Divorced, Desperate And Dating

by Christie Craig

  Sue walked out wearing jeans that were slung low on her hips and a pink sleeveless top short enough to offer a smidgen of bare skin around the belly button. While the neckline offered no cleavage, the fabric outlined the soft swells of flesh in detail. Detail that told him she wasn’t wearing a bra—or maybe it was one of those hardly-there bras.

  Just like that, heavy wanting made his jeans tight. The granola wrapper slipped from his fingers and floated to the floor.

  Stopping in front of him, she knelt.

  Damn! A woman should never kneel down in front of a half-aroused man. Put a pretty face within a foot of a man’s crotch, and a man’s mind will take the image and run with it. Jason’s mind was definitely running with it.

  She looked up, thankfully past his bulging zipper and into his eyes. She’d pulled her blonde hair back with one of those cloth bands, but several strands danced down her neck. Her mouth looked wet, as if she’d just put on lipstick.

  “You dropped this.” She stood.

  The erotic images faded, but he curled his hands into fists to keep from pulling her into his arms and kissing the pink color from her lips.

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  So was he. Ready to quit pretending that there wasn’t enough sexual tension between them to light up a city block. A big city block. Sue wanted him; that much he knew. But what the hell did “not settling” mean, anyway?

  “What?” she asked.

  Did she see the longing in his eyes, or had she noticed the bulge behind his fly? For four months his dick had hardly twitched, but it was making up for lost time now.

  “I didn’t say a word.” He got up, moved to the door, and then stopped. “Did you get the disk to print your book?”

  “Is that really necessary?” She grabbed her purse.

  “Why would it be a problem?”

  “It’s just a lot of trouble when I can tell you what happens. You don’t have to read it.”

  “First, I want to read it. Second, you might miss something.” Was he detecting some issue with him reading her book? “And third, it’s evidence, Sue.”

  She took off to the study. He followed. Standing in the doorway, he watched her fumble through a lower desk drawer. His gaze shifted to the soft sway of her breasts. The thin bra strap of her nothing bra—pink like her shirt—slipped off her bare shoulder.

  Knowing it could be dangerous to start thinking about her underwear, he shifted his focus to the computer. He recalled the image of the rat and…“What did the poinsettia plant have to do with the book?”

  Sue looked up, her eyes widened. “Oh my God!”

  “What?” he asked.

  “This freak is…he’s reading the files from my computer. He has to be.” She dropped into a chair and stared at the blank monitor.

  Jason stepped closer. “How do you know that?”

  “The poinsettia plant isn’t in that book. It’s in the book I’m working on now. No one has seen that book.” She bit down on her lip. “Almost no one.”

  “Who’s read it?” Jason’s gut tightened.

  Her eyes grew round. “My…critique group.”

  “The three people whose names you gave me earlier?” He mentally collected their names in his head and decided to get a background check on them as soon as he could.

  She nodded. “But seriously, I’ve known these people for years. Whoever is doing this must have broken into my files.” She looked back at her computer and fear filled her blue eyes.

  Her vulnerability brought Jason closer. He twisted her chair and knelt in front of her. He was pretty certain women didn’t have near the problem with kneeling men that men did with women. “Hey.” He put his hand on her knees. “We’re going to catch this guy.”

  “I just…If he’s gone to the trouble to break into my computer, then…he’s serious.”

  Jason thought cutting her phone line had rated the guy as serious, and the little die message earlier was also a big clue, but Sue didn’t need to hear that. Instead, he pressed his forehead against hers and kissed her again. It wasn’t the let’s-go-to-the-bedroom kind of kiss he longed to give her, just a touch of lips against lips. But like all the kisses they’d shared, it held an emotional punch. Or maybe it was a pull.

  A different kind of pull, too. His desire to protect her twisted in his chest alongside a knot of sexual want. Somewhere between those knots, fighting for space, was that ever-present voice from his childhood telling him that this wanting would lead to disappointment—the same voice that had kept him from calling.

