by Mary Calmes
"Wait," Kevin said, reaching for me.
"Please," Kage warned him, "I don't wanna hurt you." But you could just tell from his tone that he hoped Kevin would try.
"Hurt me?"
One eyebrow arched slowly.
Kevin's jaw clenched tight. "You think you could hurt me?"
It sounded like a dare.
"Oh hell, yeah," the detective said smugly, smirking the last.
In his street clothes, Sam Kage looked even bigger than he had in his shirt and tie the night before. The jeans showed off his long, muscular legs, his slim waist, the T-shirt clung to his wide chest and shoulders, tight across bulging biceps, triceps, the veins in his arms and hands visible. He had that v-shape to him, all solid, heavy, rippling muscle, and I realized that standing there in a gay dance club he probably had more than just Kevin and me looking at him. The slate blue eyes, short, golden brown hair, thick brows, full lips, chiseled jaw.... I had missed that the man was a walking wet dream the night before. Probably because of the way he looked at me. Like he hated me.
"Who are you?" Kevin snapped at him.
Detective Kage just shot him a look before he gave my arm a tug. It was different from when Kevin had pulled; I nearly came off my feet. The man had no idea how strong he was.
He wanted to steer me out of the club but I darted over to Evan to say good-bye. When I put my hand on my friend's shoulder, he turned around to look at me. I saw his eyes fill with Detective Kage. He didn't even see me. I was an afterthought.
"Jesus, Jory who's this?" He sounded almost breathless.
I stepped sideways so I could introduce them. "Evan Rheems, this is Detective Sam Kage. Detective Kage, my buddy Evan."
He nodded but didn't hold out his hand. "Okay. Can we go?"
"Oh no, you can't go," Evan argued, reaching out, putting a hand on my wrist. "It's my birthday. Jory and I haven't even had our—"
"He's coming with me," Detective Kage said flatly and I felt his hand on the back of my neck. "So you'll hafta do whatever you people do another time."
"You people?" Evan looked at me, eyebrows raised, the question there in his gaze.
It felt like my right eye was twitching. "It's not; he's not with me, Ev. He's...."
"I'm done," he grumbled, and I felt his hand clench on the back of my neck. "Outside, now."
I leaned in and kissed Evan on the cheek, promised to call him the next day, and asked the detective to get his hand off me.
"If you walk toward the goddamn door," he barked at me.
I started toward the exit but a guy stepped in front of me.
"Hey," he smiled at me. "Do you remem—"
Heavy hands clamped down on my shoulders, squeezed tight. "Excuse us," he said behind me.
The guy looked up from my face and saw Detective Kage behind me. He moved out of the way and I got shoved forward hard.
Outside on the street I pivoted around to face him.
"What the hell was that about?"
"Why don't you just paint a goddamn target on your chest, you fuckin' idiot?"
I started away from him but he grabbed my arm and swung me back around to face him.
"Christ, can you stop manhandling me," I snapped at him, twisting my arm free, annoyed.
"Sorry," he said automatically, no sincerity at all; hands shoved down into his pockets. "But you're just not listening. I don't get you."
"Whatever." I sighed. "Listen, I gotta eat, all right, and then I promise to go home."
He nodded. "Fine."
I gave him one last look and then turned to walk away.
"Wait."
"God, what?"
"Will you stop please?"
I stopped but I didn't turn around.
"I gotta eat too."
I looked at him over my shoulder. "I'm getting breakfast.
You want that?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
"Okay." I smiled, turning to look at him. "Where's the tank you drive?"
I got just barely a smile, the slightest curl to his lip.
* * * *
I can talk when I have to and I had to at dinner. I kept up a steady stream of conversation, from CSI to how I was thinking of becoming a Catholic because I liked all the different saints. I had him try my banana pancakes and smiled wide when he admitted that they weren't bad.
"Christ, you talk a lot," he said under his breath.
I went silent and drank my orange juice.
"Hey."
I looked up into his silver-blue eyes.
"I didn't mean you should stop. You just remind me of my sisters, is all."
"That can't be good," I said, leaning back from the table.
"No," he said quickly. "It is actually."
I nodded and drained my glass. "So you want something else or are ya done?"
"I want something," he said, really looking at me.
And I got the weirdest feeling, which I was sure was just wishful thinking on my part, that maybe he was talking about me. Because even though the man obviously hated me, the man was gorgeous. Impossible for me not to notice the deep laugh lines around his eyes, the scar over his left eyebrow, or the way his clothes clung to him like a second skin. And even though I had complained earlier, the idea of him being rough with me was very exciting. Every guy that had ever tried to throw me up against a wall or down on a bed I had been able to get free of. Most of them didn't really want to be that physical anyway, didn't want to wrestle me into submission, it was all for show. But Detective Kage could make me do whatever he wanted. The defined muscles, his size, the look in the dark eyes all told me as much.
"Cold?" he asked when I shivered.
I shook my head and took a breath. "No, I'm good," I said, getting up, pulling out my wallet.
"I'll get it," he said stiffly, rising to stand beside me.
