The Heat Is On

you bringing the funny or the sexy.” He rose lithely to his feet when Jacob’s eyes narrowed, and wisely moved to the door. “Ethan?”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t see a rhyme or reason to the order in which the eight of us are being targeted.”

Ethan shook his head. “Me, neither. Just be careful out there,” he warned. “And though I don’t believe she’s the target, I’ve advised Bella to do the same.”

At lunchtime, Jacob shoved the reports he’d been working on aside and left the building. He was halfway to Edible Bliss when he was called to check on a material witness for a case he was building involving the identity- theft ring.

Thanks to an uncooperative witness and an unhappy victim, by the time Jacob was back on the road again, it was nearly two.

Bella had probably eaten lunch without him long ago.

Still, he headed over there, needing to see her. It had nothing to do with his own emotions and feelings, he assured himself, and everything to do with what Ethan had said.

She needed to be careful.

Something bad had happened each day for three days running, and he just wanted to lay his eyes on her-and maybe his hands-and know she was okay.

Over the years he’d had hundreds of cases, and had met countless people he’d worried about in the scope of the job. But this wasn’t just the job. This was personal.

Almost too much so.

He parked his bike in the back lot next to the squad car assigned to the shop, nodding to the cop inside. It was Tom Kennedy, a rookie of less than a year. They spoke for a minute, and when Tom said he hadn’t had lunch yet, Jacob told him to take off and grab something, that he’d watch the place until he got back.

Jacob stepped up to the kitchen door, wanting to take a quick peek inside before he made a complete check around the perimeter of the building.

Bella was alone, bustling around in tune to the sound system, which she had blaring Radiohead. She wore a pair of tiny denim shorts, an oversize white men’s T-shirt knotted in the small of her back, a siren-red apron, and matching red high-tops on her feet. That made him smile. Hell, she made him smile.

Her wild hair was piled up on top of her head, a few wispy tendrils escaping, sticking to her damp temples. He knew just how that damp skin would taste, and he felt himself stir with arousal just looking at her.

Then he pictured her in that apron, and nothing else.

Christ, he needed help. If he had ever doubted the necessity of removing himself from the case, this moment made it irrefutable.

She hadn’t seen him yet. She was singing to herself as she cleaned the countertop, the motion making her hips rock back and forth.

And making him ache.

Christ, he was gone. Completely gone over her. He hoped she’d decide to come out and get some air, but clearly she was getting ready to close up. Leaning against the doorjamb, he stood there with a ridiculous grin on his face, just soaking her in. He figured he could probably stand there and watch her all damn day long and not get tired of it, but then she vanished into the front room of the shop, where he could no longer see or hear her.

And he had a job to do first before he went inside. He straightened up to get on with it just as the hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood up. He jerked around at the exact moment the shot rang out.

He jerked again at the impact, and fire burned through him.

He really hated getting shot.

He opened his mouth to yell a warning to Bella, since he knew she couldn’t hear a thing over her music, but nothing came out. His last thought at he hit the ground was that at least he wasn’t holding a bouquet of flowers.

11

BELLA MOVED TO THE front door of the shop, locked it, then looked over the freshly installed window. Remembering the reason for that had a shiver racking her as she flipped the Closed sign. She moved to the iPod dock in the closet and hit the power button, and in the sudden silence, another shiver, this one of dread, raced up her spine. She stepped out of the closet and looked around for the cause.

Everything looked normal.

Then Willow’s face appeared in the front door’s window, and Bella near fell back on her butt in surprise.

“Sorry,” Willow said when Bella had opened the door for her. “Forgot my key and my purse.” She frowned. “I don’t know where my head is.”

“I do. It’s on the shootings, and the fact that we had half our usual customers today.”

Willow sighed. “Yeah. That’s it.”

Her hair was spiked straight up and out today, like Cher in her seventies Oscar run. She was wearing retro derby gear complete with polyester shorts and a green-and-white rugby top. The only thing missing was a pair of skates and the pads. “You’re wearing your mom’s clothes again.”

“Yeah, I love her closet. I’m going to stay there again tonight. There’s an extra couch…”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

Hands on hips, Willow’s eyes narrowed as she studied Bella. “You’re eating your short-crust pastry.”

Bella looked down at the pastry in her hands and sighed. “Had so much left over today. And it’s good.”

“It’s great,” Willow corrected. “It’s soft and flaky and perfect. But according to you, it also goes right to your hips.”

“You forgot your purse and keys due to stress. I’m eating due to stress. We’re quite the pair.” Bella sighed again and tossed the pastry into the trash.

“Well, Jesus, if you were going to throw it away…” Willow looked wistfully at the trash can.

“Don’t you dare.” They moved into the kitchen, where Bella gave her a new one from the leftovers bin, and Willow happily bit into it.

Bella shook her head. “I hate that you can eat like this and stay as skinny as a rail.”

Willow grinned and took another pastry. “Good genes.” She cocked her head and her smile faded. “There’s something else wrong. Aw, honey. Is it Sexy Cop?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.” She shook it off. “It’s nothing. He was supposed to meet me for lunch and didn’t. No biggie.”

“He’s got an important job. He probably just got held up.”

“Yes. Maybe.” But maybe not. Maybe he’d decided their casual fun was over.

“He doesn’t seem like the sort of man to play with a woman’s feelings,” Willow said quietly. “And anyway, I’ve seen him look at you. He’d never play with you like that. Something came up. He’ll call.”

“Yeah.”

“You keep going down that path,” Willow said, grabbing her purse, “and you’re going to be insane by the end of the day. I’m going to the movies. Trevor’s driving. Come with us?”

“Not today, thanks.”

Willow gave her a fast hug. “You’re just afraid because you’re feeling more than you meant to, because you’re falling for him.”

Bella squeezed her eyes shut. “Maybe.”

“Don’t worry, Bell, I think he means to catch you.”

And then she was gone, out through the dining area and the front door, and with a sigh, Bella locked up. For the tenth time, she pulled out her cell phone.

No missed call.

Fine. He hadn’t called. That was fine.

You’re falling for him. Willow’s words echoed in her head. They were a scary truth. Her scary truth, because she was falling.