A Man to Trust

by Cheryl Yeko

  She’d quizzed him about his children, what he liked to do for fun, and if he liked animals. He’d learned she loved to bake, enjoyed red-wine, seafood, and creating handcrafted jewelry for her boutique, and she loved dogs.

  A shiver rolled over her, but she made no move to step out of his embrace. Instead, she licked her lips and met his gaze. “Did you want to come in for a nightcap?” Her blush deepened.

  J.D. tightened his grip around her and leaned down, way down, to brush his lips across hers. She was tiny and felt delicate in his arms, but her lips were soft and full, tasting of red wine and the dark chocolate Kiss she’d popped into her mouth on the drive over. Sweet.

  He lifted his head and quirked an amused brow. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  She gave a soft, seductive laugh and his blood thickened at the sound. “I’m just inviting you in for a drink, not tantric sex.”

  She touched his nose with the tip of her finger. “At least, not yet,” she purred, turning to half-walk, half-stumble toward the house. The sensual sway of her hips, a siren call.

  Damn!

  Just when he thought he had her figured out. She was some serious trouble. J.D. snorted, then grinned like a fool as he followed her inside.

  CHAPTER 9

  Jake took a sip of strong black coffee and glanced at his son, Nick. “We should be able to move back home soon. In the meantime, enjoy the time spent with your cousins.”

  They’d stayed with J.D. ever since his living room had been destroyed in the shootout. The workers estimated it’d be sometime next week before they’d finish with repairs.

  “No problem, Dad.” Nick shoved a crispy piece of bacon into his mouth. “I like staying at Uncle J.D.’s,” he mumbled.

  Jake ruffled Nick’s hair. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

  “Sorry,” Nick said with a grin.

  Alex jumped up from the table and made a mad dash to the living room. “Let’s play Star Wars.” He removed the video game from its case.

  Wesley followed him over at a more leisurely pace. “Is it okay, Daddy?”

  J.D. shot Jake an amused look. “Sure, since there’s no school today, you guys can play for a couple hours. But then you need to clean your rooms. Deal?”

  “Deal,” the three little boys answered in unison. Nick placed his plate in the sink before heading into the living room to join his cousins.

  Jake smiled at the boys, then turned his attention to J.D. “I’m going to stop by the station to check on the case, then head to the safe house.”

  J.D. nodded and took a swig of coffee.

  Jake eyed his brother, then raised a brow. “So, little brother. Is there something you want to tell me about you and Stacey Holland?”

  J.D. scowled.

  Jake chuckled. He’d only been born ten minutes earlier than J.D., but it was a familiar habit to tease him about it. When they were younger, it really pissed J.D. off, so, of course, he’d done it a lot.

  J.D. placed his cup on the table and shrugged. “She’s cute. I like her and plan to ask her out.”

  “I think that’s great.” He wanted J.D. to find happiness again, someone to share his life with, and help him raise his boys.

  Jake’s own thoughts drifted to Angela. He wanted her. But was it just sexual attraction or something more? The fact that he wasn’t sure made him feel like the ass she’d accused him of being. She’d had a tough time of it, and he didn’t want to hurt her. But he wasn’t willing to just walk away either.

  It all seemed so clear the night before, when he’d held her in his arms. He’d wanted to make her his, and only the fact that she was tipsy stopped him. Now, it wasn’t quite as clear.

  Jake shoved back his chair and took his coffee cup to the sink. “Are you staying home with the boys today?”

  “Yep. After their teacher’s conference, I thought I’d take them to the zoo. So I took the whole day off. Think you could join us?”

  “Please, Dad,” Nick yelled from the living room.

  Jake grinned at his son. “Okay, bud. After your conference, you can stay with Uncle J.D. and go with him to the zoo. I’ll meet you guys there.”

  “Awesome,” Nick exclaimed, turning to high-five Alex. Wesley was too intent on the video game to pay them any attention.

  Jake turned back to J.D. “Call me when you get there.”

  “You got it, bro.”

