Three minutes later, they were back in his car speeding away from the apartment complex.
“So, you drop the f-bomb and a few other choice words a lot when you’re under crisis,” she stated flatly a short while later.
“Huh? What?” He looked at her, dumbfounded. Water continued to drip off her hair and down her neck. The towel was loose … too loose. His jaw tightened a little and the tension started to drain. Then he laughed. “Do I?”
“You don’t know what you said?”
“Yeah, I guess I do get a little out of control. One of my many flaws. A guy’s gotta say whatever gets the point across. Sometimes nothing else fits.”
“I can think of a few words that might work.”
“Don’t bother trying to save me, Henry. That’s a lost cause. My mouth has been washed out with soap so many times, I should bleed bubbles.”
“Remind me never to make you mad.” Sophie looked out the window, her hand on the door latch as if ready to escape.
“You already have,” he admitted. Mad that she nearly became a statistic.
“Really?” she looked at him, bewildered. “Why?”
“Jesus, Henry.” He turned his eyes to hers as he used the familiar pet name he’d given her. He was shaking a little, which was totally out of character. “Get your hand off the damn door latch. If you try to get out while we’re moving this fast, you’ll end up in the hospital.” He paused. “You could have been killed just now, and you were arguing with me. When something like that happens, you don’t think, you don’t talk, and you definitely don’t argue about what to do. You just move. You just fucking move as fast as you can.”
“That’s not really a fair thing to say. I just met you a couple of weeks ago. How am I supposed to know you’re not the bad guy? You know — some psycho? You bash in my door, wave a gun at me, and carry me out like a kidnap victim.”
She had a point. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel and raced the car around the corner. Better just to stop talking. He turned three or four more times, circling back on his route before entering the parking garage and stopping the car. There wasn’t anywhere else to take her right now, not without notice.
“Stay here,” he ordered. She started to open her mouth in protest but his finger flew up in her face. “Don’t!” was all he added before he pushed his long legs out of the car and stood, then walked to the back. He opened the trunk, pulled something out, and then came around to her side. The door was yanked open and a jacket thrust open between them, shielding the door. “All right. You can get out now, but hold that damn towel closed, will you?”
“What?” She looked down at the towel gaping open all the way to her hip bone. “Oh!” Grabbing it around her, she stepped out of the car into the jacket. Trev promptly wrapped the jacket around her and zipped the front of it all the way to her chin.
“That ought to work until we can get you inside.” He put his arm around her and started walking her toward the door to the elevator. His eyes darted around the garage and watched the street. Her hands were caught inside the jacket, holding the towel together as he bustled her forward. A couple stepped out of the elevator and looked at them curiously but didn’t say a word. Trev nodded at them, then pushed her into the elevator. He punched the button for his floor, swiping his access key. He was glad for the security in this building. No one could enter without an access card plus the key to their own apartment. This would help to make sure that even if someone was able to follow them to the garage, they couldn’t easily follow them up.
“Where are we?” Sophie’s voice was tired.
“My place.” He gave her a warning look that told her to keep her mouth shut. He wasn’t in the mood for any snide comments.
“Oh. Okay,” she uttered softly. Then the tears started flowing. Trev plopped her down on the couch, locked the door, set the alarm, and disappeared to the kitchen. He couldn’t deal with tears.
Chapter Ten
“Here, drink this.” Trev handed Sophie a glass of Scotch and soda, without the soda. He was amped and she was terrified. If he tried the traditional “hold ’em and hug ’em” way of comforting, he was liable to rip that towel right off her. He was more than a little scared of Sophie Henderson. She was understandably unnerved by their escape, but he needed information right now, not tears.
Sophie took a huge drink and immediately gasped and coughed. “That’s not water!”
“Oh. Guess I should have told you that.” He grinned apologetically. “Scotch — it’ll calm your nerves.”
