by Becky Flade
She shivered. “I’ve lost count.”
He paused, and she imagined him looking over her shoulder. She could’ve turned and had his mouth on hers again. Bad idea. I’m a heartbeat away from begging him to take me on the counter. Coward.
“Sorry. Go ahead, make iced tea. I’ll behave. Promise.”
She looked over her shoulder; saw the gentle humor in the twist of his mouth, but the threat of something hot and dangerous reflected in his eyes. He sat in one of her kitchen chairs, straddling the back. Unapologetic and irresistibly handsome. Yet, he looked like he belonged in her kitchen. Her heart fluttered in her chest and panic tried to override the stirrings of lust. He should come with a warning label.
“You know how you fantasize about something over and over until you’ve built it up into this huge thing that reality can never measure up to?”
“Yeah.” She angled the pitcher under the faucet and turned the cold up high. She leaned her hip against the lip of the sink and tilted her body facing him. “I know what you mean, why?”
“Kissing you was so much better than I had imagined.”
“Oh.” She laughed at the unexpected compliment. “Ditto.”
“You imagined it then? Kissing me?”
She grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and filled them with ice. “I don’t think your ego needs more of a boost than it’s already gotten, Jayson. Much more and you won’t be able to get back through the door.”
She turned, holding the matching glasses of tea up like shields. He smiled. Disarmed, she couldn’t keep her lips from curving in kind. “Let’s drink these out back. I’ve got a patio set out there I rarely get the opportunity to use.”
“Okay.” He took the glasses from her, and she held the door open for him.
He chose the wicker love seat, sized for two, the invitation and the dare obvious. She notched her chin and joined him in the shade. No one had ever called any Parker a coward.
“This is a great spot.”
She nodded, leaned back and sipped her iced tea. His arm was slung over the back of in a casual embrace. But there wasn’t anything casual about his fingers rubbing her shoulder or the way the gentle caress sent butterflies cartwheeling in her gut.
“I like the storage chest slash coffee table. Did your dad make it?”
“Yep. He uses my place as a trial run when mom’s got an idea.”
“Are your brothers as handy with a tool set?” He sipped his tea.
He tried to hide the grimace. She laughed. He had no one to blame for the over-sweet tea but himself. “Not so much. But they’re reliable labor and take instruction well.”
“What’s everybody doing these days?”
“Mike’s a doctor, married with two kids. His wife Kira is a godsend. Pat’s an electrician, also married and expecting his first soon. He gets pulled into a lot of mom’s rehab projects as you can imagine. Scott’s an accountant. He’s married, with one baby. Jordan and her husband Greg own a greenhouse. They helped me landscape back here so I could have shade without needing awnings. They have kids too. Mom and Dad drive each other crazy and spoil their grandkids rotten.”
“I always wanted to be a part of your family. Your mom was my first love. She gave me apple pie and chocolate milk. Patched up my boo-boos and then kissed them better.” His smile faded as he looked at her. “She told you. When?”
“This morning. She didn’t say much. Only that you’d tried to run away from home because your dad had hurt you.” She kept her tone even, sensing he’d have been irritated with any show of pity for the little boy he’d been.
“I found out after starting school my family wasn’t normal, but I had nothing to measure it against until I met your parents. They’re wonderful.” He sat his glass down and took her hand. “I want to tell you something. It’s about the Senior Picnic.”
“Oh God, I went on about that last night, didn’t I? I am so sorry. I must have sounded like a moron.”
“No, you didn’t. Now listen. I didn’t cheat off you. I knew the answers to the English final. My plan was to turn eighteen, get my diploma and get the hell out of my father’s house. I wasn’t about to let one English test trap me in that cage. I lied because I needed an excuse to ask you out.” He shrugged, “I was seventeen and insecure.”
“Was it that bad, Jayson?”
“At home? Yeah. It was. You know how your parents are so well suited to one another?”
She nodded.
“In a sick way, so were mine. Victim and abuser were the roles they knew best. I’d try to protect her, and he’d hit me instead. Eventually, he didn’t need a reason to go at me or my sister. Freshman year of high school, my mother deflected his anger and the resulting violence on me.”
“Are you serious?”
“She just didn’t want to get hit anymore, and she wasn’t brave enough to protect herself let alone me and Amelia. I think she thought I was big enough to defend myself by then.”
“She was wrong.”
She’d seen abuse; saw the effects of it on a family. She wasn’t naïve. The precinct received more domestic calls than they did any other type of emergency and she’d responded to her share. But she couldn’t comprehend the childhood he described. His childhood was a nightmare. Mine a fairytale.
The sun warmed her skin where it fell in speckled pattern through the leaves. The scent of cut grass and blooming flowers filled the air. It was a beautiful day. And it made his horror story much worse by comparison.
“The day before the picnic he noticed money missing from his wallet. She probably took it. Wouldn’t be the first time she’d had to steal from him to feed us or pay the rent. But it was the first time she got caught. She told him I took it. He used a baseball bat on me. I was in the hospital for two weeks.”
“Oh, Jayson, I didn’t know. I thought you’d tricked me.”
He took another sip, and when he put the glass down, she took his hand.
