When bookseller Lindy Oliver and undercover cop Jesse Nightwalker sit down to share a pastry at the local deli, they're strangers. But as breakfast suddenly becomes a heart-stopping life-or-death ordeal, a stolen kiss changes everything between them.
Escaped convict, Tabor Hardin, blames Nightwalker for his imprisonment. With Lady Luck on his side, the brutal murderer plans to quickly gain a fortune, then make the cop pay with his life – very slowly.
Hardin's gang enters the deli in a hail of bullets, and Jesse shoves Lindy beneath a table to shield her. But as he does, he steals one hot, life-altering kiss that forms an unbreakable bond between them. Now, with someone to live for, survival takes on new meaning for both of them.
Secrets and vengeance are bound to crush any thoughts of a future between them.
Fate provides a glimmer of hope for true love, but can it last in the firestorm of this Sweet Danger?
SWEET DANGER
Cheryl Pierson
Sweet Danger by Cheryl Pierson
Smashword Edition
Copyright© 2010 Cheryl Pierson
Cover Design Livia Reasoner
Fire Star Press
www.firestarpress.com
All rights reserved.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Sweet Danger is a work of fiction.
Though actual locations may be mentioned, they are used in a fictitious manner and the events and occurrences were invented in the mind and imagination of the author except for the inclusion of actual historical facts. Similarities of characters or names used within to any person – past, present, or future – are coincidental except where actual historical characters are purposely interwoven.
Chapter One
Lindy glanced at her watch. She was going to be late. Fridays weren't usually so busy at Silverman's Deli and Bakery. She gauged the line. Four people ahead of her.
Lindy's gaze traveled over the man just ahead of her before the jolt of recognition twisted her stomach. Her neighbor, the "mystery man" from two doors down. No one else filled out a pair of faded jeans quite the way Jesse Nightwalker did—tight butt, long legs; wide shoulders, and a solid back she imagined would feel like satin over rippling steel under her hands—if she ever got that lucky.
They'd been neighbors for a year and had never done more than nod briefly and say hello as they passed in the stairwell. But she knew his name, which was different—like him. And his mailbox was next to hers.
As if he'd felt her gaze stray from the glass pastry case to his anatomy, he half-turned and met her look. His eyes were dark; nearly as black as his long, straight hair. They were warm with suppressed laughter, and he let his appraising stare linger on her lips, then move lower. A flush rose to her cheeks at the slow, taunting grin that spread across his bronze face, crinkling the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes.
She bit her lip, and looked past him, not acknowledging him or letting her eyes go to his. The elderly woman in front of him still had not decided what she wanted to order and was perusing the display case with maddening thoughtfulness.
"Miss Oliver." Jesse's voice was low, husky, with an underlying timbre of command. Try as she might, Lindy could not keep from looking at him. Not now that he'd said her name. His gaze arrested hers, and she couldn't look away. Like a schoolgirl, she stood staring up at him, barely managing a shy nod.
"Hello." Lord. Could she sound any more ill at ease?
She'd tried for months to come up with a plan to meet him. Something that wouldn't seem contrived. Now, it was happening and she sounded as stiff as glued cardboard.
"What are those?" The old woman pointed down at a raspberry Bismarck as Mr. Silverman patiently described the filling.
Jesse's smile broadened, and he leaned close to Lindy. She could smell the clean scent of his body. Like he just got out of the shower. His hair was still a little damp in the back, and he wore it long, over his collar.
"Looks like we're gonna be here a while," he said in a quiet voice.
Lindy nodded, swallowing back her uncertainty. Talk, damn it. "Uh, yeah. Only, I can't be." She glanced at her watch again. "I'm already so late—"
"Late for work? Where?"
She knew this was a conversational gambit on his part. He was just being polite. She was almost ashamed to tell him she was a clerk.
"The Corner Booksellers. I'm working there until I sell my first book." She smiled self-consciously. "You know—the 'great American novel'."
