by JM Stewart
He kept his hair short and neat, completing the tidy appearance. The rich golden brown combined with his lightly tanned skin gave him a sun-kissed appearance. His eyes were her favorite feature. A beautiful mixture of sky blue and rain-cloud gray, they were intense and focused. She could always tell his mood by the color of his eyes. When he was playful and upbeat, those eyes were bright blue, like a cloudless sky on a summer day. When he had more on his mind than he wanted to share, when he was broody, they reminded her of the dark clouds that normally blanketed the sky this time of year.
Her gaze drifted to the curve of his right shoulder. Her head fit so perfectly there, as if the spot was tailor-made for her. Heat shivered up her spine, spreading throughout her body to settle liquid and delicious deep in her belly. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel his long, lean body against hers, his addicting warmth infusing her, the way his strong arms closed around her . . .
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Kyle quirked a brow as he slid his watch onto his left wrist and latched the clasp.
Her hands resumed their trembling. Oh God, what was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she stop doing that? She needed to get back the simple connection they’d shared before her attraction.
Kyle and his family had always been there. She recalled the day she’d met Kyle, down on the bank of the river running past the end of their combined properties. Something about his easy smile had drawn her in. She hadn’t trusted anybody back then, and all she remembered about that time was being full of fear. But Kyle had a smile for everyone. He’d sat down on the bank, pulled off his socks and shoes, and dangled his feet into the cool water. She couldn’t remember what he’d said anymore, but he’d talked, drawing her in with his easy personality as he tossed rocks into the water.
Turned out, he’d lived next door. He’d introduced her to his brothers, Chase and Evan, and his sister, Becca. She didn’t remember when exactly she’d started calling him her best friend. Those beginning years were a blur, a mishmash of memories. They’d met down by the river after supper every night for months. There were memories of playing tag or hide-and-seek between their combined properties. Until, slowly over the years, it became more abnormal not to see him every day.
Every year for Thanksgiving, Georgia invited them over. Turned out, Kyle and his family were all alone as well. No father in the picture, no family nearby. But it had taken Gran three years to finally accept one. All Cecelia knew was being with them made her feel like part of a bigger family. They all just . . . fit. Like somehow she’d always known them. The next year, Gran invited them over for Christmas dinner. Eventually, it became tradition to spend the holidays together. They’d combine fireworks on the Fourth of July and set them off together out the field behind the houses, and Gran and Georgia took turns cooking. It was a tradition they kept up even now.
Over time, Kyle’s family had become her family, and they treated her as such. But letting in others didn’t come easily. The doubts about the people she came into contact with hit her like the panic attacks—instinctive and immediate.
Now Kyle was the only family she had left. Whatever nonsense this attraction was, she’d squash it. Yes, being attracted to him made her wonder what it would be like between them. She wouldn’t be human if she didn’t. Could Kyle be the relationship that actually worked? After all, she’d known him for more than twenty years. Outside of Chase and Evan, he was the only man she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she could rely on.
But the fear of losing him always cut that wondering short. Besides, Kyle didn’t think of her that way. He saw her as another sister; but if by some odd twist of fate he thought of her as something more, she couldn’t risk their relationship for the sake of sex. Okay, yes, he was a man, and he was good-looking—she’d always thought so—but she didn’t do relationships well. What if a relationship between them didn’t work? Then she’d lose her best friend. She couldn’t go there.
“Actually, I was thinking about how you dress.” She swallowed hard, praying he didn’t notice the way her voice shook, and offered him what she hoped was a bright smile. She didn’t know what she’d do if he ever caught her drooling. “You’re a perfectionist if ever I’ve seen one. Right down to the crease in your khakis.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He picked up his tie off the bed and looped it around his neck, the left side of his mouth lifting into his trademark lopsided grin. His eyes twinkled at her, a genuine contentment there that seeped inside and wrapped around her heart.
