From Winter's Ashes: Girl Next Door Crime Romance Series - Book Two

by Amy Leigh Simpson

  Sadie shook her head, crinkly blonde waves had sprung from her ponytail and were loose and wild against her pretty heart-shaped face. “Don’t make me pull out my tae kwon do moves on you, Joss. I’ll do it.” She narrowed her eyes, lips twitching against the tugging grin.

  Joselyn huffed and eventually extended the contraband. “Suit yourself. But if I had a gorgeous man asking me to go to … Where is he taking you again?”

  Sadie relaxed from her ninja pose and accepted the phone. She hugged it to her chest with an overly embellished dreamy sigh and fell back onto the cream slip-cover style couch. “The only clue Archer gave me is that I need to dress up. I wonder if the FBI has some kind of banquet or something.”

  Collapsing down on the couch beside her, Joselyn tapped her lips. “Hmm. Only one way to find out.”

  “But I won’t be able to enjoy myself if you’re alone.”

  “Please. I could use a little rest from this whole ordeal.”

  “Can I at least call and check in on you every hour?”

  “So much for getting some shut eye.”

  “Joss, that’s my best offer. It’s that or I call Finn, or Fish and Clausse to babysit.”

  “It’s Gill and Royce.” Joselyn let her giggle slip out.

  “Perfect! Gill and Royce it is.”

  “Hold the phone, short stuff. I will confiscate that thing again and give it a swirly before you so much as dial the area code.”

  Sadie snorted. “Okay, okay. But I will be checking in every hour, so you best keep your phone close by or I’ll have a SWAT team swarming this joint in a matter of minutes, capiche?”

  Joselyn knew Sadie was likely joking with that threat and was tempted to feign outrage to keep the banter rolling, but the dead-serious concern in her friend’s eyes froze her retort. How long had it been since someone had looked at her like that? Like they actually cared. Afraid the tremor settling in her throat would give her away she answered by crossing her heart with her index finger.

  “Good enough. Will you help me get ready? I don’t have the slightest idea what to wear.”

  “Hmm. Well, I know of this fabulous little boutique that’s sure to have what you’re looking for. And lucky for you, I so happen to know the owner.”

  Sadie grinned. “How fortuitous. But I’m sure I have something passable here.”

  “Oh no, my dear. Passable simply will not do. In the words of Coco Chanel, ‘Dress shabbily and they remember the dress; dress impeccably and they remember the woman.’ Let’s go make you even more unforgettable.”

  After scavenging Charisma—Joselyn’s boutique clothing store in Downtown Kirkwood—for a stunning vintage sea-green lace sheath dress for Sadie’s date and some everyday fare to tide Joselyn over for a few days, they returned to the condo all shopped out.

  Joss helped Sadie primp to perfection and then submitted to a long, searing shower. With no place to go, and every intention of giving Sadie and Archer plenty of time to greet each other privately, Joselyn dawdled under the steamy spray, scrubbing herself pink with a whipped sugar body polish and treating her slightly charred hair to the dated hot oil treatment she’d found tucked in Sadie’s hall closet.

  Passing what had to be at least a half an hour of sauna-worthy bliss, she threw on a slim cotton robe and twisted her long, raven-colored locks into a towel. The cool air from the hallway chilled the smog of moisture coating her skin as she crossed to her bedroom.

  But something stopped her short. She leaned against the door frame, listening again.

  And then she heard it. Were those … gun shots?

  There was some sort of commotion and then bang, bang! Louder this time. And so close a tremor pulsed through the walls.

  A scream trapped in her throat, and Joselyn lunged forward into her room, stumbling over her noncompliant size eights in an uncoordinated panic. She closed the door quietly in spite of the racket and twisted the flimsy lock. Stepping back shakily, she flattened herself against the wall. Think! Think!

  She needed to call for help, but her phone had been a casualty of the fire and the landline was in the kitchen. Joselyn bit down on her lip, straining to hear. Voices barked garbled messages she couldn’t begin to untangle in her frazzled state.

