“What?”
“I didn’t change my clothes.”
“It’s the middle of the night. You’re fine.”
“Oh God!” she gasped.
He flinched. “What?”
“What if…what if that freak goes back? The cats are all alone, and—”
“There’s a patrol car scheduled to be driving by every few minutes. Plus, the guy’s not going to go back to night. He knows the cops will be around.”
She relaxed a bit. Jason’s words rang true. She trusted him with her life.
Those words flittered through Sue’s dazed mind, reminding her: Jason had probably just saved her life. She curled her arms around herself, feeling chilled to the bone.
Her gaze shifted. They were currently standing before an old Victorian with a wraparound porch. The sign in front read: Victorian Inn. It was one of the top B&Bs in the area. Sue had read about it in the paper, and now she remembered the name was on Jason’s list of favorite websites.
He opened the door. Moving to the front reception area, he grabbed a key, wrote a note, and left it on the old Victorian desk. “Come on.” He took Sue’s hand.
She followed him up the stairs and waited while he unlocked another door. Inside, he turned on the lights.
“It’s lovely.” In spite of her panic, she actually appreciated her surroundings. The room had an antique four-poster. The full-size bed, covered in a down comforter and beautiful quilts, bracketed the back wall. The room’s decorations were in line with Victorian style but not overdone.
“The bed and breakfast is Maggie’s passion.” Jason shut the door. “Our bathroom’s in here.”
Sue peeked into the large bath, decorated to fit the Victorian theme, but in addition to the claw-foot tub that sat in one corner, a two-man Jacuzzi waited in the opposite.
A moment later, she stopped thinking about decoration and wrapped her arms around her middle. Someone had tried to kill her. Actually tried to kill her. Actually taken a shot at her. They weren’t just throwing rocks and rats anymore.
“Would you like me to run you a bath? It might relax you,” Jason suggested.
“No.” Sue turned to the bed, suddenly unsure of the sleeping arrangements. Okay, she’d agreed to have sex with him in a moment of weakness, but—
“All I want to do is hold you to night,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. He pulled her against him. “You believe me, don’t you?”
She nodded, and he moved her to the bed and pulled back the covers. Still dressed in her pajamas, she kicked off her sandals and climbed into lavender-scented sheets.
She watched Jason pull off his shoes and remove his shirt and gun harness. He laid the gun on the bedside table and unzipped his jeans. Sue thought about turning her head, but the casual manner in which he undressed made it comfortable to watch. When he was wearing only boxers, he sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled one foot up into his lap.
Sue suddenly remembered he’d been cut. “It’s not bleeding, is it?”
“Nah, it’s fine. Barely a scratch.” He lay back and pulled her close. “You okay?” He pressed his lips to her cheek.
“Yeah.” She pillowed her head on his chest.
“Ready for lights out?”
“Please.”
The rich darkness brought a sense of belonging, and the tension slowly leaked out of her as she soaked up his warmth, his strength. She trusted him.
“This feels…good,” he said. His words echoed her sentiment.
She listened to his heartbeat for a while. “Thank you,” she finally said.
“You don’t have to thank me. Go to sleep.” He kissed the top of her head. It was a sweet kind of kiss that hinted at a lot of emotion but nothing sexual. Her heart twinged at the possibility that Jason Dodd really cared about her.
But did that make him safe?
The Thursday morning sun sneaked into the corners of her eyelids, and the scent of coffee teased her nose. Sue wiggled her fingers against the mattress and realized…she wasn’t touching the mattress.
Instantly coming awake, she remembered where she was and upon whom she was sleeping. Her head lay pillowed on his chest, his hand still rested on her hip. Their positions hadn’t changed from last night. Except, she now had her leg thrown over the top of his.
She shifted. Okay, his thigh wasn’t the only thing her leg rested on. There was also his…pencil.