Truth was, they hadn’t been very close lately. Kyle had never said anything, but there was a distinct distance between them she couldn’t put her finger on. It was a bunch of little things. He didn’t call her as much. Once a week or every two weeks, instead of every morning the way he’d done for years. When he called, the conversations were tight and awkward. They weren’t as open with each other. Kyle held back, so she did, too. When they saw each other at get-togethers with his family, he always seemed to watch her but kept his distance.
He didn’t touch her the way he used to, either. In the past, whenever he wanted to feel close to her, he simply did. It wasn’t unusual for him to pull her into his arms for a hug or slip his hand into hers and pull it into his lap. He’d done it for so long she’d never thought twice about it. With the exception of today, he hadn’t done anything like that in at least six months. Instead, a distinct tension had risen between them, an awkwardness that hadn’t been there before.
She’d told herself it was because their lives were so busy. Most days she left the flower shop about the same time he started his shift. She opened the flower shop at seven and went home at three, leaving it to Jeanine to close up at nine. Kyle worked second shift, four to midnight, five days on, two off. Not to mention he’d worked a lot of overtime lately, and she’d spent most of her free time with Jimmy. They hadn’t gotten together, simply to spend time together, in months. They used to make dinner and watch a movie together every Saturday night, but she couldn’t remember the last time they’d done that.
He was still her best friend, though, and she missed him. Badly. Hadn’t even realized how much until he’d opened the door and stood in front of her. It made her realize that half the empty ache in her chest lately was him missing from her life. It was past time to do something about it. Whatever went on between them, it stopped now.
She squared her shoulders, firmly ignoring the butterflies that took flight in her stomach, and crossed the room to him. She took the tie from his hands and began to make the knot. Ironically, he was the one who’d taught her how to tie a tie in the first place. “Tell me something. If I were to go open your closet, what do you suppose I’d find?”
One corner of his mouth twitched, and amusement danced in his eyes. “Contrary to what Becca says, I do not alphabetize my closet.”
She couldn’t help reciprocating a smile. “Yes, but I’ll bet you five bucks it’s all arranged in a systematic fashion. Most likely by type and then by color. You probably even line your socks up in your drawer like a bunch of little soldiers in a parade.”
“Again, I ask you, how is this a bad thing?” He cocked a playful brow and leaned down, touching his nose to hers.
The twinkle in his eye and his sudden closeness had her brain shorting out. He was so close his warm breath fanned her mouth, filling her head with visions of his soft lips closing over hers.
Goose bumps popped up along her arms, and her fingers fumbled over his tie. She swallowed hard, ignoring the images bombarding her mind, and refocused on her task. “Actually, it makes you dependable.”
His whole apartment was like that. Clean white walls, decorated with pictures of the two of them, of his brothers and his sister and their families. Evan and his wife, Malia, and their three girls, along with Becca and her daughter. The rest of the apartment he kept furnished only with the essentials. Everything had its place. That was Kyle—proficient and tidy almost to the point of being anal. He thought everything out, n
ever left anything to chance.
“You’re the kind of man I ought to be searching for.” The words were out before she’d thought about them, but she couldn’t deny their truth. Kyle loved kids. He was terrific with his nieces. Kind, considerate, and thoughtful, he was the kind of man a woman could rely on. One who made a girl feel safe, made her want to give her heart and invest her dreams in. Kyle was one of the good guys.
Kyle froze in front of her, and the atmosphere shifted, filling with the awkward tension that flared between them too much lately. His gaze seared into her with an intensity that made her already trembling hands shake like leaves blowing in a strong breeze. The ends of the tie slipped from her grasp, completely ruining her perfect Windsor knot.
She frowned, yanked the knot apart, and started over. “I hate it when you do that.”
When he studied her like that, she became nervous. Often made her wonder what really went on in his mind. He never said half of what he thought, but his eyes were always moving, taking everything in. Like now. Kyle had an eagle eye, one that had earned him a place in Homicide years earlier than many of his coworkers.
