Get to Me

by Lara Van Hulzen

  “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.” She added sugar to his mug and handed it to him with a wink. He put it to his lips and sipped to keep himself from vaulting the counter and kissing her senseless. However, it was steaming hot, and he burned the hell out of his mouth. His pride was grateful she had turned and didn’t see him wince.

  She brought her glass around the counter with her and sat on the stool next to his. Like many of the homes in Ocean Beach, the rooms were small, so he had to shift his legs to accommodate her. The scent of strawberries washed over him again, her body so close he could feel her body heat, even though their legs were at least a few inches apart.

  “I’m sorry I’m not much company.” She leaned forward on the counter, her head cradled by her arm. “I’m always exhausted after a wedding.”

  That was his cue. He should go. Instead he found himself saying, “Have you eaten much today? I could make you something.”

  Her head popped up. “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack.” He grinned and took another sip of coffee, now cooler, thankfully.

  With a dramatic sigh she placed her head back down again. “You have no idea how divine that sounds. I don’t think I’ve eaten since breakfast.”

  “What? Really? They don’t let you eat at these events?” Dane left his coffee and moved into the kitchen.

  “They do. But I always get so busy I don’t think about it. Then I’m beat when I get home so I usually walk in the door, strip down, and crawl straight into bed.”

  With that visual in his head, Dane leaned into the refrigerator to cool himself off. And to see what ingredients he had to work with. But mainly to cool off. She was killing him. Was she really that oblivious to how she affected him?

  ***

  Aimee eyed Dane’s über fine backside as he nosed through her refrigerator. Did she actually blurt out her nightly ritual of stripping down for bed? Good heavens, the holes in the filter from her brain to her mouth were especially large tonight. The stress from the vandalism must be getting to her. Either that or the gorgeous man making her dinner.

  He was graceful for a big guy. The tiny space didn’t give him much room to work with, but he moved from stove to pantry to fridge without a problem. She watched him work, content to have the time to take in the sight of him without being creepy. His jeans sat loose on his hips, a button-down shirt tucked behind a silver belt buckle and worn boots his go-to outfit when not working, apparently.

  “You okay?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “You sighed.”

  Her blush warmed her cheeks. She really needed to get a handle on the sighing. “Sorry. Tired.”

  He stopped and looked at her, not buying it for a second. After a wink, he continued on. With a dishtowel over one shoulder, he blocked her view of the stove, his broad shoulders taking up the entire space. Muscles moved beneath his shirt, causing Aimee to decide right then and there that, without a doubt, nothing was sexier than a man cooking. He turned and placed in front of her a huge, steaming omelet, complete with sour cream on top and salsa on the side.

  Wide-eyed, she looked from the plate to Dane.

  “What? Don’t you like salsa? Man, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked.” He reached for the plate to take it away.

  Aimee batted his hand. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

  He smiled and leaned on the counter.

  “You like it then?”

  She grabbed the fork he’d given her and took a huge bite. Various flavors dazzled on her tongue as she chewed. Cheddar cheese and spinach, mushrooms and green peppers danced over her taste buds. She moaned.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” He turned and began cleaning up.

  Aimee savored every bite, along with the sense of contentment. The sound of water running and dishes clanking lightly added symphony to her dining experience. Correction: there was nothing sexier than a man cooking for you and cleaning the kitchen afterward. Never before had she been so spoiled by a man other than her father.

  When she finished he took her plate, rinsed it, and put it in the dishwasher. In all honesty, this man was her dream.

  “That was amazing. I can’t thank you enough.”

  He shrugged and hung the dishtowel on the rack. “My pleasure. My mom taught me and my brother how to cook. I guess when she met my dad he was clueless about things like laundry, cleaning, and cooking. Took her twenty years to train him.” He smiled. “She vowed her sons would not leave her house without knowing how to take care of themselves. I still struggle with ironing a shirt, but I can do it.”

  Aimee eyeballed his current shirt. It looked ironed by a professional. Not sure why he felt insecure there.

  “Your family sounds close.”