  Angela groaned at the severe pain in her head, the pounding at her temples. She raised heavy eyelids. Bright lights pierced like a blade through her forehead. Damn, she should have stopped after that first bottle of wine. She lifted a shaky hand to shield her eyes as memories of the night before came into focus.

  She rubbed her right temple as a marching band drummed in her head. Aspirin. She needed aspirin . . . and coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. The steady beat took on a more insistent rhythm, until it dawned on her someone was knocking. She managed to roll out of bed, grab her robe, and make her way to the front door.

  “Ms. Beebe, are you awake?” The sound of one of the guard’s voices wiped the remaining fog from her brain.

  She shoved her tangled hair from her face and cracked open the door to peer out. “Yes. I’m awake. What is it?”

  Pete, the older of the two guards, met her gaze with an amused grin. “Jake called. Told us you might be needing this.” He shoved a tall Styrofoam cup toward her. “I ran to the coffee shop down the street and picked up a cappuccino. I hope you like ‘em.”

  Angela squealed with delight and opened the door wide, reaching for the coffee. “Will you marry me?” she exclaimed.

  Both of the guards chuckled as she lifted the cup to her mouth and took a reverent sip. Just the smell was making her headache better.

  “Well,” Pete said, on a teasing note, “Jake gets the credit, I’m afraid. You might need to ask him that question.” He handed her a generic packet of pain relievers. “He also thought you might need these.”

  Heat rose to her cheeks at Pete’s smirk.

  “Well, umm, thank you,” she said softly and closed the door. The sound of their quiet laughter lingered in the air after it clicked shut. She washed down two pain relievers with the coffee and then headed into the bathroom to brush the cotton taste from her mouth.

  Working the tangles from her hair, memories of the prior evening flooded in. Jake had kissed her. Again. Told her he wanted her. A shiver of nervous anticipation ran up her spine. He’d sounded like a man who had every intention of making love to her. Her heart raced like a wild stallion across the open plains. She took a calming breath. Jake would never hurt her.

  He isn’t Scott.

  Logically she knew that, but the part of her that’d been terrorized during her marriage wasn’t convinced. At least, not completely.

  The pain reliever began to do its thing. Angela lifted both her hands to rub her temples again as the pain eased. A nice hot bath should finish the job.

  When the tub filled, she stripped off her nightgown and lowered herself into the hot steamy water.

  Heaven.

  It was impossible to relax completely and enjoy her bath, knowing someone wanted her dead. Her mind searched for a reason why someone would want to kill her. What could she know about Scott’s business that was important? The only thing she could think of was the argument she’d interrupted between Scott and that guy.

  Neither man had been too happy about it. That night Scott had punished her for the intrusion. She tensed, then slammed the door on the painful memory. Then there was Jake. Just thinking of him eased her tension a little. He’d promised to keep her safe and she believed him.

  Her headache disappeared along with the glorious foaming bubbles, prompting her to get out of the tub. She tugged on a pair of dark, olive-colored Capri’s and an oversized Green Bay Packer T-shirt and headed barefoot into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. The sunflower clock on the wall read nearly ten o’clock. Her stomach gave an impatient growl as she opened the refrigerator, retrieving eggs a
nd cheese for an omelet.

  After finishing breakfast and cleaning the kitchen, she made her bed, then straightened and dusted the living room, until she had nothing else to bide her time. She paced the floor, restless. What was she supposed to do to fill her time until the trial? She gave a frustrated snort and headed into the kitchen to see what kind of supplies they’d provided for her.

  Baking was her outlet. Scott never let her leave the house alone. If she had, she’d pay a high price for her disobedience. Baking had kept her sane, giving her something to concentrate on other than her fury at being trapped. She checked through the kitchen for the necessary ingredients, and put together a short list of items that she would need.

  Angela went to the front door and peered out the peephole. Pete and the younger guard sat just outside. She cracked it open, sticking her head out.

  “Pete, could you pick up some cooking items for me?” She held out the list. “I’m bored and feel like baking.”

