She tried to take a deep breath, but only got down a swallow. “You ask that a lot.” Her hands shook so hard, she couldn’t fit the key in the lock.
“That’s because you don’t look okay… a lot.” Humor laced his voice.
“You’re a real champion with compliments, aren’t you?” she countered, hoping to find some emotional footing in the lightness.
“I said you looked nice back at your apartment.” He moved to her side and studied her. The smile in his eyes vanished as if he was seeing right through her attempt at humor. Frowning, he took the keys from her trembling fingers.
She thought he was going to open the door, instead he ran a finger over her chin. The sweeping touch reminded her how good his touch had felt in other places.
“You don’t have to go in there right now,” he said. “I’ll pay for lunch. We can come back later. After you’ve seen Ellen, it’ll be easier to take.”
Not really, Nikki thought. She’d learned that postponing things didn’t make them easier. Stiffening her spine, she took the keys from his hand and opened the door. As she walked inside, she heard him mutter something about her being stubborn, but she decided not to address it.
She wasn’t stubborn. She was just… cautiously independent. Life had taught her to be.
Taking a deep breath, she found herself staring at one of her paintings—the one of a girl swinging on a tire swing with her father standing behind her. She wanted to lose herself in the painting and not look at the…
Stop postponing it. She had to face this sooner or later. She would be fine, she told herself, and shifted her eyes back to the floor.
Wrong.
She wasn’t fine.
Seeing Ellen’s blood, so much blood—and this close up—sent a wave of nausea right to Nikki’s stomach. Reminded of her hospital stay, she sucked air in through her nose. Where was her pink barf bucket when she needed it? She covered her mouth.
Dallas took her by the shoulders and turned her away from the scene. Not thinking, she buried her head on his chest. “Oh God. I can’t believe this happened.” She took another gasp of air in her nose and blew it out her mouth.
Don’t puke. Don’t puke.
Dallas’s hand brushed over her shoulders. “Hey,” he said, his voice low, soft and caring.
She felt herself leaning into him even more. The nausea started to fade, but she didn’t pull away. She needed his wall of strength right now. Later, when the shock wore off, she’d cut the ties. Clean cut, too. She’d go cold turkey, no more wall. But now…
“Nikki?” The warm whisper of his voice came close to her ear. How did he make saying her name resonate with so much concern? She waited for him to continue, to ask again if she was okay, or to tell her everything was going to be fine.
“You aren’t going to puke on me again, are you?” he asked.
She pulled back and stared at him. “No.”
“I mean, if you have to, I’ll take one for the team. But you’re gonna owe me big. And I like your work.” He glanced at her paintings. Then he looked back at her and smiled tenderly.
“I’m feeling better,” she told him.
“Good.”
She suspected he’d teased her just to get her mind off being sick. And it had worked.
“Now, let’s get out of here, okay?”
“But I need… the money.”
He looked as if he was going to argue then stopped. “Is the money in the register?”
She nodded.
He held out his hand. “You got the key?”
She handed him her key ring and pointed to the key with a red dot.
“Wait here.” He cupped her chin in his palm. “And breathe or you’re going to pass out.”
She wasn’t going to pass out. But just in case, she breathed. He removed his hand and stepped away. She stared at the front door. All of a sudden her mind took her to what Ellen might have felt being here alone with a killer. Questions started bouncing around her head. Did Ellen see who did this? How long had Ellen been in the store alone and bleeding? How long had Ellen’s attacker held her at knifepoint? Had Ellen screamed?
Fear crowded Nikki’s chest and tears filled her eyes. She fought back the emotion and listened to the sound of the register drawer opening and closing. Dallas’s footsteps neared and she waited for him, somehow knowing his nearness would make her feel safe again.
“Come on.” He pressed his hand to the small of her back and moved her toward the door.
She stopped right before she walked out. “Wait? What am I doing? I… I should clean it up.”
“You shouldn’t.” He paused. “Isn’t seeing Ellen more important right now?”
“You’re right.” Nikki allowed him to guide her outside. When he locked the door, she couldn’t stop from looking back one more time. She couldn’t wrap her head around it.
Moving her gaze away from the blood-covered floor, she looked up at Dallas. “Has your brother talked to Ellen yet?”
He nodded. “This morning.”
“Did she see who did this? Does she know who it was?”
“No. The perp was wearing a mask.” He put his hand on her back again. “Come on, let’s go.”
Nikki hesitated. “I’m stuck in an old episode of Law & Order.” She fought the wash of panic threatening to take over again. “I can even hear the music playing in the background.”
“Yeah, but you’re not alone.” He put his arm around her shoulders and walked her to his car. His touch wasn’t the least bit seductive as it had been this morning, but the light squeeze he offered and his not-alone comment came with genuine emotion. And that was even more of a lure than their little make-out session on his bedroom floor had been.
She liked this guy.
Cupcake or no cupcake.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LEANN STUDIED HER new patient’s chart. Ellen Wise. Her heart lurched when she realized this was one of Tony’s witnesses and the friend of Nikki, the woman Tony suspected of killing her husband. Damn. LeAnn didn’t want to run into him again.
