by Beth Andrews
She felt, more than saw, him glance at her. “They’ll think what they want,” he said after a long moment, “whether it’s true or not.”
“I’d rather not know a single soul than have everyone talking about me, knowing about my personal life.”
“Once you get used to it, a small town’s not so bad.”
“I know exactly what it’s like. The town I grew up in isn’t much bigger than Serenity Springs.”
“You don’t miss it?”
Miss everyone looking down their noses at her, knowing her every mistake? Hardly. “No. I’d rather be in New York. Look at all it has to offer. Starbucks. Krispy Kreme. Excitement. Variety.”
“There’s nothing about the city you don’t like?”
She could do without her supervisor, Eric, giving her the worst shifts at the club and cornering her every chance he got so he could rub his insignificant self against her. But she couldn’t blame that on the city. Just her own stupidity for breaking her “No sleeping with the boss” rule and getting involved with Eric in the first place.
She stopped beside her car, unlocked the door and faced Jack. “New York is the biggest, most exciting city in the world.” Which was absolutely true. Even if she did, at times, feel lost and alone. “What more could I want?”
JACK COULD THINK of something he wanted. And he wouldn’t have to go far to get it, either. A quarter of an inch, half an inch max, and he’d be able to capture her mouth with his.
He didn’t move.If he moved, he’d have to touch her. And touching her was the last thing he needed to do.
He fisted his hands. Kelsey remained motionless, her full lips tipped up in a half grin, her body trapped between him and the car.
He tamped down a surge of desire. “Serenity Springs is nice. Small. Quiet.”
“You mean boring.”
“The security of knowing your neighbors more than makes up for any perceived boredom. The predictability is comforting.”
“It’s comforting to you.”
He stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “I lived in New York. Nine years of crowds, pollution and, of course, the never-ending crime.” He shook his head. “I’ll take small town any day.”
She leaned back against her car. “You’re forgetting all the good things about it. Dance clubs, museums, live theater. The bustle of the crowds.”
He snorted. “Homeless people. Worrying some lunatic is going to push you out in front of an oncoming train.”
“This town doesn’t even have a Chinese restaurant, which means no kung pao chicken or pot stickers. That’s just wrong. Not to mention un-American.”
He coughed to cover his laugh. Jack loved living here, but he knew not everyone did. A lot of people were biding their time until they could move on to better things.
Except he’d experienced the supposedly bigger and better and had found it to be neither. Besides, this was the best place to raise his daughter. She needed the security. They both did. And coming back here was what had gotten him through that first year without Nicole.
“It’s like you already said,” Kelsey continued, “you can’t do or say anything without the entire town knowing about it. Plus, they know exactly who and what you are. Even if you wanted to change, they won’t let you. What if you wanted to do something out of character? Cut loose?”
What he wanted was to nibble on her lower lip, to run his tongue over it before sucking it gently into his mouth.
And she knew it. He could see it in her eyes. The awareness.
He had to put her in her car and get the hell out of there. Before he did something totally stupid. “I don’t want to cut loose.” Maybe if he kept saying it, he’d start to believe it. “It’s getting late, you’d better go.”
Disappointment flickered in her eyes, but she straightened. “Right. Well, thanks for walking me to my car.”
He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t let her go. Not yet.
“Wait,” he said and she looked at him expectantly. “I’m not sure I trust you,” he told her.
Instead of being offended, she nodded. “Ditto.”
So why were they leaning in toward each other? Why couldn’t he stop himself from reaching for her, from placing his hands on her lower back and pulling her to him?
Her eyes widened, her pupils grew big, and though he gave her plenty of time to draw away from him, she didn’t. Their bodies met. Her hip pressed against his thigh. Heat spiraled through his body. Jack couldn’t seem to keep his hands still. He stroked her long back, moving under the edge of her shirt to caress the skin at the gentle curve of her waist.