"You're a writer, huh?"
Lindy shrugged and nodded, sorry she'd mentioned it. She should have let being a clerk be enough. "Yeah—sort of. I try."
He smiled again and her heart stopped beating. "I'm impressed. What do you write?"
Lindy squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. This was the part she hated. Though she knew to expect the standard response, it still galled her when it came. "I write romance novels…and some westerns."
Jesse's look turned even more appreciative—not at all what she'd expected.
"I'll be damned." He grinned mischievously. "I like a good western. Cowboys…Indians. As for romances, I haven't read too many of those." Devilment lit his dark eyes as Lindy gave him an uncertain smile at his reference to 'cowboys and Indians'. He was obviously one of the latter. "Sold anything yet?"
Lindy shook her head, hiding her surprise at his interest. His reaction had taken her off balance. "No. Not yet."
The line moved forward. "Your turn," Lindy said softly.
Jesse turned and glanced at Abe. "Sugar ring and a cup of coffee." He turned his attention back to Lindy. "What are you having? Can I get it for you?"
"Oh, no need, thanks. I don't have time—I mean, I have to get to work. That is, if I have a job left by the time I get there."
"Huh-oh," Abe muttered. "I've only got one sugar ring left. You all are going to have to fight over it—or share it." His blue eyes twinkled as he gave a broad grin.
"Uh…" Jesse looked at the proprietor in confusion.
"He knows that's what I always order," Lindy explained. "Go ahead, though. You were first."
Jesse quirked a brow at her. "I can take something else." He turned back to Abe. "Got any cinnamon twists left?"
Abe regretfully shook his head. "Chocolate long john?"
Jesse nodded. "Okay. And give the sugar ring to Miss Oliver, here."
Abe put the long john in a bag with a napkin. "Maybe you and Miss Oliver need to be properly introduced. Lindy, this is Jesse Nightwalker. Jesse, Lindy Oliver." He handed Jesse's bag to him along with the coffee. "Why don't the two of you sit down and eat together; get to know one another."
Jesse gave him a sharp look. "How much for everything?"
Abe handed Lindy the carton of milk she always ordered, along with the bag containing her sugar ring. "That'll be three seventy-five."
Jesse laid his money on the counter, and Abe brightened once more in the face of Jesse's irritation at his crude matchmaking efforts.
"I can pay for mine," Lindy protested.
Abe handed Jesse the change from his five and winked at Lindy. "Let the man buy your breakfast, Lindy. It'd be rude to turn him down now." He nodded toward the back of the seating area. "Back window booth, Jess. Couple's just leaving."
"Thanks," Jesse answered dryly. "For everything."
Abe laughed aloud a
nd shook his head. "You're welcome, Jesse. For everything."
"I really can't sit here and eat this," Lindy said, as she followed Jesse to the booth. "I'm already late, and—"
"It's just breakfast, Lindy. Do I have a jealous boyfriend to worry about?" Jesse set his coffee and bag on the table then turned to look at her, his dark eyes filled with laughter.
"No, but—"
"Sit down, then." He took the milk and sack out of her hands. "This won't take long. I never linger over anything the Silvermans sell. It's all good."
She slid into the black leather booth. This was better. Standing, she had to look up at him. At five-six, she thought she was fairly tall for a woman, but Jesse stood at least eight inches above her. She reached for the bag with her pastry in it. "Okay, Jesse. But I have to eat quick. And you," she wagged a teasing finger, "have to help me come up with a good excuse as to why I'm late."
He sat down across from her and took a sip of his coffee. "That's easy enough."
"Are you a professional liar?" she teased.
He reached for his bag, hesitating a moment before he spoke. "I guess you could say that. Never thought about it that way, but it's accurate enough."
"What do you do? Really."
He sipped his coffee. "I work for the city."
