“What?” He looked at the helmet too. “It’s never been used, if you’re worried about cooties. My bike came with that one.”
“And you never used it?”
“Nah, already bought this one.” He patted his own personalized one under his arm. “So put it on.”
“This is it? You don’t have anything cooler?”
He slid his shades off, slipped them in the pocket of his jacket, and positioned his own helmet over his head. “Sorry, no. I didn’t realize we were attending a headgear fashion show. It’s the only spare I have. And you don’t ride without a helmet.” When she just stared at it, he reached for it. “If you don’t want to ride, I can just take it—”
“No.” She held the helmet out of reach. “I want to.” Then she sighed but smiled as she turned her back toward him to put it on. He brought an extra helmet just for her. It might be such a simple act, but it meant a great deal that he’d come specifically to get her for a ride. Not just passing by and stopping in on a whim. Not killing time and only popping over for a few minutes. He left his apartment specifically with her in mind.
And her heart swelled just a little at the thought.
Helmet on, she fumbled a minute with the chinstrap until he stepped around her and pushed her fingers away. “You’ll make a mess out of it. Let me do it.”
She tilted her head to the side so he could see what he was doing. His fingers, not yet in gloves, brushed the sensitive skin under her chin and down her throat. If she didn’t know better—and she wasn’t sure what she knew anymore—she would have said he was doing it on purpose. Stroking her, feeling her skin, making her nerve endings stand up at attention all under the guise of helping her with her chinstrap. But that wasn’t really Jeremy’s style.
Was it?
She gave him a glance, but his eyes remained on his fingers as they snapped the strap in place. Then he gave her a grin and a quick pat on the top of the helmet. “All secure. Let’s ride.”
She’d been waiting for just such an invitation for longer than he knew.
***
Jeremy waited until she climbed up behind him, chuckling under his breath at the effort it took. She was athletic, and not a wuss, but she was short and unaccustomed to the motion. Her leg hitched up and she almost toppled over before he grabbed her and pulled her up.
“They really should think of the short people,” she grumbled, voice muffled through the helmets.
“Just hold on tight, and stay aware until you pick up the rhythm. Don’t zone out.” Which was all too easy to do, he knew, when you weren’t the one driving. But just his luck, she’d veer left when he was turning right… He started the bike, any idea of conversation lost under the roar of the engine.
The feel of Madison behind him on his bike was one of the most erotic things he’d ever experienced. Her thighs clenched around the outside of his. Her arms wrapped around his waist like a big hug, hands splayed over his stomach. They twitched ever so slightly against his muscles when he leaned into a turn or made a stop, making him want them to creep lower. Her breasts pressed into his back like soft pillows.
But her head. Damn it, her head. Despite the helmet protecting her, he felt her lower her cheek to his back, between his shoulder blades, resting comfortably against him, almost like she was ready to take a nap. Completely trusting him with her safety and well-being. Submitting to his protection.
God dammit. The whole ride was undoing him. And he put himself in the position on purpose, of all things. Because try as he might—and oh, he’d tried—he couldn’t stay away. Couldn’t deny himself these little moments of Madison. Of her total attention. Of pretending, even for a few minutes, that there was something more between them.
He leaned into a turn as they exited, heading for a park he knew was nearby. One that would be empty now, as people were still at church or just waking up from sleeping in. Then her hands clenched around his shirt again, and he groaned. Because she couldn’t hear him anyway, so why hold in the sounds of pleasant torture?
They slowed as he approached the semi-hidden park that was often neglected by the city. Every few months, someone would come in and do a half-ass job of mowing the area, taking a weed whacker to the areas just around the playground equipment and leaving the rest virtually untouched. Rare was the time he’d come here and find someone else around. And, as he predicted, the area was completely empty as he guided his motorcycle down the narrow dirt lane that led to the playground area, along with a few picnic benches.
Perfect place for his own fictional detective to come when he needed a little quiet reflection to work through the clues leading up to the first of what he hoped to be many successful cases.
Her hands clutched in his shirt once more as he pulled to a complete stop and cut the engine. She held on a moment longer than necessary before letting go.
It was sinful, just feeling it over the cotton of his T-shirt and his jacket. What those hands would be like on his own bare skin…
Madison slid off the back of the motorcycle and unsnapped her helmet, leaning over to shake out her hair that had flattened down. Jeremy enjoyed the backside view in her jeans before she stood straight again and handed him the helmet.
“What is this place?”
He removed his own helmet and set them on the seat, leaving his jacket draped over the seat, and walked behind her into the playground area. It’d been a few weeks since the last mowing, and thanks to the recent rains, the grass was tall. They high-stepped over to the first picnic bench where Madison hopped up and sat on the table, feet resting on the bench below.
“Just a playground. Doesn’t get much use.”
She eyed the grass warily. “No kidding. You could lose a toddler in the landscape. Why are we here?”
He shrugged, not entirely sure why he brought her to his thinking spot. “Just some place I go when I need a little time away.”
