She put the cat down at his feet and stood up. He wasn’t looking at the cat anymore but at her. And he had that look on his face again, the warm, interested look that had put a flutter in her stomach and made her want to go out with him.
“You’re a good man, Jay.” She went up on her toes and kissed him. As she eased away, he pulled her back in and kissed her again, harder. As he let her go, she felt a surge of attraction.
“Sorry.” His hands dropped.
“No, it’s good.” She caught his hand and squeezed it.
And then she stepped back, because she was sending him mixed signals, and she needed to leave him alone until she got her head straight.
He gave her a puzzled smile, and she smiled back, and she felt a swell of relief because things felt right between them again. She was glad she’d come.
He cleared his throat. “I should get to the gym,” he said. “Thanks for the cookies.”
She followed him down the hall. “Thanks for kicking my door in,” she said.
“Anytime.”
• • •
“Your cop’s here.”
Laney glanced over her shoulder to see Tarek standing in her cubicle. He wore a black T-shirt with his favorite slogan stamped across the front in tall white letters: “RTFM.” Read the fucking manual.
Laney tried to shake off the daze.
“My what?”
“Your detective guy,” Tarek said. “He’s down in the lobby.”
Laney got up and glanced at her phone. She didn’t think she’d missed a call, but then again, maybe she had. She’d been coding feverishly all afternoon, immune to all distractions, even thoughts of Reed. Now a buzz of anticipation filled her as she rode the elevator down to the lobby.
He’d been called to a crime scene at 3:20 A.M., and Laney had woken up alone with a dull ache in her chest. Reed had spent every night at her house for three weeks, and it amazed her how quickly she’d gotten used to his warmth in her bed and his truck in her driveway and his razor on the side of her bathroom sink.
When she stepped off the elevator, he was standing beside the reception desk.
“Hey, I was about to call up there.” He held up a cardboard coffee cup. “Extra-large no-whip latte. I figured you skipped lunch.”
She took it. “Thanks.” She glanced around the lobby. “You want to go outside or—”
“Come on.” He pushed through the glass doors and led her around the side of the building to a tree-shaded spot with a picnic table. But instead of heading for the table, he took her hand and pulled her close to the building.
“What—”
He cut her off with a kiss, easing her back against the concrete and tipping her head back the way he did. He took her mouth with his until she was pliant and dizzy and she didn’t even care where they were, she just wanted to be with him.
He stepped back and looked down at her. “Missed you this morning.”
“How was it?”
“Okay.”
Which meant bad, she was learning.
She walked over and set her coffee on the picnic table. He hadn’t bought any for himself, so he’d probably been mainlining it all day.
“I wanted to get back over before you left for work,” he said. “But I had to swing by my house, get a shirt, put my trash cans out on the curb. Place is starting to look abandoned.”
She leaned back against the picnic table and looked up at him, trying to read his expression. Was this his way of telling her something?
A warm breeze wafted up, stirring the limbs of the pecan tree above them.
“We could sleep at your house sometime,” she said. “We don’t always have to stay at my place.”
“I don’t mind.” He swept the lock of pink hair from her eyes. “You’ve just been through something. I know you feel safe at your place. With your security system. And your ferocious guard cat.”
He smiled, but she knew he was serious. He was trying to be supportive. He was trying to help her through the traumas, past and present, that she never liked to talk about. He’d been so patient with her, watching her with those long, steady looks and waiting for her to open up to him. And she was, gradually giving him pieces of herself. But she worried it wasn’t enough. Every time they made love, the raw intimacy of it blew her away. He demanded everything, every fiber of her being, and then some. And she’d lie next to him, sated and blissed out and stunned that she could feel so close to someone.
“Hey.” He slipped his hand around her waist. “You’re giving me that look.”
He bent his head down and kissed her again, long and deep, while the warm breeze swept over her skin. He stepped back and let her go.
“I did have a purpose in coming here, believe it or not,” he said. “I wanted to ask you out to dinner tonight. Someplace good.”
“Hmm. How about Bangkok Palace?”
“I was thinking Adrienne’s.”
She drew back. “Adrienne’s is nice. And expensive.”
He smiled and shook his head. “I’m trying to take you on a date here. Every time I ask you to dinner, you storm out on me, or one of us gets called into work, or we end up at a crime scene. You’re making it damn hard to court you, Laney.”
“You’re courting me,” she stated, and felt a tingle in her stomach.
“That’s what people do at the start of a serious relationship.”
The ache was in her chest again. She pressed her hand to it as she looked at him, searching his eyes. “Is this a serious relationship?”
“Don’t you think?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never been in love before.”
He smiled slightly and took her hand. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”
She nodded.
He pulled her against him, and her heart was racing. Then he kissed the top of her head. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
She swallowed. “Eight’s good.”
“If anyone asks you to work late, tell them to go to hell.”
He walked her back to the entrance, then gave her a quick kiss good-bye. Her gaze followed him down the sidewalk toward the parking lot.