Closing her eyes, she pressed two fingers to her temple and wished she could run and hide. Alone. Not even at home. She needed to get away—somewhere her memories of Tony wouldn’t haunt her.
She recalled the look on his face when he saw the envelope—hurt, disappointment, and guilt. It was the same look he’d had on his face when he’d packed his bag three weeks after the funeral and took off to San Antonio to do an undercover job. But how could he be disappointed in her now? Wasn’t she giving him what he wanted? A way out without feeling guilty?
I married you because you totally rocked my world. You stole my heart. I would have asked you to marry me a month earlier if I thought there was a chance in hell that you’d say yes.
His words replayed in her head. Part of her wanted to believe them, had believed them, until she saw him pack his bags that day and leave for San Antonio. She’d been dying inside from grief and self-blame, but she hadn’t considered that losing Tony was part of the deal. That was the day she realized that Tony probably blamed her, too.
She was a nurse, she knew SIDS wasn’t a parent’s fault, but hundreds of what-ifs had hunkered down inside her heart to live. What if she’d gotten up to check on Emily right when she’d stopped breathing? What if LeAnn let her sleep in the bassinet a month longer? What if LeAnn had eaten more vegetables when she was pregnant? If her own education hadn’t stopped her from blaming herself, how could Tony not blame her?
“Something wrong?” Carolyn, her nurse tech, asked.
LeAnn looked up from the chart. “Just reviewing.” She forced herself to smile and started moving.
“By the way…,” Caroline said.
Nikki turned around.
“Did your hubby find you? Let me tell you, you are one lucky gal. I swear—”
LeAnn’s throat tightened. “Yeah. He found me,” she said and took off.
Dallas studied Nikki from across the restaurant table. The purple ci
rcles under her eyes had lessened. But the stress in her baby blues hadn’t. Unfortunately, he needed to start asking questions, digging around in her past. He knew how hard this was going to be, but he needed to know things to do his job.
The fact that he wanted to know things for reasons other than the case shouldn’t matter. He had to do his job.
“Tell me about Jack.” He reached for the ketchup. He’d brought Nikki to one of his favorite hole-in-the-wall hamburger joints.
“I already did.” She looked down at the plate.
“I need more, Nikki.” Immediately the various truths of his statement filled his chest with a hot, raw desire. He needed more of what occurred between them this morning. Every few minutes, he’d remember how her hands had felt moving up his chest and how her breasts had looked and felt filling his palms.
“What kind of more?” she asked.
He reined in his wayward thoughts, but it wasn’t easy because that pink top she wore did amazing things to her breasts. “What was he into?”
She smirked. “You mean besides my hired help?”
“Yeah, besides that.” Dallas smiled, but he was beginning to understand her use of humor as a cover. Not that it was particularly a bad thing. He excelled at making light of things himself. But right now he needed the truth.
“Was he into anything illegal?” He squirted a mound of ketchup beside his onion rings and then ripped off a couple of paper towels from the holder on the table. “Drugs? Gambling?”
She appeared insulted at his question. “He was a lawyer.”
“As if that makes a difference.” Dallas picked up an onion ring and raked it through the ketchup and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed around the hot crusty piece of heaven, he noticed she still hadn’t touched her food. Her stomach had to be gnawing on her backbone by now. He was starved, and he’d had a doughnut this morning and hadn’t lost his dinner last night.
He wondered if her stomach was still knotted at the thought of the mess waiting on her at the gallery—an issue he planned to take care of, too.
He glanced up and remembered his quest for answers. “So Jack—”
“He wanted to make partner. That’s what he was into.”
He saw how hard this was her. “Man, this is good.” He picked up another onion ring. “Try this.” He held it to her lips.
He thought she was going to refuse, but then she took the offering from his hand and took a bite.
“Tell me that isn’t heaven,” he said.
“It’s good.” She finished off the second half.
He reached for a paper napkin. “How are your fries?”
“I haven’t tried them yet.” She stuck her fork into a fry, and took a bite. “They’re good.”
He felt better seeing her eat. Reaching over, he swiped one of her fries and popped it into his mouth. “They are good. I’ll swap you half my onion rings for half of your fries.”
She licked the sheen of oil off her lips. “No food-sharing issues,” she said.
“Say what?”
She shook her head. “Nothing, I was just… thinking out loud again.”
“So, is it a swap?”
“Sure.” She handed him her plate.
He raked a few of her fries onto his plate and forked several of his onion rings onto hers.
“So Jack didn’t make bets on the games or go to the horse races? Never indulged in casual drug use?”
“No.” She picked up another onion ring and took a bite.
“So he had no hobbies, or passions… besides your hired help?” He picked up his hamburger and took a hearty bite. He hoped feeding his stomach would lessen the other hungers stirring in his blood.
She watched him eat, to the point he thought he had ketchup on his chin and picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth. Finally, looking down at her plate, she picked up a French fry, with her fingers this time, and started eating.
“Wine,” she finally said. “That’s what he was into. He belonged to six different wine clubs. He liked dining out at expensive restaurants, to be seen in the right circles. He played golf with the senior partners and sometimes his dad. But he hated golf. Called it a business requirement.”