  His eyebrows arched. “Well, sure. I think we can do that. Whatcha makin’?”

  “Pear-Hazelnut Tarts.” She gave him a smile. “I’ll share some with you two.”

  The younger guard jumped to his feet and grabbed the list from Pete’s hand. “I’ll pick it up for you.” He glanced down at the list, then back up with a confused look. “Is sea salt different from regular salt?”

  Pete rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Just ask someone at the counter, they’ll get it for you.”

  Angela chuckled. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

  “Steve, ma’am.”

  “Thanks, Steve.”

  Within half an hour, Steve was back with what she needed. First thing after lunch, she’d start baking.

  “So, Rick, let's recap. What do we know?” Jake placed his empty cup of coffee on the table.

  Rick tossed a folder on the table next to his cup. “New ballistic testing confirms the spent shotgun shells found on Slater’s property were fired from a sawed-off Remington Express shotgun. The same one found at the bottom of the lake on his property and identified as the murder weapon.”

  “Cool. That’s the kind of evidence a jury can’t ignore.”

  Rick grinned. “Hang on, there’s more.”

  Jake stared at him. “Well, get to it.”

  “As you know, they analyzed Slater’s cell phone records and established a route from the murder scene to the bowling alley where Beebe’s SUV was dumped.”

  “They traced the cell tower pings on any calls he made or received the night of the murders. He placed twelve outgoing calls and received seventeen incoming calls over a four-hour period to and from the same cell number.”

  “Okay. And that means, what exactly?”

  “It appears he had an accomplice.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Well, the calls began at eight forty-five p.m., and ended at around one-thirty a.m. The first call Slater made was traced to somewhere near the bowling alley. We believe the person he called then drove to Slater’s property, making several calls to him in the process.

  Jake nodded. “So he called someone near the bowling alley to come help dispose of the bodies?”

  “Yeah, that’s what it looks like,” Rick acknowledged. “But it gets even more interesting. For the next couple of hours no further calls were made from either cell phone. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Then at around midnight, the calls started again. Cell tower records show the same path across town, stopping at the bowling alley.”

  Jake shot to his feet, energized at the prospect of having a new suspect to interrogate. Stop whoever was trying to hurt Angela.

  “All right,” Jake said. “They dispose of the bodies, then one person drives the SUV and the other follows with his own car, dumping the SUV at the bowling alley. And we know this because they talked to each other on their cell phones while they traveled?”

  “Yep, dumb asses.” Rick snorted. “It fits the timeline.”

  “Do we have a name?”

  “Yep. And it’s not a him, it’s a her. Susan Rivera, Slater’s girlfriend.”

  “He involved his girlfriend in a double murder?” Jake asked incredulously. “What a dick.” He shook his head. “Have you picked her up for questioning?”

  “Yep. They’re looking for her now. As soon as she’s in custody, I’ll let you know.”

  Angela poured the flour and sea salt into a bowl, cut small chunks of butter into a separate bowl, then placed both in the freezer to cool, setting the oven timer for fifteen minutes. She scrounged around the cupboards looking for a cutting board or baking sheet. Not finding either, she scrubbed the counter instead, to roll out the dough. A knock sounded at the door.

  “Just a minute,” she shouted. Hurrying to the door, she checked the peephole to see Jake talking with Pete. Her pulse raced. Although still fuzzy from last night, she vividly recalled the taste of him, the feel of his lips as he kissed her. Her stomach fluttered. She braced herself against unwanted emotions and turned the knob, swinging the door open.

  She met Jake’s amused gaze. He grinned. “Hey, Angel.”

  “Hi.” The tiny flutter in her belly exploded into a whirlwind of soaring butterfly wings, and she nearly groaned aloud at her weakness. She flashed the other two men a quick smile, then dashed back into the kitchen.

  She opened the freezer, took out the bowls, and placed them on the counter. The front door clicked shut, and she heard Jake make his way to the kitchen. She kept busy with her task, not yet ready to meet his gaze, much too aware of him. Her traitorous body refused to cooperate with her sensible brain that was telling her to put a stop to whatever was between them.