What did he see when he looked at her? Could he see right through her? Could he sense the uncontrollable thoughts that flew at random through her mind these days? That even now, standing there with his tie in her hands, an act she’d done for him countless times, she couldn’t stop trembling because every breath filled her lungs with his clean, spicy scent? Or that she longed to discover the scent on his skin?
“Do what?” His voice drifted quiet and pensive between them.
“I’m not one of your criminal cases.” She concentrated on pulling the wide end of the tie through the knot and not on the way his intense gaze called to her. If she looked up at him right now, he’d no doubt see right through her. Kyle could read her like nobody else. As if she were made of glass. “You won’t find any clues on me.”
“Actually, I wondered if you’d be okay here by yourself tonight.”
“Does that mean I can stay?” She cinched his tie and finally forced herself to meet his gaze.
His eyes searched hers, his worry clear in the crease that formed between his brows. The corners of his mouth curled upward, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Did you really expect me to say no?”
“Thank you. I’ll be fine.” She shook her head and settled a hand on his chest, needing to soothe the worry and awkwardness between them. “You worry too much.”
He glanced at his watch. “Shoot.” When he met her gaze again, his eyes filled with regret. “I can stay if you need me to. I have plenty of unused sick days—”
“Go to work.” She desperately tried to ignore the solid muscles and warm body beneath her hands as she gave him a playful shove toward the bedroom doorway. “You have cases to solve and bad guys to catch.”
He studied her for a moment, the crease on the corner of his mouth deepening. The decision apparently made, he cupped her chin in his palm, his thumb sweeping gently from side-to-side. “We’ll talk later, I promise.”
When she nodded, he placed a tender kiss to her cheek. The way he used to before tension had taken over their relationship. Then he pulled back, offered a gentle smile, turned, and strode from the room. Cecelia released her held breath, the air rushing from her mouth in a whoosh, and let her shoulders slump. Somehow, someway, she’d get ahold of these wayward emotions. She had to. It was time to heal the rift between them, and it started by squashing whatever the hell these longings were.
With a decisive nod, she followed him around the corner and into the living room. “Please be careful.”
Kyle didn’t do anything without thinking through every possible angle, but she couldn’t help saying it, if only to make herself feel better. He had an important job serving their community. People depended on him to do his job well, and he’d saved more than a few lives. The thought of what could happen to him still scared her more than a little. The thought of him getting shot made her sick to her stomach.
He shot a reassuring smile over his shoulder. “Always am, Ceci. You know me.”
When they reached the front room, she stopped and leaned against the wall, eyeing him as he crossed to the door. “Kyle?”
His hand on the knob, he turned sideways, his brows lifting as he glanced back at her. “Hmmm?”
“Thanks. For everything, I mean.”
“Just doing my job, ma’am.” Doing a bad impression of a Southern accent, he tipped an invisible hat, but the humor in his tone didn’t quite reach his eyes. His gaze searched hers for a long moment, worry clearly written in the depths; then he turned and left the apartment.
When the door clicked shut, the silence enveloped her and the weight of her worries pressed down on her again. She slumped back against the wall, taking refuge in its solidity, as a tide of questions swamped her. How could she give her child a future when she had no past? She didn’t remember the first seven years of her life. Who doesn’t remember the first seven years of their life? And what had happened to her parents? How could she give her baby the mother he or she deserved when she spent half her life in fear, with holes buried so deep inside she didn’t feel like a whole person?
She had no idea where the feelings came from, but an aching emptiness lived inside of her she’d never been able to shake. Like she was missing something, and some way, somehow, she’d find the answers. When Kyle got home tonight, she planned to ask him—again—to help. She only hoped this time, he wouldn’t turn her down.
