by J. Lynn
“I love books,” I said simply. “There’s nothing more powerful than the written word. It can transfer you to a place that exists right now that you’ll never get to visit or it can take you to a world that doesn’t. It can show you things you’ll never experience otherwise in life, and books…most importantly, they can take you out of your own world, and sometimes you need that.”
“I feel you.” He was still watching me with those intent blue eyes.
A moment of silence passed between us. “I’m sure you didn’t come here to hear about all of that.”
He put his fork down. “Actually, yeah, I did.”
I blinked. “What?”
Colton leaned toward me with his gaze locked onto mine. “I didn’t know you in high school, but I knew of you.”
“You did? I can’t imagine it was anything interesting. I was boring as—”
“I never got the impression you were boring,” he interrupted, and goodness, I could fall into those eyes and never come back out. So cheesy sounding, and if I saw it in one of my author’s books, I’d redline the hell out of that, but now I got it. It was possible. “I just thought you were this pretty girl who sat two seats behind me in history class and was shy.”
Several things occurred to me at once. He remembered that we shared history class together? Holy crap on a cracker. And he thought I’d been pretty? I was sure I probably weighed twenty pounds more back then and I wore these god-awful glasses that were so trendy nowadays.
Colton was a flirt.
“Looking back, I wish I had the balls to talk to you then.” He returned his attention to his crepe while my jaw hit the table. “But you were with Kevin and…yeah, that’s not my style, you know?” He glanced in my direction. “You’re going to eat the crepes, right?”
“Yeah,” I murmured, cutting into one side. I forced myself to eat a bite, and it was like heaven just orgasmed in my mouth. Wow. That was inappropriate. I resisted a giggle. “What about you? You’ve been a cop this whole time?”
“Yep. It’s what I always wanted to do. Started off as a deputy, then became a detective for the county before transferring to the city. I love working as a detective, but with my hours all over the place, Reece, my brother, has pretty much straight up adopted my dog. She doesn’t even stay at my house anymore.” He finished off the second crepe with an impressive quickness and then settled back against the chair, stretching out his long legs. “Almost got married.”
Thank God I had just swallowed a piece of crepe because there was a good chance I would’ve choked. “Almost?”
“Was engaged.” He grinned, and I felt my tummy dip in response. “Nicole and I were together for…hell.” He glanced up at the ceiling, pursing his lips. “For about six years.”
Holy crap, six years? That was a long time. I wondered if she was the woman I’d seen him with at the movies that one time, but that was like, maybe a year ago.
“Got all the way down to planning the wedding date when we came to the realization that we wanted different things in life.”
I picked up my coffee, more intrigued than I should be, but I couldn’t imagine what more this mystery woman could’ve wanted beyond having Colton putting a ring on it. Granted, there was more to life, to a relationship, than having a hot guy to wake up to, but Colton and his younger brother, Reece, had always given the good-guy vibes. Colton could’ve changed since high school, but I didn’t think so. “How so?”
“At first I think Nicole liked the idea of dating a cop.” He laughed as he ran his finger along the rim of his cup, and damn, he had long fingers. “But it’s not an easy life. Odd hours. Then there’s the danger factor. I make decent money, but I’m never going to be rolling around in it. I think she hoped that I’d grow tired of being a cop.”
I didn’t understand. “But you guys were together a long time. Why would she think it was something you’d grow tired with?”
He raised a shoulder. “I think some people pretend at being okay with something because they think there’s some kind of payoff in the end. That they’ll eventually get what they want, and when they realize that’s never going to happen, they just can’t pretend anymore.”
I shook my head. “I still don’t get it. Why would someone waste their time pretending—waste the other person’s time? There’s no point in pretending in a relationship. It’ll never work.”
His dark lashes lowered, shielding his eyes as a small smile played across his lips. “Agreed.”
Sipping my coffee, I tried to ignore the wild fluttering and the thousand questions whirling around in my head. I peeked over at him as I lowered my cup, and our gazes locked. Air leaked out of my parted lips. Colton didn’t look away, and neither could I. Absolutely struck helpless by the intensity in his stare, the wisps of excitement building in my belly gave way to a slow burn that got my pulse pounding. How could a single look from him draw such a response? That gaze of his dipped, and I drew in a shallow breath and felt the warmth travel through my veins. Was he looking at my mouth again? Oh Lord, it was getting hot in here.
Goodness, this man…even his stare was pure…pure sin.
I cleared my throat. “So…um, when did you and Nicole part ways?”
“About six months or so ago.”
Ice chased away the warmth as I schooled my expression blank. Six months? That wasn’t a long time ago, especially considering they were engaged to be married and were together for six years. Six months was…was nothing. After I lost Kevin, six months had changed nothing for me. How could he be over the failure of a relationship in six months?
And why did it matter? No, it didn’t, but there was no mistaking the rise of disappointment. I wanted to smack myself.
Colton leaned forward. “I did have another reason for stopping by. It’s about what happened last night.”
“Of course,” I murmured, slapping a smile across my face as another surge of dismay made itself known.
He looked at me strangely. “I don’t want to go into the gory details—”
“I can handle them.” Or at least I thought I could. I was pretty sure I could.