Laney stepped inside the cool dimness of the building. She walked across the lobby feeling slightly dizzy again. She stopped beside a cluster of people waiting for an elevator and stared down at her feet.
Reed Novak was courting her. He wanted to take her to Adrienne’s tonight. What the hell was she going to wear?
“Coming, Laney?”
She glanced up to see Dmitry staring at her from inside the elevator. It was filled with her coworkers, young guys in T-shirts and cargo shorts and flip-flops, all bent over their cell phones playing games and texting—all except for Dmitry, who was watching her expectantly.
“On or off?”
She stepped on and turned around to face the doors as they eased shut. I’ve never been in love before.
God, what had she done?
She shot her arm out, and the doors sprang open. She rushed across the lobby to the windows and spotted Reed at the edge of the parking lot. Her heart lurched. She hurried outside as he reached his truck and pulled open the door.
“Reed!”
He turned around. He shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand, watching her as she caught up to him. When she reached him, her cheeks were flushed and her pulse was pounding. He rested his arm on the door and gazed down at her, and she couldn’t read the look in his eyes.
She took a deep breath to summon her courage. “You never responded to what I said.”
He looked at her a moment. “The love thing.”
“Yes.” Her heart actually hurt now, like he had it gripped in his fist.
He stepped closer, his gaze intent on hers. “I didn’t want to freak you out.”
“You won’t freak me out. J
ust tell me the truth.”
He slid his hand around her waist and lifted the other to cup her face. “You sure?”
She nodded.
“I’m crazy, stupid, out of my mind in love with you, Laney.” He tipped her chin up and kissed her, and the grip around her heart loosened. It was beating wildly, like it might beat right out of her chest, and she clung to him as his words sank into her mind, her soul.
He eased back to look at her, and the tenderness she saw in his eyes made her breath catch. He was right. It did hurt. But it was a good hurt, a joyful hurt, and she felt hot, joyful tears coming to her eyes.
“Think you can handle it?” he asked her.
She pulled him back and kissed him.
From the next heart-pounding Tracers novel
by Laura Griffin . . .
Coming from Pocket Books in 2017
Everything about this felt wrong, and Tessa couldn’t believe she was here as they bumped along the gravel road, their headlights cutting through the tunnel of trees. When they reached the clearing James rolled to a stop and shoved the car into park.
Tessa gazed straight ahead at the moonlight shimmering off the inky lake.
“This okay?” he asked.
“Fine.”
He turned off the music, and she listened to the drone of the cicadas and the guttural croak of bullfrogs outside. An electronic chirp sounded from her purse. Crickets, her sister’s ringtone. Tessa silenced the phone and dropped it into the cup holder.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“No one.”
The car got quiet again and James reached for her, pulling her across the seat and sliding his warm hand under her shirt.
“Wait. Maybe we should talk first.”
“We don’t have much time.” He squeezed her breast.
“James, I mean it.”
He leaned back and sighed. “Talk about what?”
“Us. This.”
His face was shadowed, but still she could see the heat in his eyes as his hand glided up her thigh.
“So talk.” He kissed her neck, and she inhaled the musky scent of his skin—the scent that drew her to him in the most primal way, in a way she’d never been able to resist no matter what the consequences. She responded to this man on a molecular level, with every cell in her body.
He kissed her mouth, softly at first, then harder. He pulled her close, shifting her until she was almost in his lap.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” His breath was warm against her throat, and whatever she’d wanted to talk about was gone now. He slid his hand down her shirt, deftly popping open the buttons one by one. Then the fabric was off her shoulders, and cool air from the vent wafted over her skin. She reached for his belt buckle.
A sudden flash of light made her jump. She squinted over her shoulder at the blinding white as a car pulled up behind them.
James went rigid. “Damn it, a cop.”
Her heart skittered as the car’s door opened. She hurriedly pulled her shirt on and darted a look at James.
“Don’t talk,” he said sternly.
A light beamed into the driver’s side, and she shrank back against the door as James buzzed down the window.
“Evening, officer.”
“This your vehicle, sir?”
“Yes, it is.”
The flashlight beam moved to Tessa’s face, then dipped lower. She tugged the sides of her shirt together and looked away.
“Step out of the car, sir.”
James gave her a warning look and pushed open his door.
She sank down in the seat. Perfect. This was just what they needed. Could they be charged with something? Trespassing? Or public lewdness, maybe? Her cheeks burned and she glanced back at the cop.
Pervert. He probably staked out this lakeside park every weekend and waited for couples to pull in. He probably got a sick thrill from embarrassing people.
Pop! Pop!
The noise rocked the car and she lurched against the window, shrieking. Terror seized her as she gaped at the open door.
He’s shooting. He’s shooting. He’s—
The flashlight shifted. Tessa scrambled for the door handle. She shoved open the door and lunged from the car, landing hard on her hands and knees.
Pop!
