But other than his brain, the rest of him thought kissing her was a stellar idea. In fact, the rest of him thought it was absolutely necessary to take everything she was offering and more.
She hesitated a moment, probably because her brain was making the same argument as his. "How wrong is this?"
The answer was easy. "Really wrong."
Lexie seemed to consider that. And she shrugged. "To heck with it."
"To heck with it?" Garrett repeated, mentally groaning. One of them needed to play the responsible part here, and judging from what she'd said, it wasn't going to be Lexie.
"We've had a rough day," she argued. "This'll help."
No, it wouldn't. He knew it. She knew it.
But did that stop them?
Of course not.
She slid her arms around his neck. Garrett did some sliding as well. He hooked his arm around her waist and hauled her to him.
Logic went straight out the window.
He couldn't think. He didn't want to think. But, man, he could feel. Lexie's mouth was soft against his. And she tasted not like mint and tears, but like something hot and forbidden. Garrett decided that he'd take that taste over mint and tears any day.
Their tongues touched. It seemed to break down what few barriers they had left. The kiss became more than a simple taste. More than a simple act of passion. He took her mouth as if he owned it, and she didn't exactly resist the idea. She staked her own claim to his mouth.
Her breasts pressed against his chest, and the rest of their bodies began to adjust to the need that the kiss was igniting inside them. Almost frantically, they tugged at each other, and to further prove that he no longer had a logical thought in his head, Garrett pulled Lexie onto his lap.
She did her part to escalate what was happening between them. Her fingers went into his hair, dragging him closer. A lot closer. She slid her legs to cradle his hips. He held her hips as she moved forward, just as he did.
Garrett could have sworn he saw stars. Maybe even a constellation or two. The fit was mind-blowing, and her body seemed to welcome him. His body welcomed her, too, and he responded in the most basic male way. He got one heck of an erection, and even though his brain was still trying to urge him toward common sense, that erection had its own ideas.
So did he.
And what he wanted more than anything was Lexie.
Lexie had the same idea. She slid her hand between them, fumbling for his zipper.
Garrett knew one more move, and he'd be lost. Maybe forever.
Chapter Eleven
Garrett froze.
Lexie froze, too, wondering if someone was breaking into the safe house. With her heart racing and her body revved, it would have been difficult to hear something even that monumental. But though she lifted her head and listened, she couldn't hear anything alarming.
Until Garrett spoke.
"You're not supposed to have sex," he explained.
Oh, yes.
That.
That was indeed alarming. Because he looked so good and because she no longer just wanted him, she needed him. She ached for him. She tried to come up with an interpretation of the doctor's orders that would allow them to do what they both obviously wanted, but there wasn't even a loophole.
He glanced down at where their bodies were pressed so hard against each other, and eased back. "Did I hurt you?"
She laughed. It was short-lived, more a laugh of frustration than humor. "You didn't hurt me." Lexie shook her head, moved off his lap and dropped back onto the sofa.
First there was the crying spell. Then the soul-baring conversation, where she'd admitted things that were probably best left unsaid. Of course, the reason she hadn't left them unsaid was because she wanted to have sex with him. It'd hit like a ton of bricks, or rather a ton of passion, when he'd tried to comfort her. The closeness. The way she felt in his arms. His scent.
Mercy.
That scent had her hormonal number.
Anyway, that's why she'd started to babble. Lexie figured if she talked until her jaw went numb she might not do something stupid—like kiss him.
"We just had one of those mindless episodes," she admitted, then paused. Tried not to continue to speak about yet more things best left unspoken. But her mouth didn't cooperate. "Was it always like that between us?"
"Always."
Something passed through his eyes. Regret, maybe? And he inched back, away from her. The passion they'd shared just seconds earlier seemed to evaporate, and the walls were back up between them.
Which was good.
They needed walls. Heaven knew they needed something. Anything. Because of her broken memories, she really didn't know him that well. Even though her body seemed to have no trouble remembering him.
"That was a mistake." She tried not to make it sound like a question.
It was a mistake. It had to be. The timing was lousy. Garrett and she were both exhausted from the stress and the uncertainty. That was it—the reason they'd responded as they had.
And Lexie was almost certain she believed that.
He got up and went into the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water. "I've made a lot of mistakes with you."
His comment sounded like more than wall-erecting. It was the comment of a man who felt guilty. Not just about kissing her, either.
"We're not going through that whole thing about you nearly getting me killed, are we?" she asked rhetorically. "Because I nearly got you killed by coming to your house. If you're keeping score, that makes us even."
"No. It doesn't."
Lexie huffed and decided it was time to nip this in the bud. "I won't let you beat yourself up. I know that kiss pushed limits." She winced. Even she couldn't downplay it that much. "Okay, so it was more than a kiss, and it didn't just push limits. It bulldozed them. That's still no reason for you to feel guilty."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Oh, yeah," she countered. "You've done everything you possibly could to keep me at arm's length. And to keep me alive." She knew she was babbling again. Why couldn't she stop? Hoping for a truthful, hasty conclusion to this babblefest, Lexie said, "You're a good cop."