"Oh hell, no," I told him, putting twenty-five down. I had to cover the tip too. "I'd rather get shot then owe you anything."
He glared at me and I laughed before I gave him a pat on the arm. "I'll see ya."
His hand clamped down hard on my shoulder to hold me where I was. "I'll drive you home. Just stay."
So I stood beside him while he put his half down and then walked out ahead of him.
"You wanna cuff me so people don't think we're dating?" I asked him casually.
"No one in their right mind would think we were together."
"No?"
"Yeah, no."
"Why not?"
"Because." But he didn't explain, so I let it go.
The alley was dark but he was right behind me so I didn't worry. I saw his car as soon as we came out the other side and I was glad because I was starting to freeze.
"Can I ask you a question?"
I winced.
"What's with that?"
I tried to smile. "Sorry?"
"Don't say you're sorry when you're not. What's with the flinching? Whaddya think I'm gonna ask, for crissakes?"
"Something horrible."
He squinted at me. "Nice."
"It's like navigating a minefield," I muttered as we reached the SUV.
The car alarm chirped as the door opened and I climbed in.
I leaned over to crack his door for him and then buckled in before he barked at me.
"Why don't you have a fuckin' jacket?" he asked me curtly.
I shrugged. "I do, it's just not super cold yet. It's a pain in the ass to carry it to the club, check it, and then remember to get it after."
"So getting pneumonia is more your speed?"
"Detective, did you know that disease is actually caused by germs and not the cold?"
"Funny," he said flatly.
I leaned my head back and got comfortable. My phone rang and it was Kevin so I let it go to voicemail. Taylor called, and then Nick, but I didn't feel like talking. It was warm in the car and with both of us silent, I started to doze. When my phone rang again I put it on vibrate.
"That thing ever stop ringing?
"
"Mmmm," I answered him, half awake.
"You're popular, huh?"
I grunted as he pulled the car out into the street. He got on his phone and I listened absently as he talked about times and dates. It was hard to imagine the life of a police detective. I wondered what it was like to have a job that could never be walked away from.
The car was warm, the ride was smooth, and there was the low hum of the tires on the road. I lost track of time.
"Jory."
I felt the back of his fingers slide up my throat, and I realized that the car had stopped.
"Shit, sorry." I took a breath, sitting up. Hard to know how long I'd been asleep. "I'm crap in cars. I always pass out."
"Me too, if I'm not driving," he said softly.
"Thanks," I said, my voice husky as I opened the door to get out.
"Hey."
I looked back at him.
"Watch yourself, all right?"
I nodded.
"You're an idiot for not going into the program."
"I don't want a new identity, Detective. I—"
He put up a hand. "Spare me, all right? Just try and be a little less visible."
I promised him I would work on it.
He muttered something I didn't catch.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Are you worried about me, Detective?" I asked hopefully.
"No," he grunted. "I just don't wanna find you with your brains blown out."
Which basically closed the door on my wishful thinking.
Chapter Four
People constantly surprise me. I understand when you're out at a club in the tightest, sexiest clothes you own that getting hit on is the response you're after. But fresh from the gym, hair still wet from the showers, hooked up to your iPod is not the time for someone to try and pick you up. So when a guy leaned against me at the salad bar the following night, I was scowling by the time I turned around to look at him. I had walked through my day at the office in a haze and went to work out in hopes that it would clear my head. I couldn't quite seem to start feeling like myself. Being accosted by strangers was doing nothing for my mood.
"Jory."
I waited. People knowing my name never puts me more or less at ease with them.
He smiled quickly. "Trey Wyndham. I met you at Richard's party last Saturday."
I had no idea who he was.
His lowered his voice. "You went home with me."
That bit of information was not designed to jog my memory. I went home with lots of people.
He cleared his throat. "You don't remember?"
It was rude to tell the truth in this situation. "No, I remember. How are you?"
Instant smile. "You were gone in the—"
"How are you?" I repeated, cutting him off.
"Oh... fine."
"Well, it was nice to see you again." I smiled, closing up my spinach salad and turning to leave. After having picked everything, I realized I didn't want it. It was typical of me.
"Wait."
I kept moving, but before I could walk toward the cashier, he stepped in front of me.
"Don't just dismiss me," he snapped irritably. "I want to talk to you."
I took out my other headphone and gave him my attention.
"You know what?" He moved out of my way. "Forget it.
This whole exasperated, annoyed look you're giving me is bullshit. I don't deserve to—"
I turned around him and started fiddling with my iPod again.
"Jory!"
I kept walking, not fast, just moving at my normal pace.
"Goddamnit, wait!" he yelled, suddenly in front of me again, barring my path.
I stopped. "Whaddya want?"
"I want you to not sound like you're bored out of your mind."
"Sorry," I said automatically.
"No, you're not." He forced a laugh. "I don't remember you being such an asshole."
"Okay."
He let out a sharp breath, raking his fingers through his hair. "Richard told me you eat at this deli a lot, so I've been sort of hanging out here and... I got your number from him but you never pick up and you don't return your messages and.... I just want to know what's up."
I squinted at him. "What's up is that I don't return calls to numbers I don't know, and the idea that you're stalking me is creepy as hell."
