A Man to Trust

by Cheryl Yeko

  She’d only been to Delafield once before, when she’d checked into the quaint little boutiques that ran a straight line through the downtown area. Right after Angela started working at the Baubles & Bangles Boutique, Stacey considered expanding into the area and having Angela manage the location, but placed the project on the back burner, still in the thinking it over stage.

  Angela glanced at Shelby curled up on the couch. At least they’d brought her cat to her, along with a duffle bag haphazardly filled with some of her clothes and grooming items, and the romance novel she’d been reading.

  She picked the novel up from the coffee table and studied the hero on the cover. Just like Jake, he was tall, dark, and good-looking, with eyes full of passion as he held the woman in his arms.

  Her stomach fluttered. The same expression Jake had when he’d intimately touched her. Cheeks warming, she tossed the book back down.

  She thought about calling Stacey, but didn’t want to tell her what happened over the phone. Her plane would land at Mitchell airport soon and she should be home in a couple hours. Maybe they’d let Stacey visit?

  Angela made her way to the three-cushioned brown couch and plopped down, grabbing the square, blue decorative pillow and gripping it in her lap. She blew her bangs off her forehead with a sigh. For two long years of marriage, Scott made her life a living hell. His toxic influence even now managed to color her world with a tainted brush. She gave a frustrated groan. Glad he was dead.

  Angela flinched at her own vitriol and forced her rioting emotions under control. He was gone, and she needed to let go of her anger. She tossed the pillow on the couch and stood. Shaking her hands at her sides, she continued to pace while her mind raged war with her emotions.

  She had kissed Jake . . . again. What the hell had she been thinking? She reached the tiny kitchen and turned quickly to pace back into the living room, her bare feet slapping against the ceramic floor the only sound in the room. Shelby lifted her head and watched with a bored yawn, before lifting a paw to groom herself.

  Angela gave a soft laugh and shook her head in amusement. Shelby was the poster cat for cool and collected, while she paced around like a madwoman. She stopped to grin at her cat and then scooped her up, sprawling back onto the couch to pet her. Nothing more than an uncomfortable twinge tugged at her ribs.

  “Hey, girl,” she cooed as she stroked Shelby’s back. “How did my life get to be such a mess?”

  She couldn’t have feelings for this man . . . this cop. But she did. Just the thought of him made her heart race and a flutter of desire warm her body. Her eyes closed, remembering the feel of his hand between her legs, pleasuring her while he kissed her, his tongue matching his fingers sensual invasion into her body.

  The way he’d concentrated on her needs before his own had rocketed her into an orgasm sweeter than anything she’d ever known. Without realizing it, he’d managed to repair some of the damage to her soul caused by Scott’s abuse.

  A sharp knock at the front door startled her, causing Shelby to leap off her lap and dash down the hall. She stared at the door and chewed her bottom lip. Dare she open it?

  The incident at Jake’s place totally convinced her someone wanted her dead. And that freaked her out. Her eyes darted to the window. She was only a few floors up; she could jump if need be. Angela had no idea why someone wanted to stop her from testifying. She didn’t know anything about Scott’s business.

  “Angela, it’s Jake, open up.”

  Air rushed back into her lungs, and she patted her chest as she stood. She needed to chill. She had two police officers at her door and another sitting in a car outside the hotel. She was perfectly safe. Wasn’t she? She took a deep breath and opened the door. Jake stood there, looking devastatingly yummy.

  As usual, it seemed he’d rushed through his morning grooming, his hair slightly damp and mussed, still in need of a cut as it curled at his neck. There was a shaving nick on his chin and he’d missed a button on his shirt. But yet, somehow, he still managed to look incredible.

  He stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him and turned heated eyes, edged with charcoal, her way. She fidgeted under the intensity of his stare, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

  “How are you doing?” His voice was gentle and the soft sound feathered over her like a lover’s caress.