“My nerves are just fine.” Sparks flew from her eyes and it occurred to him that maybe he should have put it in a plastic glass. She was so upset right now she might throw it at him. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
“I was going to ask you the same question.” He watched her, unsmiling. “Do you have any idea who that guy was? An old boyfriend maybe?”
Sophie handed the glass back to him with most of the liquid still in it.
He pushed it back at her. “Drink,” he ordered.
“And if I don’t want it?”
He shook his head in exasperation. “Just do it, okay? I’m not very good with the tears and stuff — it’ll help with the shock, so I’d appreciate it if you’d just humor me.” He leaned against the wall next to the front door, his hands behind his back, anchored heavily by his body. He felt the clothes he’d tucked in his belt loop for lack of a better place to put them and yanked them out.
He needed for her to be covered up so he could concentrate on asking questions. “You want to go put these on?”
He tossed them on the couch from across the room, not budging toward her. Sophie had downed the drink in three solid swallows. She twisted her face up as it went down her throat, likely burning all the way. Great, he thought, now she’s either going to puke or pass out before I can talk to her. That was probably a dumb idea. Should have poured a smaller glass.
She looked at the three small pieces of clothes and then at Trev. “Of everything in my room, this is all you could get?”
“What’s wrong with it? Underwear, shirt, and pants. What else do you need?” His voice gave away his frustration.
Sophie’s faced softened a little and he thought he noticed a look of amusement pass over her. She shrugged. “I guess you’ll find out, won’t you? Where do I change?” She stood up, her long legs stretching beautifully from underneath his jacket. The warmth of the Scotch was settling in apparently because she teetered slightly.
Trev motioned to a door off the kitchen. “Bathroom. Don’t plan on going anywhere else because I’ll be standing right here when you come out.”
“Got it, boss, but I’ll need you to release me from this straight jacket.” She smirked. He moved toward her, unzipped the jacket, and watched as she stepped into the bathroom. She exited a few minutes later, standing with one arm across her chest, clutching her upper arm. She had smoothed her hair back and twisted it together somehow. Her breasts were jammed into the T-shirt, bra-less, leaving nothing at all to imagine. Several inches of belly showed between the shirt and the pants that set low on her hips. Her waist curved perfectly between the two pieces of cloth and the darkness of her breasts protruded perkily from the tightly stretched cloth even though she tried to cover them.
“Holy shit!” Trev blurted without even thinking as he stared at her. He turned around. “Put the jacket back on!”
“Why? Don’t you like what you picked out?” Is she really toying with me? Must be the Scotch talking. He shook his head, afraid to speak, then cleared his throat.
“Are you shitting me? If I’d known the shirt didn’t fit, I wouldn’t have brought it. Let me get you something of mine. I’ll be right back.” His voice was scratchy.
“Nah.” She giggled. “This is fine.” She moved toward him, tripping on her own feet, blocking him from going to his bedroom. The Scotch had to be hitting her hard now. Her movements were really exaggerated.
“The hel
l it is!” He darted past her and picked up the jacket off the floor. When he turned back to wrap it around her, she was right in front of him, pressing against him. “Stop it, Soph,” he growled.
“Why? What’s wrong with it, Mr. Psycho, Gun-Waving, Cowboy Dude? After all, you picked it out, right? Underwear, shirt, and pants. What else do I need?”
Trev panicked. Okay, gotta get out of here. She’s sloshed and probably a little hyped from the commotion, too. “Come on, Henry, give me a break. How was I supposed to know the shirt would fit you like that? It was in your drawer.” His eyes pleaded with her to back off, his hand was against her waist, touching the heat of her flesh, pushing her back from him. “I’m really trying to hold it together here. Would you knock it off?”
“Why are you trying to ‘hold it together’? What’s the problem?”
That was just plain brutal, he thought, to look like that in those clothes and not be someone he could even make a play for.
