Jack escorted Lacey from the coffee shop in silence. They’d decided to skip the coffee, and he had a feeling coffee was something she didn’t pass up.
She’d been married. To that ass. Wow.
He shook his head to get rid of the tightening of jealousy that’d seized his throat. Where did that come from? It wasn’t like they were dating or something.
Or something.
His gut wanted to start something. Under that bulky coat, she had a body that was burned into his brain. Petite, but curvy in all the right places. She’d had scrubs on at the ME’s office yesterday, and he’d had a rough time keeping his eyes off her well-sculpted arms. She’d been an athlete and still kept things hot and tight.
His mind spun as he silently walked her to her car. It was dark in the city and only every other streetlight was on, creating areas of deep shadows next to the wide spots of gold light. They’d left behind the bustle of the art crowd and moved into a quieter section of town. He kept his hands to himself. Lacey’s stiff posture was sending out loud and uncomfortable vibes that screamed not to touch her.
He was clueless as to what was in her head. When they’d left the shop she’d seemed proud that she’d stood up to her ex, but then she’d become silent, and now anger simmered around her. Jack hadn’t ventured a word. Let alone a question. What was their story? It couldn’t be a good one. Obviously, the marriage had split on very bad terms.
Lacey stopped by a big SUV and dug in her purse for keys. Jack eyed the black vehicle, wondering if she could see over the steering wheel.
“That’s a big truck.”
She whirled on him. “Are you going to jump on me about carbon footprints? ’Cause I get enough of that from my friends. I have to get up the hills to my house when it snows. And I ski a lot.” Her eyes claimed she was ready to do battle.
He backed off, holding his hands up in defense. “Whoa. Slow down. Actually, I’ve got one just like it. Well, a few years older than yours.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just that...” She waved her hands in a circle and gestured toward the way they’d come. “I’m sorry you saw him make an ass of himself.”
“It seems to come very naturally to him.”
A small smile crossed her lips and his breath caught. It’d completely transformed her face. He mentally cast around for something else witty to say, wanting to see her smile again. In silent frustration, he stepped in front of her and leaned casually against the SUV’s door, feeling anything but casual. His skin was on full alert. Every sensitive cell tuned into the woman in front of him. He felt like he’d had a couple of shots of espresso and couldn’t come down from the buzz. He couldn’t let her go.
“How long were you married?”
“Two years.” Her smile faded.
“How long ago?”
She counted on her fingers. “It’s been over for about seven years.”
“Jesus. And he’s still bitter? After all this time?” Who holds a grudge that long? Of course, Jack didn’t know why they’d split, but he’d bet it was the dickwad’s fault.
She shrugged and tugged deliberately on the door handle, which wouldn’t open because of his weight against the door. She wouldn’t look in his eyes, not ready to tell him the story. But he couldn’t let her leave when she looked upset. He didn’t move.
“I hope you managed to run him through the wringer before you split.”
She gazed at him with a wry grin on her lips. “I’d say I was squeezed as much as he was, but I might have stomped on his ego a few times.”
“Ouch.” Jack slapped a hand over his heart with a grimace and silently celebrated her grin. “Some women seem to have a real knack for that.”
Lacey looked at him sharply. “Been stomped on a few times have you?”
“What poor soul hasn’t?”
“Poor soul isn’t the phrase that comes to mind when I think of you.”
He gave her a grin and leaned close to whisper. The steam from his breath touched her cheek. “What does come to mind when you think of me?”
“Stubbornness.” She yanked at the handle again.
“I knew you’d been thinking about me.”
She laughed, but guilt briefly flashed across her face.
She had been thinking of him.
He stepped away from the truck, opening the door and offering her a hand up to the seat. When he didn’t let go, she tugged her hand back with a questioning look. He leaned closer, holding her amused gaze.
“Can we do this again?”
“Do what? Freeze? Or fight with my ex?” Lacey’s tone was light, but her dark eyes were serious.