“You live by yourself; you could have time away in the comfort of your own apartment,” she pointed out as he sat down next to her.
He smiled. Whereas he liked his space, Madison was one who loved people, loved being surrounded by noise and activity and friendship and conversation. Hell, she had her own nice apartment all to herself, and she went and ruined it—to his mind—by getting a roommate. To her, the idea of needing time alone to recharge some mental battery would be absurd. “Yeah, that’s true. But sometimes you just need to step outside of your own area and get a better look at things. You know?”
“Things like what?”
To share or not to share… That was more than just a question. It was a possible life-changing decision. If he told her about his writing, it would seem more real. More serious. More like something he could fail at, rather than just a hobby that didn’t matter much.
Not to mention, it would possibly put up one last barrier between them. What if she mocked his ideas? Thought it was a worthless idea, like his father. Told him to give it up, get his head out of his ass and concentrate on his career in the Marines…
But what if she wouldn’t? No, he decided. She wouldn’t. He knew that. And he trusted her. “I like to write.”
She bumped his shoulder with hers. “I know that.”
“You do?” he asked, surprised. Glancing at her, he took in the way she lounged back on her hands, heels kicking out in a childlike arc that made him want to smile.
“Yeah. Of course. You were always jotting stuff down somewhere. Thinking hard. Making notes. Your notebook is never far away. I sort of put two and two together.”
If she was able to put it together… had Dwayne? Tim? The thought of them knowing, of them possibly joking about it even in a friendly way, made him want to throw up.
As if she could read his mind, she rubbed a hand over his knee. “No. They can’t add up. I don’t think Tim or Dwayne would know anything unless it
was right in front of their faces, God love them. I’m sure they haven’t noticed.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s just personal. At least now.”
“What do you write?”
“Mysteries. Detective stuff. Nothing much.” He shrugged, but when she frowned he asked, “What?”
“I wish you wouldn’t do that. It’s obviously important to you. So why do you put it down like it’s nothing? It matters to you, so it’s something.”
Nailed him. “Habit, I guess. You don’t want people to know what you’re writing in case it sucks or you never make anything of it. Easier than having to relive rejection over again with your friends.”
She nodded, then stared into the distance. “Thanks for telling me. I always wondered how long you would keep it a secret.”
“Forever,” he joked, and she laughed. Before he could think of what else to say, she jumped down and raced across the small field toward the playground equipment, her short legs looking five kinds of ridiculous the way she kept her knees up high to wade through the grass.
He followed at an easy lope, his longer legs not having nearly as much trouble as she did with the terrain. By the time he caught up to her, she was halfway to the top of the dome-shaped climbing bars. He followed without a word, smiling the whole time. And when he reached the top he sat next to her, hooking his knees through the bars and letting his feet in their heavy boots dangle.
She watched the clouds float by in silence, as if that was the only plan for the entire day. And she took his hand, lacing her fingers between his, and simply sat. Not making a move, not trying to play hard to get. Existing. As if this was just how they spent every Sunday morning. Being lazy at the playground, being with each other, soaking in the other’s presence.
It was something he could get used to. Not that he should.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she reached for it automatically. He wasn’t offended; he’d have done the same thing. In their line of work, not checking a message could mean serious problems.
When she sighed and flipped the phone closed again, he squeezed her hand. “Something wrong?”
“Yeah. I totally forgot to make Veronica a set of keys for the storage unit, and she needs to leave soon for work. I guess some of her work clothes got put in the storage by accident. So I need to be there to unlock the door.” She gave him a wistful look, eyes full of emotion and zero guile. “I don’t want to leave yet.”
He smoothed a few strands behind her ears. “I know. Neither do I.”
Taking the risk to his heart, he leaned in and brushed a kiss over her lips. Just one, as light as possible. But enough to let her know where his head was.
She smiled, eyes darkening just a little, lids lowering a fraction. “Damn keys.” Then, with one more sigh, she started to climb back down. “Can you run me by a hardware store to get a second copy made? I can’t believe I forgot to make the storage key duplicate when I made the apartment and mailbox key.”
“No problem.” He walked with her back to the motorcycle, laughing silently as she hopped around the taller weeds like a doe. The woman had more energy and spunk than anyone he knew. And she invigorated him, just by being near her. Like an emotional battery charger.
Soon enough, it would work the opposite way. Being near her, around her, beside her without sleeping with her… it would drain him. How much longer could he keep this up?
Chapter 10
Madison reluctantly unclenched her hands from around Jeremy’s waist as the motorcycle slowed to a stop in her parking lot. Damn, that was over way too soon. Not just having an excuse to wrap her arms around Jeremy, press against him, feel him move over and around her. But the actual thrill of riding on the back of the bike itself. She’d never been on one, though God knows how, since every third Marine owned one, and she was friends with dozens of them.
Just another first she shared with Jeremy. Maybe that’s why she’d never been on one before. More special this way.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
Okay, that wasn’t special talk. “What?”
“Your brother’s here. That’s his car.”