"Many wouldn't agree." He answered so easily, so adamantly, that it was clear someone had convinced him that he didn't qualify as a good cop.
She didn't know who these naysayers were, but she didn't care much for them. "Then those many are wrong. I've been with you, Garrett. I've watched you work. You're very good at what you do."
He stared at her. "You don't remember me telling you much about my family, do you?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "My folks are retired cops. Both highly decorated. My mom collared a serial killer when she was a rookie, and she wasn't even working Homicide. Dad has an entire desk filled with awards because he had an eerie knack for saving people. Brayden was the youngest cop at headquarters to make lieutenant. Katelyn was the youngest female to make sergeant."
Lexie shrugged, unsure of where this was leading. "You obviously come from a family of high achievers."
"Yeah, and I'm not one of them."
Lexie almost babbled again. She almost voiced the argument she'd already expressed—that he was very good. But Garrett needed to get things off his chest.
"When there's a hostage situation, they call in Brayden. Calm under pressure. Smart. He could negotiate with Satan—and win," Garrett continued. "And my sister, Katelyn—she's the one you want in an interrogation room to get a legitimate confession. Me? I'm the one they ask to kick in doors of crack houses."
So this was where it was leading.
"If the doors aren't kicked down, the cops can't get inside to arrest the bad guys." Lexie went to him, grabbed his chin and forced eye contact. "If you're trying to warn me of your shortcomings, don't bother. Because you see, you've got something your siblings and your parents don't have. You have a child out there, and your desire to find her makes you the perfect man for the job."
He stared at her. And stared. By degrees, she saw her words
truly sink in. "Thanks for the reminder. And I won't let you or our baby down. No failing this time."
He stepped away from her and picked up a notepad and pen from the counter bar that divided the living area from the kitchen. "We have too many things we need to be working on, and kissing and whining about accomplishments aren't on the list."
He didn't wait for her to challenge that. Nor did he give her a moment of regret for the kisses they weren't likely to share anytime soon. He wrote Dr. Darnell's name across the top of the page. "He's the key to finding our baby."
"I agree." And seeing Darnell's name was the exact jolt of reality Lexie needed. "Because even if Billy Avery is behind this, Dr. Darnell could be working for him. Plus, I have no doubts that the doctor knows where our baby was taken."
Garrett wrote Billy Avery's name beneath Dr. Darnell's, staring at the paper as though hoping the answers would simply appear. Lexie tried to force some answers into her brain as well. She focused on the two men and willed herself to remember any clues that might be hidden in her broken memories.
And she saw something.
Not Avery or Dr. Darnell. What she saw was Garrett. Naked. Of course, she'd seen him naked the night she broke into his house and held him at gunpoint. But this was different.
She was naked in his arms, and they were tangled around each other. On a coffee table in a hotel room.
"What's wrong?" Garrett asked.
Lexie blinked hard to force away those images, but they stayed, right there in front of her.
"You're breathing hard," he pointed out. "And you look flushed."
Oh, she didn't doubt either of those things. The images were so real that she could feel him inside her. Every inch of him.
And sweet mercy, it felt good.
He hadn't been gentle. She hadn't wanted that from him. She'd wanted him. Then. There. Immediately. And he'd accommodated her.
"What's wrong?" he repeated.
"Nothing." Though how she'd managed to answer him was a mystery.
"Did you remember something else?" Garrett demanded.
She shook her head. "Nothing important."
"The expression on your face tells me differently."
He obviously wasn't going to let this drop, but Lexie figured it wasn't a good idea for them to discuss sex. Not after that mind-blowing kissing session and their resolution to dig for the truth.
"The memories are trickling in," she explained. She paused. Cleared her throat. "At least I think they're memories. About us."
Sheez, she hoped they weren't fantasies.
"Tell me," Garrett insisted. Though he didn't look exactly pleased about rehashing this. "I'll let you know if it really happened."
Lexie decided it was best to confess as quickly as possible. "A coffee table. A hotel room. You and me. You have a small dragon tattoo on your left shoulder."
She wouldn't mention the matching one on his toned left butt cheek.
He waited a moment that seemed an eternity, then nodded. "It's real. The tattoos are relics of a wild and crazy weekend I spent with my brother in Mexico. There was lots of tequila involved."
Okay. So that part was confirmed. "And the rest is real as well?"
"I can guarantee it."
Wow. That gave her a lot to think about, especially since the memories just kept coming.
And she felt herself near the breaking point.
Thankfully, the memories broke up. She saw snippets of the two of them dressing. There was a phone call. For her.
"I started crying," she said.
"Yes." His voice sounded different, and she lifted her eyes to meet his. "Because you found out that your father had died."
Lexie's breath shattered and pain stabbed through her heart. Her father. He'd been frail for years, left that way after a stroke. But he'd been alive and in a nursing home. He'd been a part of her life.
Until that day.
The memories came like bullets. Hitting her. Hurting her. "You knew my father was dead?"
"Yes. And I didn't tell you."
Lexie had just enough of the memories to fill in the blanks. "You didn't tell me because I would have been too upset to testify. You kept his death from me."
She moved away from him. As far as she could get. Because it hurt as if it the wounds were fresh.