Chapter Two
A deep male voice shouted demands. A loud crack exploded through the air. The acrid scent of gun powder burned her nostrils, and something heavy dropped with a dull thud onto the carpeted floor. She turned her head. Sun filtered through the wooden frame of an unfinished wall, creating a checkerboard pattern on the opposite surface. Dust particles floated in the thin beam of light, disturbed only when she breathed out, swirling like frenzied bugs around a streetlight.
A shadow moved across the hole in the wall, and terror tightened in her chest. An endless stream of hot tears poured down her cheeks, her body shaking uncontrollably. She clamped her hand over her mouth to keep as quiet as possible.
Another angry shout came through the wall, the words indiscriminate.
“No. Please. I don’t know where she is. Please . . . No!” The female voice let out a horrified scream.
Another loud crack exploded through the air, and something else thudded as it hit the floor, so close this time it shook the framework of the walls around her. The frenzied dust particles renewed themselves, swirling around her head.
Oh God. She drew her knees tighter against her belly, rocking in a terror-filled effort not to cry out. Her vision blurred with the tears running down her cheeks. Mama said to stay quiet. If they hear her, they’ll find her. They mustn’t find her.
Footsteps thudded beyond the wall. She froze, holding her breath. Don’t make a sound.
The footsteps receded. In the distance, a door slammed. She dared to turn and peek through the hole. Were they gone? Was she safe now? Where was Mama? Her gaze caught on the red blood that seeped across the tan carpeting. She leaned over, needing to see, but the faces blurred behind a veil of tears.
Cecelia awoke with a gasp, jackknifing upright in bed. Her heart pounding, she darted a glance around the room, dazed and disoriented. The vivid dream continued to play through her mind, and for a moment, she couldn’t remember where she was. Eerie shadows swayed and danced along the far wall, reminiscent of the shadows in her dream. The wind howled past the building, reminding her of the woman’s scream. Tiny raindrops pelted the small window on the far wall, sounding too much like the tap of little fingers trying to get in. The steel belt around her rib cage tightened.
Oh God. Trembling from head to toe, she swallowed hard and jerked her gaze in the other direction, sucking in deep breaths to fill her oxygen-starved lungs. Breathe. Just breathe. Her shirt stuck to perspiration-dampened skin, but she pulled the quilt tig
hter beneath her chin, needing its sanctity.
Finally, the red glare of the digital alarm caught her attention, grounding her in reality. The scent of warm male and a subtle hint of a familiar, spicy cologne drifted beneath her nose. Kyle’s apartment. She was in Kyle’s apartment, in his bed.
Relief shuddered through her. The safety and familiarity of her surroundings once again settled around her, and the tightness in her chest eased. She bent her head, pressed her nose in the quilt, and inhaled, filling her lungs with his familiar scent, let it wrap around her.
With a sigh, she settled back in the bed. The nightmares had come again. They’d plagued her, off and on, all throughout her childhood. She hadn’t had one in some time, though. For a while, after Gran died, the dreams had come frequently, but as the pain of losing Gran lessened, the dreams had eased. Now that she was pregnant, the dreams had started again.
When she woke from one, the terror was always the same. For a few moments, she’d sit in bed, trying to remember where she was, terror tightening in her chest. None of the images made any sense. The dream was a mishmash of images and sensations that always left her feeling as if vital pieces were missing. In the end, all it did was leave her confused. It was the same dream, the same horrifying images, the same feelings of abject terror knifing through her chest, over and over, night after night.
Yet the dream came with the distinct feeling of a deeper meaning. Like those images, those sounds and scents, meant something to her. As if, somehow, she’d experienced the horrific scene, as if she’d lived it. But that wasn’t possible. She’d have remembered living through something like that. Wouldn’t she? And she distinctly didn’t have memories like those.
Then again, everything before she’d moved in next door to Kyle was gone. The first seven years of her life were a hole in her mind. She’d tried. Talking through things with her therapist, she always hoped they’d make her feel safe enough that the memories would come forward, but they never did.