Her skin was warm. And soft. He slowly dragged his hands up her arms and over her shoulders. She tipped her head back as he trailed his fingertips over the rise of her collarbone. Cupping her throat, he ran the rough pad of his thumb over her lower lip.
She trembled. He watched, transfixed by the movement of his thumb over that plump lip. The very tip of her tongue flicked against his skin. Dark, powerful lust punched him in the gut.
Fighting for control, he slid his hand around the back of her neck and tightened his free arm around her waist, pressing her intimately against him.
“You’re still leaving tomorrow, right?” he asked, his voice rough.
She stroked her cool fingers across the back of his neck. “First thing in the morning.”
Good. If she wasn’t going to stick around, he could appease his curiosity. He could satisfy his craving for her.
Then he’d be able to banish her from his thoughts.
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do at this moment than kiss you,” he admitted.
“You don’t trust me,” she reminded him, her hands moving up his chest and linking behind his neck.
True, but that didn’t seem to matter. Not when his hands were on her and she was looking up at him, her eyes a dark, mossy green, her body pressed against his.
Promising himself just one quick taste of her, he fisted his hand in her short hair. Some part of his brain recognized how the fragrant strands slipped through his fingers like silk, but then he lowered his mouth to hers and stopped thinking altogether.
HEART POUNDING IN ANTICIPATION, Kelsey kept her eyes open and on Jack’s as he closed the distance separating them. He brushed his lips against her mouth. Once. Twice. Three times. Her eye fluttered shut when he settled his mouth on hers.
She sighed softly. Yes. This is what she’d wanted.Contrary to the hunger that practically emanated from of him, he didn’t devour her, didn’t overwhelm her. Despite his hand on her head and his arm around her waist, he kept the kiss gentle. Soft. Controlled.
He raised his head, breaking contact. “That was a mistake.”
Kelsey lifted her heavy lids and blinked away the thick haze of desire. That was it?
Jack stared down at her, his expression hot with want, his mouth tight with tension. He began to pull back, removing his hand from under her shirt.
Oh, no. No way. She tightened her grip on him. He wasn’t going to back away now. She wouldn’t allow him to pretend that meager excuse for a kiss had been enough for him.
Damn it, she wanted satisfaction.
“Yeah, that probably was a mistake,” she agreed. And she pulled his mouth back to hers.
His deep groan reverberated against her lips. He slanted his warm mouth over hers as he took command of the kiss, deepening it until her limbs grew heavy and her head light. She was drowning in sensations, the rasp of his tongue against hers, the scrape of his whiskers on her face, the strength of his hands as they cupped her rear and held her tight to him.
She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms. Her need to get closer was so intense, she wanted to climb on top of him. Wanted to wrap herself around him, to absorb him through her skin.
The sound of music and voices floated over to them and Jack sprung away from her. Kelsey collapsed back against her car as a middle-aged couple left the bar. She watched them get into their car and pull out
of the parking lot.
She glanced up to find Jack staring at her. She couldn’t have moved even if she’d wanted to. And she didn’t want to. She wanted to reach for him, or better yet, for him to reach for her. The last thing she wanted was for this moment to end.
Still trying to catch her breath, she ran her tongue over her lips. He squeezed his eyes shut. She didn’t miss the way his chest rose and fell rapidly or how his hands were clenched into fists.
She waited until his eyes were open before speaking. “Too bad I’m leaving tomorrow. Imagine how much fun we could have if I stayed.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” he muttered and took another step back. “Goodbye, Kelsey.”
Frustrated, and—if she was being honest with herself—relieved, she straightened. She’d managed to crack Jack’s rigid control—and had the added bonus of the best kiss of her life—but he obviously didn’t want to pursue this.
Which was for the best, really. Even if she couldn’t help but wonder how good they’d be together.
Well, at least she hadn’t begged him to take her home. Which meant she still had her pride. And while pride wouldn’t keep her warm tonight, wouldn’t keep the loneliness at bay, it would help make her exit a bit more dignified.