  Footsteps sounded across the kitchen floor. “What are you doing?”

  She looked his way and her heart did a double rat-a-tat against her chest. His mesmerizing hazel eyes watched her like a hungry lion, the swirling shades of green and brown filled with heat and desire. She reached for her pendant and twirled it between her fingers.

  “Baking.”

  “What?”

  “QUICK PUFF PASTRY.” Angela turned back to the counter, reached into the bowl of butter to separate the chunks, before tossing them into the bowl of flour. “I have to work quickly, while it’s still cool.” Picking up a knife, she mixed the ingredients until the butter was well coated with the flour.

  “Oh,” he said, amusement lacing his voice. He moved closer to stare over her shoulder. “Can I help?”

  Angela poured the pile of flour and butter onto the clean counter and shaped it into a round-shaped well. Heat from Jake’s body wrapped around her.

  All she had to do was lean back a mere fraction of an inch to have him pressed against her. Before she gave in to the temptation, she moved slightly away and picked up a measuring spoon. “Well, if you could get me the measuring cup of water from the refrigerator, that’d be great.”

  Jake gave her a disarming smile, before turning to retrieve the water. Angela was unable to take her eyes off him as he walked with nonchalant grace to the refrigerator. Her pulse quickened, his overwhelming presence and sexy, well-built body making the tiny kitchen seem even smaller. She gulped as he made his way back over to her, handing her the water.

  When she just stared at him, he grinned and quirked a brow.

  She licked her lips. “Um. Thank you.”

  She quickly turned back to the counter, added two tablespoons of ice water into the well of the flour and mixed it with her fingers. She glanced his way, chewing her bottom lip. He leaned one hip against the counter, arms crossed over a wide masculine chest, his dark penetrating eyes watched her with amusement, and something else she couldn’t define.

  Attempting to concentrate on the task at hand, she dribbled a few more drops of ice water into the mixture. This was a delicate recipe and required her full attention, and he was distracting her. She glared at him.

  “I talked to Rick today about the trial,” he said.

  Angela added another drop of water and began to knead the doug
h. “What about it?”

  “We plan to bring you in through the back. You’ll stay in one of the jury rooms until time for your testimony.”

  “Okay.” She just wanted to get her testimony over with and get back to her life. A life she had just started rebuilding. Angela formed the dough into a square. “Can you hand me the container of plastic wrap?” She tilted her head to the point behind him on the counter.

  “Sure.” He picked up the wrap and handed it to her, not immediately releasing it when she took it. Their eyes locked and an electrical current passed between them. His gaze darkened. She inhaled sharply and lowered her eyes to his chest. Jake released the container.

  Angela turned back to wrap the dough before placing it in the refrigerator and setting the timer. She rinsed her hands, glancing back to where Jake still leaned against the counter. “Now it has to firm up.”

  His lips curved into a lopsided smile and he arched a brow.

  Warmth crept up her neck as her gaze dropped to his crotch. There was no denying the hard bulge in his jeans. He was plenty firm. She licked her dry lips again.

  Jake chuckled and her gaze flew back to his. Heat scorched her cheeks. She’d been staring. He strode to her, stopping just before their bodies touched.

  “How long until it’s firm?” His voice held amusement, although his hazel eyes held only heat.

  “About twenty minutes,” she croaked.

  “Not enough time.” He reached out and placed a hand around her waist, burying the other into her hair at the base of her neck. “Not nearly enough time.” He tugged her against him and devoured her mouth.

  Jake knew he shouldn’t be kissing her. But she’d been driving him crazy from the moment she’d opened the door in that outfit. How could she manage to look so damn hot in nothing more than a pair of pants and Green Bay Packer T-shirt? Admittedly, the pants were skin-tight and stopped just below her knees. She looked innocent and adorable in the oversized T-shirt. Cute and sexy. He wanted to both fuck her and protect her from his own carnal intentions.