by Traci Hall
“How can you say that?”
“I was named after Namaka. No special privilege; if anything, I had more curses and tragedy to deal with—until I left the island, and moved away from the ocean. Chicago’s tall towers protect me now.”
Cradled her like a baby.
“K, you’ve got to help Rita out. Who else will watch the animals?”
K folded her hands over her knee. “The doorman. He’s done it before. What about you? In a pinch? I need to be back in time for Jamal’s hearing. If I don’t give the court my testimony he could be taken from the Foster Center and tossed in jail.” At sixteen, Jamal was a gangly kid. He’d be brutalized in prison.
“We are on the same side, here,” Joe said. “I’m all for protecting the innocent. But I’ve learned that most people, even the ones we care about, aren’t all that innocent. Jamal won’t mean to, but he’ll screw up. Don’t be naïve about it.”
“I don’t like how you’re talking to me,” she said. “I think Jamal will be the kind to make it. I understand what you’re saying, but Jamal is different. He wants to learn.”
“How about a quick overnight trip, and then fly back here?” he said. “America Airlines is having a sale right now on round trip flights to Chicago. I checked, to make sure I could afford you.”
Unless it was free? Probably out of her price range. “I don’t see the point in coming back once I leave.”
“Let’s go get lunch.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I feel at odds and ends.” There was no reason to build a friendship with Joe.
“Because you don’t have a plan. Let me help you make a plan…”
Was there any harm in that? It helped having someone around to bounce ideas off of—she’d just gotten used to talking to the ceramic pig in her office.
“I don’t know, Joe.”
“Be in the moment.” He reached across the console, cupped the back of her head and lightly brushed the white strands of hair with his thumb. “Don’t worry about what might happen a year down the road.”
He lightly massaged her nape and she softened. “Okay. Sandwiches at the park. You tell me about your master plan.”
“I’m just saying that you don’t have to give up Chicago to be with me.”
If he kept massaging her neck like that, she wouldn’t mind moving to Timbuktu to be with him and his magic hands.
Just maybe after lunch, he’d take her to bed.
*****
Joe loved the silky feel of K’s skin, especially where it was super-fine at her neck, and behind her ears or knees. Skin that was fresh, soft. Sensual.
“I think you should stay for the week,” he said. “We can figure everything else out on Monday.” He dropped his hand, slowly inching her dress up to show a little thigh.
“Monday is the hearing.” Her voice lowered and she cleared her throat.
“Fly back Sunday, then. Return Monday night.” He traced circles over the smooth skin above her knee, the feel of her skin turning him on. “I’ll pick you up. Take you out to dinner. Maybe back to my place.”
“So we can…?”
“I already told you that when you and I get together, it will be making love. The real deal, K, so just get used to it.” He tugged her dress back down to her knee, wishing she wasn’t so far away.
She looked out the window rather than argue as he drove to the specialty sub place that was so popular among the locals, the entire time searching for a black Lincoln. He’d driven around for a while after dropping her off but the car was long gone. He’d left a message with his partner to keep an eye out for it, saying it was a suspicious vehicle. But he wasn’t ready to tell the chief what had really happened. It would mean leaving, hiding, when he wanted to fight.
“Any special requests?” he asked.
“No.” She changed her mind right away. “I mean, no artificial crabmeat, okay? I can’t stand the stuff.”
“Pinky swear,” he said, hooking his finger to hers, letting his mouth touch hers just slightly. “Nothing artificial. You and me are the real deal.”
K sighed and moved closer to him.
“I’ll go order,” he said, reluctantly pulling back.
“No rush,” she quipped, switching gears from sex-kitten to lawyer in the blink of an eye as she dug her phone from her purse. “I’ve got some emails to answer.”
She was so together. A professional. His life was shit—emotionally, he was working his way out of the fire. Financially, he made decent money for a cop and he’d have a great retirement before he turned forty. Hell, he had time for a second career, if he wanted. But he didn’t have a house or stability that maybe she needed. Getting shot at this morning hadn’t helped win her toward his way of thinking.
He could buy a house. He wasn’t set on living on the sea. She’d stolen his heart, captured it without trying, when he’d pulled her from the ocean. How to make her see that they were meant to be together, especially when her hippie parents had ruined the mystical for her? He was just finding a spiritual way of looking at things himself. Chakras, energy and auras.
Maybe he could help her rediscover that part of herself she’d closed off when she’d left the island. She didn’t need to be alone.
If Joe had his way, she would never be alone again.
He walked into the sub shop and ordered all-meat subs, loaded. Chips, two pickles and two bottles of water.
He paid, taking the white paper bag with his food, and got back in the car. The rear window had to be replaced, but he’d take care of it after the department went over it tonight. He scanned the street. Nothing. Right now he wanted to convince K to come back after she flew home. How to do that?
He handed her the bag, which she put at her feet, giving him a funny look.
“What’s wrong?”
She held up her phone, shaking it at him. “Jamal’s court date was just rescheduled. For next week.”
He grinned.
“Seems the judge had a family emergency, and had to push everything back.” She put her phone into her purse. “Coincidence?”
