A Matter of Time 03 - 04 (Volume 2) (MM)

by Mary Calmes

  "I cut you off earlier—tell me why you're going there."

  "You're gonna kill me."

  "Oh God, what," he asked me, his voice lowering.

  "I think I made a mistake."

  "How?"

  "I think maybe Susan Reid is innocent."

  There was a silence.

  "Sam?"

  "Oh fuck that, Jory!" he erupted with a roar. "That's bullshit! Can you please just kill the drama before it kills you?

  Why the need to create—"

  "No," I cut him off. "Listen. The stuff in the apartment wasn't up in pieces, it was up in sheets."

  "I have no idea what—"

  "That's what's been bothering me all this time. It was too neat, but I couldn't figure out what was wrong. If you were gonna create a shrine to someone, why would you create it, then take a picture of it and print it out in long panels that covered a wall. You wouldn't—it would just be up wherever you started it."

  He was quiet.

  "Don't you see, Sam? That's why there was no furniture in that one room, that's why it made no sense—it was staged. I bet Campbell Haddock's bedroom set went to Goodwill or somewhere like that. It was so clean in there, I bet it was professionally done. It was staged, it was all staged to frame Susan. I have no idea why she's letting it happen, but she is by not speaking. So I'm on my way to see her right now."

  "Wait," Sam stopped me and his voice had changed. He had slipped into his cop tone. "Turn around and go home. I'm serious when I tell you that it's past visiting hours and they won't let you in to see her without cause and definitely not without her lawyer. It needs to be set up, so let me do that.

  I'll call everyone and we'll go in the morning."

  "But—"

  "Listen to me just this once, all right?"

  And I didn't want to do it alone, because what in the world was I ever going to say? "Okay—I'll wait."

  "For once he listens," he groaned.

  "I'll meet you at home," I said, and then thought of something. "Or if you want, I can come and join you and your friends at—"

  "I'll see you at home."

  "Thank you for listening to me and loving me even though I'm difficult."

  The familiar growl that was just for me.

  "I love you."

  "I love you too baby... you kill me."

  It was all I needed to hear.

  * * * *

  After I took a long, hot shower I called Dane before I started making myself some dinner. He wasn't sure I knew what I was talking about, but to humor me he promised to call his lawyer and see about talking to his mother. I told him I was sorry for being wrong, again, but as he wasn't absolutely convinced that I was yet, he said he would hold off on accepting my apology. If nothing else, he assured me, my heart had been in the right place.

  I was in the kitchen making soup, having tossed together a salad, when there was a knock on the door. My hands were full and it was open so I called out the invitation to enter. I was surprised when Steven Warren, my next-door neighbor, poked his head in.

  "Oh, hey." I smiled at him. "What are you doing here?"

  "Well, I don't know if you knew, but Lisa and I moved to Downers Grove."

  "No, I had no idea." My life had been much too busy lately to even be aware of what was going on around me.

  "Yeah, so since I didn't really get a chance to say good-bye—seemed like you had a lot going on—I drove by tonight and saw your light on and figured I'd stop."

  "Great," I said cheerfully, motioning him inside. "Come in—come in."

  He closed the door behind him and stood there, looking nervous.

  "Please, when you get settled, call me. I'd love to see the new place—bring a gift, see Lisa."

  He nodded. "Sure."

  "Are you hungry?"

  "Oh no." He smiled quickly, putting up his hand. "I can't stay—Lisa's got dinner for me I'm sure. I just wanted to say good-bye."

  "Thanks." I smiled at him, wiping my hands on the dishtowel before starting across the room to him. "I'll miss you guys."

  "Me too." He smiled at me, and it was a strange smile, bittersweet.

  I walked into him, wrapping my arms around his waist as I rested my head on his shoulder. His sigh was deep, content, and when I shifted to step back, his hands clutched me tight, his face buried down in my shoulder.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I just... there was always stuff I wanted to say that I never got a chance to."

  "Like what?"