  He nodded and looked at the floor, his grin fading.

  Note to self: family not an easy topic. Of course, that never stopped Aimee before. “You seem doubtful.”

  He shook his head and looked at her again. “You like tough topics, don’t you?”

  She shrugged. “Is it a tough topic?” She patted the stool next to her. “Come finish your coffee. I can nuke it for you. It’s gotten cold.”

  “That’s okay. I’ve got it.”

  He set his coffee in the microwave for a minute, not saying a word until he sat back down next to her. He wrapped his hands around the mug and looked straight ahead, not at her. “There really isn’t much to tell, Aimee. Honestly. We are close. Well, we were. But I messed that up.”

  He took a sip of coffee, his Adam’s apple working hard as he swallowed.

  “What did you do to change that?”

  “I made some bad decisions. Ones that put distance between us.”

  “They’re your parents though. Don’t you think they could forgive you?”

  “No. I can’t forgive myself. How could I ask them to?” He took another swig of coffee. The mug clanked when he set it back down on the counter.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He looked at her, startled. “For what?”

  “That you’re hurting.”

  He chuckled and shook his head.

  “What?”

  “I’ve just never had anyone respond that way.”

  “What way?”

  “Feeling sorry for me. I’m the one who screwed up.”

  “I don’t feel sorry for you, Dane. But we all make mistakes. And obviously whatever happened has hurt you. And your family. But I believe God can heal when we ask Him to.”

  Dane’s face went hard, his jaw clenched. “I used to believe that too.”

  Aimee’s heart fell. “Used to?”

  “Yeah. Used to. How can God forgive me at this point?”

  “I think you know the answer to that one. You just refuse to accept it.”

  His eyes found hers again, an intensity in them she hadn’t seen before. Not anger, more disbelief that she’d say such a thing. Well, that wasn’t a first for her. She was used to pushing people past their comfort zone. Her intentions were good. No one wanted to live in pain. At least, that’s what she believed anyway.

  Reaching out, she rubbed his back. He was tense now, his muscles tight. She hadn’t meant to do that.

  “I’m sorry. I tend to push.”

  He winked at her. A peace offering. “There you go with the apologizing again.”

  She winced. “Can I get you some more coffee? A fresh cup maybe?”

  “Thank you, but I should get going. I apologize for keeping you up this late as it is. I’m sure all you wanna do is fall into bed.”

  Her earlier words about stripping down crossed her mind and her cheeks flushed. Dane turned to rinse his mug in the sink, avoiding eye contact. Yes. She definitely needed to work on getting the foot out of her mouth that tended to live there.

  The front door opened and shut, the sound of Torie dropping her purse and keys on the entry table.

  “Hello! You home, Aim?”

  “In here,” Aimee answered.

  Dane leaned against the sink and cross
ed his arms over his chest. Aimee fought the desire to curl up in those arms and lay her head on said chest. She turned as Torie entered the kitchen.

  “Oh good, you’re here too, Dane. I need to talk to both of you.”

  Chapter 11

  Dane remained leaning against the counter.

  Torie placed her gun on the counter and looked around the kitchen. “My gosh, did you cook Aimee? It smells amazing in here.”

  Aimee grinned. “Dane did. He made me an omelet.”

  Torie looked back and forth between them. “Huh. Okaaaay.”

  “I’d be happy to make you one too.”

  The look on Torie’s face said it all. Dane took out the same ingredients and cookware he’d used only moments before for Aimee. Torie claimed a stool at the counter while Aimee made her a fresh cup of coffee.

  Torie let out a deep breath. “I can’t even tell you how awesome this is. Thanks, Dane. Sheesh. I could get used to this.”

  “I know, right?” Aimee agreed.

  Dane smiled as Aimee handed Torie a mug of steaming hot coffee and then sat down next to her.

  “To what do we owe this pleasure?” Torie took a sip of coffee. In his peripheral vision, Dane caught Torie giving Aimee an eyebrow waggle that was anwered with a knee bump from Aimee.