“Fate, I’m telling you.” Joe started the car and laughed, checking the rearview mirror before pulling into traffic. “You and me, babe.”
“I am having a hard time believing this,” she said, leaning against the passenger side door and allowing lots of space between them inside his Honda.
“It is time for you to stop running so fast, K.”
“It’s what I do.” She crossed her arms, her body language closed.
“You might have had good reason.” He turned left, taking them to El Prado Park. They got out of the car and he fed the meter. “I work right over there, behind the town hall,” he said, pointing to a brightly painted cluster of single story buildings. “The fire department is right next door, too.”
“Let’s go see if they found the Lincoln,” she said, her expression concerned as she shaded her eyes against the sun.
“They’d call me,” Joe said smoothly.
“Maybe they’ll want to transfer you right away, to save you from any more death threats. Aren’t you scared?”
“No.”
“I don’t believe you.” She followed him to a bench that over-looked the ocean and sat next to him. The sun was warm but not hot, the breeze off the water pleasant.
K unpacked the bag, handing him a napkin and a sub wrapped in white waxed paper. “Chips, too? This is a feast. What did you get?”
“All meat.”
“Perfect.” She smiled at him, touching his hand. “Thanks for lunch. This is really nice.”
“You aren’t going to take off in a rage and yell at Namaka?” he teased.
Her eyes flashed with humor. “I’m glad you find it funny, but please don’t drag this story out at parties, okay?”
“You had my antenna for trouble going, actually. This gorgeous businesswoman yanking an unwilling suitcase across the sand, your chin up and fire breathing from your nose, the water in your sights—it wouldn�
��t have surprised me if you’d walked on water or split the sea in half just by pointing your finger. You shot off powerful sparks that sizzled once you hit the surf. Wanna hear something strange?”
She swallowed. “You’re quite the story teller,” K said. “I don’t know.”
“That sea was flat as glass, K, until you went in it. All of a sudden there’s waves, and a riptide?” He shook his head. “You almost drowned, and you were born in the water. I’ve been trying to figure it out.”
“Don’t hurt yourself,” she said, dabbing her lips with the napkin though she hadn’t had a bite yet to eat. “I was cursing Namaka.”
“Cursing the sea goddess?” He took a big bite of the sub. “That explains everything.”
“I never know whether or not you’re being serious.”
“I am serious. Cursing a goddess that is your namesake, that you grew up believing in and have turned your back on, well, it might make some waves.”
“I don’t believe in her because she isn’t real.”
“You wouldn’t have cursed her if you didn’t believe a little bit.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“I believe there is something bigger than this. Something besides what we see, feel, hear, touch. Want to know why?”
Sipping from her water bottle, she said, “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”
He finished half his sandwich in a few bites, wadding the paper around the bottom half to catch the extra oil. “I believe because when I got this scar, here?” Joe pointed down to his side. Though the shirt covered the scar, K would never forget what it looked like.
“I was being tortured and it freaking hurt,” Joe said in a rush of words. “But if I gave up any names, I’d ruin everything we’d worked for, going on two years. Good people, innocent people, would die if I broke down.”
K’s eyes welled and she scrunched her nose, fighting the fall of tears.
“But I was in agony. Not only are they physically messing you up, they get inside your head, telling you there’s nobody coming. That you’ve been betrayed. Set up.” Joe put the other half of his sandwich on the bag and wiped his hands on a napkin. “I heard my dad’s voice in my head, stronger and louder than the guys who wanted me to suffer a slow death. He lent me his strength. I felt him, in here.” Joe patted his chest. “My dad died five years ago, but he was there for me, K. My life depended on it.”
A single tear escaped, falling down the curve of her cheek to the napkin in her lap.
“I am glad for you,” she said before looking up. “That you felt your dad. I prayed to hear from Paolo. But he was gone. I was left with emptiness. We thought we were soul mates, but he was torn from my life and I never got to say good-bye. Or feel his arms around me again. I tried everything, including my mother’s wacky ideas, to connect with him, but there was nothing.”
“Not all souls stick around,” Joe said, his eyes sad. “I’ve done a ton of research and the fact that you can’t hear Paolo doesn’t take away the fact that he loved you. What you had together mattered, even if it was taken away. Everyone has an individual journey to learn while here on earth.”
“You sound like my mother, on those few times a year she’s relatively coherent. I learned to be alone, and my journey doesn’t include you on a permanent basis, or anybody else.”
Joe took her uneaten sub and put it in the waiting bag along with what remained of his. He faced her on the bench, then, without waiting for her to argue, pulled her toward him for a kiss. Their lips met in a swirl of heat—he’d kissed enough women to know that this was special on so many levels.
“Fuck it,” he said, throwing therapy to the ocean breeze. “Let’s go back to my place.”
Chapter Eleven
K’s breath caught and she stood to put her arms around Joe’s waist. He hugged her tight, tucking his chin over the top of her head. He made her feel safe. Protected. And even if this affair only lasted for the week she was here, she was all for it.
She’d go back to Chicago with incredible memories, and her heart still under lock and key.