  He shook his head. "It's too late."

  I smiled as his hands slipped down my back, sliding up under my T-shirt. I heard the door click open at the same time.

  "Who the fuck are you?"

  I lifted my head and smiled at Sam. He looked like some angry Norse god standing there, larger than life, his face a study in fury. "This is Steven—you remember, from across the hall? He just came by to say good-bye—he and his girlfriend moved to Downers Grove."

  He nodded, turned, and held the door open. "Better get going then. That's a long-ass drive."

  Steven nodded, stepped back from me, and told me he'd call as soon as he and Lisa got situated. I made him promise to.

  "Who the hell was that?" Sam roared at me once he slammed the door after Steven.

  I was confused. "That was Steven, I just reminded you."

  "What the hell was he—"

  "No-no-no," I cut him off, pointing at his feet. "Are you high? Take off your boots—I don't want water all over my clean floors."

  He growled and yanked off his hiking boots.

  "Where are your galoshes?"

  "Jory, why was that asshole in my house?"

  "He came to say good-bye." I scowled at him, walking back into the kitchen. "Were you listening to me at all? I wonder about you sometimes... are you hungry? I made—"

  But he was suddenly behind me, having crossed the room that fast, spinning me around to face him. I gasped, it was so startling.

  "His hands were all over you!"

  "He was just hugging me good-bye."

  "And he needed to touch your skin to do that why?"

  "I dunno, everybody does that."

  "I know! I fuckin' hate it."

  I scoffed. "He doesn't want me, idiot."

  "I saw his face, J, he wants you bad."

  "Believe me, I'm not what he wants. If he did, he would have told me, just like Aaron did."

  "What?"

  I talked way too much.

  "J?"

  "I... shit."

  "Tell me what happened."

  "Sam, it's—"

  "Tell me now, please."

  The "please" was never a good sign.

  "J," he said again.

  So I explained about my interlude in the rain with my ex. I left out nothing, even the kiss.

  "Uh-huh." He nodded, his eyes hard.

  "It doesn't mean anything, Sam."

  "Only because you don't care. If he had his way, he'd have you."

  "Yeah, but—"

  "You need to stop being so accommodating to everyone.

  You need to learn to say no."

  "I say no a lot."

  "Bullshit."

  "Sam, I—"

  "You're way too nice."

  "Sam."

  "Like this asshole in here tonight."

  "Sam."

  "That guy—"

  "Steven," I supplied his name again.

  He growled. "That guy Steven wants you bad, and you're too blind to—"

  "Don't get yourself all worked up."

  "Jory, you need to be more careful. You—"

  "Yes, dear." I yawned, smiling at him.

  "Are you fuckin' listening to me?"

  I leaped at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Not really. Welcome home."

  He grabbed me, hugging me tight, breathing me in. "No one else can have you, you're mine."

  "Everybody knows that, Sam."

  "The fuck they do. You're too nice... everybody thinks
they got a shot with you."

  I tapped his shoulder and when he met my eyes, I gestured at the jar on the counter.

  "Shit," he groaned, fishing in his pocket for a quarter. "Do me a favor; wrap your legs around me while I dig for change."

  I chuckled as he bent and kissed me, rubbing a hand over my ass. I heard the quarter hit the many others already in the jar.

  "Happy?"

  "Ecstatic."

  He grunted as he walked us out of the kitchen and down the hall toward the bedroom.

  "And yeah to your earlier question," he said, his voice low and rough. "I'm hungry... but not for food."

  "I picked up on that," I said, my body liquefying as he pressed me tight against him.

  "Kiss me."

  He didn't have to ask me twice.

  He ate dinner with me later, him in his sweats, and me in my pajama bottoms and T-shirt, and we talked while we ate.

  After dinner I sent him to the couch to watch TV while I cleaned up. He turned on the stereo instead, and Astrud Gilberto filled the apartment. It was soothing, and when I joined him I brought a hot mug of tea for him as well as myself. The afghan on the end of the couch looked warm and inviting, so I wrapped up in it before I sat down. I started talking to him again, but when I asked about his day I didn't get a response. Looking up, I found him gazing around the room.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Just taking it in."

