Rafe climbed to the top of the bleachers where he could stretch his legs out in front of him. The coach called a huddle, and the players grouped around him. Rafe could only guess what was being said. He leaned forward, paying close attention to the big kid who'd most recently been on the wrong end of the coach's wrath.
Movement to the left of the end zone caught Rafe's attention. The girl he'd talked to earlier, Grace, was running across the parking lot toward the street. He stood, keeping her in his line of vision. She paused at the passenger door of a waiting car, caught his gaze, and held it for a minute. She disappeared inside.
Rafe couldn't see the license number, but he knew that particular yellow sports car cost eighty and a hundred grand and was recognizable from any angle. Why was she leaving school early?
Enough of this unofficial crap. It was time he was assigned to this case. Rafe pulled out his cell to call his supervisor. Maybe he could get Rafe assigned to the task force. His cell vibrated before he'd dialed the number. The name on the screen wasn't the boss. Now why'd his heart speed up at seeing Erin's phone number?
"What's up?"
CHAPTER 10
Why had it gotten difficult to talk with Rafe? And why did she allow his looks to sidetrack her thoughts? Erin had been acutely aware of his rock-hard chest and muscular arms the day she'd stumbled in her hallway. He'd swept her up as if she weighed nothing. The tenderness he'd displayed had been endearing. In the span of a little more than ten years, he'd hardened, forged a rough exterior while nature had polished his physical attributes to a razor-sharp edge.
His Italian ancestry oozed from his pores. His strong jaw blanketed in dark stubble, smoldering gray eyes that looked right through her, and those tempting lips made it hard to concentrate. But damn, he wasn't in the room. He wasn't even in the house.
"Erin. Talk to me." His tone of voice held a hint of worry and a demand for a response.
"Sorry. I got distracted." She decided against telling him she'd been wondering if his lips were soft. "Detective Beckett is coming by. He's asking about a couple of people on the list I gave him. You..." Her mouth had gone bone dry. Erin swallowed and prepared for a rejection. "Do you want to join us?"
"Yeah. I'll head your way right now."
"I make a mean chicken-fried steak. I'll share with you if you want to stay for supper."
"Is Beckett joining us?"
His chilly tone surprised her. Was Rafe jealous? Heat rolled through her system and settled, snuggly and low, in her stomach. "I didn't invite him."
"What wine goes with chicken-fried steak?"
"Any kind you like." The heat in her belly slid lower with his soft chuckle.
"I'll think of something."
Erin disconnected and flopped down on the couch. Had Rafe's low sexy tone hinted he'd assumed this was more than dinner between friends? Was it? He wouldn't be in town much longer. Could she let her guard down and fulfill a few fantasies? A smile pulled at her lips. Why not? He'd be gone soon, and she'd never see him again.
Sex without emotional attachment. Could she do it? Why not? She couldn't remember the last time she'd had sex. A reminder might be just the thing she needed.
She raced through a shower, took particular care with her makeup and hair, and finished minutes before the doorbell rang. Her heart pounded against her ribs, until she looked through the peephole. Hiding her disappointment that it wasn't Rafe, she opened the door.
"Detective Beckett, come in." Erin peeked around his wide body, scanning the porch and yard for his partner. "Where's Detective Henry?"
"Busy. Can we dispense with formality? My name is Wade." He waved a hand toward the empty street. "I see you've lost your audience."
"I heard about the photographer. I guess they're following his story." Erin caught movement from the corner of her eye.
She held the door while Rafe parked in her driveway and came inside. He shook the detective's hand. She took the bottle of wine and cake box from Rafe, leaving the two men to talk. She turned to find them at her breakfast counter. Both were over six feet tall, broad-shouldered, and they filled the room.
"Iced tea?" At their nods, she poured three glasses and set them on the counter. "You found somebody on the list interesting?"
"A couple of them warrant talking about." Wade flipped open a small notebook. "What's your opinion of Coach Terry Evans and YMCA Administrator Domingo Ramirez?"