  Why were they yelling? How had they gotten inside? And what the heck were they shooting at?

  Oh no! What if they’d shown up before Sadie and Archer left?

  She touched a cold, quivering hand to her lips. Her fear was asphyxiating, every terrorizing scenario she could think of pummeled her from every side until she’d been bruised and beaten with the only sensible conclusion.

  Whoever burned down her house had come back to finish the job.

  Her weight sagged into the wall and the towel unfurled from her head, her wet hair now blotting through the lightweight fabric at her shoulders. The wall rattled with another barrage of gunfire. She shivered. For the second time in as many days the cold truth gripped her. This is it. I’m gonna die. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to breathe, tried to think past the consuming despair and helplessness.

  Sadie! If they had Sadie, Joselyn couldn’t cower in her room. She had to act.

  Fortified in her decision, she felt a strange sense of strength and resolve fold around her body like a shield. A sense of déjà vu tingled down her spine, though she couldn’t say why. She stepped back out into the hall, belatedly realizing she was about to confront armed intruders without a single defense.

  Halting in the shadowed hallway, Joselyn recalled seeing an old baseball bat propped inside the closet. Her fingers closed around the door handle, deftly cracking it enough to snake in her arm.

  Yahtzee.

  She gripped the wooden handle, wincing at the pull of her stitches, and raised the weapon to her shoulder. It was no match for a gun but somehow her confidence was overwhelming her common sense. Sadie. You’re doing this for Sadie.

  The voices hushed in conversation as she tiptoed closer. She could almost make out what they were saying. John. She definitely heard the name John.

  Almost there.

  A few more steps brought her to the shadowed opening of the living room. She’d decided to take her first peek when a figure rounded the corner and slammed into her.

  “Ahhh!” The sound of her scream punched through her illusion of confidence. The terror made her frantic, and she sent the seemingly weightless bat into attack mode.

  “Hey! Oww!” Strong fingers immobilized her wailing arm and the rest became a blur of struggling limbs and smothered grunts. In a scant moment of clarity she consciously brought her knee up hard and fast.

  The hand on her arm dropped away, and the man fell back into the light. Before Joselyn could initiate her escape she caught sight of her assailant. One she would recognize anywhere.

  “Finn?” Releasing the bat, she sank to the floor beside him. “Are you okay?”

  He’d gone fetal, hands cupping his groin, face scrunched in silent agony. With great hesitance she settled her hand on his side. He hissed out a breath and shrank back from her touch. “Umm, is there anything I can do?”

  “Haven’t you done enough?” he growled.

  Her spine whipped straight. “Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware you’d be prowling around the living room uninvited. What do you think you’re doing here anyway?”

  Wincing, he propped himself up to a seated position. “Geez, girl, you sure do know how to show a guy a good time.”

  It was obvious he was in pain. But after the start he’d given her she couldn’t muster a whole lot of remorse. It was his own fault, after all.

  At this point she wasn’t even upset with him, only grateful she was still alive to laugh about the misunderstanding. Though she suspected Finn wouldn’t appreciate her laughter at the moment. So instead she bit back a grin and offered him her hand.

  Though he was glaring up at her, she thought she saw a glimpse of a smile hiding somewhere in those much too pretty eyes. His hand was warm and rough-skinned, a compelling c
ontrast to her always chilled yet pampered fingers now completely swallowed up in his grip. When he was to his feet, she assumed he’d let go. But he held on, and some kind of magnetic trance planted her in place. A hot rush flowed through her, heating feverishly in her cheeks.

  Joselyn wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Time slowed and her brain turned to haggis. Finn’s body was so close she could feel the heat of him. And as always she was so very cold, and so very lonely, for a split second she considered closing the gap between them and filching a free embrace. Her fingers fidgeted in her moment of indecision, except the movement resembled more of a caress than a spasm and that flame in his eyes bumped up to scorching.

  His grip tightened, she shifted her weight forward, and—

  Sadie’s landline rang.

