by Karin Tabke
Stevie wasn’t surprised that their search of Spoltori’s desk, file cabinets, and other areas of his office came up clean. He was careful that way. He wouldn’t leave anything incriminating out in the open. With full search authority granted in the warrant, she was sure they’d hit the mother lode when it came to his cell phone and computers.
As the last tech van drove off, Stevie and Jack stood silently on the sidewalk. It was pushing three in the morning. As taxed as they were, they were running on pure adrenaline at the moment.
Spoltori was within their grasp. They would beat the bushes until they flushed him out.
“Let’s go back to my place and regroup before we have to hit the streets,” Jack said, starting for his car.
Stevie nodded, wanting him to talk about his feelings, but not wanting to push. He had closed up so tight; he spoke only when giving a directive. During the search, everyone had skirted around him.
When Jack pulled up to the Alameda Marina she was confused. He grabbed her duffel from the backseat and started for the locked gate without her. He unlocked the gate, held it open for her, and when she passed through he closed it and locked it behind them. He strode down a long pier and she hurried to keep up.
The night was balmy; the crisp seawater smell, a low breeze tumbling along the pier, the tinkling sound of rigging, and the low swoosh of water splashing against hulls lulled her as they went farther down the pier. Leave it to Jack to live on a boat. Why didn’t she?
“I love the water.”
He didn’t respond, just kept up his pace.
They stopped at a sleek fifty-two-foot Cruiser. Stevie whistled. “Nice dinghy you got there.”
“It works,” Jack said, an edge to his voice.
She chuckled as she noticed the name of the vessel, Miranda. “For Miranda rights? Good one, Jack.”
He boarded and unlocked the door to the cockpit. He turned, extending his hand to her, and hauled her on deck. “Welcome aboard,” he said, his manner clipped, then proceeded below decks.
“I’ll put your bag in the forward stateroom,” he said, moving past her.
His words stung because she knew the captain’s stateroom was always aft. It would be the larger of the two staterooms.
“I don’t want to sleep alone,” she said.
“It’s for the best,” he said, not looking at her when he said it.
Stevie swallowed hard. He had been pulling away since they discovered Joan Schillner’s body. She understood that he was upset. So was she. But the blame game would only drive him insane. He was not derelict of duty in any way. Letting out a long breath, she decided to give him space. But before she offered, she wanted to understand the parameters of his needs.
“The best for you or the best for me?” she asked.
“For us both.”
“Speak for yourself, Jack. I’m here because I want to be with you.”
“Being with me right now would not be good for you.”
“Again, speak for yourself, and stop making decisions for me that involve me.”
“I don’t want to be with anyone right now,” he said, staring at a mark behind her.
Her heart tightened. “So now I’m anyone?”
“No, of course not, I just want some space.”
Damn his need for space! Moving in on him, she demanded, “How long do you want me to give you said space?” She knew she was sounding pathetic and desperate. And she was. Both. She wanted him, now, Tomorrow. Forever. But he was trying to push her out. Again.
“Permanently.”
Air whooshed from her lungs as if she had been kicked. “Why?” This wasn’t happening.
Still not looking at her, he answered, “It was a mistake, Stevie. I’m sorry.”
He grabbed a glass from the sidebar, opened a bottle of Jameson, and poured a generous portion. He tossed it back and poured another.
Stevie fought the rising hysteria in her heart and collected herself. This was a joke. It wasn’t happening. Jack wasn’t himself. They could work through this. Right?
“Drowning your sorrows will only make it worse, Jack. Take it from someone who knows.”
He glared at her and poured another glass. When he’d tossed that one down, he looked at her, pain shadowing his eyes. “It’s my fault she’s dead. I lost focus.”
“Really? How so?”
“I allowed my personal desires to keep me from what I should have been doing.”
“Which was what, Jack?”
“I should have been there to protect her!”
“You were there! How were you supposed to know Spoltori had a bead on her?”
“It’s my fucking job to know! Instead I was watching you jerk off!”
“It was my job to know, too, but damn it, neither one of us knew Spoltori was following her! How could we?” Shaking her head, Stevie set her hands on her hips and exhaled. “By my oath to protect the public, I let her down too, Jack. As much as I want to take it back, I can’t. Even though we decided to go in early, we still had time to kill. That we chose to kill that time the way we did is irrelevant. Had we stopped for a coffee and wasted some time chatting, the outcome would still be the same. I’m not going to allow a deranged killer’s acts to define me. Or us.”
“I should have been there. I chose you over protecting her.”
Stevie threw her head back and laughed. “Really, Jack? Is that how you’re going to play this out? Is that how you’re going to slide out of this relationship before it even gets off the ground?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growled, pouring another drink.
“I’m talking about us, damn it. You. Me. Together. You trying. Me trying. We’ve been going two hundred miles an hour since you bullied your way into my case. I pushed back, but you pushed harder. Fine, you got to me. I give and now you push me away?” She snatched the glass from his hand and slammed it down on the counter, then got in his face. “Is it too hot in here for you, Jack?”
“My coming back was a mistake.”