“I thought you knew and just didn’t care.” He linked his fingers with hers. “Your dad pulled my father off me, kept him off me until the cops and paramedics got there. He stayed with me in the hospital. Your mom visited, too.”
“They never said anything.” She thought of her parents. They were kind, thoughtful people with enormous hearts. “You didn’t have a great many people you could trust as a kid. Maybe they didn’t want to betray that. What happened to him?”
“He went to jail. Pled it out, so at least I didn’t have to testify against him. He got two years, did eighteen months, and less than a year after getting released killed himself in a drunk driving accident.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
She looked into his eyes, and although she didn’t see any malice, she didn’t see a lie either. I can’t imagine not feeling any grief at the loss of a parent. Her heart broke for him.
“I am sorry I didn’t get to take you to the picnic. Were you upset?”
“Devastated.” She toyed with her glass. “Thanks to you, I had four guys waiting on me instead of the five I’d planned.”
He laughed, as she’d intended.
“I was inconsolable. Sat there all day by myself imagining you off somewhere with an experienced, sexy girl. I pictured both of you laughing at me. Broke my young heart in two. I had a huge crush on you.”
“Had?” His cell phone rang. “Hold that thought.”
He stood and walked a few feet away where he had a quiet, but intense, conversation. He disconnected, and she stood when he approached.
“I have to go.” He leaned in and kissed her on the mouth. “I want to take you out. On a date. How about tomorrow night?”
She nodded.
“Okay. Okay.” He smiled and started to walk away. “I’ll see you at six?”
“Six.”
“Great. Dress as casual as you like, we’ll be on the bike.” He came back and kissed her again. “See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.”
He disappeare
d around the corner of her driveway. She sank into the cushions and stared as the bike roared in the distance. A date with Jayson Donovan. Off to work for the drug dealer today. Out on a date with a cop tomorrow. What am I getting myself into?
CHAPTER SIX
The bike pulled up and she ran to the door, a hand pressed low on her belly where butterflies danced. She’d debated all day whether or not she should cancel. When she opened the door, she was glad she hadn’t. He looked wonderful in loose denim and a light blue shirt that picked up the blue in his eyes. He smiled at her; she smiled back without thinking about it.
“You look great.”
“I was just thinking the same thing about you.” She grabbed her purse. She’d chosen her favorite skinny jeans, the ones she knew complimented her backside, and a jersey blouse in soft black. It was a good look for her and casual enough for the motorcycle.
“Do you have a jacket or a hoodie for later? Something you can wrap around your waist, just in case? It can get cold on the bike after dark.”
She grabbed a windbreaker from the coat rack and tied it around her waist before closing the door. He grinned and jogged down the few steps to the pavement. The nerves came back. Maybe this is a bad idea. She stood on the top step, irritated with her own uncertainty. What if something happens? He watched her, he waited.
“Are you armed?”
“Excuse me?”
He didn’t hide his amusement. He’s laughing at me.
“Do you have a weapon on you?” She put her hands on her hips. “It’s a valid question given your line of work.”
“Nope. Do you?” He smiled. “It’s a valid question given your line of work.”
I will not be charmed. “Should I bring one?”
“Do your dates usually require a pistol, Officer?”
“It’s not funny. I need to know. Should I bring my sidearm?”
He shook his head, but the smile he suppressed pulled at the corners of his mouth. Jesus, I’m an idiot. This is why I don’t date much. She met him beside the bike. He held out a helmet, and she took it.
“Where’s yours?”
“It is not necessary I wear one in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania.”
“I know that, but if you’re not wearing one, why did you just hand me this?”
“Because I’m afraid of what your mother would do to me if she ever found out you were on the back of my bike without a helmet.”
She laughed, but put the helmet on all the same while he mounted the bike. She slid on behind him after he’d folded the kickstand and balanced the bike. The inside of her thighs hugged the outside of his flanks, and her arms circled his narrow waist as she linked her fingers over his taut stomach. Her nipples brushed his hard back. Lust arrowed through her. This is a bad idea, but for way different reasons than she’d originally predicted.
Jayson turned the ignition, and the bike bolted out into the street. She’d considered getting a motorcycle, she loved to ride. Found the absolute sense of freedom obtained from taming a growling motor with the wind in your face addictive. But slapping on a badge and risking her life to protect others scared her parents enough as it was. She’d settled for the jeep. Moments like this made her regret the compromise.
At a red light, he looked over his shoulder. “You’re not new to this.”
She smiled and winked at him. When the light changed, he gunned the engine. She tightened her hold. But wasn’t afraid.
They hadn’t gone far before he eased to a stop alongside Pennypack Park. He cut the engine. “We’re here.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
She climbed off; hiding her disappointment and stood back as he parked the bike and secured the helmet. He took her chin in his hand and tilted her face toward the dying sun before kissing her on the mouth. Birds chirped and children laughed in the distance, a car engine revved and she thought, for a giddy second, it was the sound of her heart she heard. She laughed and took a step back. He grabbed her hand and led her into the trees.