  She felt the blush start at her neck and work its way to her cheeks, recalling the pleasure of his touch. “I’m good.” She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth again.

  Jake’s eyes flashed and his gaze took a leisurely trip over her body. His lips curved into a sexy smile.

  Is he remembering how I came apart in his arms?

  She shifted nervously and reached out to close the button he’d missed at his midsection. She froze when she realized what she was doing. The intimacy of the movement overwhelmed her and she took a quick step back, lowering her gaze to the floor.

  Silence filled the room. She swallowed and lifted her eyes and met Jake’s heated gaze. Her heart raced, fascinated by the muscle that rippled along his jaw. She had the urge to smooth the tension away, but forced her hands to remain at her sides.

  After a long moment spent just staring at her, Jake stepped toward her and ran the back of his hand down her cheek, then leaned in to give her a tender kiss. Eyes closed, she lost herself in a tangle of emotions when his lips gently touched hers. No one had ever kissed her like that, as though she was a precious jewel that needed delicate care.

  Regret filled her when his mouth lifted from hers. His warm, minty fresh breath feathered across her lips. She opened her eyes and stared into the dark, golden-hazel depths of his eyes.

  He had frightened her the night before with his anger. But at least anger she understood, something she’d become well acquainted with during her marriage. But tenderness . . . not so much. Her mind struggled to make sense of her conflicting emotions.

  As though he read her confusion, he gave her a slow, easy smile that caused her stomach to flutter. “You doing okay here?” He glanced around the hotel room. Shelby tentatively padded around him to rub against her leg.

  Angela scooped Shelby up and attempted to gather her thoughts, still lost to the sensation of his kiss. “Yes. When do I get to go home?”

  Jake went to the window and inched the curtains back at the side to peer outside. His body tensed before he turned back to her, his eyes held a hard glint. “We don’t know. It depends on whether you tell the truth when you get on the stand. On whether someone still wants you dead for what you know.”

  Angela’s heart sank, and bitterness replaced any tender emotions she'd foolishly felt for him. He’d morphed back into the arrogant ass from her interrogation. How could she have forgotten him?

  She pursed her lips and took a seat in the chair, holding her cat on her lap. Refusing to look his way, she stroked Shelby’s back as the cat curled up and closed her eyes for a nap.

  She was a fool for believing Jake might actually care about her. You would think she would have learned well enough from her marriage not to be so naive. She’d forgotten for a short time that he didn’t trust her.

  Jake strode over and took a seat on the chair across from her. “Angela.”

  She continued to pet Shelby and didn’t respond. She was too hurt and confused to look at him. He had kissed her. Touched her . . . made her feel as though he cared. But all he really cared about was her testimony and what he thought she knew.

  Jake’s voice softened. “Angel.”

  He placed his index finger under her chin, tilting her head up until he could look into her eyes. “We need to know what you’re hiding.” His voice was low and coaxing. His unwavering gaze held resolve.

  She jerked her chin away. “Nothing. I’ve told you that.”

  She forced her emotions into compliance, pushing aside her wounded feelings. She wouldn’t give him the power to hurt her.

  Jake’s eyebrows furrowed and his lips drew into a thin slash across his face. His hand
slapped the end table, the sharp sound exploded into the room like a blast.

  Shelby shot from her lap. Angela instinctively cringed, settling into the chair as far away from him as possible. Her hands fisted in her lap.

  Her cheeks heated in shame at her betraying reaction. As anger filled her she straightened, determined to never again cower from a man.

  A stab of guilt pierced Jake’s chest. How could he treat her like that? Bully her like that? The ache at his chest twisted into a tight knot, thinking what a total bastard he was to make Angela flinch away from him, as though warding off a blow.

  Just like an abused woman.

  As a cop, he’d unfortunately seen enough of it to recognize the signs. At that moment, he wished Beebe were alive so he could rip the bastard’s heart out with his bare hands.