“You’re a coward.” She grabbed her duffel and hauled it over her shoulder. “Consider yourself relieved of me, Captain Jack!” she spat. She turned to walk away, praying he would call her out. But he didn’t.
“I’ll have Flynn pick you up and take you to a hotel until we get Spoltori,” he said quietly.
“Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, Jack. I’m going home. Tell your Neanderthal friends to stay the hell away from me and my property.”
She walked out, and never once looked over her shoulder.
Jack walked into the squad room the next morning feeling like hell. He hadn’t slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Joan Schillner’s accusing dead eyes.
Making the death notification was just as hard. Because of his fucking hard-on for Stevie, a woman was dead and her daughter was going to grow up without her mother. Yet riding hard on his guilt was his worry about Stevie. Every time he saw Joan’s dead eyes, he saw Stevie’s. The pain in his heart was unbearable. He would never survive losing her to a killer like Spoltori.
He’d called a few guys to keep an eye on her place from a distance. But even so, with Spoltori at large, he wasn’t comfortable knowing she was in that house alone and no matter how badass she thought she was, she was vulnerable.
Swiping his hand across his face, he texted her: Where are you?
She should have been in by now. He wanted to apologize for leading her on. It was wrong. He shouldn’t have. He wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. Hurting her was the last thing he’d wanted to do, and he’d done it in spades. He felt like shit.
“Thornton,” Captain Russo called to him from his office door, “my office.”
When Jack closed the door behind him, Russo scowled and sat down behind his desk. “What the fuck is going on? Why is Cavanaugh alone on that plane east?”
Jack’s jaw dropped. “She, we—” He stood. “I don’t know, sir, we had to push our flight back to tonight because we missed it last night due to the case.”
“Why wouldn’t she inform you? Why aren’t you on that plane with her?” Russo’s dark brows crowded together over his furious eyes. “I only agreed to this because you’re the best street cop I know, second only to Detective Cavanaugh. Somehow you fucked it up. Un-fuck it up and get Spoltori.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jack’s instinct was to jump on a plane and follow her. But he told himself she was safer out of the state than in it. He could work the case from this end with no distractions and she could work it from that end with none as well. Plus it would give her a chance to get over him, and he her. Because they were mature adults they could maintain a professional relationship, and despite their high-octane chemistry, they were still a crackerjack investigative team.
When she didn’t respond to his repeated texts that day or the next, he started to get angry. When he learned that she had been burning up the phone with Flynn, he came unglued.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Stevie had been gone four days and it felt like four years. He missed her. He wanted her. But he told himself he couldn’t have her. Angrily, Jack paced the HQ office. When he got his hands on Ryker, he was going to tear him apart.
“What’s your deal, Thorn?” Ryker asked as he entered the small room, soundly closing the door behind him.
Jack turned and kept himself from lunging at his turncoat friend. “Stay the fuck away from Stevie.”
Flynn shrugged off his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves, then turned and faced Jack. “You want to take this outside?”
“She’s off limits.”
“Only because you’re my friend who is about to fuck up his life am I going to say this, Thorn, and I’m only going to say it once: I won’t stay the fuck away from her. We’re working a case together. If you have a problem with that, it’s your damn problem.”
“She’s shutting me out.”
“Because you’re an asshole. You shut the door, live with it. As far as the case goes, she’s on it, and I’m on it.” He leveled Jack with an intent stare. “Maybe it’s time you recused yourself.”
Fury and jealousy tangled in his gut. He wasn’t about to step aside and let Ryker take his case or his…what? What was Stevie to him? He’d set her free, he had no claim. But the thought of any man, even his good friend, touching her, ripped him up inside. “Stay away from her.”
“If you’re saying that because you think I have a shot with her, forget it. You fucked her up for anyone else.”
“Son of a bitch!” Jack punched Ryker in the jaw.
Flynn fell back against the table and swiped the back of his hand across his bloody lip. “You’re losing it big-time, Thorn.”
Jack moved in, furious his friend had gone poaching. Stevie was on her own special pedestal. Untouchable. “I told you to stay away from her and you hit on her the minute my back was turned,” Jack accused. He knew he was being completely irrational. But the thought of Stevie with his friend was too much to stomach. Because he knew Flynn was a love-them-and-leave-them kind of guy—just like he was. Jack’s blood chilled in his veins. Stevie deserved more. Was Flynn willing to be that guy?
Fuck it all to hell. Jack wanted full rights to Stevie.
Flynn shook his head, wiping at his lip again. “Asshole, I didn’t hit on her. A blind man can see she’s hurting. That’s all on you, buddy, not me.” He faced Jack squarely. “Now if that isn’t good enough for you, let’s take this outside.”
Jack exhaled and jammed his fingers through his hair.
“You cut her loose, now live with the choice.” Flynn chafed, sitting down at the desk. “That means you have no say in her life, Jack. Zero.”
“I had to,” Jack choked out. He couldn’t bear losing her.
“You’re running scared.” Flynn pushed his chair back and looked up at Jack. “It’s unfortunate what happened to Joan Schillner. But you didn’t pull the trigger. You’re not responsible.”