"I wouldn't think it unusual for the girls to be seen talking with either one. Terry is always talking with students. A lot of the kids use the Y, so Dom would logically be in contact with them."
"How about the principal?"
"The same. Professional. He spends more time on administrative duties. Vice Principal Bushnell handles the staff and students."
Rafe frowned. "There's no Bushnell on my list."
"Her name is Rachael Bushnell."
"Oh." He nodded. "Give me your personal take on the men I mentioned," Wade continued.
"I think Coach is a sleazeball, and Dom is friendly but always professional." Deciding she might have been too hasty, Erin took a second to collect her thoughts. "Terry's a jerk. He bullies the boys and flirts with every female, from teachers to students. Principal Mueller is a politician. He's a little awkward around women. Dom loves everybody. He enjoys working with the girls at the Y. He's always giving pointers to any player who wants to improve her game." Erin shook her head.
Rafe held up a finger. "What are you not telling us?" he asked Wade.
Wade hesitated. "Two of them have had run-ins with the law. A few complaints, but nothing that resulted in arrests."
Rafe placed his empty glass on the breakfast bar. Erin moved to give him a refill. His hand covered hers. His strong fingers wrapped around hers as she gripped the handle of the pitcher.
"I'll pour." Rafe refilled his own glass. "Not good enough," he said to Wade. "Define complaints."
Wade hesitated. "You know I can't share that with you."
Erin had to ask, "Do you think one of them sold the drugs to Penny?"
"I'm just working your list against our records," Wade said. "Until I have proof, I'm not commenting. Right now, I'm looking for loose ends."
"Here's one. Erin initiated the whole investigation by reporting the drugs. If she's in danger, I want to know." Rafe's words chilled the air. Harsh and flat, his tone was menacing.
"I can see you're itching to get involved." Wade's back straightened. "I can't allow you to interfere."
"Me?" Rafe's eyes flashed wide. Erin guessed this was his innocent look. "I won't get in anybody's way." He casually brought his glass to his lips and drank a sip of tea.
"Anyone else interesting?" Erin decided to route the conversation back to the list.
"No one stood out." Wade shifted on the stool, turning so he faced only Erin. "Your response to Terry Evans makes me want to chat with him."
Rafe stood, moving to stand behind her. She resisted the urge to lean back and seek out his support. How easily she'd shifted from blaming him for the misunderstanding they'd had as teenagers to trusting him to look out for her best interests.
"I met Evans today," Rafe said. "He has no business working with kids."
"I heard he was pushing too hard. That doesn't mean he's selling drugs on the side." Wade stood. "Thanks for the tea. I'd better run."
Erin walked Wade to the door. He paused and nodded toward Rafe. "He'll make sure you're safe."
"Yeah. He will do that."
She closed the door, half-expecting Rafe to be standing right behind her. The sudden banging noises coming from her kitchen indicated otherwise.
"What are you doing?" A smile pulled at her lips. The tall, muscular, gorgeous man stood in her kitchen with a frying pan in one hand and the flour canister in the other.
"I'm starving. How about you?"
"I could eat." Erin removed the tenderized steaks from the fridge. She let a chuckle escape. "You cook?"
"I'm a confirmed bachelor. Learning to coo
k was a matter of self-preservation."
Her chest tightened. Rafe's statement had been a direct hit. A reality check. Not that he'd directed it at her as a warning, nor was it a surprise. He was probably available to borrow, but he had no intentions of sticking around.
Erin took charge of the meat, assigning him to biscuit duty. His eyebrows went up when she removed the bag from the freezer. "Use one of these." She handed him a pan from under the counter.
He opened the bag and removed a frozen biscuit. He held it between two fingers for inspection. "I'm supposed to believe this is edible?"
"In twenty-five minutes."
He pursed his lips and tilted his head to the right as he studied the frozen dough. Erin turned on the oven then grabbed her phone and snapped a picture of him. The camera loved the slope of his jawline, his tempting lips, and the mischievous glint in his eyes. She laughed, turning the shot of him around so he could see.