  He ignored the warning.

  Ignored the nervous look she shot him when he drew back. Winking, he ran a finger down her cheek. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. Just believe that, okay?”

  She nodded and dropped the disk into her purse.

  He took her hands and pulled her upright, lowering his head to kiss her again. Just another taste. Because tasting her was addictive.

  “Don’t.” She pressed a finger over his lips.

  He caught her hand. “Your rules said no sex. They didn’t forbid kissing.” He pressed his mouth into her palm.

  She pulled her hand away, but not before he caught a flicker of desire in her eyes. “But—”

  “No altering the rules after they’ve been set.” He hurried her out, determined not to agree to a no-kiss rule. How else was he going to change her mind about having sex with him? And he damn well intended to change her mind.

  She stepped ahead of him. Her jeans fit her heart-shaped backside to perfection. Oh yeah, he fully intended to change her mind.

  Sue sipped her iced tea. She and Jason had finished dishing out food and affection to Lacy’s animals and were now at a small Mom and Pop restaurant a few miles from Jason’s apartment. She bit into her chicken sandwich and tried not to look at him. He’d changed clothes at Lacy’s and wore clean jeans and a dark blue, loose-fitting, button-down shirt.

  Don’t think about the shirt.

  Okay, it wasn’t the shirt but what was hidden beneath. She’d seen him raise his shirt to slip his gun in a shoulder holster. Not that the gun was the problem. It was his bare stomach, with a blond treasure trail whispering into his jeans.

  “Try this.” His voice brought her gaze up. He held his fork to her lips, a slice of steak on the end. “Come on. Try it.”

  Feeling awkward, she took the food into her mouth. The tender steak with melted Swiss cheese and spices had her taste buds singing. “Mmmm…”

  As he pulled the fork away, he nabbed another of her fries. Sue watched him dip the fry in her ketchup and pop it into his mouth. It wasn’t that she minded; it was just the ease with which he did it. She’d dated Paul for a month, and they hadn’t gotten to the your-food-is-my-food stage. That stage meant something; it meant a relationship was…comfortable.

  She hadn’t been in that stage with anyone since her ex-husband. Well, except for sharing her coffee with Hitchcock, and even that had come to an end.

  “So, how long before you sold the second book?” Jason continued with his questions about her writing career. Sue wanted to accuse him of just chatting to fill the silence, but he appeared genuinely interested.

  “A few months.” She watched him take another of her fries. Then he cut another piece of steak and offered it to her.

  “No. Thanks.” She watched him eat with gusto. Impeccable manners, but he enjoyed eating. A lot.

  “How many rejections did you get before you sold?”

  Sue swirled a fry in her ketchup. “Lots.” She eyed him. “You’re not a wanna be writer, are you?”

  “Me?” He laughed. “No. I’m more brawn than brains. It amazes me how you can just create plots and characters out of thin air. I’ll bet you were always a straight A student from first grade through college.”

  “Hardly. I graduated in the second quarter of my high school, and after I failed college algebra three times, I quit.”

  She’d quit to marry Collin, but she left that part out.

&n
bsp; Jason leaned back in his chair. “You don’t have a degree in journalism or English?”

  “No.” Sue forked a fry, wishing she’d never told him. Not having a degree wasn’t a sore spot, although she hated it when people acted as if a lack of a degree made her less of a writer.

  “Now I’m really impressed. You’re self-taught. So, were you writing stories as a child? Creating imaginary friends?”

  “Yeah.” Sue took a bite of her pickle and realized that Jason had managed to skirt around every personal question she’d asked him. How was she going to find his issues if he never told her anything? Maybe an inability to open up was one of his issues.

  She swallowed. “How about you?”

  “How about me, what?” He snatched another of her fries.

  “Did you always want to be a cop?”

  “Nah. I was more getting into trouble.”

  “You were a bad kid?” She watched him cut another piece of steak.

  “Really bad.” His grin was laced with sexual overtones.

