised that there were no secrets around Linc. Who knew what the deputies had divulged in the last thirty minutes? Given their circumstances, the man’s talent should bring this case swiftly to its knees.
The Forgotten Widow Page 17