  His tension eased a little when she straightened and glared at him. She was a fighter.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He kept his voice calm, even though he wanted to punch the wall and vent some of his frustration.

  She lifted her chin. “You didn’t.”

  “Bullshit.” He needed her to confide in him, wanted to believe in her innocence. Had she covered for her bastard of a husband because he’d forced her to do it? But he was dead now. It just didn’t make sense.

  She blinked, then her pretty mouth tightened and she crossed her arms under her very nice breasts. Firm, tempting breasts he wanted to bury his face in.

  “Excuse me,” she said with a snap of her fingers. “I’m up here.”

  He lifted his gaze to find her glaring at him.

  Busted.

  He grinned. “Sorry about that.” He seemed to be apologizing a lot around her.

  Her lips twitched, although her eyes still held anger. “Yeah, well . . .” She stood and headed toward the kitchen. “I need some caffeine. Would you like a cup of coffee?

  Jake followed her to the kitchen. “That’d be great.”

  He stopped at the entrance, leaned against the doorjamb and watched as she retrieved two cups from the cupboard to pour the coffee. She wore a flowery silk blouse tucked into a pair of blue jeans, and he appreciated the way the jean material hugged her curvy bottom. His hands itched to touch her sweet cheeks, learn their shape more intimately.

  “Do you take anything in it?” she asked.

  He quickly brought his gaze back up, not wanting her to catch him staring at her ass. “Just black.”

  She doctored her coffee with cream and sugar before handing him his cup. “I’d like to go home after the trial.”

  She went back into the living room and curled up on the couch and he settled in the chair across from her. He wanted to be able to study her. Determine if she lied. See if he could figure her out.

  “Tell me about your marriage.”

  Her eyes widened and a flush rose to her cheeks. “There’s nothing to tell.” She glanced away.

  “I don’t think that’s true, Angela.” He was determined to get the whole story, even if he had to force each answer from her pretty, resisting mouth. “How did you meet?”

  “Why does that matter?” she countered. Her voice held a note of warning.

  “I need to know everything about Scott if I want to figure out who’s after you. I’m a cop. I know how to put puzzles together. Even if you think something isn’t important, it could very well be the piece that saves your life.”

  His blood thickened when her full, tempting lips pursed into a brief pout before she spoke. “I met him right after my mother’s death.”

  He waited, then sighed when she didn’t continue. Getting her to share information wasn’t going to be easy. He knew her mother had died of cancer right before her marriage to Beebe. It must have been a fast romance if they’d married just after her death.

  “Why the rush?”

  She blushed a lovely shade of pink. “That’s a rather personal question.”

  He said nothing, just quirked a brow and waited.

  An uncomfortable silence filled the room. When she finally spoke, he had to lean in to hear her softly spoken words.

  “I thought it was because he loved me.”

  “Are you saying he didn’t?”

  She blinked away tears that clung to her lashes. He silently cursed, hating that he was the cause of her pain, when he only wanted to protect her. He steeled himself against the guilt. The best way to accomplish that was to discover her carefully guarded secrets.

  Anger flashed across her face. “No. He just wanted to possess me.” Then the anger dropped away. Replaced by that haunting sadness he’d glimpsed before, flowing across her face like a spring tide . . . there, and then gone. If he hadn’t been watching her so closely he would have missed it.

  He fisted his hand at his side and swallowed his anger, taking a steadying breath. “Could you explain that statement just a little bit?” His voice was low, steely.

  She stood abruptly and began to pace. Jake had to strain his ears to hear her when she spoke.

  “As you can imagine, I was devastated when I lost my mother. My father died when I was younger. After mom died, it was just me and my grandmother.”

  She paused at the kitchen. “I met Scott at my health club about a week after her death.” She gave a soft laugh that ended on what sounded like a sob and began to pace again. “He swept me off my feet.”

  Jake grimaced. Scott had been nearly ten years older than her. She’d been young and vulnerable.