“Goodbye, Jack.”
She got into her car, turned on the ignition and did the smartest thing she’d ever done in her life.
She drove away.
HE RUBBED THE BACK OF HIS NECK and glanced at his watch. 4:00 a.m. Jack’s grim reflection stared back at him from the large picture window in Mark and Shannon Crandall’s living room. He knew death was inevitable, just as he knew murder was inescapable. But the past few years in Serenity Springs had somehow lulled him into a false sense of security. Tonight he’d been shoved back into reality.
The house was quiet, the air thick and permeated with the coppery scent of blood.He turned slowly and took in the stark room. White walls. White carpet. White furniture. A small black end table and a matching coffee table in the center of the room. Black-and-white photos of city skylines were framed in black and lined up with military precision on the wall behind the love seat.
The only splashes of color came from a few shiny red pillows on the sofa, a dozen long-stemmed roses on the end table and the bright red apples in a black bowl on the coffee table.
And the pool of blood staining the plush carpet beneath Shannon Crandall’s head.
Jack crouched down. The position of the body—facedown between the sofa and coffee table, left leg slightly bent, arms splayed to the side—indicated she’d been hit from behind. Had she known she was in danger? Been trying to run away from her assailant?
It was obvious she was naked beneath the short, silky black robe she had on. Her pale hair was wild and tangled, matted with blood and brain matter. Jack shifted and forced himself not to cringe at the extent of damage done to Shannon’s once lovely face. He scanned the area around the body, noting several streaks of mud and a partial muddy footprint on the floor.
He straightened. “What happened?”
Officer Ben Michaels wiped a trembling hand over his mouth. “I received an emergency call approximately thirty minutes ago. I arrived at the residence and found…” His gaze dropped to the dead body on the floor, his face losing color.
“Deep breath, Michaels,” Jack commanded and physically turned the kid away from the body. Why did it seem like the least competent person in the department was always the first to arrive on the scene? “Who called it in?”
“The victim’s husband.” Michaels’s light-brown hair stood on end as if he’d repeatedly run his fingers through it. Sweat dotted his forehead and upper lip. But at least he no longer seemed in danger of puking or passing out. “He’s in the other room.”
Jack glanced at the doorway that led to the brightly lit kitchen. “Did you discover any signs of forced entry?”
“No, sir. Mr. Crandall let me in. He said he spoke to his wife on the phone around one-thirty to let her know he was coming home early from a business trip. He said the door was locked when he arrived. He used his key to gain entry, found the victim and called 911. The EMTs arrived a few minutes after I did.”
“Did anyone touch the body?” he asked, hoping no one had compromised the crime scene. “Did anyone move the body? Touch anything in the room?”
Michaels shook his head and shoved his hands into the bulky pockets of his police-issue Windbreaker. His gaze once again strayed to Shannon. “No, sir. Once the EMTs arrived and it was obvious Shan…I mean the victim was…gone…the EMTs escorted Mr. Crandall into the kitchen while I waited for backup.”
Jack nodded. Considering this was undoubtedly Michaels’s first murder scene, he’d done surprisingly well. Poor kid was taking it hard, though. Hell, the entire town was going to take the murder of one of their own hard. Serenity Springs was known for skiing, tourism and small-town charm. There was hardly a bevy of criminal activity.
Which was why Jack had returned here to raise his daughter in the first place.
Thank God Emma was with her grandparents. Knowing she was being taken care of, knowing she was safe, made it a hell of a lot easier for him to focus on his job.
Especially when his job was to track down a murderer.
“Good work,” Jack told Michaels. “Now I need you to go outside and help canvass the yard. Don’t overlook anything, no matter how insignificant it might seem.”
“Yes, sir,” Michaels said, clearly relieved.