  I glanced around. "It's our apartment, Sam."

  His eyes flicked back to mine. "Yeah, but it feels different when you're here."

  I scoffed at him. "You don't need to butter me up, you already got what you wanted."

  He scowled and I gave out a snort of laughter.

  "What are you trying to say?"

  He was silent a minute, thinking, and then his eyes once again rose to mine. "The best cops I know come home from seeing blood all day and suffering all day and talking to people on the worst days of their lives to homes where they're loved and needed. You don't even know how many times I think about you when I'm up to my eyeballs in shit."

  I reached for his hand and his warm fingers laced through mine.

  "Just coming home, walking in our bedroom and you're sleeping all warm and safe in our bed... I just... I can breathe. My home is a sanctuary now, and I won't give that up because you're pissed at me about something my friends said or because I hate the way... Stacy?"

  "Tracy," I corrected him, smiling, putting my mug next to his on the coffee table.

  "I won't give up my home because I hate the way Tracy calls me 'lover'."

  "I told him I didn't like that either. The only one that can call you lover is me."

  He squinted. "Yeah, don't call me lover. It's just lame."

  I nodded, looking down at our fingers twined together.

  "Look at me."

  I raised my eyes to his.

  "I don't love anything or anyone as much as you. You're my whole life."

  I opened the blanket and climbed over into his lap. He held me tight, his face in my throat as his hands slid up under my shirt to my skin.

  "You're freezing," he told me.

  "I love you," I said back.

  "I know." He chuckled, kissing a line up my throat to my jaw then over my chin before settling on my lips. I parted them and his tongue swept inside, kissing me deeply, taking his time as he opened my mouth wide.

  "If Aaron Sutter ever kisses you again, he'll be sorry," he said as he broke the kiss, leaving me panting.

  "He won't—we're done."

  "Why?"

  "I told him you were the only man I'd ever loved."

  "That would do it," he smiled evilly before he kissed me again. He was so smug, but that was okay with me. Him knowing I loved him was a very good thing.

  When I was wriggling in his lap, little noises coming out of me, shoving my crotch against his flat, cut stomach, he put his hands on my thighs to still me.

  "Stop. I wanna talk to you about Susan Reid."

  But I needed to connect with him, and there was only one way that I wanted to. "Sam," I breathed, my hands unbuckling his belt, fiddling with the snap and zipper.

  "Please."

  "No, listen... we need to—"

  "No." I shook my head, opening his jeans, spreading the flaps, my hands sliding under his briefs. "You, wanting me, loving me.... That makes me so hot, you don't even know."

  "Jory... baby... I...."

  I curled my cold fingers around his hardening cock.

  "God." His voice was raw and deep. "I can't even think."

  Which was what I was after.

  I leaned over to the end table, opened the lid, and retrieved the bottle there. I would have to remember to collect all the lube that was around the house before we had people over. You didn't want someone searching for a pencil to keep score with and come up with a tube of lubricant instead. How would I explain that to Sam's father?

  "What are you giggling about?"

  "I don't giggle," I assured him, chuckling. "School girls giggle, men laugh."

  He rolled his eyes at me, but not before he shoved his jeans down to his knees.

  "Say something good," I said, my voice hoarse and low. I didn't even sound like me.

  "Come here."

  I sank over him, straddling his thighs, my legs folded up beside his hips. His hands felt so good on my suddenly hot skin.

  "I want to have dinner with you every night unless either you or I have an emergency or something else, all right?"

  "Okay." I agreed as I began gently pressing down into him.

  "I like coming home to my home."

  "Me too."

  "It's not home if you're not in it."

  My eyes locked on his. I watched his pupils dilate as he filled me up, and my spinal column turned to mush as he stroked a hand over me.

  "Baby, you feel so good."