  She continued. “I—I had this romantic notion that I wanted to go to my wedding bed . . . untouched.” Her voice broke on the last sentence and she stopped to stand in the middle of the room, her head bowed.

  Jake clamped his jaw tight to stop the curse that hung there.

  She’d been a virgin?

  There was a moment of silence. “Angel?” he prodded.

  She glanced up at him, her eyes filled with pain. “Let’s just say it wasn’t the night of my dreams.” She turned away.

  Jake could stand it no more and leapt to his feet and reached her in two quick steps. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against him. She trembled. Whether from desire or fear, he didn’t know.

  “Tell me.” He tried to soften his tone, but his voice sounded harsh.

  Dammit.

  It was the best he could do with both anger and lust clawing at him.

  “He showed me that I belonged to him, and no one else.”

  Jake felt the tears that dripped onto his arm and tensed. His teeth gritted, filled with the urge to either fight or fuck, to release the pent-up emotions that burned through him.

  But this wasn’t about him. This was about Angela and her pain. His imagination managed to create an all-too-real picture of that night in his mind.

  “He hurt you?”

  “Yes.” Her voice shook.

  She straightened and stepped away, forcing him to release her. His arms fell to his sides.

  “Then he made sure I’d never forget that he owned me.”

  CHAPTER 7

  J.D. braked in front of a white colonial style home with blue and gray shutters, nestled under a forest of trees at the end of a cul-de-sac located in an upscale neighborhood of Port Washington. The boutique business must be doing very well, he mused, eyeing the new, bright red, GTO Mustang that sat in the driveway.

  Rick had asked him to speak with Angela’s friend, Stacey, and see if he could learn anything that might help with the case. He exited the car and made his way to the front door, then rang the doorbell.

  The porch light came on just before the door was thrown open and a petite woman with long, flaming red curls stepped out with a smile on her face and a bottle of wine in her hand.

  “Angela, it’s about . . .” Her voice stopped when she saw J.D. standing there. She inhaled sharply, a look of confusion and a little bit of panic crossed her face.

  He scowled. She should be frightened. He wasn’t in uniform. What was she thinking, opening the door to a strange man late at
night with not so much as a ‘Who’s there?’ He let her flounder for a brief moment, before introducing himself. Maybe she’d think twice before doing it again.

  He reached into his pocket for his badge. “I’m with the police, ma’am.” He flashed his badge.

  She studied the badge, her brows furrowed delicately between dazzling amber eyes. Her lips curved. “Stacey. Please call me Stacey.”

  J.D. froze, caught in the beam of her thousand-watt smile. He cleared his throat and swallowed. “I just have a couple questions for you regarding Angela Beebe.”

  Her eyes widened. “Angela? Did something happen to Angela?” Her voice rose.

  “No, she’s fine. If you don’t mind, could we please step inside? This won’t take long.”

  A pink tongue darted out between her lips in a nervous gesture. His pulse raced with interest. She was a beautiful woman. Tiny and full figured, some might even consider her plump. She stood no more than five feet. But those five feet packed a helluva punch. Her fashionable outfit emphasized her generous curves. His mouth went dry, imagining how he’d slowly stroke her soft curves. She’d be a pleasant handful, no doubt about it.

  Stacey stepped back and waved him in, shutting the door behind them. The musical sound of jingling jewelry moved with her as they made their way to the living room. She took a seat on a black leather loveseat. J.D. settled into the matching chair across from her.

  “So, Officer, what’s going on with Angela?” Concern vibrated in her voice.

  “Ma’am,” J.D began.

  “Stacey, remember? Ma’am is my mother.” Her eyes twinkled at him for a second, before turning serious.

  J.D. smiled. She was adorable, and he had a feeling bubbly just about summed her up. Even her voice was cute, with a high musical pitch. And she spoke twice as fast as normal, as though she rushed to get the words out before anyone could stop her. “Stacey, Angela is fine, but she ran into a little bit of trouble.”