“Medical examiner’s on his way, Chief,” Officer Nick Pascale said as he joined Jack. Unlike Michaels, the burly, gray-haired Pascale barely looked at Shannon’s body. He handed Jack the department’s camera kit. “State police have been notified as well.”
“Good. Who’s in the kitchen with Crandall?”
“Flick and the EMTs.”
Jack turned on the digital camera and recorded the date, time and his location on the front page of his notebook. “Make sure they all stay in the kitchen. I don’t want any foot traffic in this room unless it’s absolutely necessary. And if Crandall so much as has to take a piss, he’s escorted, got it?”
“Will do.” Pascale nodded toward Shannon. “Terrible thing to happen to such a pretty girl.”
Jack’s stomach twisted as he looked down at her lifeless body through the camera’s viewfinder. “Terrible thing to happen to anyone.”
Pascale lowered his voice. “The husband seems pretty shook up. You think it’s an act?”
“That’s what we need to find out, isn’t it?”
Pascale made a grunt of affirmation. Clicking the shutter, Jack flashed back to when Shannon had come on to him at The Summit. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Shannon fooled around on her husband, or that Mark preferred to turn a blind eye to his wife’s infidelities.
Had that changed tonight? Had Shannon’s unfaithfulness pushed her husband to do the unthinkable?
And what about the man Shannon had left the bar with? Had the ex-convict lost control of the violence Jack sensed lurked just beneath the surface? Dillon Ward had killed before. It wasn’t much of a stretch to think he was capable of taking a woman’s life.
As he methodically snapped pictures, Jack couldn’t help but remember the kiss he and Kelsey had shared.
He lowered the camera fractionally and clenched his jaw. Damn it, he never should have touched her.
Didn’t matter, he assured himself as he raised the camera. By the time he was through processing the scene and went to question Ward, Kelsey would be long gone.
CHAPTER FOUR
KELSEY SMOOTHED A HAND over her jittery stomach before inhaling deeply and knocking on the door to Dillon’s apartment. She’d almost left town, had made it as far as the highway before deciding to try one more time to get through to her brother. She needed to tell him how sorry she was for her part in sending him to prison.
And she needed him to listen. But, even if he did blow her off again, she wasn’t giving up. She’d simply go ba
ck to Manhattan and regroup.Lifting her hand to knock again, she heard footsteps and the door opened. Her heart sank. Dillon looked like hell. Heavy stubble coated his cheeks and chin, his eyes were bloodshot and he had a serious case of bed head.
He looked like their stepfather used to after one of his many benders.
She swallowed her disappointment. God, how she wished his life had turned out differently.
It would have turned out differently, she reminded herself, if it hadn’t been for her.
“I thought you were gone.” Dillon’s voice was husky, as if she’d woken him up. Possible, since it was barely seven-thirty on a Saturday.
“I’m leaving,” she said, pushing past him, but her entrance was ruined when she stumbled over a pair of work boots by the door. She kicked them to the side and stepped over several small clumps of mud littering the floor.
“Come on in,” he said wryly as he shut the door.
Kelsey crossed to the small, round kitchen table. “I just need ten minutes.”
“I told you yesterday—”
“Please, Dillon. I swear, after ten minutes, after you hear me out, if you still want me to leave, I’ll go. You’ll never have to see me again.”
She held her breath while he studied her. Time had matured him. Besides his broader shoulders, his face was much leaner. But his eyes, those incredible hazel eyes of his, were the same.
This was the same brother who had loved her.
“Ten minutes.” He went to the sink and began filling a coffeepot with water. “Then you’re gone.”
She pressed her lips together and sat at one of the two chairs at his table. While he measured out coffee, she looked around the apartment. It was small and sparsely furnished. No clutter on the counters, no pictures or photographs on the walls. No magnets or notes littering the refrigerator. Pretty much just like her own apartment.
And how sad was that?
“This is a nice place,” she lied.
Dillon snorted. “It’s a regular penthouse.”
