It was somewhere around two a.m. when she awoke to an unusual sound, a crackle. Since the apartment was a converted two-car garage behind the main house and away from the road, noise was at a minimum. A pop followed, and the smell of smoke, further confusing her sleepy brain.
By the time she got to the bedroom door, the sounds were coming fast and recognition caused panic. She felt the door handle, and slowly eased the panel open.
Fire!
Smoke poured in and she slammed the door closed. Racing for the bed, she pulled her duffel out from under the frame. Inside were her gun and her PI kit. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand. Trying to remain calm, she went to the window, pushed it up and open, and tossed her things out onto the cement sidewalk that circled the garage. She then followed, hanging onto the window frame to steady herself, hoping the smoke inhalation wouldn’t cause any lasting damage.
Once outside, she called 9-1-1. Then she called Wheeler.
“Come over, now!” Calm had lost the battle. She shouted out her address and hung up.
Her landlord was out of the country and Jess sent a text while watching smoke wind its way out through once invisible cracks in the roof. Her heart sank. Although the apartment had nothing of real value inside, what she did have, she wanted to keep.
Sirens screamed in the distance. Soon, the yard was full of firemen, and neighbors from the surrounding houses gathered along the fence line. She stood in the shadow of the big house as the firefighters did their best to save the garage. But she knew it was gone.
By the time Wheeler found her there a few minutes later, she didn’t realize she was crying until he zipped her into his hoodie and pulled her into his arms.
“The smoke detector didn’t go off. Why didn’t it go off?”
He held her until the flames were tamped down. The place was so small that it didn’t take long for the blaze to finish the structure and the firemen to put it out.
The fire marshal had questions and Jess numbly answered them, all while Wheeler silently held her hand. Then he bundled her and her duffel in his SUV and drove her to his home.
“You’ll stay with me for now.”
She wanted to argue but couldn’t find the energy. He tucked her into a dark bedroom and pulled a comforter over her as she shivered. She was so tired. So cold. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was his hand holding hers.
* * *
Sam stood next to the bed and made sure she was sleeping before he headed out to his garage and pounded the punching bag that hung from the rafters until his arms shook with fatigue.
The fire had been no accident. He’d seen the half melted pair of gas cans sitting near the corner of the apartment. It was unlikely they’d be stored outside in the elements like that.
Jess and her violet eyes could have died.
Never in his life did he want to kill someone as he did now. Even his old partner who almost ruined his life didn’t rise to the level of anger that filled him with such searing heat.
He pounded the bag until the rage fled, then went back into the house, wiping sweat off his face with the hem of his T-shirt. Jess was sleeping, exhausted from her ordeal. He went to the kitchen for a beer and a chair and took both back to his bedroom. He sat next to the bed, popped the cap, and waited for her nightmares to begin.
* * *
Jess startled awake sometime later to a hall light illuminating the room where Wheeler had deposited her. A clock beside the bed said five a.m. She’d only slept for a little over an hour, but it seemed like much longer. The smell of smoke clung to her hair and PJ’s and she wondered if it would ever wash out.
Turning the other way, she found Wheeler dozing in a chair by the bed with his chin resting on his shoulder. A beer can sat perched on his lap and his soft breathing offered an odd sort of comfort.
Jess smiled. The man was protective.
Slowly, so as not to not wake him, she headed for what she assumed was the door of a master bathroom and flicked on the light. Her hair stood up in spikes around her head, and bags shadowed her eyes. She splashed her face and made use of a hand towel. The bathroom was as neat as his SUV.
“You okay?”
Startled, she discovered him standing in the open door wearing a U of M T-shirt and a pair of ratty blue sweats. They hung low on his hips as the sweats tried to retain their position with the string tie having come undone. One cough and they’d be around his knees.
One could hope.
Jess licked her dry lips. “Yes, thank you.”
She padded back to the bed, conscious of the fact that she was wearing only short gray PJ shorts with white flowers on them, a matching gray top, and no bra. Thankfully she didn’t have a habit of sleeping nude. The top certainly didn’t hide much as it was.
The intimacy of being in his bed didn’t go unnoticed but the awkwardness diminished after she wrapped the comforter around her in a protective layer. He pulled the chair closer and sat down.
“You should try and get some sleep,” he said, ruffling his hair with one hand. Damn, he looked good.
“I can’t get the smoke detector out of my mind. My landlord replaced both of them two months ago. The one in the kitchen should have gone off right away.” She met his eyes. “This wasn’t an accident, was it?”
“I don’t think so.”
For the second time, and much to her embarrassment, tears sprang into her eyes. Jess dabbed at them with the edge of the comforter. “So much for being a tough girl.”
He stood and sat next to her. She leaned into him as he put an arm around her. “If someone tried to cook me, I’d probably cry, too.”
The image didn’t fit.
“Liar.” Nuzzling her face against his shoulder and smelling his spicy male scent, the moment felt a bit surreal. They weren’t fans of each other, yet fate—and a couple of assassination attempts—had brought them together. He was probably as confused about how she ended up in his bed as she was. And he hadn’t had to buy her dinner or spring for a movie to get her there.