The sound reverberated through her brain, her universe. She clawed at the grass and stumbled to her feet. Adrenaline spurted through her veins as she raced for the woods.
He was behind her, right behind her. She sprinted for the cover of the trees, screaming so loud her throat burned.
No one can hear you. You’re all alone.
An icy wave of panic crashed over her and her cries became a shrill wail. Her heart pounded as she ran and ran, waiting for the bite of a bullet.
Hide, hide, hide!
She plunged into the woods, choking back her screams as she swiped madly at the branches. Thorns tore at her skin, her clothes, but she surged forward. It was dark. So dark. Maybe he wouldn’t see her in the thicket.
He killed James. He killed him killed him killed him. The words flashed through her mind as she swatted at the branches.
She had to get out of here. She had to get help. But she was miles away from anyone, stumbling blindly through the darkness. Branches lashed her cheeks, and they were wet with blood or tears or both as she plunged through razor-sharp brush and her breath came in shallow gasps.
She tripped and crashed to her knees. Pain zinged up her legs, but she pushed to her feet and kept going, deeper and deeper into the woods. No one was out here. Her only chance was to hide.
She smacked hard into a tree. She swayed backward, then caught herself and ducked behind the trunk, forcing her feet to still, even though her pulse was racing.
No noise. Nothing.
Only the whisper of wind through the branches and the wild thudding of her own heart. She dug her nails into the bark as she strained to listen. She couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone was squeezing her lungs in a big fist. She shut her eyes and tried to be utterly still as she fused herself against the tree and waited.
In the distance, a soft rustle. She turned toward the sound and felt a swell of relief. Had she lost him?
Please, God. Please, please, please . . .
A faint snick behind her, and Tessa’s heart convulsed. She hadn’t lost him at all.
He was right there.
• • •
Dani Harper steered her pickup truck down the narrow road toward the whir of lights. She reached the clearing and pulled up beside a white van, surveying the scene through the mist. A pair of uniforms stood off to the side. Beyond a line of haphazardly parked vehicles, swaths of yellow tape cordoned off a silver sedan.
She glanced at the logo on the van and her nerves fluttered. The Delphi Center. Her boss must have called them. The lieutenant didn’t like using outside help, but San Marcos PD didn’t have the resources to handle a scene like this.
Dani reached for the poncho she kept in back, then thought better of it. It would be hot as a trash bag, and she was already soaked from her yoga class. She pushed aside the grocery sack containing the frozen dinner she wouldn’t be eating anytime soon and grabbed a baseball cap. She settled it on her head and pulled her ponytail through the back as she got out. Her cross-trainers sank into the muck.
One of the uniforms trudged over, and Dani recognized him as he passed under the light of a portable scene lamp. Jasper Miller. Six-three, two-fifty. He was a rookie out of Houston, barely six months on the job.
“Hey, Dani.” He smiled, catching her off guard again with those boyish dimples that seemed at odds with his huge build.
“Tell me you didn’t touch anything.” She pulled a pair of gloves from the box she kept in the back of her truck.
“I didn’t touch anything.”
She tugged the latex over her hands and took out a mini-Maglite. She picked her way across the damp grass, careful not to step on any sort of evidence.
“When did you get here?” She ducked under the scene tape.
“Oh, about—” He checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes ago? Call came into dispatch about nine twenty. Old lady that lives off the highway thought she heard someone shooting off fireworks here in the park. First responder got here fifteen minutes later.”
“And them?” She nodded at the two crime scene technicians crouched behind the sedan examining something. A tire impression, maybe? Whatever it was, they’d erected a little tent over it in case it started to rain again.
“They showed up five minutes ago,” Jasper said.
The car was a late-model Honda Accord, squeaky clean right down to the hubcaps. It must have arrived before the rain. The driver’s side door stood open, and Dani’s stomach tightened with dread as she walked around the front, sidestepping a numbered evidence marker. She halted and stared.
The victim lay sprawled in the grass. Khaki pants, button-down shirt, short haircut. He had a bullet hole just below his neck, and flies were already buzzing around it, making themselves right at home. They hovered below his belt, too, where the front of his pants was dark with blood.
Dani felt a wave of dizziness. Then it was gone.
She stepped closer, glancing up at the blue tarp someone had thoughtfully erected over the body. She switched on her flashlight and crouched down for a closer look. On the victim’s left hand was a wedding ring, and Dani’s heart squeezed.
Some woman’s whole world would be shattered tonight. It was shattered already—she just didn’t know it yet.
She glanced up at Jasper. He looked nervous and eager for something to do.
“I’ve got a portable field lamp in the back of my truck,” she said. “You mind?”
He trekked off, and she focused on the victim again. Given the location at this park she’d expected a teenager, but he looked more like an accountant. She studied his face carefully. His lifeless eyes were half-shut and wire-rimmed glasses sat crooked on his nose. A determined line of ants had already formed a trail into his mouth.
Deep Dark Page 28