  Spell broken, Joselyn jerked her hand free of the ridiculously long handshake, turned tail, and sprinted to the kitchen. She bobbled the cordless phone twice before managing to finagle it to her ear.

  “He-Hello?” She cringed at her breathless tone.

  “Hey, Joss.” Sadie chirped. “I know I haven’t been gone an hour yet, but I wanted to check in. Finn showed up as we were leaving, and you were still in the shower. I assume you know that by now.” The tint of remorse in Sadie’s voice was overshadowed by her obvious excitement for her date.

  “Yeah. Great, thanks for the heads up.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I promise I didn’t call him to play babysitter. Archer did.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I won’t harass you with phone calls now that Finn’s there. But make sure he doesn’t crank up the new surround sound Archer installed too loud. It’s pretty intense, and since I finally have new neighbors I’d rather not rattle those flimsy walls and scare them off the first week.”

  “Pretty intense, is right.” Joselyn mumbled.

  “Oooo. Okay. I think we’re here. Play nice, now. Love you!”

  “You too. Have fun.” Joselyn disconnected the call and tried to shake off the nervous energy still making a mockery of her cool and confident façade. A handshake! If she could gather enough oxygen, she’d probably laugh. After a few deep breaths she returned to the scene of the crime.

  “Interesting choice of weapon, Joss. Did you really think you could brain me to death with this thing?” An amused Finn was in possession of his ever cocky grin and … an umbrella?

  “For real? I thought I grabbed a baseball bat.”

  He glanced up. “Oh Jesus, you are a merciful Lord. But you, little missy, need to explain why you tried to beat me with a baseball bat.” Something shifted in his stare. Amusement drained away leaving nothing to read but a suddenly averted gaze and pronounced chug of his Adam’s apple.

  “I heard gun shots. And then I heard some yelling and talking. I thought—” More gunfire drew her attention to the TV. She dropped her chin to her chest and exhaled a humorless laugh. “Die Hard. That explains it.”

  “That’s all you have to say?”

  “Well,” she shrugged in defense, “I must be a bit on edge, what, with the attempted murder and all.”

  “You could have destroyed future generations of little Carsons. I think I’m gonna have to hear an actual apology.” He crossed his well-muscled arms over his chest, making her take note of the man that had taken shape from the boy she’d known in high school. Remembering that one and only time those arms had held her. And then ruined her.

  Thank goodness Sadie called when she did.

  “Not a chance. You were not supposed to be here. I was simply defending myself against an intruder. So, if you wish to procreate in the future you should be sure to give a girl a heads up. A simple holler down the hall would have saved little peanut the trauma.” She lifted her chin and held his stubborn gaze.

  “Tell me something. Is it your curiosity that’s driving this slander?” He raised a devilish eyebrow.

  Heat strangled her neck. “No!”

  “You’re trying to invent a flaw because you can’t find one?” He took a step closer.

  She felt her ears warm beneath the cool drape of her hair. “Pfff! As if—”

  “Good. Because as much as I’d like to set the record straight, I am not putting out on the first date.” He smirked, laugh lines forming at the corners of his eyes.

  It all felt a lot like flirting. But it couldn’t be. Not with their track record.

  “But for Pete’s sake, could you put some clothes on? I may not be able to stand your particular breed of snooty princess, but a man can only take so much of you parading that hot little body around. It’s starting to mess with my head.” He averted his eyes again, and Joselyn felt the blood drain from her face.

  And then she looked down. Oh bloody hell. The ultra-lightweight jersey knit of the short robe was plastered like cellophane to her damp skin. There was no mooning this time, but the scuffle had loosened the tie at her waist making each lapel of white fabric meet to create a plunging neckline worthy of a Hollywood starlet. Joselyn stared at the rather graphic display of her modest curves, mouth gaping and mortified for a beat too long before self-preservation kicked in gear and had her running for her room.

  “How does that keep happening? And with him, of all people!” She fell back onto the bed, not sure she could ever show her face to him again.

  “I can hear you, you know?”