She hopped off the bike, nearly pitched forward when her foot caught on the seat, and righted herself against the SUV next to her. Dammit. They really didn’t think about the short people when they made these things. “Where?” She turned, her peripheral vision hampered by the clunky helmet. But Jeremy quickly leaned over and unsnapped the helmet, pulling it off so she could see on the other side of the parking lot where her brother’s car sat, empty.
“Yeah. That’s his. The guy has fantastic timing.” She shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair in a vain attempt to fluff up the flat strands. Not that it worked. Stupid hair.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’m just gonna head out. You okay to go up by yourself?” Jeremy looked uncomfortable, though she couldn’t tell if it was because of her brother being there, or because this felt almost like the end of a casual date and he had no clue how to close the deal.
Probably a combination of the two, which made him twice the fool.
“I’m fine. I came down myself, I’ll go back up.” Before he could get any ideas about making a smooth getaway, she leaned over and gave him a kiss to curl both their toes. Shockingly, he didn’t pull away. But he didn’t lean in either, didn’t give back. That was fine. He was exempt from PDA. This time.
She waited as he backed his bike away from the curb and pulled out of the parking lot. Just as she was about to turn away, she noticed him lift one hand up in a backwards wave before turning the corner out of sight. That one wave, though it might seem pathetic to some, made her feel almost as mushy and happy as the kiss did. With light feet and a lighter heart, she skipped up the apartment steps until she reached her apartment door and walked through.
“Hey, squirt.” Right on cue, Tim stood from her couch and gave her a once-over. “Where’ve you been?”
“Oh you know, hot date with a guy on a motorcycle,” she said airily as she walked into the kitchen.
“What?” Tim’s voice sharpened, then he chuckled. “Ah, yeah. One of Hell’s Angels, right?”
“Sure,” she played along as she grabbed a bottle of water. “You know me. I live to be someone’s old lady on the back of a chopper. Thinking of getting Bubba’s name tattooed on my arm.”
“Nice.” He looked at her once again. “You look different.” Then he shook his head and shrugged. “Anyway, I was just coming over to apologize again to Veronica for not being around to help out with the furniture and see how it went. Jeremy said it all went okay.”
“Yup. Furniture’s good to go. It was easy construction, once we figured out the whole garbled instructions. I swear, it looks like English but it reads like some dead language.”
Veronica breezed past like a cartoon puff of smoke. “Hey, Madison. Thanks for coming back. Totally forgot I didn’t have a key to the storage locker.”
“Wait! Here.” She held the brand-new copy out before the puff of smoke formally known as her roommate walked out the door. “My fault I didn’t have that one ready for you. That should take care of it.”
Veronica snatched the key from her hand and walked out the door, closing it hastily behind her.
Tim’s mouth gaped open. “Was that actually Veronica? I think that’s the first time she’s ever used so many contractions at one time. And she was completely rushed. Didn’t even say—”
The door cracked open and Veronica’s head poked back in. She gave them both a shy smile and softly said, “Thank you,” before closing the door behind her once more, only softer this time.
Madison smirked at her brother. “You were saying?”
Tim shrugged. “She’s changing, but for the better.”
“I totally agree.” Taking her water, she headed
back into the living room, unzipping her jacket and letting it fall to the floor behind her as she walked.
Tim scoffed and picked it up, draping it over the back of the couch as she plopped down on the love seat. He was changing for the better too… but small glimpses of the neat freak still shone through on occasion.
She gestured to the cushion next to her. “Gonna sit down for a bit?”
“Nah, I haven’t seen Skye today. She was at work this afternoon when I got home, so I just showered and ran over here quickly. Wanted to make sure there wasn’t any leftover stuff you needed help with after the big move.”
“Jeremy took care of it all,” she assured him.
“Good guy.” Tim toyed with the zipper of her jacket for a minute, as if lost in thought.
“Something on your mind, bro?”
He sighed and smoothed the jacket back down. “Just Jeremy. Something’s going on with him lately, and I can’t figure it out. He’s moping around more than his usual delightfully sullen self.”
Caution, swimmers. Choppy waters ahead. “Maybe he just worries about D. It’s weird not being over there to watch your buddy’s back.”
“Maybe.” But he didn’t look convinced. “Anyway, thanks for not caring about the change in plans on Jeremy helping instead of me.”
“No problem. Glad he could make time for us.”
“He’ll always have time for you. Dwayne, too. You’re their little sister as much as mine. They’d do anything for you.” With that, Tim leaned over to give her a quick, absent kiss on the cheek before walking out, giving a cursory, “Lock this behind me,” as he went. Always the big brother.
“Little sister, my ass,” she mumbled as she stood to go lock the door. “That is not how he kisses me, bro.”
And with that smug smile, Madison went to go take a nap before her week of late-night shifts began.
***
“Spill the beans, oh satisfied one.” Matthew nudged her as she stood by the main desk on the OB floor.
Officer Breaks the Rules (Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.) Page 12