“I think we’re going to have sex,” she said with a deep sigh. It was inevitable, she figured. She might as well put it out there so he wouldn’t get confused if she ever whipped off her panties in front of him.
Surprise lit his face at her blunt announcement, then his expression slipped into acceptance. “Probably. But not this morning. You need sleep. I’ll call Irving and tell him you’ll be late.” He kissed her brow and eased her back on the bed.
She touched the spot as he moved away.
Thoughts of the alpha male naked and making passionate love to her gave her something positive to think about other than fires and snipers and the mystery surrounding the whole situation.
As he walked out the bedroom door, she admired his butt with a smile, then drifted back to sleep.
Chapter Ten
When Jess woke up at eleven, the house was quiet and birds chirped outside through the screen window. Wheeler was gone. She went to the bathroom and on to the kitchen, following the scent of percolating coffee. A note on the counter next to a clean cup confirmed he’d be right back.
After pouring a cup of coffee, she added a lot of milk and sugar. Even with the additives, she made a face. Coffee was not her thing anyway. This was sludge left over from an oil change.
She put the cup down and admired the kitchen. It was modern and yet not too fancy, with a farmhouse sink and what she thought might be concrete countertops.
“Nice.” She wandered the rest of the downstairs to discover that the house had male dominated décor but without a worn recliner or wall-sized TV in sight. “There has to be a man cave somewhere.”
Wherever the cave was located, it wasn’t on the first floor. Ever the PI, she headed for the stairs, determined to dig up a secret lair, but stopped when movement outside caught her attention.
Thinking that the sniper might be back for another try, she went for her gun and tiptoed through
the kitchen. On the deck, seated on a woven mat, was a man, a very naked man. Not only that, he had a hairless body and he was seated cross-legged, his head tipped upward to the sky.
How had she missed him during her first visit to the kitchen?
The biggest point of interest—and it wasn’t his exposed you-know-what—was the fact that he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, so beautiful that it made her eyes ache. Yep, she experienced full-blown retinal aching.
Openly staring as a beam of light cut through the overcast sky and shined on his long golden locks, it took her a moment to realize that five women of varying ages, all wearing bathrobes and holding coffee cups, were loitering near the back fence.
When they saw her, two gave her enthusiastic thumbs-up.
She went back into the kitchen, shaking her head.
Keys rattled behind her and she turned her head. “You’re up.” Wheeler walked over and placed an overstuffed brown paper bag on the table. “You okay?”
“Other than a slight headache, I’m fine.” She turned back. “Do you know that you have a naked man on your deck?”
Puzzled, he joined her. “I thought he was with you. He said he was. I found him there when I got up.”
Her brows went up. “And you didn’t think it was odd that I’d invite a naked man to your house?”
Wheeler went for the sliding door handle. “He had clothes on then. Besides, weird follows you around. How am I supposed to know the difference?” He jerked open the door. Before he could step out, Jess slipped around him.
“I’ll handle this.” Besides, she had to get a closer look. At his face. He didn’t move as she approached. “Excuse me. Sir?”
One startling blue eye opened. “You must be Jess.”
“I am, but who are you?”
He held up one finger, mumbled something that sounded like the end of a prayer, and the second eye, this one green, opened. He smiled, and the vivid white of his teeth caused her to step back in surprise. The man had dropped down from Mount Olympus.
“I’m Calvin.” He unfolded and slowly rose to his feet. A collective sigh came from the women. Jess ignored them.
“Dear God,” Wheeler muttered behind her.
The guy was well over six feet, lean, muscled, and golden. When Calvin glanced at the ladies and grinned, Jess took a peek. No, she shouldn’t have, but she couldn’t help herself. His package was the largest she’d ever seen. All of it. He’d make stallions envious and mares weep. She snapped her attention back to his face before he caught her looking.
He looked down at her.
“Calvin, why are you here? Is there someone I can call for you?” she said gently, like a shrink. They had to get him out of here before he started a riot among the neighborhood husbands.
“I came because Alvin said you were in danger and needed a bodyguard.” He gave the detective a once-over and said out of the corner of his mouth, “I’m sure he’s competent, but I’m bigger.”
Wheeler, having lost patience, grumbled, “I’m having a donut,” and went back inside.
Jess rubbed the sides of her face. “How do you know Alvin?”
“He’s my brother. My twin brother.”
Had he said they were prison roommates, or college bros, or they’d once shared a crazy weekend in Vegas, she would have believed him. This explanation was completely unexpected. The two men were so dissimilar that they were almost different species.
“Explain,” she ordered.
He shifted from one foot to the other, causing his oversized part to sway in the breeze and a seismic reaction from the women at the fence. One actually fainted. The other four didn’t notice.
“There was a mix-up at the fertility lab and my egg was implanted in Mom along with Alvin’s. Since he has the same black unibrow and mustache as Mom, I assume I’m not her bio kid. We are not genetic brothers but brothers of our souls.”
Her mind went to Alvin and Calvin both naked on the deck and unconscious women dotting the landscape with their prone bodies. They had to get him dressed.
“Why are you naked?”