"Now that's a keeper." She slid the cell into her pocket. "Follow the instructions. You can do that, right?"
"Depends on the situation and who's giving them."
Her thoughts went triple-X-rated and weren't the kind she could share. She turned her attention to the steak and worked in silence. If he noticed, he spared her any embarrassment by putting the pan of biscuits in the oven and starting a salad. Erin finished the last dish, a thick white gravy, while Rafe set the table.
He reached around her, and his strong hands covered hers, dwarfing the bowl. "I'll take it."
"Deal. I'll grab the biscuits."
"Not without me. I want to see this miracle."
"Go. You can look all you want after they're on the table."
"I like this side of you," he said, standing close behind her. His deep, sexy voice warmed and unnerved her, while his breath brushed a caress across her ear.
Her insides melted. No way could she look at him, not with heat rushing up her cheeks. She dumped the biscuits into a warming basket and brushed past him. He held her chair at the table, sliding it forward before taking a seat.
"What side of me?" Now that she'd forced out a couple of words, the tension in her shoulders relaxed.
"The side that's not mad at me anymore. It may be old news, but it bothers me that I was too stupid to realize you lashed out because you'd been hurt."
"It's not important." She spooned gravy over her steak. "To hang on to a hurt this long was childish."
"Sure it's important. I would never intentionally hurt you."
The sincerity in his tone and the serious set of his mouth made her wonder. Did he really not know? She handed him the breadbasket in hopes he'd drop the subject.
He peeled back the kitchen towel and stared at the biscuits. "As my Southern granddaddy would've said, 'Well, I'll be damned.'" He picked one up and took a tentative bite. "Good. With gravy, they'll be even better."
"They'll do in a pinch," she said. Pleasure washed over her as he piled his plate high.
Except for an occasional moan from Rafe, they ate in peace for a few minutes. She loved how he enjoyed her cooking.
His hand paused inches from his mouth. "As great as this food tastes, it's not going to get you out of answering my question." He rested his fork on his plate, reached over, and ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek. "A man would be a fool to hurt you."
"You weren't a man, you were a teenage boy."
"That's no excuse. Nick acted out a lot back then, but to deliberately lie and hurt other people. That was wrong. We had probably argued about him using drugs. I can only guess that by hurting you, he must have felt like he was getting even with me."
"I'm sure I said equally horrible things to you."
"You said you'd rather die than be seen in public with me." Rafe's eyebrows lifted.
"You remember my words verbatim?"
"Hey. I'm a guy. Our egos are fragile, especially when we're teenagers." Rafe caught her hand in his. "Nick must've overheard a conversation I had with Dad and Jeff. They wanted me to ask you on a date. Not Nick."
"They what?" Erin's supper rolled into a knot in her stomach. "A boyfriend was the last thing I needed back then."
"Don't you think Jeff was just trying to help?"
"Maybe so, but I realize now that I wasn't ready for a social life. I'd have flipped out if you'd put your arms around me."
"I heard you mention that he'd caught you stealing hot dog buns. You weren't joking."
She'd never been comfortable talking about her childhood. She met Rafe's gaze, prepared to end the conversation. His expression stopped her cold. A softness and compassion radiated from him, pulling her to a level of comfort.
"Yes. I'd been sleeping under a bridge with a small group of runaways. He caught me stealing a package of hot dog buns because I hadn't eaten in days. Instead of arresting me, he hauled me to the youth center and turned me over to Lotty. They saved my life."
"Thank you for telling me." Rafe squeezed Erin's hand. "Jeff's a good man."
She appreciated that Rafe didn't push or ask for more information. "Maybe someday I'll share the rest of the story. But for now, let's eat the dessert you brought."
Time flew by as they ate their slices of coconut cake. After Rafe's second piece, she had to ask if he worked out to stay in shape.
"Genetics and a long run every morning."
"I love to run. I haven't felt safe enough to strike out by myself."
"I'm come get you in the morning."
"Oh," she said as heat shot up her cheeks. "That wasn't a hint."