  As his voice bounded down the hall, she winced, pressed a pillow over her head, and considered hiding under the covers for the remainder of the evening. It only took a second to decide that that tactic would only fuel his antagonism, so she threw on a pair of black yoga pants and a time-softened white and green baseball tee, courtesy of Sadie. After tossing her straight damp hair with her fingers, Joselyn closed her eyes, absorbing every ounce of composure she could muster, before making her way back out to Finn.

  The nerves she’d fought to wrangle came flooding back through her stomach the moment his eyes touched her. She was completely covered from neck to toe, but his gaze seemed to strip away every ounce of confidence, leaving her feeling naked all over again. “Umm, so, you never did mention why you came over.”

  “Well … Archer has had this thing planned for a while, and I wanted to make sure it still went off without a hitch. I figured Sadie would pull out because of what happened. That’s why I held off telling her about you being in the hospital.”

  “I see. Well, she tried to stay. I wouldn’t let her.” She found herself incessantly tugging at the bottom of the shirt.

  Finn smirked knowingly like the arrogant jerk he was. “Maybe we should sit. Gonna be a long night if we don’t.”

  “Gonna be a long night either way,” she mumbled.

  He coughed up a laugh as he settled next to her on the couch.

  Joselyn leaned back into the soft canvas cushions, gathering her knees to her chest to put a barrier between them. “Give a girl some space, would you? And maybe tone it down a bit on the aftershave, Romeo. Stuff’s kind of nauseating.” In reality, his warmth and nearness were both more potent than the fresh spicy scent currently hot-wiring her salivary glands. And it was only nauseating because she wanted to purge herself of her body’s absurd responses to a man who was, for all intents and purposes, her nemesis.

  Said nemesis smiled, revealing heartbreaking dimples in each cheek. She’d forgotten about those.

  Why does it feel like he’s in my head?

  “You’re gonna fall so hard.” It seemed he found his own vanity amusing.

  “Oh, for—now I really am gonna be sick.”

  “Ha! Settle down, Snow Whyte, I was only teasing. But—”

  “Don’t call me that!” She snapped.

  He held up his hands in surrender. “I was going to say we need to work on looking more comfortable together. As it is now, even our body language says we’re both contemplating strangling each other. Pasting a phony smile over it won’t fool anybody. Least of all, the media. Who, we all know, have an unhealthy fascination with you, for some unknown reason.”


  They weren’t touching, but the inch between his muscular thigh and her frozen toes wasn’t enough to slow her pulse. But as his words sunk in, it all clicked back into place.

  “Ahh, he got to you. Didn’t he?”

  “What do you mean?” Finn stretched his arm on the back on the couch behind her head, sweeping her hair off where his hand came to rest on the cushion.

  Brain cells scattered then quickly reassembled. “Declan Whyte’s noble plan of action. He reeled you in. You’re a goner. I can see it in your eyes.”

  Eyes that strayed in denial. “No. I simply listened to what he had to say. He seems concerned about you, and he has the experience to know how to handle this. To keep you safe.”

  “You realize you sounded exactly like him right then. Did he coach you? Give you cue cards? Talk about falling. Wow.” She let her dismay leak out in a slow, patronizing shake of her head. “I was gonna give you more credit than that. But oh how the mighty have fallen.”

  “Whatever. The way I see it, I’m doing you a favor.” He let that settle for a moment, then his eyes narrowed. “You’re going to have to stop it with those sour faces. From this point on I’m your dreamboat. The wind beneath your wings. And don’t forget, your ‘knight in shining turnouts.’ For our first exercise in civility, you may spend the remainder of the evening gazing at me adoringly, for practice. Don’t worry, it’ll come naturally soon enough.” He winked.

  Joselyn indelicately snorted her disgust. That strangling idea sounded better by the minute.

  “It’s either that or we snuggle and watch the rest of the Die Hard marathon?” He leaned in closer and wagged his eyebrows.

  “And what’s behind door number three?” She fired back. “The other options seem like cruel and unusual punishment for a traumatized woman.”