She started to move her leg and stopped. Oh goodness, but he had an amazing pencil. Inching her leg up, feeling it with the side of her knee, she recognized again how it was a nice, extra-large pencil. Perfect for…
She bit down on her lip and recalled him pointing out that she was allowing her fear to stop her from experiencing something wonderful. She had to admit, this felt pretty wonderful.
Life doesn’t come with guarantees. We take risks. His words played in her head. And she did want guarantees, but was that realistic? Things happened. People died of colds, men realized they had lesbian women trapped inside their bodies…Maybe she just needed to take a leap of faith. But could she do that?
She moved her leg up his thigh one more time.
“Do that again and we’re going to have a mess on our hands.”
An unexpected giggle slipped from her lips.
“You think it’s funny?” Jason flipped her over, finding his place on top of her. His pencil, lead up, found its natural spot between her legs. They both froze, their gazes joined. Only two pieces of cotton separated them from being one.
As he lowered his lips, she slapped a hand over her mouth. “Morning breath,” she mumbled through her palm.
He nuzzled her neck and rolled off her. “You’re killing me.”
Standing, she started toward the bathroom. She saw him slip on his jeans and heard him ask, “You want some coffee?”
“Love some.” She paused. “Can I take a bath?”
He nodded. “Go for it. I’ll get you coffee and make sure Maggie found my note.”
Not long after he left, Sue sank into the claw-foot tub with lots of tickling bubbles. She had just rested her head back when the door creaked open and Jason returned—and walked right into the bathroom.
“Coffee,” he announced.
Sue curled up in a ball. “Jason!”
“What?” He set the mug on a small table beside the tub.
“I’m naked. Do you mind?” She fluffed the bubbles over her body.
“I don’t mind at all,” he replied, giving her a wolfish grin. “Need your back washed?”
“No.”
“Your front?”
She pulled her knees closer to her chest.
His grin widened. “It’s a big tub. Want some company?” As he asked, his baritone voice dropped an octave.
She hesitated, so very tempted to say yes, but…“Isn’t your mom downstairs?”
“Would you hate me if I lied and said she wasn’t?”
“You should probably visit with her.”
“Killjoy.” He leaned over and kissed her. “When you’re ready, follow your nose to the kitchen. Maggie can’t wait to meet you.”
After she finished soaking, Sue dressed in the jeans and T-shirt that Jason had packed for her and made her way downstairs, finger-combing her damp hair. Reaching the front of the house, she couldn’t help but wonder how many women Jason had brought here. Don’t think about that. Instead, sniffing the air, she did what Jason had suggested and followed her nose. The scent of yeast rising, cinnamon buns, and sizzling bacon led her to the kitchen.
A small, gray-haired woman, pleasantly plump and wearing a white apron over a pale green dress, stood over the stove flipping the bacon. She must have heard Sue’s footsteps, because her face widened in a smile.
“You must be Sue.” She dropped her fork and, rushing over, drew Sue into a hardy hug.
Sue hugged the woman back. “And you must be Maggie.”
“I’ve heard so much about you,” Jason’s foster mother said. “I feel as if I already
know you.”
“You’ve…heard about me?”
“For almost a year. Jason and I share books, and when he told me he actually knew a writer…well, I drove him a little crazy with questions. Anyway, he kept me updated on all your books, told me when you were on that cooking show. I used your recipes. Love the pasta salad! And he bought me a copy of all your books and an extra copy for our guest library.” Maggie’s aged hands moved as she talked. “He used to bring me over those newsletters, but he stopped. He promised to get my books autographed. But now…”
Sue wasn’t sure what surprised her more, that Maggie spoke faster than she herself did, or that Jason had been talking about her for over a year. “I’d be happy to sign them.” Nervous, she looked around the bright, yellow kitchen. “And your home is lovely.”
“Thank you! Sit down and let me pour you another cup of coffee. Cream, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sue stepped closer to the counter. “But let me serve myself and…what can I do to help you?”
Sudden fear hit her. What was she doing? She prayed Maggie wouldn’t ask her to whip up an omelet. She could probably make toast. Of course, there was a fifty-fifty chance she’d burn it.