"Your testimony would have assured a conviction," Garrett admitted. "And I put that above what you needed to know—that your father was dead."
Lexie nodded frantically. "That's why we argued. That's why I left."
"That's why you left."
She waited a moment. Her hands were trembling now. She figured it wouldn't be long before all of her was trembling. "I need some time," she managed to say, and she started toward the bedroom. She intended to go inside and duck under the covers for a while. She needed to think about this, to sort it all out.
But the phone rang, just as it had in her memory.
Garrett glanced at her. It seemed as if he was going to say something, but instead, he turned and pressed the speaker function on the phone. "O'Malley."
"It's Mason Tanner," said the man on the other end of the line.
It was the P.I. Garrett had hired, and Lexie knew her grieving and pain would have to wait. This call could be critical.
"What do you have for us, Mason?" Garrett asked.
"I found Dr. Andrew Darnell. He's living in an upscale neighborhood just off the intersection of San Pedro and Highway 1604. I think Darnell's your man. I haven't been able to dig too deep yet, but I'm positive he's up to his neck in illegal adoptions."
Lexie gave up trying to force her legs to support her. She leaned against the bedroom door.
"Define illegal."
"From just the preliminary stuff, he seems to be involved in providing very wealthy clients with speedy adoptions. These clients pay him lots of money for healthy infants, and I don't think the good doctor cares much if the birth mothers voluntarily participate in his project. In fact, I think he's using a women's shelter and several homes for unwed mothers as his own personal baby farms."
It took Lexie a moment to process the information. "So, the children aren't being harmed?" she asked.
"No way. Darnell's clients want healthy, well cared for babies. It's my guess that if he has your daughter, then she's being treated like royalty."
Unlike the way the doctor treated the birth mothers. God, how many had he killed or tried to kill? Lexie probably wasn't the first. Nor would she be the last, unless they did something to stop him.
"How long before the babies go to the adoptive parents?" Lexie asked.
"I've only traced one paper trail. It was for a newborn boy six months ago, and it took Darnell about a month to place him with his new family."
A month. Since their baby was already three and a half weeks old, that didn't give them much time. A week at best. And it broke her heart to have to admit that it might already be too late. Her baby might have already been adopted, and if so, it could possibly mean a lengthy investigation and a legal battle to get the child back from the adoptive parents. Still, she couldn't dwell on that. She had to focus on what she could control, and getting the truth out of Darnell was a real possibility.
"I'm having my staff go through as many of Darnell's records and computer files as we can get our hands on," the P.I. continued. "My advice? Don't ask how we came across these files. I've tried to preserve the originals in case they're needed for evidence. But there's a possibility they won't be admissible. I didn't think you'd want me to wait around until Darnell finds a way to hide or destroy them."
"You did the right thing," Garrett assured him. "I'd like copies of those files."
"I'll have someone courier them over. Might not be today, though. I think we're getting close. If there's anything to find in these files, we'll find it. I'll also arrange to have someone put Darnell under surveillance."
"I'll handle surveillance," Garrett insisted.
The P.I. paused. "You think that's wise?"
/>
Garrett made a sound of frustration. "I have to do something, Mason. I can't let that SOB give our child to someone else."
"That's what I thought you'd say. Be careful."
"I will." Garrett reached for his shoulder holster and weapon. "We need a rental car," he said to the P.I. "That way, I don't have to wait around for the department to issue me another unmarked vehicle." He looked back at Lexie. "Get your shoes."
But she was one step ahead of him. "I'm going with you to Darnell's."
"Absolutely. I can't leave you here by yourself. Hurry," he added.
Garrett lowered his voice and said something else to the P.I.
Something about her father.
She nearly stopped the shoe search to ask what that was all about, but time was critical.
If they didn't find Darnell right away, then they might never see their child.
Chapter Twelve
"That's Darnell's house," Lexie verified, checking the address that the P.I. had given them.
Garrett parked their car just up the street, so that Darnell's front door and garage were visible in case the doctor spotted them, got suspicious and tried to run. They had already made sure he was home. Pretending to be a telemarketer, Garrett had called the house, and Dr. Andrew Darnell had taken the call.
"I want to bash in his door," Garrett grumbled.
"I wouldn't mind doing some bashing myself," Lexie concurred. She was fidgeting. Checking her gun. Rechecking it. "Do you think he has the baby in there with him?"
"It's possible, but doubtful. Darnell would probably want to be one step removed from the evidence that could get his butt arrested."
But there was no mistake—one way or another, Garrett intended to arrest the man, and he would do whatever it took to get a full confession. That confession would include telling them the whereabouts of the baby.
"I can't just sit here," Lexie informed him.
"You might not have a choice. He might recognize you."
Another gun check. "So, what do we do?"
It was the million dollar question. Garrett had gone through several possible scenarios, and he didn't like any of them.
"We wait about a half hour until it's dark," he told her. "And then I have a look around his house. Well, I'll look through his windows, anyway. I'll check to see if he's armed. Make sure he's alone. If he is, then I'll ring the doorbell, introduce myself and have a little chat with him. I want to hear what he has to say, since I'm pretty sure Darnell is the right man."
The Cradle Files Page 9