He looked down. She kept her eyes on his face. “In order to reach the pinnacle of spiritual enlightenment, I must be one with nature. And nature doesn’t wear clothes.”
Point made, yet he was causing a stir and it was still early. “Do you have clothes, Calvin?” She looked around and didn’t see signs of any.
“I do. In the car.”
“Can you get them?”
“Yes.” He reached down for his mat. “Clothing blocks energy and keeps one from reaching a higher plane,” he said. “One must be naked in body and spirit as we pray to the holy land.”
“Mecca?” she asked.
“Jersey.”
* * *
As Calvin went to reclaim his clothes, wrapped in his mat at Jess’s insistence, she went back inside. Wheeler sat at the table, shoving a donut into his mouth.
“Did you get rid of him?” he asked and flushed the pastry down with a slug of coffee.
“We didn’t get that far. He’s dressing.” The big bag drew her attention. Curious, she pulled it over and looked inside. A dark blue hoodie lay folded on top. “You brought me clothes?”
“When I called Irving and told him what happened, he gave me Taryn’s number. The clothes are hers. She also wants you to stay with her, but I told her I’m keeping you.”
Keeping her?
“That’s pretty arrogant of you. I’m not a stray dog.” She lifted the hoodie and found two sets of sexy bras and panties with the tags still on them. Rick was going to miss out. “I never agreed to stay here for more than one night.”
“But you did invite me to sleep with you. I figured it would be easier to accomplish if you’re right up the stairs.”
“Hmm.” Beneath the undies was a white top and a pair of blue capris. Since she and Taryn were of a similar size—although Jess was taller—the capris should fit. “What was said in a moment of emotional trauma cannot be held against me.”
“So you don’t want to have sex with me?”
“Oh, I do.” She put everything back in the bag and made a mental note to thank Taryn. “But I might change my mind. Women can, you know.”
Leaving him to ponder her comments, she went to his bedroom and locked herself in the bathroom. No sense taking chances. She wasn’t sure if she could resist him naked and wet. Despite what she’d said, or her plan to take up with a groomsman, she wanted more than just emotionless sex.
Taryn had included travel-sized toiletries and a few makeup items, enough to get her to the store for clothes and supplies.
She sent her friend a thank-you text and climbed in the steaming shower.
* * *
The pipes rattled softly as Jess ran the shower, the old house reminding him he still had things to fix on his to-do list. He’d only owned the hundred-year-old property for two years but managed more than a few renovations in that time. What he couldn’t do himself, he’d hired an expert to complete.
Having a woman in the house seemed odd. He’d never brought a woman home, feeling like that was adding intimacy to a relationship he wasn’t looking for. He’d usually go to their place, keeping a sense of distance.
Now the brash PI was naked in his shower and he wondered if he’d made a mistake by asking her to stay.
He liked his privacy and coming home to an organized house. He wasn’t obsessive about cleanliness, but he preferred not having dishes piled up in the sink and makeup all over his bathroom vanity.
However, Jess was in danger and he wanted her close. For that, concessions had to be made.
“I love your rattling pipes,” she said as she came downstairs in bare feet and a towel around her head. “And your shower. Mine was barely big enough to turn around in.” At that, her smile faded. “I liked that little apartment.” She paused, took a deep breath, and whispered to herself, “No more crying.”
Sam
could see her face redden. She did take pride in being tough. He pretended not to hear her.
She glanced around. “Where’s Calvin?”
“He’s not back yet. Maybe he left.”
“One could hope.” Dealing with Alvin was challenging. Having a pair of him would be too much.
The smell of baked goods drew her attention. She went for the bag and looked inside. “Yum. As long as there aren’t bagels with tofu cream cheese in here, I’m in.”
Sam glanced over his shoulder. “It isn’t real cream cheese if it’s made out of soy beans.”
The detective was alpha. It was hard to imagine him eating tofu burgers while perusing online shopping sites for hemp T-shirts. “Then I shouldn’t have you over for edamame stuffed tofurkey for Thanksgiving dinner?”
He stopped walking. “You can carve anything into the shape of a bird and call it whatever you want, but it doesn’t make it a turkey…or edible.”
Jess laughed and followed him into the kitchen. “It’s easier to pass something off as comfort food if you give it a familiar name. I don’t think most people would want to serve holiday guests food packaged as a poultry-flavored bean roll. It just doesn’t have the same appeal.”
“Tofurky, to-ice cream, to-fish is not food,” he said. “I’d rather eat rocks and sticks.”
“I’ll have to Google the recipe,” Jess teased.
When he passed her to take his cup to the sink, he smelled his body wash on her skin. Though spicy scented for men, it was kind of a turn on. Everything about her was a turn on.
Despite agreeing to eventually have sex with her, he hoped to have the case solved quickly and Jess out of his life. He was too busy for a relationship, and she had white picket fence written all over her.
Jess ate a fritter on a napkin. “These are good,” she said, taking a second one. “The sugar in these, and the sludge you call coffee, should keep you awake all afternoon.”
“Don’t knock it until you try it.”
The Sweetheart Kiss Page 6