  "You missed me."

  "Yes, but not just because of... this."

  His power of speech was leaving him with every second that I pushed down deeper.

  "You... I...."

  I smiled because I had reduced him to guttural muttering.

  I increased my rhythm, gentle replaced with jolting, quick motion, and his breath caught sharply.

  "My sweet baby."

  This, the litany repeated from whisper to yell. And I had the connection I so desperately needed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I had to pee. I sat up in bed, and for a second, I had no idea where I was.

  "Go back to sleep."

  I looked down at Sam, who was on his side next to me.

  Seconds before I had been in the warm cocoon of his arms and now I was sitting up, cold, weighing the need to relieve my bladder against how icy the floors would be, how freezing the air in the bathroom would be, and how much bitching Sam would do when I tried to warm myself with his skin when I got back in bed.

  "Or go pee already."

  I grunted and got out of bed. I would actually write it down this time, the need to purchase a pair of old-man slippers.

  Socks just weren't going to cut it. There needed to be much more insulation between me and the hardwood floors in the middle of winter.

  I whined all the way to the bathroom and all the way back, and I realized that I didn't even remember getting in bed. I had been so exhausted after making love to him the second time that he had probably had to carry me. Not that he ever minded.

  "Where are you?" Sam yawned loudly, which brought me out of my head and into the present.

  "I'm right here." I smiled, coming back around the bed, ready to dive in until I heard a floorboard squeak in the living room. "What was that?"

  Sam went from groggy to fully awake in seconds. When he slid his gun out from under his pillow, I put up my hands in disbelief.

  He glared at me, whispering, "Don't make a big deal out of it."

  I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, but he put a finger to his lips for me to shut up and went im
mediately to the doorway.

  "Don't," I whispered to him. "Just stay here."

  He shook his head. "It's okay, baby."

  But I was terrified. My luck was not good lately. Anything could be out there, and I hated it when he went into dark rooms alone. I gave him a three-second head start and followed him. The front door was wide open, and that scared me to death. How did we not hear the door open?

  "It's clear," he yelled out to me as all the lights in the living room and kitchen flicked on.

  I pointed at the front door.

  "Yeah, I know. Just—calm down. Sit on the couch and let me look around."

  I did as I was told, feeling like I was in a horror movie where something was going to jump out at me at any second.

  "I don't see anything," he called to me from the second bedroom before checking out the door that led to the tiny square of concrete that was listed as the "patio" when I moved in. All you could see from it were the other "patios" of my neighbors.

  I waited for him, frozen on the couch as I looked from window to window in the living room. When lightning paled the sky, I thought I saw something move. My yell brought him, fast, down the hall.

  "What?"

  I pointed at the window that led out to the fire escape. All the others were much too high up a sheer brick wall for anyone to ever be in. Unless you were a vampire.

  He darted across the room but stopped when he got there.

  "J, it's wet over here."

  I felt the shiver slip down my spine. "Is it open?"

  He turned to look at me. "Yeah."

  "Shit," I said, getting up to join him.

  "Stay there," he ordered me, throwing up the window.

  "Don't you dare stick your head out there," I yelled at him.

  I watched him decide, saw the muscles cording in his jaw, his shoulders tensing before he suddenly relaxed and closed the window with a bang.

  "Thank you."

  "Aww, babe," he said, walking over to me, putting an arm around my neck and pulling me close to kiss my forehead.

  "It'll be okay. I'll call it in—you'll see. Everything's gonna be fine."

  I nodded, trembling against him.

  * * * *

  Our apartment was swarming with policemen. Most of them were wearing those jackets that said POLICE in bold yellow letters, but some were in ties and suits and those shiny black shoes, while others were in uniforms and hats with shower caps over them to keep them from getting soaked from the rain. The crime lab guys were there dusting and taking photographs, outside on the fire escape, inside by the window, and down on the street. Someone had been in the apartment, they were sure of it; they just didn't know who and there were no fingerprints to be found.