“No regrets, though, okay? I’ll write a note to your doctor explaining it was a medical emergency.” She felt his length against her hip as he kissed the top of her head and had a difficult time keeping her hands to herself.
“My regret is that I can’t take you right here on this bench. But being as I’m an officer of the law, and my department is directly behind us, it’s too risky.”
She skipped her fingers lightly down his abdomen. “Nothing the matter with a little risk.”
He tilted her chin up and stared directly into her eyes, creating sparks firing down to her belly. “Nothing at all.” He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, never releasing his steady gaze. Small nips of her lower lip, a sweep of his tongue behind her upper lip, shooting tremors through every nerve.
K couldn’t stop the small moan at the back of her throat. “You’re surprising,” she said, her breasts heavy. “Your first impression is misleading. Prince Charming with the well-cut hair and hazel eyes, then you see the tattoos on your arms and your soul patch and it’s Prince Charming with an edge. But you kiss like a bad boy, Joe Porter. And I like it.”
He crushed her to him, then pulled back. “Damn it. Let’s go. Get the bag, get in the car. Quick, before I say to hell with it and we get arrested for public indecency.”
“You have such a way with words.” K did a last check to make sure that they’d gotten everything, looking up toward the street to see a black Charger drive slowly past. The windows were tinted so she couldn’t see who was driving, but alarms went off in her head. “Joe, hey, Joe, do you know the person in that car?” She pointed.
Joe turned and followed the direction of her finger, but the car had sped up and out of sight.
“What kind of car?”
“A Charger, I think. All black. Tinted windows. They seemed interested in us.”
“Who wouldn’t be, babe? You’re dynamite, and we were just making out in public.”
“What if they know the people in the Lincoln?”
Her cheeks flushed. But she couldn’t say anything about ‘feelings’ when she’d just said she didn’t believe in them. Honestly? Of course there were times when she felt the prickle of intuition, but that didn’t mean she believed in psychics.
Living in a concrete jungle she was able to close herself off to the elements. No need for goddesses when you could call a cab. She’d made herself safe by cutting out all hocus pocus or hippie Buttercup crap. Being here was too much like Molokai so maybe that’s why she was feeling everything so sharply now. “Considering you just had your window shot out, I wouldn’t dismiss it so lightly.”
Joe’s expression went flat. “I don’t dismiss anything. But right now? I want you, naked, at my house. If that’s not what you want, just say so. But I don’t want to talk about windows and cars and death, for just an hour or two.”
She nodded. “Life it is.” K got in the passenger side of the Honda, but the urgency between them had lessened. Rather than reach over to caress his leg, she kept her hands in her lap.
By the time they reached Joe’s small house just a few blocks from the beach, she was pretty sure she was making a mistake.
“I think,” she started to say.
“Please don’t go,” Joe said. He parked in the garage, got out, and opened her door for her. “I need you.” He held out his hand for hers.
Her hard heart shifted behind her breast. She put her hand in his, and he entwined their fingers, bringing her knuckles to his lips.
What woman didn’t want to be needed by the man she desired? Though her legs trembled, she allowed him to assist her from the car, and into his house. She was curious about him, what he had around him that was important enough to put in his home.
He brought her through the living room, decorated man-style in beige and black. Leather couch, large television, coffee table with three remotes. Big speakers on either side of the set, and a ba
g of chips, shut tight with a chip clip.
No empty beer bottles, she noticed.
“Want a drink?” he asked. “Wine, water? Soda?”
“A drink of water might be nice,” she said, her throat dry with nerves now that she knew they would be making love. The immediacy of their kiss at the bench had faded, leaving a heavy dose of anticipation in the air. She wanted him. Knew that being with Joe would change the way she viewed the world.
Oddly quiet, Joe opened the fridge and pulled out two bottles of water. He took off the top and handed one to her, twisted the plastic off of his and clicked it to hers. Unlike the clinking beer glasses last night, this sound made a wet thump.
They each drank, and K watched him swallow, intrigued by the maleness of his throat. The stubble along his jaw, the rougher texture to his skin. He leaned back against the refrigerator, she against the counter.
The energy between them was flammable, starting at an ember, growing to a red hot coal, to flickering licks of flame to full-on combustion. Yet they didn’t touch one another. Her nipples hardened with expectation of Joe’s touch, her lower belly clenched as moisture pooled between her legs.
She looked down at him and saw the growing hard on against his shorts, then, leisurely, as if she had all time in the world and wasn’t on the verge of jumping him in his own damn kitchen, she used her eyes to undress him—by the time she reached his chest, his nipples were as hard as hers.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice deep and husky.
K couldn’t speak, so she just nodded. Her hands shook as she put her bottle on the counter, and held out her hand.
Joe pulled her flush against his body and she felt him against her stomach. His desire fueled her own and she lifted her face for a kiss.
Instead, Joe spun her so that her back was to the cool refrigerator and his arms were bracketed on either side, trapping her. He kept her pinned with his legs, then with exquisite tenderness, he ran the pad of his thumb across her forehead, and down the ridge of her nose. He swept gently beneath each eye, across her cheekbones, along her jaw and at last he touched her mouth.