Dallas watched the sympathy play out in her eyes. For whatever reason, Nikki had cared for Jack Leon. Which meant the man had probably broken her heart.
“He was…” She took a breath. “He could be self-absorbed. But he wasn’t a criminal or a bad person. He had a way of making people feel important. His clients… his work associates. People liked him.”
“What about his wife?”
She looked confused. “I was his wife.”
“I know. Did you like him? Did he make you feel important?”
She bit down on her lip. “Yeah, in the beginning he did.”
“And then?”
“Then he didn’t always approve of who I was. Like I said, he could be self-absorbed, wanted to always look good, but he wasn’t all bad.”
“You loved him?”
“Yes. But we all make mistakes, right?”
“Yeah.” The conversation slowed and he finished off his hamburger.
“What about you?” she asked.
“What about me?” He picked up his iced tea and downed half the glass.
“You obviously aren’t married.” Her brow crinkled. “I hope not.” She looked worried and her gaze shot to his left hand.
“Not married.” He ran his thumb over his ring finger, glad that the white line had faded. The whole time in prison, the white band had been a constant reminder of everything he’d lost.
“That means you’re either divorced, or there’s something wrong with you.”
Dallas knew this was a ploy to change the subject, but he still laughed.
He watched her pick up her hamburger and take a bite. Her pink tongue slid across her bottom lip.
“Interesting,” he said and tried not to think about her tongue sliding across him. But holy shit, what was wrong with him? He wasn’t a horny sixteen-year-old virgin. He was a co…—a PI working a case. And he needed to focus on that.
“What’s interesting?” She dabbed her mouth with a paper napkin.
“That you see a man who has never been married as flawed. I’d think it was the other way around. The divorced guy is the flawed one.”
“Both have flawed possibilities. But at least the divorced guy had enough potential for a woman to take a chance on him and he’s not completely commitment phobic. Of course, the flaw ratio changes if the guy’s been married more than once. Then he’s like the fish people keep catching and throwing back into the pond.” She picked up her hamburger again and asked, “So… what are you? Divorced or terminally single?”
“Divorced,” he admitted. “And only thrown back once.”
“What happened?” She pulled another paper towel from the roll and wiped her mouth. When he hesitated, she shrugged. “You got personal first.”
“Fair enough,” he said, and it was fair. He opened his mouth with the intent of telling her everything. Hell, she was going to find out anyway. But the answer that came out was vague. Purposely vague. “I hit a rough spot at work. She… didn’t like rough spots.”
“Did that rough spot involve another woman?”
He admired her directness. “No,” he said with a clear conscience, and noticed her gaze shoot to his eyebrow.
He saw something akin to respect fill her eyes. But he couldn’t help wondering if he’d still see that respect if she knew that rough spot involved a murder conviction.
“Kids?” she asked.
“Just Bud.” He ate another fry from her plate and tried to figure out how to tell her about his jail stint. Of all people, she should understand. But hadn’t he thought that with Serena?
“Was Jack seeing anyone now?” he asked, not ready to make this about him.
“I don’t know. Yet knowing Jack, yeah.”
“You really haven’t talked to him since the divorce?”
; “Not once. Oh, he called almost every week. Sent flowers. I wouldn’t take his calls and I took the flowers to Nana’s retirement center.”
“Did Jack have any enemies?”
She set her hamburger down. “Some of his clients weren’t happy when he lost their cases. Not that he lost often. He was good at his job. People generally liked him. He never got mad or lost his temper.” Her brow crinkled as if she was remembering something. “Except…”
“What?” he asked.
“The phone calls.”
“What phone calls?”
“At the restaurant. He was upset. I remember because he actually said ‘fuck.’ Jack didn’t lose it like that. It wasn’t… politically correct.”
Dallas leaned in. “Who was he talking to?”
“I don’t know, but when I asked what was going on, he said it was something with work.” She blinked. “Do you think that has something to do with his murder?”
“Yeah, I do.” Dallas recalled Andrew Brian, and the fact he and Jack Leon were both hoping to make partner. “This is good.” Dallas smiled, remembering Tony had Jack’s cell phone. For the first time, he thought this whole mess was going to be easier to solve than he’d originally thought. “Okay, try to remember everything you heard. Everything.”
Dallas’s cell rang just as he and Nikki walked into the hospital. He pulled it out and frowned when he saw it was his dad. Not that he didn’t like hearing from the old man, but he knew what this conversation was going to be about.
He touched Nikki’s arm. “I need to take this call. Why don’t I meet you at the ICU in a few minutes?” He looked at his watch. “But remember we only have an hour before we meet Tony.”
She nodded.
He met her big blue eyes and for some crazy reason he felt as if they were both searching for something in each other.
One day at a time. His phone rang again and he took the call. “Hey, Dad.”
Nikki walked toward the elevators. His gaze fixed on the sway of her hips. Her jeans weren’t too tight, but hugged her ass just right. Her fitted top hugged her waist and from behind showed off her hourglass figure. He shifted his gaze up to the way her blond curls stirred around her shoulders. Damn, she had gorgeous down both coming and going.
Only in Texas Page 18
