Killjoy

She didn't try to dissuade him. She was too busy thinking about his earlier remark. What would happen if things went the way he planned?

Thirty miles down the road, they found a fishing tackle/grocery store. It was dark inside.

John Paul's skills seemed endless. He got the door unlocked without making a scratch, charmed the black Doberman guard

dog, and shopped to his heart's content. She helped him carry two gallons of milk and four grocery sacks to the car.

He calculated the expense as he sacked the items and left four twenty-dollar bills sticking out from under the cash register.

'How long are we going to be staying at Tyler's place?' she asked when they were once again on their way. 'We've got enough food for a month.'

'We'll stay at least one night, maybe two,' he answered. 'Tyler told me there's a little town about fifteen miles from the cabin.

I've got Theo checking on a couple of things, and when I find out what is going on, we'll decide what to do.'

'I'm not going to miss that trial.'

'I understand. May I ask you something?'

'Yes?'

'Is Skarrett the reason you can't have children?'

'Yes,' she said. 'A bullet hit just right, but you know what? I would never have had children anyway. I wouldn't take the risk

that what's wrong with Jilly is genetic. So, you see, it doesn't matter.'

'Yeah, it does,' he argued. 'Skarrett took that choice away from you. That's what matters.'

He couldn't keep the anger out of his voice, but she didn't become upset. What he'd said was true.

She changed the subject to a less stressful one, talking about silly things that had happened to her when she was growing up.

He told her stories about his life and his family, and when he talked about his father, she laughed several times.

'People really call him Big Daddy?'

'Yeah, they do. You'll like him,' he predicted.

He was assuming she would meet his father someday. She'd like that. She wanted to know about his family and his home and

his work. She wanted to know everything about him. Before she could continue the conversation, they saw two pairs of headlights coming up the road toward them.

He swerved onto a side road and turned his lights off.

They silently waited until the cars passed by.

'When you asked your brother-in-law to help, were you worried he might tell the FBI where we're going?'

'Because he's with Justice?'

'Yes.'

'Family comes first, sugar. Always.'

'Still…'

'He won't tell, and he will help. I told him what I needed done, and he agreed.'

'Good. I'm glad we can trust him.'

They waited in the dark for a few minutes before he felt it was safe for them to go.

Avery's mind wandered and then circled around and around what he'd whispered in her ear. Maybe if she stopped staring at

him, she could think about something else. It had been such a long time since she'd been intimate with a man, and she thought

she had become an expert at blocking those thoughts and urges.

She had been an expert anyway, until he came into her life. Now the floodgates were wide open, and all she could think about was touching him. Everywhere.

For thirty more minutes she battled to think about something other than sex. She mentally balanced her checkbook, then

calculated how long she could stay in her apartment without a paycheck coming in. Three months or four? If she got fired.

She started tapping her foot on the floor. Who was she kidding? Of course she was going to get fired. They couldn't arrest her

for being insubordinate, but would Carter charge her with hindering an investigation?

John Paul put his hand on her knee. 'How come you're so jittery?' Then, before she could come up with a good lie, he said,

'There it is.'

He pulled onto a dirt road. His night vision was better than hers. She hadn't even noticed the little curve. 'You're sure?'

His hand was still on her leg, and she wasn't inclined to move it. She stared straight ahead, pretending to watch the road as she thought about ripping his clothes off him.

Was she turning into a slut? She shook her head. No, she was simply having normal urges, like any other woman, but because

she hadn't had those urges in so long, she wasn't handling herself well.

'What are you thinking about?' he asked.

Sex, damn it. I'm thinking about sex. 'Nothing much.'

'Yeah?'

Even his voice was sexy. Threading her fingers through her hair, she realized how tense she was, and how horribly unsure of herself.

They drove around a bank of trees, and then the road flattened into what she thought might be a field. It was impossible to tell in the dark. She began tapping her foot on the floorboard again. She was nervous about being alone with him in the secluded cabin.

He pulled up to the steps in front. When he turned the motor and the lights off, it was pitch black. She couldn't even see her hand in front of her face.

'You stay put until I get the key from under the porch step.'

She couldn't have moved if her life had depended on it. Her legs felt like rubber, and she thought she just might start hyperventilating. Fortunately, she had her wild thoughts under control by the time he'd unlocked the front door and turned the lights on inside the cabin. She got out and helped him carry in the bags.

The cabin was charming and smelled of pine and Lysol. A stone fireplace faced the front door and was flanked by two wicker chairs with red-and-yellow-checked overstuffed cushions. The hunter green sofa had seen better days, for the arms were

frayed, and the fabric was faded, but it looked very comfortable. To the right of the front door was a round pine table and four single ladder-back chairs.

Beyond the table was a narrow kitchen with a back door. She placed a bag of groceries on the counter, then walked through

the living room to the other side of the cabin. There were two doors along the short hallway. The one on the left opened into a bathroom. At the end of the hall she opened the other door and stepped inside. Soft light spilled into the spacious room. A double bed with an old iron headboard was covered with a multicolored quilt.

The longer she stared at the bed, the faster her heart beat. She could hear John Paul putting the groceries away, knew she should probably help, but couldn't seem to make herself move.

'It's just a bed, for Pete's sake. What's the big deal?'

Disgusted with herself for being so nervous, she grabbed her duffel bag and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

She hadn't bothered to pack a pretty nightgown or a robe. After she dried her hair and brushed her teeth, she