Lindy bit into her sugar ring. Heavenly. Messy, but oddly enough, her earlier nervousness had disappeared. Jesse Nightwalker had a way of putting her at ease, and it was as if she'd known him for months. She dabbed her lips with the napkin.
He smiled at her. "Good?"
"As always. I love these things. But I only get one on Fridays. My big treat of the week." She shook her head in self-reproach.
He looked down, taking another drink of his coffee. "I'll have to remember that. I'll come stand guard 'til you get here."
There was something endearing about the way he said that. Protective. She knew she was reading too much into his words. They'd been spoken teasingly; yet, there was a hint of something in his voice that she couldn't read.
She smiled. "Yeah, I'll have to start getting out of bed sooner. I cut it too fine today. If you hadn't been so generous—"
"You'd had to have settled for"—he held up what was left of his pastry—"a chocolate long john." His eyes warmed with a secret light, his lips tugging with a mischievous grin.
Impulsively, Lindy reached across the table again to touch his hand. The warmth of his skin against her fingers almost stole her breath. Her voice was soft when she spoke. "Thanks, Jesse. That was really kind of you."
He met her eyes, and for an instant, she read something akin to desire there. No. Surely, she was wrong. They'd only just met. Her cheeks flamed hot at the thought. She wondered if he was able to discern her feelings for him as easily. But, he shrugged, and again she doubted what she'd seen.
"A pastry's a pastry." He reached for his coffee, studying her again for a moment before he said, "I've seen you at the apartments."
She'd never been so close to him. His shoulders bunched under the cotton shirt, and he shook his hair back where it fell across his eyes. When he smiled, it took her breath away, as well as her words.
"Two doors down?" He watched her over the rim of his coffee cup before setting it back on the table.
Lindy colored, realizing she hadn't replied. "Yes." She shouldered her long brown hair away from her face. "Your mailbox is right next to mine. Nightwalker – Oliver."
The corners of Jesse's sensuous lips tipped up and he gave her a faint smile. "I know."
Lindy sipped her milk, drawing a steadying breath. Steering the conversation back to him would be a safe bet. She was making a complete fool of herself. "What do you do for the city, Jesse?"
He sat back in the leather cushion, obviously at ease in his own skin and his surroundings. "I told you. Professional Liar, at your service." His long fingers wrapped around the coffee cup and he leaned forward, putting his elbow on the table.
She grimaced. What an impression to leave him with. "No, really? I shouldn't have said that. I hope you know I was just kidding."
He didn't answer right away. Finally, he put his cup down and looked directly into her eyes, as if he understood the turn her thoughts had taken. His words confirmed it. "You worry too much, Lindy." He gave a short laugh. "I'm…in law enforcement."
Lindy sat up a little straighter in the booth. She should've figured that, somehow. Undercover cop. It stood to reason, with the strange hours he kept, the self-assured way he handled himself.
"Uh-oh. Did I scare you with that?" He threw a quick glance toward the window. "Did you double park out there or something?"
She grinned at the tease. "No, not that. It was just…how you said it." She took another bite of her fast-diminishing sugar ring. "But, no, it doesn't scare me. My dad was a cop."
He laughed, a deep rich sound of happiness. "So, you had me made already, Miss Oliver? Just testing? Trying to see if I was exercising my…um, superb lying skills…on you?"
Something in his tone made her realize this was unfamiliar territory to Jesse Nightwalker. As sure of himself as he seemed, the way he teased her was something he wasn't used to, something he hadn't done in a while.
A rush of warmth surged through Lindy. Had he been hurt? Jilted? She knew lots of undercover cops preferred not to get involved in relationships so they would not have the fear of reprisal hanging over them from the criminals they busted. She shook her head. "No. You're good. I had no idea you were a cop. Just figured you weren't a meter reader. But there's a lot in between." She waited a moment, then went on. "The rest of the story is…something you don't want to talk about. So, I will assume your job is something we need to stay away from."
"For now, anyway. You okay with that?"