“It’s more than that.”
“What more?”
“When I saw the victim’s dead eyes staring at me, it took me back to Melissa. I can’t do that again.”
“Mel wasn’t your fault.”
“Yeah, it was.”
“You told her to stay put until you arrived on scene. She ignored your order and got herself killed. Stevie isn’t inexperienced like Mel was. Yeah, she’s high-strung, but she’s also a badass and can take care of herself. You need to allow her that and stop wringing your hands and crying like a baby about something happening to her.”
“I was Melissa’s training officer. She was my responsibility. I should have been there.”
Flynn shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “Then beat yourself up over it for the rest of your life, Thorn, but let Stevie go. She deserves that much from you.” He turned back to the laptop and began inputting case notes. “I’ve been updating the case files and should have the file complete in a few hours. There’s a lot of new information you need to read through.”
Jack jammed his fingers through his hair again.
Over his shoulder, Ryker said, “She’s on her way in. Do us all a favor and take some time off until you settle down.”
“Yeah,” he said. Ryker was right. He needed to get out of the building and clear his head. He grabbed his jacket and as he shrugged it on he opened the door. When he looked up, he saw her standing at the end of hall.
His body jerked in reaction. Heat rushed through his veins. No matter how she was dressed, she always took his breath away and today was no different. She wasn’t wearing her normal work attire. Today she was dressed casually in a short white skirt that hugged her hips and a fitted blue tank that sculpted her full breasts. Her long tan legs went on forever until her pink polished toes peeked out from a pair of wedge sandals.
Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, not her usual braid. Had she just come from the airport?
She strode past him as if he were invisible. In her wake, her coconutty scent flirted with his nose. Blood roared to his dick. Fisting his hands, he set his jaw and stalked from the squad room.
“Cavanaugh?” he heard Captain Russo call from his office. “My office.”
Jack moved down the hall and took the stairs three at a time. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Stevie and give her space, but he knew if he stayed, he’d make a bad situation worse.
He needed to clear his head, sort it out. He’d take Miranda out for a run along the Farallones. A nice rough sea to take his mind off the churning inside of him was just what he needed.
Twenty minutes later he was standing in the galley, pouring himself a healthy dose of Jameson when he heard the determined footsteps on the pier coming straight for him. He knew without looking who it was. She probably shot the lock off the security gate to get in. Blood shot through his veins. And damn if he wasn’t getting hard.
“Jack Thornton, you son of a bitch!” Stevie yelled from the pier. The boat rocked slightly as she boarded. As she climbed down the steps into the galley, she came down swinging and punched him in the jaw.
Stunned, he stared at her. “That was for what you did to Ryker!” She cocked her arm and swung at him again, hitting him hard in the chest. “And that’s for lying to me, you cowardly bastard!”
She pulled her arm back again and when she went in for the third punch, he grabbed her fist in midswing. Spinning her around so that her back was against his chest, Jack wrapped his free arm around her arm and chest, staving off further attacks.
“Damn it, Stevie, stop!”
She stomped on his foot with her wedge sandal, loosening his hold, then elbowed him in the ribs. Grunting in pain he caught her harder against him. She was having none of it. She threw her head
back to head butt him. He ducked sideways, barely missed getting his nose broken. Then she back-kicked him, tipping them both off balance. Inertia threw them forward. To cushion her fall, he twisted, catching the carpeted edge of the stairs with the back of his upper arm, then rounded her out, pressing her chest-first against the treads. Now she was pinned between his body and the stairway.
“I said stop it,” he growled against her ear. Her scent tore mercilessly through his senses, provoking his lust. His nose pressed against her clean silky hair. Closing his eyes, he set his jaw. There was no fighting what she did to him. Red, hot, raw desire unleashed within him.
“I hate you, Jack Thornton! I hate you with every fiber of my being!” she screamed, fighting to break his grip on her.
He only tightened it. Her ass pushed back into his groin, igniting him.
“Stop it,” he roughly commanded, his lips brushing her ear.
Her body stilled instantly. He felt the rush of her breath from her lungs and the hardening of her nipples against his forearm.
Closing his eyes, he nuzzled her ear. His hands slid down her waist to the cradle of her hips. “You’re in my blood, baby.” His lips grazed her neck.
She arched, grabbing the top step.
He bunched her skirt in his fists, pulling it up, then slid his palms along her sultry skin. “I can’t live without touching you again.” His fingers slid between her panties and her warming flesh.
She moaned, and though her body was stiff and unengaging, she didn’t stop him.
“I need you. God help me, but I do.” His fingers slid along her smooth mound. “You need me, too, Stevie. I can smell it on you.”
She made a strangling sound as she shook her head.
Sliding a thick finger along her wet seam, Jack inhaled sharply. “Your body doesn’t lie, sweetheart.” He nudged a fingertip into her. “Tell me you want me, too.”
“No,” she breathed.
Parting her thighs with his knee, he nudged her up a step, and pressed deeper into her slick folds. He could feel the hard thud of her heart against his chest.