  “Ow! You made me spill my coffee.”

  Dane hid his chuckle over the pan on the stove, now crackling with Torie’s eggs.

  “I made you do no such thing.”

  “Whatever.” Torie rolled her eyes at Aimee and wiped coffee off her hand with a napkin.

  “My car was vandalized at the wedding reception I was working. I tried to call you, but you were busy so I called Dane. He came and helped me out. Gave me a ride home. And by God’s great mercy, cooked me dinner.”

  Aimee beamed his direction. He gave her his best grin before burning his hand on the hot stove. Damn! He was distracted around her. Which both terrified and excited him at the same time. He ran his hand under cold water and went back to preparing Torie’s meal.

  “Ooh, careful.” Torie winced.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” Aimee continued. “The car, I mean. I’m sorry, Dane. Let me get some aloe for your hand.”

  She floated out of the room, a flurry of strawberry-scented hair and flowered skirt.

  “What do you think?” Torie stared down Dane, her cop voice now in full force.

  He plated her omelet. “I think I have a bad feeling about it.”

  “And let me guess, Aimee thinks it’s simply a random act of violence.”

  He nodded and placed the plate before her, handing her a fork.

  Aimee returned. She sidled up next to him, assaulting his senses with all things Aimee. He almost fell over when she placed his large hand in her own, her skin soft against his calloused fingers.

  Without a word she squeezed aloe from a tube and began rubbing his hand where he’d burned it. It was definitely getting too hot in here.

  Torie grinned behind her coffee mug, way too entertained by what was happening.

  Aimee blew on his hand and Dane’s heart almost jumped out of his chest. She would be the death of him for sure. He needed a cold shower and he needed it yesterday.

  “There. That should help.” She put the cap on the tube and floated out of the room again.

  Torie laughed into her coffee mug.

  “Not a word.” Dane gave her his best glare.

  “Wasn’t gonna say anything.” Torie grabbed her fork and dove into her omelet, a woman on a mission. Her huge grin his direction as she chewed spoke volumes, however.

  Aimee came back and claimed her perch at the counter once more. “Anyway, I don’t think it’s a big deal.” Dane loved how she had a knack for continuing a conversation as if she’d never left the room. “Well, it is a big deal. My poor Dottie is mutilated and now in the shop, but it was probably some idiot out to be destructive.”

  “Did you know she named her car?” Dane asked Torie.

  She nodded, her mouth full of food. With a smile toward Aimee, she shrugged as if to say, “What can you do? She is who she is.”

  She certainly was.

  Dane finished cleaning up the kitchen again while Torie ate and Aimee sipped her tea. She chatted freely about the wedding that day, how happy the bride and groom were and the gorgeous flowers. Dane’s spine stiffened as she talked. The whimsical tone in her voice told him she wanted that someday. The big wedding, the white picket fence, and happily ever after. Too bad he wasn’t the man who could give it to her.

  Like cold water splashed on his face, his heart closed once again to any kind of relationship. He wasn’t the man for her, whether he wanted to be or not. He simply couldn’t be. What was best for both of them was for him to leave without turning back. Let Torie handle protecting Aimee.

  He was about to do just that when Torie pushed her empty plate away and said, “So, as I said, I need to talk to both of you.”

  The hair on the back of Dane’s neck stood at attention.

  Torie softened her tone and looked at Aimee. “It seems a body was found today. They’ve identified the man as an associate of Damien Marcos.”

  The color drained from Aimee’s face. Dane stepped to her side and pulled her to him with his arm around her shoulders. Her head rested against his chest. “Was it the man I saw the other night?” Aimee asked, her voice stronger than Dane anticipated. She wrapped her arm around his waist, her other hand on his chest near her cheek.

  “We aren’t sure. But I think so, based on your description and his wounds.”

  Dane and Torie exchanged a look over Aimee’s head. The vision of Aimee’s car that evening mixed with this news wasn’t a good combination.

  Aimee pulled her head away, but he left his arm around her, his hand gently cupping her shoulder. “There’s nothing to worry about then, right, Torie?”