That half smile was back. “When I got called out when I was talking with you, it was because the coroner had picked up the…body and had some evidence. Obviously, we know what the cause of death is, but I wanted to stop by and let you know that we are probably going to have an ID sometime today.”
“Oh.” I took a drink of my now lukewarm coffee.
“I also want you to contact me immediately if you see anything weird, okay?” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a business card and placed it on the table.
My gaze fell to the card. So formal. “What could be weird?”
“Just if you notice anyone hanging around here that you’re not familiar with. Anything that gives you a bad vibe. That sort of thing.”
I glanced up at him, the unease from earlier returning. “Should I be worried?”
“No.” The smile he gave me this time didn’t reach his eyes. “Just careful.”
That really didn’t make me feel warm and fuzzy, but couldn’t he have just called me? If he had my address, then he had my cell.
The smile transformed and his face softened. “Yeah, I could’ve called you and told you that.”
My chin jerked up as I almost dropped my cup. “Can you read minds? Oh man, I hope not.”
His gaze did that slow slide again. “Now I’m curious to what I’d discover if I could read your mind.”
I widened my eyes and said nothing because seriously, my mind was one step from face planting in the gutter when he was around.
Reaching over, he tapped his fingers on my arm. “I didn’t want to just call you.”
“Oh,” I repeated. Goodness, I had this conversation thing down pat. It wasn’t my fault. The tapping of his fingers had sent a fine shiver up my arm.
“And I was in the mood for crepes,” he continued. “And when you’re in the mood for crepes, you want to share them with a pretty
lady.”
My mouth opened but there were no words.
He chuckled as he rose. “I have to get going.”
“Okay,” I murmured, putting my cup on the table. I stood, following him to the door, and when he stopped suddenly, I nearly bounced off his back. His playful grin once again made an appearance. “Sorry.”
Colton tilted his head to the side. “I’ll be in touch, Abby.”
As he left and I closed the door behind him, I leaned forward, gently knocking my forehead against it as I tried to stop my wayward thoughts from making a bigger deal out of his visit than I should.
But it was hard.
“Ugh.” I pressed my forehead against the door and groaned.
Colton was an admitted flirt—an outrageous one. That was what he had to be doing because there was no way that it could be anything else. After all, how could it? Not when he was engaged six months ago, and he hadn’t said who ended the relationship.
Besides, I wasn’t his type. I wasn’t cutting myself short by acknowledging that. Colton was…he was gorgeous. The kind of masculine beauty that could grace the covers of the books I edited, and he was also sweet—charming, and from what I remembered, intelligent to boot. And me?
I was the kind of woman who got the guy in the books.
But not in real life.
Never in real life.
Chapter 5
“Oh my gosh, that is so scary.” Jillian brushed the heavy fringe of dark brown bangs out of her wide brown eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” A little concealer had covered the tiny cuts on my face, and the palms of my hands only stung every so often. “It was scary and so unexpected.”
“Who would expect that? Ugh.” Jillian glanced down at her empty plates. We’d demolished our dinner and then our cheesecakes. “I can’t even imagine. I probably would’ve run screaming and flailing in the other direction.”
“That’s pretty much what I did.” I eyed the tiny crumb of cake on my plate and wondered how gluttonous I’d be if I ate that last piece.
“And that’s probably why you’re alive¸” she replied. “Even my father would have a hard time justifying a fight strategy rather than a flight one.”
Jillian’s father owned Lima Academy, and the sprawling building in downtown Philadelphia was more than just a gym. It was one of the premier mixed martial arts training facilities in the world. Jillian’s father, skilled in his native Brazilian jiu jitsu, could’ve probably used his ninja stealth and taken the guys out with his karate skills.
“Speaking of your father, how is he handling the idea of you leaving in the spring?” I asked, changing the subject.
She cringed as she leaned back against the booth, folding her arms across her chest. Tension seeped into her pretty features. “He’s still not exactly thrilled about it. He doesn’t like the idea of me not being within his eyesight. Like something’s going to…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Anyway, do you still want to go to that signing Tuesday night?”
“Tiffany King’s signing? Hell yeah.” I relaxed when a genuine smile crossed her face. Conversations about her dad were usually a dead end. “She’s going to be signing A Shattered Moment.”
Jillian knocked her bangs out of her face. “I loved that book. Isn’t there going to be another author with her, though?”
“Yeah, I think Sophie Jordan and Jay Crownover are going to be there.” I glanced over at the couple walking past our table. “You want to meet at the bookstore?”
She nodded as she picked up her glass. “So,” she drew the word out. “This Colton guy you mentioned? You went to high school with him?”
I bit back a sigh. I didn’t know why I even brought him up, but I had, and I was woman enough to admit that I wanted to obsess over every little thing he’d said to me, but all I managed was a tight nod.
Jillian turned her head to the side and shot me a sidelong glance. “You know, when you brought him up earlier, you blushed.”
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did.”
My eyes narrowed, but I laughed because yeah, I probably did. “I had the biggest crush on him in high school, and I know that’s terrible because I was with Kevin and that probably makes me a terrible person.”