Her mouth caught his attention. Her lips were parted slightly and the tip of her tongue moistened her lower lip. His body hardened at the sight. Her breath caught as her eyes registered his reaction.
“Lacey...”
He couldn’t finish. She’d understood exactly what he’d asked her. He watched a struggle cross her face and his heart tripped a beat.
“OK.” She whispered the single word.
He’d won out over her common sense.
He placed a foot on the running board, cupped her face in his hands, and covered her lips with his. His fingers sank into the blonde hair he’d been aching to touch as he kissed her hard and long on the mouth. After her initial surprise, he felt her soften and lean into the kiss, opening to him. Blood roared in his head. Her mouth was soft and warm, and she gave a small moan in the back of her throat. He felt her hand move to his shoulder, and he wished away his heavy jacket. He wanted to feel the heat of her hand. He wanted to feel her hand slide along his skin and...
She pulled back, her hand still on his coat.
“This isn’t a good idea,” she whispered.
He held still, fighting the flood of arousal through his limbs. “If I’m going to make a mistake, I like to make it a big one.”
Her eyes widened.
He hit the lock button on her door, stepped back, and pushed the truck door shut. She stared at him through the window, her fingertips touching her lips. Her stunned look faded, and he saw the edges of a smile behind her hand.
“Go.” He made a shooing gesture. “Go home.”
Lacey started her engine and shifted into drive. She looked at him again, lifted one side of her mouth, and winked at him, laughter in her eyes. Just like he’d winked the first moment he’d seen her. She’d remembered. His heart double-thumped, and she stepped on the gas.
He stood in the street and watched until her taillights disappeared.
With a fresh mug of coffee in her hand, Lacey glared out her front window the following morning. Her newspaper lay on the sidewalk. A good forty feet from her porch. During the night, freezing rain had covered the old snow with a dangerous layer of ice. To get her paper, she’d have to dash out in her robe, try not to slip on the ice, and risk breaking her butt. She loved the Sudoku puzzles. Her day couldn’t start until she’d mastered the damn things.
She set down her coffee, tightened the tie on her robe, and slipped her feet into boots, Then caught her reflection in the hall mirror. Christ. Hair a disaster, ratty green robe and ladybug boots. If Mr. Carson across the street spotted her, she’d never hear the end of it. The crotchety man didn’t believe she was a dentist. He’d told his wife Lacey was a dental receptionist.
She looked a little closer in the mirror, trying to finger-comb her hair. Her lips looked swollen. Running a finger across them, she decided they were definitely sensitive, even though it’d been only one kiss. One very hot, electrifying kiss last night that’d kept her awake until three in the morning.
Why’d she agree to see Jack again? Michael’s warnings echoed through her head. Mentally she agreed with Michael. Nothing good could come out of seeing Jack Harper. She had enough problems with her own memories of the past. She didn’t need his perspective too.
She wasn’t thinking with her brain. She was thinking with a part of herself that hadn’t had a real date in over a year, a part that craved a man’s rough touch and ached for a strong shoulder to support her. A part that craved a man to hold her tight in bed and make her feel like he couldn’t live without her.
Lacey bit her lip and admitted the thought she’d been avoiding. She was lonely. Filling her time with work and teaching tumbling at the gym. Avoiding men like a piece of gum on a hot sidewalk.
Why him? Why now?
Something about this man had slipped under her defenses. She’d briefly dropped her guard and he’d snuck in, breaking out emotions and memories she’d locked firmly away. And physical needs.
Surprise from last night still lingered about her. As Jack had kissed her, she’d heard that click that occurs when the right people come together. It was plainly audible. And she knew Jack had heard it too.
Lifting her chin, she reached for the doorknob but paused, eyeing the mass of hair in the mirror again. Grabbing a clip out of her pocket, she pulled back her hair, twisted it, and clamped it securely.
Now, who cares what Mr. Carson thinks?