  Torie put her hand on Aimee’s knee. “We’ll see, Sweetie. Until then you need to be extra careful. Use my truck for now until Dottie is fixed. I can use a squad car.”

  Dane knew Torie was sugarcoating things for Aimee’s sake and he was grateful. Having a friend like Torie was exactly what Aimee needed right now. Someone who would be honest with her and keep her on a need-to-know basis. As impulsive as Aimee was, who knows how she’d respond? Would she be careless and let her emotions make decisions for her? He didn’t want that in his life again.

  He dropped his arm from Aimee’s shoulder, needing distance. Comparing Aimee to Beth, to his past, wasn’t fair. As much of a whirlwind as Aimee was, she was nothing like Beth. And he was drawn to her like a bee to honey. Unfortunately, Aimee would get stung if he got too close.

  “So what do I do now?” Aimee asked Torie, but she looked up at Dane. He smiled down at her. Man, he was an idiot. She wanted reassurance from him. Something he wasn’t sure he could give.

  “Go about your life like always,” Torie answered. “I’ll keep close like I have been and Dane can, too, if that makes you feel better.”

  They both looked at Dane; an army of thousands would be less intimidating to him. Aimee’s green depths now bored into his. How could he walk away from her when she needed him now more than ever? He took a deep breath and put his arm back around her, if anything, to hold himself still. Running would be tough with her anchoring him. The image filled him with a sense of peace he’d never felt before.

  He could do this. He could help her. For now. But when Marcos was caught, they would go their separate ways.

  Aimee sighed and leaned into him again.

  Right. And I’m gonna win the lottery tomorrow too.

  Man, he was in trouble. Deep, deep, berry-scented trouble.

  ***

  Aimee walked Dane to his truck. She sensed a shift in him and wasn’t sure if it was caused by telling her a bit about his past or the news about the body that was found. Either way, he was tense. Distracted.

  “Hey. You okay?”

  He turned and pulled her into his arms before she
could protest. Not that she would, but the movement surprised her. Arms wrapped around his waist, her cheek against his heartbeat, the world was right. The leaves in the tree above them rustled in the breeze. Crickets chirped. The night was cool and pleasant. If only she could stay here forever. If only…

  She pulled back to look up at him. “What are you thinking?”

  His eyes haunted her. So much happening within them, it made her dizzy.

  “I don’t think you wanna know.”

  She wasn’t too sure she did either.

  “I understand if you don’t want to help babysit me. I’m not afraid, Dane.” If she told herself that enough, she might believe it.

  He searched her eyes for the truth. “It’s not babysitting you, Aimee. We’re friends and I want to help.”

  “Friends, huh?”

  He smiled. “Yes, friends.”

  Tenderly he kissed her forehead, pausing a moment where his breath blew against her hair.

  She soaked in one last moment before he got in his truck and drove away.

  Going back into the house, she did what she’d wanted to do for hours—strip down and get in bed.

  Her sheets were cool and inviting. Exhaustion long gone and overpowered by emotions, she stared at the ceiling and replayed the night in her head.

  Thinking about her car only made her upset, so she focused on Dane. Not that the thought of Dane calmed her heart rate. Really, why fight it?

  He had to have feelings for her. No one kissed like that if they didn’t, right? Unless he was one heck of an actor. But she scared him. Huh. What else was new? Most men she got close to turned tail and ran way before this point in the relationship.

  Words like flighty and frivolous hovered in her mind. Swiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she bit back tears. Guys like Dane were serious. Methodical. He made plans and then executed them. He made goals. Heck, his shirt was ironed perfectly, while she still had stains from lunch on her blouse.

  Aimee liked to fly by the seat of her pants. Wake up each day and see what life would bring. She’d also been accused of being lazy, because she never had to worry about money. But that wasn’t it. It was her DNA to be a free spirit. Although she wasn’t crazy about that label either. People viewed it as spoiled. She blinked and let the tears fall. Why not? Holding them in wasn’t going to make her feel any better.