“No, it doesn’t.” She rolled her eyes. “Just because you were with someone doesn’t mean you’re blind to everyone around you.”
“True.” I paused. “And Colton was hot.”
Jillian giggled. “Was?”
“And now he like puts an extra ‘o’ and ‘t’ in hot. He…he actually remembered me. Like he knew what class we shared.”
Her brows rose, disappearing under her bangs. “Really?”
I nodded as I scrunched my nose. “And I think he was flirting with me. Okay. He was definitely flirting with me, but I think he’s just a flirt. And guys who are flirts will flirt with anyone.” I paused. “I wonder how many times I can say ‘flirt’ in a sentence?”
Jillian gave a close-lipped smile. “Oh, I know all about guys who will flirt with anything that’s breathing.” She glanced over at the empty table. “Anyway, maybe he’s interested.”
“Ah, I don’t know about that.” Caving in, I scooped up the last little crumb of cake.
She frowned. “Why? You’re smart and funny. You’re pretty, and you love books. Why wouldn’t he be interested?”
“Thanks,” I laughed. “But he was engaged up until six months ago.”
“Oh.” Her lips pursed.
“And I’m not judging the fact he was in a previous serious relationship because so was I, but…” I stopped myself, laughing again. “Why am I even thinking about it in that kind of manner? I saw him last night because he’s the detective investigating a homicide I witnessed and he stopped by this morning.” I shook my head, clearing those thoughts away. “I don’t even need to think about this in that way.”
“I don’t know,” she replied after a moment. “But this whole thing sort of reminds me of a romance trope.”
Another laugh burst out of me. “It sure does, except in real life, it never works out that way.”
The truth was, even though that kind of thing only ever happened in books, I secretly dreamed of it happening to me. Sort of like a grown version of a girlie fantasy.
She shrugged as a far-off look appeared in her gaze and her response was soft. “I don’t know about that. I like to believe—I need to believe—that happily ever afters exist in real life too.” In that moment, she suddenly looked far older than nineteen. “For all of us.”
* * * *
After dinner, I stopped at the grocery store in town, picking up a couple of necessary work items.
Coffee.
5-hour Energy drinks.
Skittles.
Chocolate.
Coke Zero.
Without these things, I was pretty much useless when it came to editing. When I worked in New York, I had a drawer in my desk full of three of those five things.
Checking out was a breeze and as I headed back into the waning daylight, I stowed the shopping cart and held on to my bag and case of soda with a death grip. Even though it was Saturday night, I would be working once I got my butt home and into comfy sweats. Working from home meant I kept weird hours.
Or in other words, I simply worked nearly every day.
I most definitely worked more now than when I traveled into an office every day. Then it had been easier to separate home from work. Not so much now.
As I neared my car, my steps slowed. When I’d gone into the store, the parking space beside my car had been empty, and I’d walked past plenty of vacant spaces on my way in and out, but now there was a van parked on my driver’s side.
Not just any van. The creepy, white with no windows, kidnapper-type van.
My stomach dipped as I stopped a few feet from the van. Maybe I was just being paranoid after last night. Or maybe it had to do with Colton’s warning about paying attention to anything weird, but either way, a ti
ny ball of dread had formed in the pit of my stomach.
The bag was starting to cut into my fingers and the case of cola was getting heavy. What could I do? Drop my groceries and run? Call Colton because there was a creeper van parked next to mine?
God, I watched way too much Investigation Discovery channel.
Then, before I could make up my mind to do anything, the passenger door creaked open and a male stepped out. My heart plummeted. He didn’t look like he belonged stepping out of a work van. No way, no how. I wasn’t trying to be judgie-mc-judgers, but his dark trousers, tucked in dark blue shirt, and polished dress shoes did not fit the rusted, broken-down creeper van.
Dark sunglasses obscured his eyes, but I had the distinct impression he was staring at me. Probably because I was standing there like an idiot, but then again, at this time of day, I couldn’t figure out why he needed sunglasses. Ignoring the shiver slithering down my spine and the numbness in my fingers, I started walking again, fully prepared to turn the bag of groceries into a deadly weapon.
“It’s a nice night, isn’t it?” the man called out.
My aching fingers tightened around the strap of the plastic bag. I didn’t smile. I didn’t reply. The creep factor was off the charts, and as I neared the back of the van, I gave it a wide berth, ready for a posse of insane clowns to jump out and try to kidnap me.
Of course, the doors didn’t open. I was going to walk to the passenger side and try to see if there was anyone else in the van before I went to the driver’s door. Sounded legit.
“Your name is Abby, right?” the man said.
The air froze in my lungs, like I’d walked into subzero temperatures. Tiny hairs all along my body rose as if an army of cockroaches was running loose on my skin. I looked over my shoulder at him.
He stood by the back of his van with a close-lipped smile. A cold one. Predatory. “The Abby Ramsey, born and raised in Plymouth Meeting? Married her high school sweetheart who tragically passed away in a car accident about four years ago? The same Abby Ramsey who works from home as a freelance editor?”
Holy shit.
Holy shit balls on Sunday.