"What? No... I don't need to stalk anyone, I—"
"Fine, then I'll see ya."
But when I tried to walk by, he grabbed a fistful of my sweat jacket.
"Jory, I want to see you."
Was he kidding? "Are you kidding?"
He slowly released me. "That night was amazing. You... I'd like to—"
"I gotta go."
But again he stepped in front of me, making sure I couldn't leave.
"What the hell?" I groaned, hungry, annoyed, and tired. It was a bad combination.
"Why did you leave? Why didn't you stay?"
Since I couldn't place him, I went with what seemed logical. "We were done." It seemed self-explanatory to me.
"Jory, you—"
"Listen, man, I need to go, so—"
"Just wait," he said, his hands up to keep me from walking away.
"What are you doing?"
The sound of the voice, the level of irritation was unmistakable. I couldn't help the smile as I turned and found Detective Kage. "Hi."
He was scowling at me, which was the norm for him whenever he saw me.
"How are you?"
"I asked you a question."
"Excuse me, I was—"
"Fuck off," the detective told Trey before he grabbed my bicep and dragged me after him.
I didn't fight or argue or anything. I let him manhandle me because, for whatever reason, it felt good to be taken care of.
He made me feel protected and at that moment, I liked it.
He stopped suddenly and I had to tilt my head back to see his face. The man was very tall. "I can't decide whether you're stupid or just—"
"Thank you for saving me from that guy," I interrupted, staring up into his gray-blue eyes. "He was being a total dick."
"Why?"
I shrugged. "He just didn't want to take no for an answer."
"Seems like maybe that happens to you a lot."
"Maybe," I agreed.
He nodded slowly. "What is that salad?"
I chuckled. "From the sneer of contempt, I'm gonna assume you don't eat much salad."
"You would be right."
I glanced into the shopping basket he was carrying and couldn't contain my gasp.
"What?"
"Jesus," I looked at all the frozen food. "You're not gonna eat that, are you?"
"Yeah, why?"
I picked up one of the frozen appetizers. "Do you have any idea the kind of preservatives that are in this?"
"And I should care why?"
I looked back up into his eyes. "Detective, do you have any idea what this shit will do to your arteries?"
He grunted.
"And your cholesterol and your—"
"I don't eat salad."
"You don't hafta eat salad," I assured him. "But you could eat—"
He put up a hand. "I'm due at my buddy's house and he said to bring stuff."
"So you're planning to kill everyone?"
He rolled his eyes. "You know what, why don't you just mind your own goddamn business, buy your rabbit food, and I'll drop you at your place on my way."
I shrugged and turned to walk toward the cashier.
"Wait."
I looked at him over my shoulder.
He scowled at me for several minutes. "Shit. Show me what to get."
"What?"
"Don't be an ass, just show me."
But I wasn't trying to be a jerk. I was just surprised.
"You'll let me help?"
"Yeah."
I felt a weight suddenly slide off me. There was something about spending time with the ma
n that lightened me. "Okay, then. What do you want to take over there?"
His scowl darkened. "Like I know. Just... I'll follow you."
I walked directly to the produce area and started putting things in his basket. I only ever bought organic even though it cost more because, as I had told him earlier, I didn't do preservatives. I put apricots in the basket and carrots and green beans and zucchini and plum tomatoes. He followed me all over the store, listening as I talked, telling him what to make with the ingredients I was getting. When I was done, having placed two bottles of Chardonnay into the basket last of all, I looked up at his face.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said flatly.
"About what?"
"That's just it, what the hell is a fritter whatever?"
"A frittata."
"What is that?"
"It's kinda like a quiche."
"So why not say quiche?"
"'Cause it's different, not as heavy. More like a tart."
He groaned. "Whatever... you can come with me and make it yourself."
I was stunned.
"Christ, could your eyes get any bigger?"
"I'm sorry, what'd you say?"
"Just come with me." He was exasperated. "This way I can go to my friend's place since I'm late, you can eat, and then I'll dump you at home."
"Will your friends want me there?"
"They won't give a shit."
The idea of going home alone was not appealing in the least. The idea of going out to a club and sleeping with somebody else was not appealing either. The only thing I wanted to do was spend time with Detective Kage. He was new and interesting and just looking at him made heat race over my skin.
"Okay."
"Fine." He sighed like he was tired. I noticed then the dark circles under his eyes.
"Maybe you should go home to bed, huh?"
"Just get in line," he barked at me, shoving my shoulder to get my feet moving.
I went ahead of him into the line at the cashier.
I enjoyed people watching and seeing the woman count back his change was fun. The way her hands trembled, the sharp intake of breath when his eyes met hers, the flashing smile she gave him was very telling. I was not the only one who saw the appeal of Detective Kage. I wondered what his friends would be like.
* * * *
It was loud. There was football on in the living room, men drinking beer and yelling at the TV, music on in the kitchen and women talking in the dining room. The kitchen smelled amazing, and it was warm as several women moved around setting up appetizers. Sam shoved me into the room with the groceries, told them that I was going to make his part, and left me there.