“You just relax,” Maggie said, frowning. “Jason told me about last night. I’m so glad he brought you here.” She pulled out a chair and motioned for Sue to sit.
Sue sank into the seat, feeling increasingly nervous but unable to pinpoint exactly why.
“I do hope my son has behaved.” Maggie placed a different mug of coffee on the table. “I had a little talk with him after…after I called the other night.”
Oh yeah. That was why. Sue felt her face heat as she remembered the things she’d said to Maggie on the phone.
“Oh, he’s been very good. I mean, nice.” She stared at the steam billowing off the antique cup. Maggie had to know that she and Jason had shared the same room. Did she think—
“I see you two have finally met.” Jason stood in the door. His sandy blond hair looked a little mussed.
Maggie walked over and kissed her son’s cheek. “Did you change that lightbulb?”
“Took care of it,” he answered.
“Don’t know what I’d do without him.” Maggie gave Sue a smile.
Jason glanced at Sue, too. Their eyes met, and a warm glow filled her chest where her heart would have been if it hadn’t taken flight somewhere a moment earlier. Then came an inner voice whispering through her head, I love this man.
Which was followed by, No, I can’t be in love with him. It’s just aftershocks from him saving my life.
She tried really hard to believe the latter, but she couldn’t. Jiminy Cricket, no matter how much she’d fought him, no matter how much she’d tried to put him off, she’d allowed him into her heart, warts and all. It was true. She loved him.
Oh, Hades. She was up to her ears in it now!
If she hadn’t already admitted to falling in love with Jason that morning, Sue would have had to admit it later Thursday afternoon. Standing in the middle of the park, she watched him work with a team of ten-year-old foster boys on their soccer skills.
The last few hours had left her amazed at the layers of wonderful she’d found in the man. First, the teasing yet affectionate way he treated Maggie, and now, how he worked with these young boys. On top of all that, he looked so sexy in those shorts that Sue knew she’d be joining the fornicating masses before the night was over.
Jason winked at her. Sue felt as if she were on cloud nine and still climbing.
But for how long? a voice whispered. How long before she was stamped “day-old bread” and Jason tossed her out for a hot roll? Her heart dropped into her stomach as the question prowled around her head looking for an answer.
“Hi, are you Mr. Jason’s girlfriend?” a young voice asked.
Sue looked down at a dark-skinned girl wearing ribbons and pigtails and guessed her to be around seven. “Sort of.” She leaned close. “Are you his other girlfriend?”
The girl laughed. “I’m Cara. That’s my foster brother in the red shirt. I come to cheer. I’m a cheerleader at school.”
“You are?” Sue said. “I used to be a cheerleader, too.”
“Do you want to cheer with me?” The child’s eyes danced with hope.
“Sure,” Sue said. “I might be rusty but I’ll try.”
For the next twenty minutes, Sue and Cara cheered the boys on. Jason looked up often and smiled, and when practice wound down, Sue made her way over to where he could wrap his arms around her waist and kiss her.
“Do you do practice every week?” she asked.
“Every other week. Since it’s volunteering and looks good for HPD, they usually let me off a few minutes early so I can make it. Then on every other Saturdays.”
“You are a good man, Jason Dodd,” she remarked.
He seemed to soak up the compliment. “Why is that?”
Volunteering to coach. But something warned her he didn’t want to be praised for that. “Must be those shorts,” she said instead.
“So, you’re checking me out?” His smile turned devilish.
Sue reached up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I’m going to grab a soda.” She pointed to the concession stand. “You want one?”
“Yeah.” His phone rang, and he answered it, and Sue took off.
“I want it working as soon as possible,” Jason said, his eyes on Sue as she went to get the sodas. His cheek still burned where she’d kissed him. Crazy as it was, he remembered her kissing her grandfather on his cheek, remembered wishing for the same kind of affection from her. Something akin to pure joy filled his lungs.