Her heart leapt in her chest. 'For now,' he had said. She nodded and gave him a half-grin. "For now." She toyed with her milk carton. She needed to go. She probably wasn't going to have a job when she got to the bookstore, but she didn't want to leave. This chance might never come again. "Have you come up with my lie? I need a lie, Jesse. A good one. I should've been there fifteen minutes ago."
"Car trouble?"
She pulled a face. "That's old. Everyone uses that. Besides, they know I usually walk if the weather's decent."
Jesse looked past her, his smile fading rapidly. As the flash of worry entered his expression, Lindy became aware of a sudden lull in the noisy racket of the deli. Jesse's dark gaze was locked on the front door, a scowl twisting his features.
"Damn it," he swore, reaching for her hand. "Get down! Under the table, Lindy…"
But she hesitated a second too long, not understanding what was happening. In the next instant, the sound of semi-automatic gunfire and shattering glass filled the air.
Lindy reflexively ducked, covering her head. The zing of a bullet fanned her cheek as Jesse dragged her down beneath the sparse cover of the small table. He shielded her, his hard body crushing against her, on top of her, pushing her to the floor. The breath rushed out of her, and she felt the hard bulge of the shoulder holster he wore beneath the denim jacket as it pressed against her back.
Her heart pounded wildly, realization of their situation flooding through her. A robbery! But why, at this hour of the morning when the take would be so low? The gunfire stopped as abruptly as it had started.
From somewhere near the counter, a man shouted, "Come out and you won't be hurt! Come out—now!"
Lindy looked up into Jesse's face, scant inches from her own. What would he do? They were somewhat concealed here at the back of the deli, but these men sported semi-automatic weapons.
"There's a back door," Jesse whispered raggedly. "Get the hell out of here. I'm gonna be your diversion."
She didn't answer; couldn't answer. He was likely to be killed, helping her go free.
He gave her a slight shake. "Okay?"
An interminable moment passed between them before she finally nodded. "Get going as soon as I get their attention." He reached to brush a st
rand of hair out of her eyes, his own gaze softening as he leaned toward her and closed the gap between them. "Take care of yourself, Lindy," he whispered, just before his mouth closed over hers.
The instant their lips met shook her solidly. Every coherent thought fled, leaving nothing but the smoldering touch of his lips on hers, burning like wildfire through her mind. Soft, yet firm. Insistent and insolent. His teeth skimmed her lower lip, followed by his tongue, as he tasted her. Then, he pulled away from her, their eyes connecting for a heart-wrenching second.
"Safe passage," he whispered.
Lindy didn't answer, more stunned by the sudden sweet kiss than by the madness surrounding them.
Jesse pushed himself out from under the table and stood up, directly in front of where Lindy crouched. Only then did she hear his muted groan of pain, his sharp, hissing intake of breath. The blossoming red stain of crimson contrasted starkly with the pale blue of his faded denim jacket as his blood sprang from the bullet wound, soaking the material.
He'd been shot!
Lindy gasped softly at the realization. How could she leave him now? He was hurt. Somehow, it didn't seem right for her to escape, to leave him to deal with these men while he was bleeding.
Jesse hesitated.
Lindy couldn't be sure if it was intentional, or if the agony of the hole in his shoulder kept him still for that extra instant before he slowly walked away from the table, his hands up.
Lindy crept forward. Looking past where Jesse stood, halfway between her and the front of the deli, she caught her first good look at the leader of the small band of thieves. He stood close to the counter, his hair spiking in thin blond tufts, his stance indicating he was ready for anything. From the carnage around him, his cocksure attitude was warranted.
Three of his gang stood near the entrance, guns held on the few patrons who hadn't managed to get out the door. The leader's Glock was trained on Jesse's midsection, a wide grin on his pale face. Then, he began to laugh, the gun holding steady through it all. "Jesse Nightwalker, as I live and breathe."
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