Her lips were dry. She swallowed the entire glass of iced tea, but it didn't help. "Nothing had happened since I moved in. You never gave me any updates. I assumed it was a misunderstanding."
He reached for his tea as she placed her glass down, and their hands touched. Instead of pulling back, he laced his fingers through hers. "As soon as I find out who it is that is threatening you, then we can go as slow as you like."
The hum in her veins begged for him. "John, if I'm going to stay here, then we're going to have to be honest."
His voice lowered. "What do you want to know?"
She tugged her fingers back. If they touched, she'd be all over him within minutes. "What is it about me now that was missing before?"
"Nothing. I was just young and foolish which made me blind."
The boom in her soul woke her up, though she listened to the ache in her chest. "So this isn't about sticking it to your father, even though he is dead?"
"No."
That one word held so much depth that she didn't know if he was sincere or if she over-read the strong negative reaction. She lowered her gaze. "He didn't like me."
"I am not him."
She straightened out a wrinkle in her jeans. "Have you let go of his shadow? Seems to me you made your life choices because of him."
On a hunch, she gazed at him. The light was gone, and in its place was a riot of emotions. "That's really deep, Alice. Let me sort that out."
Had she pushed too far? Overthinking never helped anything grow. Taking her own advice, she decided it was time for levity. Safe at the house meant no outside forces would get her. The only issue was how she was falling for John Morgan. She stood up and smiled. "Deal. Now what are we having for dinner? I'm getting hungry."
John rose after her and they walked into the kitchen together. She fell behind to memorize his strong broad shoulders and his squeezable butt. Last night, her hands had raked all over him. Tonight, she'd hold back. Last night she realized how much she loved him. Now she was tied to him, but he couldn't know how deeply.
Chapter Twenty Five
With a flutter in her belly, Alice sautéed the vegetables as John finished with the chicken in the frying pan. The flutter had everything to do with the man next to her. He added a few spices to his dish. She decided to test John's fortitude and reached for the pepper, adding it to the vegetables. Her brother and father said that real men handled spices. Pepper wasn't much, but she was curious.
After their conversation on the couch, she'd decided that everything would be all right if they did end up dating. John walked away from the meat and set the table. She found a bowl and added her vegetables. Then she opened the refrigerator and grabbed the bag with the rolls. Together.
The accent wall that separated the kitchen and dining room was yellow. If she lived here full-time, she'd suggest something brighter. In Miami, bland was not part of the decor. Alice smiled as they passed each other—their partnership had the table set in no time. Her father never helped her mother in the kitchen, but then he was in the fields until Ellie called him.
John's brow shot up. With a wink, she continued to smile. He grabbed the rest of their dinner and called behind her, "What has made you so happy?"
First she put the food on the table, and then placed her hand on her hip. "You."
He took a step backwards. "Me?"
Light-hearted, she felt as if she were floating as she rearranged the dishes and then sat down. "Yeah."
"I thought you wanted to be free of me."
As he sat, she scooted her chair closer so their knees brushed. "No. I said I wanted to go slow. There is a huge difference."
The color of his eyes darkened. "Explain how you see us then."
Fireworks exploded inside her. "You want an us?"
As his hand fell onto her thigh, her body melted. "Yes," he answered.
Every cell in her body woke up. She needed a kiss. "I wanted to hear that, I guess."
As her eyes closed, her heartbeat grew loud in her ears. She opened her lips, and then his met hers. The embers of last night burned hot inside her, and she ached for more.
Her hands wrapped around his back, feeling the muscles underneath his clothes.
An alarm rang loudly in the air. John jumped out of his seat and her body felt shaken from his sudden departure. "Go to your room and lock the door."
Her eyes scanned the area as her heart thrashed in her ears. Her voice was fast and shaky. "You said this house was safe."
John walked out of the dining room and assessed the front door. She ran behind him. "The police will be here and Morgan security is on the way," he said. "I need my gun."
Of course he had one. The FBI didn't let agents not carry. Then, as if he was walking toward a battlefield, he turned and headed toward the living area. Nothing seemed out of place, except for the blare of the alarm.
Her limbs trembled as she followed him down the hall. John pointed to her room. "Go inside. Lock the door."
She looked behind her, but no one was there. Her hands were clammy and she tried to stop shaking to tell him, "No. I'm staying right beside you."
He kept his pace toward his room. "You're impossible to protect."
Her chin trembled, and every step they took echoed in her head. "Likewise. John, if this guy wants to hurt me to get to you, then he'll target you. I can't let that happen."
Glass shattered behind them. John pushed Alice in front of him and then turned around in the hall. "Get to my bedroom so we can get my gun."
A whimper escaped her mouth, but she turned around and went for his room. He needed his weapon. Alice swung open the door, and John rushed them both inside and then headed right for the dresser drawer. The second he stepped away from her a coldness entered her. He grabbed a key from his pocket and unlocked a drawer.
More glass shattered. Alice said in a low voice, "They have to be inside now. Hurry."
The clip of the gun made a snapping noise as he put everything together. John rushed back into the hall. With tight shoulders, she followed behind him. She grabbed his hip so she'd at least touch him. "If you won't lock the door and stay here, then stay behind my shoulder."
With her elbows pressed to her sides, she ducked back. "What are you going to do?"
"If someone is in my house, here to hurt you, then he's a dead man."
The image of how John held her to protect her from the bullet, and how safe she felt in his arms, replayed in her mind. She swallowed.
Nothing stirred from the living room.
Sirens echoed in the air as the police arrived. Her stomach had rocks in it still, but she managed to breathe. A moment later, the house was flooded with lights. She rubbed her arms as John walked them toward the front door. The tingling in her chest stirred, but then he let in security to check every dark corner.
Her thoughts were scrambled. She crossed her hands until she saw Officer Rafe Soliz and John together, near the front door. Rafe said, "You two didn't let me finish my dinner."
A nervous laugh escaped her lips, but then she swallowed. "We're sorry, Rafe."