“Yeah, and I’m trying,” the electrician said.
Jason had left his key to Sue’s door with Maggie, and the bed and breakfast’s handyman and electrician were supposed to get together to get her windows fixed and security cameras and light sensors connected. There was no damn way Jason was letting that freak get close to Sue again.
“Get it done to night and you can add another hundred to the bill,” he promised.
“It’s not the money,” the electrician said.
“Just do it.” Jason hung up.
Reaching down, he dropped a soccer ball into his netted bag and watched Sue stop to speak to one of the boys. His chest tightened as he saw her ruffle the sweaty kid’s hair—with no hesitation, no prejudices. He knew firsthand how foster kids often got viewed as untouchable, as if they weren’t as clean as kids who had real parents. But not by Sue.
Jason had almost canceled today’s practice, but at the last minute he’d decided to simply bring Sue with him. Never would he have thought to bring any other woman with him. That would have brought up too many questions. But that was the thing about Sue: He didn’t have to explain anything to her. She knew about his less-than-grand past. And he liked her knowing about it, too.
Rubbing a hand over his face, he hoped Sue would agree to stay at Maggie’s another night—just in case the electrician didn’t get things up and operating.
One of his players, Jose, came over and asked about the next week’s practice. They were still talking when Cara came running up. “Where’s Miss Sue?” the girl asked.
Jason picked up a soccer ball and slipped it into the crook of his arm. “She went to grab a soda. I saw you teaching her a few cheers.”
Cara’s smile showed off a missing tooth. “I like her!”
“Me, too,” Jason said. More and more, every hour he spent with her.
The girl looked down at her hands and a folded piece of paper she held. “Some boy asked me to give this to her.”
Jason looked at it. “What boy?”
Cara glanced over her shoulder. “I didn’t know him. He said someone gave it to him and asked him to give it to me, and I was supposed to give it to Sue. Or maybe he said to give it to you.”
Jason looked at the concession stand. A crowd stood in line waiting to get refreshments, but he didn’t see Sue. He reached for the not
e and opened it. The ball he held in the crook of his arm dropped to the ground. The three-word message was written in red:
Die, Sue, Die!
“Tommy,” he called to an older boy. “Stay with Cara.”
He took off for the concession stand, his heart racing, his gaze zipping from side to side. The closer he got, the more frightened he became. He stopped in front of the crowd, his breaths falling short.
She wasn’t there.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Sue?” Jason’s panicked voice echoed through the park bathroom. “Damn it, are you in here?”
Sue’s shorts and pan ties hung around her ankles while she half-squatted, her rear held a germ-free inch above the toilet. She’d just gotten a healthy stream going when she heard him. “What?” She lost her healthy stream.
“What are you doing in here?”
A voice with a bold Jersey accent called from the stall to her right, “This is a bathroom, ace. You figure it out.”
“What is it?” Sue grabbed for tissue, only to discover that, just her luck, she’d chosen a paperless stall.
“You said you were going to get a soda!” Jason accused.
“You need permission to go to the bathroom?” the Jersey girl asked.
“I got mace if you need it,” a voice with a Texas drawl chimed in from the left stall.
“I don’t need the mace, but I need some paper,” Sue whispered to her left. She wiggled her fingers under the stall.
“Come out,” Jason said, and Sue saw his feet standing in front of the stall to the right.
“Get out or I’ll call the cops,” Jersey girl yelled.
“I’ve got mace,” the woman to Sue’s left repeated.
“I just need a few squares!” Sue wiggled her fingers desperately.
“Where are you?” Jason snapped.
“Call them,” Left Stall said.
“No, no, I’m here!” Sue spoke up. “Now get out before you get arrested and maced!”
“I work at the abused woman shelter,” said Ms. Right Stall.
“I’m not abused,” Sue said.
“Well, I’m counting to three and then I’m calling the police.”
“I am the police,” Jason seethed.
Divorced, Desperate And Dating Page 25