They took a dirt path through the bushes, a trail worn by years of foot traffic taking a short-cut through from the street to the creek. A canopy of leaves blocked the waning sun, giving the appearance dusk had already set. She kept her eyes on the ground and her hand in Jayson’s as they stepped over rocks and roots. Good thing I chose an outfit I could wear with sneakers. “Where are we going?”
“Here.” He stepped out and pulled her to his side. They stood on the top of a hill before the park’s amphitheater. Stadium chairs, blankets, and coolers spotted the grassy expanse. Children ran and laughed while adults chatted. The juicy scent of grilling meat filled the air. It was like summer had found them already.
She followed him until he stopped and dropped onto a large unoccupied blanket. He grinned up at her. A picnic. He took me on a picnic. Amusement tinged her pride.
“I don’t know if this is charming or insulting.”
“While you’re trying to make up your mind, why don’t you have a seat? I’ve got a six-pack of cold soda and if you’re hungry, some snacks. But keep in mind, we’re going to dinner after.”
“After what?” She sat.
“The concert.” He sighed. “I’m not making fun of you. They do a summer concert series here every year. This is the first one of the season and I thought it could be fun. Yeah, I thought the blanket was a cute touch—since we’re both owed a picnic—but that’s it. If you’re not into this, we can go to dinner now. Or if you want, I’ll take you home.”
“I’m sorry.” She put her hand on his and smiled. “I don’t date much. And I’ve never dated anyone I’ve arrested before.”
“You’re forgiven.” His quick smile returned. He reached into a collapsible travel pack and pulled out a can of Pepsi. “You want one?”
She nodded, popped the tab, took a long sip and leaned back on the blanket. He was right. It was a nice evening to be in the park. And I’m a jerk. “Who’s playing?”
“A Guns and Roses cover band called November’s Rain. I hear they’re good.”
She laughed. Guns and Roses were the “it” rock band when they were in high school. Even if her tastes did lean more toward pop, there wasn’t a song she wouldn’t recognize.
“You haven’t asked if I’m seeing anybody.” She turned the can in her hand. “Why not?”
“If you were, you would’ve volunteered the information the first time I hit on you. You’re the most honest person I’ve ever met. It didn’t even occur to you to lie and say you were seeing someone just to get me to back off.”
“Are you seeing anybody?”
“Do you think we’d be here if I were?”
“No. I don’t. But I still need to ask for my own peace of mind.”
“I am seeing you. Just you. And I haven’t been dating much myself.”
“Busy with work?” She wanted the question to come across as conversational, but the question sounded snide even to her ears. He laughed. At least he’s not insulted.
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
He laid back pillowing his head on his hands and staring up at her with blue eyes that made her heart pound. Just like in high school. She’d have given him anything he asked for back then, if he shined those blue eyes her way, flashed his pouty smile.
“The band gets going once the sun sets. It’ll be hard to talk and then we’ll be on the bike. Anything you want to ask me while you can?”
She could ask about his job. About his boss. But I want this to be a real date with an attractive guy. And if I ask about his work, we’ll be the cop and the crook instead. I want the date I didn’t get in high school.
“Do you like football or baseball?”
Dusk fell around them as they talked about sports, movies, and books. And when the band took the stage they sang along as did the people set up on the hillside around them. She laughed at the antics of the fake Axel and faux Slash. The band slowed it down, and she recognized the mournful guitar riff from the ba
nd’s most famous power ballad. He pulled her to her feet and folded her into a slow dance under the stars.
“You look so much like you did. Only more beautiful now,” he whispered in her ear. “I must be dreaming.”
Her heart thrummed with the bass line. He’s going to kiss me. I hope he kisses me. She expected tenderness. She was wrong. His lips were hard on hers, forcing them to part and her neck to bow. His tongue swept into her mouth. Her head swam, her heart pounded, and lust curled in her belly. She clung to him. He backed away first, breaking the kiss, and she gulped in air as the families on the neighboring blankets cheered them.
“Food.”
“Food.” She helped him pack. Smiled when he gave the extra sodas and snacks to the family sitting nearest. And didn’t hesitate to take his hand when he offered.
They hiked back out to the street, the muted sound of rock music following them through the now-near pitch brush as they stepped out beside his motorcycle. He handed her the helmet, and she put it on, neither saying anything as he strapped the rolled up blanket to the back fender.
Her thoughts raced. She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted much more than just to kiss him. The passion galloping through her held more than a note of fear. He could hurt me. Her mother said he wouldn’t on purpose. I could hurt him. She watched him mount the bike. What’s he thinking?
She swung her leg over the seat and got comfortable. He groaned as she tucked her body tight against his. And she smiled as the engine rumbled to life under them. I get to him. She snuggled closer when he took the ramp to the interstate. His heart beat heavy against the palm she slid up his chest. This may be a mistake, but it’s mine to make.
He pulled up alongside a small building tucked away on a small street downtown. Lush plants draped with fairy lights decorated the exterior leading to a cobblestone patio set with several wrought iron tables and matching chairs. The couples seated there stared into each other’s eyes over fat, short, flickering candles. The restaurant was made of aged brick boasting gas lamp sconces, climbing ivy and fancy black awnings. It looked like someone dropped a romantic scene from a foreign film onto a tiny Center City street.