  “I didn’t think they’d take you into the academy if you had a record.”

  “I said I was bad. I never said I got caught.”

  “Were you into drugs?” she asked.

  “No.” There was something adamant in his tone that said he didn’t like to be misjudged.

  “Stealing?” She didn’t want to misjudge him, but she was mining for the truth.

  “No.” His answer and expression grew slightly defensive.

  “Then how were you bad?” She fumbled with her napkin.

  “I just was.” He cut his eyes to her plate. “How’s your chicken sandwich?”

  “So, what made you want to be a cop?”

  He hesitated. “I met one. He made an impression on me. End of story.”

  Not quite the end. “Did he catch you doing something bad?”

  Jason’s expression darkened. “Some people would say that.”

  “What were you doing?” She leaned in.

  His pause heightened her curiosity.

  “Fighting.” Something that looked like pain filled his eyes.

  Then the emotion evaporated so fast she felt certain she’d imagined it. But it left an imprint on Sue’s mind. Sort of like that treasure trail.

  “Was anyone hurt?” Her tone went soft.

  He hesitated again. “Yeah, I beat the crap out of him.”

  Her breath caught. “Why?”

  He shifted, as if uncomfortable. “Because I was a bad kid.”

  He snagged another of her fries. “Make sure you save room for dessert.”

  She tried to imagine Jason beating someone up for no reason at all. She couldn’t. Not even in his youth.

  “You’re making all this up, aren’t you?” She speared a fry with her fork.

  “Making what up?”

  She leaned her elbows on the table. “I don’t believe that you were a bad kid. Or violent. Not without a cause.” Even wishing it were true so she’d have found her fault, she didn’t believe it was a possibility.

  His gaze met hers and held it. “A lot of people would have disagreed with you.”

  “Well, I’m not a lot of people.” Something about the way he looked at her gave her a glimpse of a younger Jason, a young boy who needed someone to believe in him. The emotion rooted in her chest. “Were your parents divorced?”

  “Here’s dessert.” The waitress set down a small plate with a brownie topped with ice cream and hot fudge sauce. Sauce that still bubbled and crackled as the ice cream melted.

  Jason appeared too happy at the waitress’s timing. “Thanks.” Pointing to the sundae, he looked at Sue. “I’d do time for this dessert.” The waitress cleaned away their dishes and left.

  The smell of warm chocolate moved into Sue’s awareness. She eyed the plate. Jason picked up a spoon, carved out a perfect bite, and ran the utensil across the bottom of the plate to collect extra hot fudge sauce. Before she knew what he was doing, he’d moved to her side of the booth and held the spoon to her lips.

  He scooted close. “This is heaven. They put whiskey in the sauce.”

  The spoon, chilled from the vanilla ice cream, slid cool against her lips. The warm brownie crumbled against her tongue—sweet, crusty yet soft. The coldness of melting ice cream and the heat of fudge brought a thousand taste buds to exquisite attention. Sue closed her eyes as she savored the hint of the whiskey warming her throat.

  When she opened her eyelids, she stared right into Jason’s blue gaze. He had gentle eyes, not the kind that would belong to anyone capable of violence.

  He moved closer. His face lowered. The tip of his nose brushed hers. She closed her eyes again, expecting to feel his lips against hers. Okay, maybe she even wanted it.

  Instead, she felt his tongue slide across her bottom lip. His tongue! His moist tongue, moving slowly.

  A kiss she might have accepted; okay, wanted. Hey, his eating her fries had put her in the mood, but a tongue was…too intimate. Way too intimate. Her heart started to race. Had he really licked her in public?

  She jerked back.

  “You had…still have…fudge, right here.” His mouth, soft and sexy, inched closer.

  She slammed a palm against his chest. “Well, that’s what napkins are for,” she seethed and grabbed the scrap of cloth and wiped her mouth. “See! It works.” She tossed the napkin at him and saw people at the next table snickering. Her face flushed. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Did what?” he asked, totally clueless.