"I didn't think it was. Six o'clock okay?" The gleam in his eyes said the time was a challenge. No way could she ignore the gauntlet he'd thrown at her feet.
"I usually run earlier, but if you need to sleep in, six is fine."
Erin cleared the table, filling the dishwasher as she went. He brought her his plate and glass, rinsing them before handing them to her.
"We'll drive out to the fairgrounds. The trails out there used to be quiet and safe."
For a moment, images and sounds flew through her mind. The carousel music, the smells wafting off fried turkey drumsticks and cotton candy dragged her close to the abyss. Wrists pinned tightly over her head by a huge hand. Body odor mingled with the stench of stale liquor filled her nostrils. Pain arrowed through her body. Hate crawled up from deep in her subconscious, slithering its way to the here and now.
"My stepfather worked out there. Safe or not, I don't care for that area." She blinked back old memories, refusing to allow the past to control her today.
"Then we won't. But you know I'd never let anyone hurt you, right?"
CHAPTER 11
Rafe took the carafe from Erin and placed it back on the warmer. Despite her apparent resolve not to allow tears to fall, one broke free and slid down her cheek. Before he could react, she wiped it away as if it had offended her. What had happened to her as a child to trigger such a visceral reaction? His blood pressure soared along with his anger. Careful not to frighten her, he moved closer.
"Come here." He spoke softly and pulled her into his arms. "It's okay to cry."
Her body, tight and rigid, relaxed into him briefly. Then she stepped away, and he immediately dropped his arms to his sides. Pink rushed up her neck, running all the way to her hairline. Wide green eyes briefly met his. Then she turned away and walked to the glass doors leading to her backyard. Embarrassment had colored her cheeks, yet she'd held back her tears.
"I'm sorry. I haven't had a meltdown in years."
Rafe followed. Standing behind her, he ached to comfort her. "There's nothing wrong with having an occasional meltdown." He gave in to the urge to touch her and put his hands on her arms. "I need you to believe that as long as I'm around, nothing bad will happen to you."
"I do. Thanks." She leaned into him, the top of her head resting under his chin. "But you won't be around forever."
Her words landed like a kick to the gut. She was right. She wasn't a murder suspect any longer, but the drug situation at th
e school still had to be resolved. "I'll stay until we bust the narcotics supplier."
She turned in his arms to face him. The movement of her hair sent a lemony aroma wafting across his face. Warning bells went off. Getting involved with Erin would be a mistake. Hurting her would be inevitable and unforgivable.
"You can do that?"
"If I have to, I'll tack on vacation to the end of my leave." His brain was firing warning shots, but his desire to hold her grew. He'd never wanted to touch a woman as badly as he did this second. To feel her warm body yield to his. "My boss suggested I reconnect with real people." His hands slid around her small waist. "And you feel very real to me."
He had to taste her. Had to know if her lips were as soft as he thought they'd be. The kiss would be only a light touch, an exploratory meeting.
She lifted onto her toes to meet him. Erin's eyelids fluttered closed, and her mouth opened slightly. She molded against him on contact. Her hands dived into his hair. Damn, he was never getting the stuff cut, not if she liked tunneling her fingers through a long mane.
He increased the pressure, coaxed her to open wider, and then he swept his tongue inside when she did. Sweet heaven, blood rushed to his groin. She rose higher on her toes, placing his growing erection against her stomach.
Erin pulled back. Her eyes glazed with desire. Rafe cupped her cheeks, rubbing his thumb over her swollen lips. "That was much better than I expected."
"Too much too soon, don't you think?" She rested the weight of her head in his hand.
"Do you?" The way his body had reacted to her, he couldn't see it.
"I'm not answering that." She lifted her head, leading Rafe to believe she was about to walk away. Instead, she combed his hair in place with her fingers. "That was quite a leap from not wanting to be in the same room to almost tearing off each other's clothes."
"Naked would be good." Sounded like a good plan to his body, but his brain said otherwise. He didn't have room in his life for attachments. "Okay, I'll buy that we've come a long way in the past few days."
Till Justice Is Served Page 9