“There wouldn’t be a problem under normal circumstances. You look fantastic. Really.” He grinned. “In a sexy, slutty sort of way.” His voice was strained and broke at the end. “I just wanted to try to keep this on a professional level since right now, I’m sort of working for you, but you’re killing me, Soph. I can’t look at that! Not if I’m going to keep my hands off.” If he got through this and maintained his restraint, he was going to deserve a medal.
“So, what did you call that last kiss? A business meeting? You’re a big talker but deep down, you’re not really the ‘player’ you make yourself out to be, are you?”
“Huh?” He used his free hand to drape the jacket around her. Once he had it over her shoulders, he used both hands to pull the bottom together and zip it back up around her. “There we go. Much better. I’m beginning to like this jacket.” He smiled with relief as he felt the circulation start to return to his face. “It works great as a restraining device.”
“Trevor?” Sophie looked up at him. Tears had formed in her eyes again.
“Yeah? Are you okay?”
“Why would someone break into my apartment?”
“Who knows?” He put his hands on the shoulder of the jacket, glad not to be touching her skin. “He was probably just a burglar and he wasn’t expecting you to come home.”
“But I did, and,” tears were beading up in her eyelids now, “he could have been a rapist or a murderer.”
“Hey, now.” He put his hand under her chin and tilted it so her eyes were looking into his. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. That was it for him. She was scared, really scared. All the rest was just an act. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her to him, stroking the curls out of her wet eyes. Her face was buried against his chest. “He ran out so it’s not likely he was going to hurt you. Besides, you’re fine now. Right? Just a little scared. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“I don’t understand all of this.” She was swaying a little. “I’m sorry, Trev.” The tears were coming now.
“Look, I know I said I don’t do well with tears, but it’s okay to cry a little. You just went through a pretty traumatic event. It’s allowed.” He was trying to lean down and look into her big wet eyes but she was just looking away. Then suddenly she lunged over and … dammit. She puked all over him.
“Ahhh.” He sighed. So much for just passing out. He should have never given her the Scotch. Or at least he should have just given her a little, but how was he supposed to know she would chug it down?
“I’m so sorry, Trevor. I didn’t mean to do that. Oh God, I’m sorry!” She clutched her mouth and wiped her chin with the sleeve of his jacket. Her face was pale and blotched, her mouth hung open in disbelief, completely humiliated. She looked down at the mess on his shoes and pant legs and her face scrunched up again. The tears came non-stop and she gasped and sputtered as they flowed freely. She tried to use the arm of his jacket to wipe his pants, but he grasped her arms and pulled her up. He held his breath to keep from reacting to the pungent odor.
“It’s okay, Henry. It’s okay. I shouldn’t have given you the Scotch.” God, she was adorable. Tears, puke, everything. She was a mess, and really upset that she’d gotten it all over him. She smelled horrendous now. He felt bad for her. She had been through hell tonight and all she was worried about was this.
Trev pulled the jacket back off her, not daring to look at the T-shirt underneath. He got a towel and wiped her face and hands, then carried her back to the bathroom in his bedroom. “Let’s get you into the shower,” he lowered her to the side of tub. He started the water running, tested it to make sure it wasn’t too hot, then switched it to the shower. “There you go,” he whispered, then started out of the room.
“Trev?” She looked at him, teary-eyed, and he felt his chest tighten.
“Yeah?”
“Can I change clothes?”
He looked at the puke-spattered pants and shirt. “Of course. I’ll find something for you, but it’s not going to fit.”
“Anything’s better than this,” she said. As he closed the door to the bathroom, she was already struggling to strip out of the pants and shirt. He wanted to help but that would be more than his self-control would endure right now. He found a shirt and shorts and set them by the door, then he retreated to the living room to clean up.
Thirty minutes later, he went to check on her and found her asleep on his bed wearing his clothes. One foot dangled over the edge of the bed, touching the floor. He smiled at the well-known attempt to stop the bed from spinning. So much for asking questions about the break-in. He hit the speed dial on his phone and got Nate. “Tell me you found him.”