Shivering, she cautiously crossed the porch and nearly broke her butt as she slipped on the first icy stair. Her teeth snapped together as a sharp jolt shot up her spine and out of her limbs.
OK. No paper today.
She inched her way back to the door and spotted a small package propped beside the doorframe. “DR. LACEY CAMPBELL,” was handwritten in capital letters.
What the hell?
No address, no postmark. Someone must have dropped it by yesterday. Squeezing it, she felt the outline of a disc. She frowned. Had someone at work told her he had a DVD for her?
Ripping the package open, she relaxed as she entered the warmth of her home and inhaled the scent of strong coffee. A silver video disc popped out into her hands. No label. Curious, she picked up her coffee and headed for the TV in the family room.
She popped the disc in the player, grabbed the cat circling her feet, and sat on the sofa, scratching Eve under her chin. The TV screen was showing nothing but grayish snow. Crap. Was it blank?
The screen abruptly cleared, revealing an image of a concrete-block walled room. The camera shakily panned, displaying a crowded mess. Dented cardboard boxes stacked in corners leaned in short towers. Old wooden chairs, broken pieces of tables, and a roll of stained carpet filled the tight space. The images were grainy, as if the tape was old or had been copied over several times. The camera moved to a small iron twin bed, and Lacey felt her chest contract as the camera focused on the blonde woman tied to the headboard.
Suzanne.
Eve squawked, and Lacey let go of the cat she’d suddenly choked. Eve leaped off her lap and shot out of the room, her claws skittering, searching for traction on the wood floor.
Lacey held her breath.
Suzanne’s face came into focus. Her eyes were half-closed, but she shot a brief arrow of hatred directly at the camera before her expression grew blank. She didn’t wrestle with her bonds, the fight seemed purged from her system. Her hair was unkempt and long. Longer than Lacey had ever seen it. And it was straggly, even greasy. Suzanne’s head turned to the camera again, making eye contact with Lacey, then looking away, her chin dropping. The camera rudely traced down her body, which was clothed in a tattered T-shirt and sweatpants.
Oh, my God.
Lacey stared harder, focusing on the bulge under Suzanne’s T-shirt as her own hands searched blindly beside her for the remote on the sofa cushions. Her eyes never left the screen. If she looked away, the image might vanish. She had to pause the DVD! Where the fuck was the remote?
Dear Lord. Suzanne was pregnant.
There was no mistaking the distinct protruding belly. As Lacey watched, she saw a ripple of movement under the T-shirt. Her hands froze in their search. The baby was moving.
What happened to the baby? Where was Suzanne’s baby?
Not a baby. A child now. Possibly nine or ten years old.
The image vanished, returning to dirty snow. “No-o-o!” Lacey screamed.
Tearing her gaze from the screen, she spotted the remote on the side table and grabbed it. As she turned back to the TV, ready to hit rewind, new images cut across the screen. Darker and sharper this time. This scene was shot outdoors, a city at night.
Standing, she pointed the remote at the screen, her finger hovering over the rewind button as she squinted at the dark images of parked cars and trucks. The camera scanned from vehicle to vehicle. She caught sight of a Ford Mustang. A new one. A current body style. Her breath caught. This part of the disc had been shot recently.
For a desperate second she believed Suzanne could be alive and pregnant somewhere.
No. Lacey felt her chest deflate. Suzanne’s body had been found dumped under an apartment. Lacey had held her bones. Tears burned in her eyes.
Lacey sucked in a shuddering breath and stared at the screen, trying to get the sudden vision of Suzanne’s lonely skull out of her mind.
Then she saw him, and Lacey collapsed back on the sofa. Jack Harper. He was leaning into her truck as he gave her a long kiss and then slammed her door shut. Lacey stared at her own stunned face through the truck window. The camera jerked, and she heard the shooter curse explicitly under his breath.
Lacey gagged, stumbled off the bed, and dashed into the bathroom, heaving over the toilet. Sweat beaded across her face, and dark clouds threatened her vision.
That kiss wasn’t ten hours old.