  Clueless. The man was an idiot. Add that to his issue list.

  Leaning in, she whispered, “The last time I checked, Miss Manners frowns upon licking someone in public.”

  Humor lit his eyes. “But in private it’s okay, right?”

  Images of his tongue running other places had her heart doubling its speed. She snatched the spoon from his hand, and helped herself to another bite. Then another. Then another. Deprived of sex she might be, but blast it if she couldn’t have an orgasmic cocoa moment. And blast him if he thought she was going to stop asking questions because it made him uncomfortable.

  She needed to know his issues. Seriously needed to know, because the next time he came at her with his tongue, she wanted to look him right in the eye and tell him she had no desire to be licked by him in public or in private.

  And she really didn’t want to have to lie when she told him.

  It was eight when they left the restaurant. Dusk had turned the sky purple and the horizon a hazy gold. Jason gazed at Sue. “You’re quiet.”

  “First I talk too much, and now I’m too quiet.” She glanced out the car window as they pulled away. “You should really make up your mind about how you feel about me.”

  “I have.” Glancing in his rearview mirror, Jason saw something surprising.

  “Really? And what have you decided?”

  “I think you’re damn near perfect.” He pulled off the road into a grocery store parking lot and watched in the rearview mirror as a car followed.

  “You’re lying.”

  “I don’t lie.” His focus stayed on the mirror and the gold Saturn.

  The car’s windows were tinted, and with the low light he couldn’t get a look at the driver. He didn’t think they were being tailed, not really, but he recalled seeing a gold Saturn like this one behind them earlier. He slowed down and parked. And just to be safe, as the Saturn rolled past, Jason read and memorized the license number. Officer Tomas had said the car parked on Sue’s street last night had looked like a Chevy Cavalier. But a Saturn and Cavalier could be confused in the dark.

  Jason reached over Sue’s lap and pulled a pad and pencil from the glove compartment.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Nothing.” He scribbled down the license number before meeting her gaze. “I need something from the store.” No reason to alarm her when he wasn’t sure.

  She leaned over to read what he’d written. “Why don’t I just wait here?”
/>   “I’d rather you come in.” He glanced in the direction the Saturn had disappeared.

  “Why?” Her gaze shot out the window. “Was someone following us? Is that a license number?”

  Right then Sue’s cell phone started chiming.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The hint of fear in her eyes had emotion pulling at Jason’s gut. “Answer it,” he said.

  Sue pulled the cell out of her purse and checked the number. “It’s my mom. I’ll call her back.” She tucked the phone back in her purse and refocused on the pad in his hand. “Was someone following us?”

  “I’m not sure.” It was the truth, and not one he was proud of. He should have been watching more carefully, but he’d been too busy watching her and that pink bra strap that kept slipping off her shoulder. “I noticed a Saturn earlier, so I wanted to get the license number just as a precaution.” He leaned over her lap to put away the pad. While he was close, he considered kissing her again. But she seemed to expect it and bounced back in the seat.

  “I’m pretty sure my face is clean,” she snapped.

  He loved sparring with her. “Damn shame.” He grinned. “I hardly got to taste that dessert.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I asked if you wanted any.”

  “But I could tell you didn’t want to share.” In truth, he’d have arrested anyone who’d tried to take it away from her. She’d practically made love to the spoon, running her tongue around it, causing all sorts of erotic images to flash in his mind. Another woman could have done that and he’d swear she’d done it intentionally. But not Sue. She’d seemed to forget he was even there.

  He wondered if she became so lost in everything she enjoyed. He’d bet when she wrote she became totally submerged in her work. And when she made love, she’d probably be just as intense, focused on pleasure—giving and receiving it.

  His next thought, totally unexpected, slammed against his brain. Had Sue gotten intense with that doctor? A few days ago the idea of Sue sleeping with the foot doc had chewed at his gut, but right now the idea seemed to gnaw straight to his backbone.