“Nope, he was gone. You’re going to need to come back over here, though. It looks like he’s taken some things and I’m not sure what. We didn’t see anyone else, either. Looks like it might just be a burglar.”
“Okay. Not tonight man. She’s passed out and I doubt she’ll be awake enough to look at it till tomorrow. Can you put someone in there to watch it for now?”
“No problem. See you tomorrow.” Nate didn’t ask where she was and Trev was glad. They’d assume he put her up in a hotel — that would have been the logical thing to do. He wasn’t sure why he had chosen not to. Something about that other guy watching made him nervous.
Trev went into the guest room he used for an office. He surveyed the room, sparsely decorated with a few recognitions from past work, along with pictures of his family. Two pictures of him in his uniform as he graduated from the academy. One was with his parents, the other with the rest of his family. Another in his army gear with his prior unit. He took down the pictures and placed them in the appropriate files. He locked everything in the closet and looked around to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. He would have to explain himself tomorrow, most likely, but it was better not to get too detailed until they had the rest of the information back from Cheryl.
One last look in on Sophie and then he would grab a blanket and get a little sleep on the couch. She looked beautiful. Clean and content, sprawled across the bed with her hair tumbling everywhere on his pillow. He gently picked her up and slid her legs under the blankets, then pulled them up over her. He sat on the side of the bed for a couple minutes watching her.
Trev’s hand played with the edge of the blanket that was draped across her shoulders. He felt her mouth on his again, her tongue working against his, his legs weakening as he leaned against the doorjamb. Then he shook his head and brought himself back to the present. She sure looked nice in his shirt. He had to stop thinking this way. He let out a soft sigh and headed to the couch.
• • •
At six A.M., Sophie awoke to the smell of something cooking. She washed her face in his bathroom, then snooped through his drawers for toothpaste and maybe an extra toothbrush. She found the toothpaste in the same drawer as a hand revolver, but no toothbrush. She used her finger to brush her teeth as best as she could, then picked up the handgun and carried it to the kitchen.
; “How many of these do you have lying around?” She waved the holstered weapon at him as she entered the kitchen, stopping when he snatched it from her hand and placed it on the counter.
“There are a few, but I’ll move them if it makes you uncomfortable.” Trev had showered already and was wearing a pair of loose fitting scruffy tan shorts and a white undershirt. His short dark hair was wet and shiny, the facial hair still had a couple of water drops beaded up on it. He was barefoot and as he leaned against the kitchen counter, looking at her, she thought it strange that she was staring at his feet. How could a person’s feet be sexy? But they were.
“Here, have some coffee.” He stood and poured a cup for her. “Do you want anything in it?”
“What? Oh. No, that’s fine.” She took the cup. Her head was hurting pretty bad and she pressed a hand against her forehead. She watched his movements, searching for some indication that would explain who he really was.
“Take this, too.” Without looking at her, he handed her an aspirin he’d set out on the counter. She took it gladly and gulped it down with a sip of hot coffee.
“Thanks,” Sophie responded sheepishly. “I’m sorry about the mess.”
“No worries. It’s all cleaned up now. Your clothes are in the dryer and should be done pretty soon if you want to put them back on.” Did he really think she’d be able to get that outfit back on after it had gone through the dryer? Was he kidding?
“Yeah, right.” Sarcasm dripped from her mouth. “The last time I wore that shirt, before last night of course, was eight years ago.”
“Really?” Trev laughed. “Why do you still have it?”
Sophie looked down at her hands. “My mom bought it for me. I just felt like keeping it was a way of keeping her.”
“I guess that makes sense.” He felt bad for her, losing her mother left her with no one to really support her. That must have been awful. “Well, it still fits like a glove.” Trevor smiled again, taunting her. “Aren’t you glad you still have your girlish figure?”
Numbers Never Lie (Crimson Romance) Page 10
