Ivy leaned back in her chair, flustered. He was the only man who could do this to her. “You’re going to have to buy me a big ice cream cone for dessert if you want to see my hormones. You know that, right?”
“I’ll buy you an ice cream truck if that’s the case,” Jack said. “For now, though, you’re going to have to focus on your dinner and keep your hands to yourself.”
Ivy slitted her eyes and lowered her voice. “I’m going to make you pay after dinner.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“WELL, that was a new experience,” Jack said, his fingers linked with Ivy’s as they strolled down the sidewalk two hours later. Night was upon them – a happy and flirtatious dinner in their rearview mirror – and yet Jack felt no inclination to end their date anytime soon. He was comfortable in Ivy’s presence … even when the mere touch of her skin sent his heart fluttering.
“You didn’t have to get the eggplant just because I did,” Ivy said, smiling at the memory of Jack’s face as he sampled his entrée. “You put on a good act for what it’s worth. I could tell right away you didn’t like it and yet you ate every bit.”
“I didn’t dislike it,” Jack clarified. “It was just … different.”
“Different good, or different bad?”
“I like things that are different,” Jack said, affectionately tugging on a strand of Ivy’s two-toned hair. “That should be obvious. If you want to know the truth, though, I probably wouldn’t order eggplant again.”
“I guess I’ll take that off the menu options next time I cook for you.”
“I didn’t know you were planning on cooking for me,” Jack said. “In that case, you can make whatever you want. You can be assured I will eat it and love it.”
“I think you’re just saying that because you know I’m not going to keep my hands to myself now that dinner is over,” Ivy teased. She was feeling playful.
“I’m saying that because whatever you make tends to be delicious just because you made it,” Jack replied, guileless. “Although, if you wanted to make steak and potatoes I can guarantee I’ll like that.”
Ivy snorted. “You’re a meat and potatoes guy, aren’t you?”
“I like to think I’m more than one thing,” Jack said, pulling Ivy closer. “I do like a good steak, though.” He lowered his lips to Ivy’s again, taking his time and offering her a sweet kiss that was full of promise. His eyes were heavy-lidded and thoughtful when he finally pulled away. “Where is this ice cream place?”
“Huh?” Ivy was still lost in the kiss.
Jack snickered. “You’ve got a moony look on your face. I like it. I … .”
The sound of loud bangs filled the night, cutting him off. One … two … three shots rang out. Jack knew them for what they were without blinking an eye. He shoved Ivy in front of him, pressing her against the nearby building and instinctively sheltering her with his body.
It took Jack a moment to clear his head, memories of his own near-fatal shooting flooding his mind. After that things snapped into place quickly. The shots weren’t being fired at the couple. In fact, they weren’t even originating from their street. They were around the corner.
Jack took a tentative step back, allowing Ivy to face him, her features drawn and ashen.
“What … ?”
“Stay here, Ivy,” Jack ordered, moving away from her.
“Was that gunshots?” Ivy was obviously confused.
“I have to go and check on that,” Jack said. “I … stay here, Ivy. I’ll be back for you. I promise.”
With those words he disappeared around the corner, leaving Ivy alone with nothing but her fear to keep her company.
Two
Ivy pressed her fingertips against the cold brick exterior of Bellaire’s pizza parlor, silently counting the seconds since Jack left.
One. It probably wasn’t gunshots.
Two. Jack only assumed it was gunshots because of his past … and nightmares.
Three. It was much more likely that kids were playing with firecrackers than for someone to be shooting a gun in downtown Bellaire.
Four. Someone could be dead.
Five. Jack might be in trouble.
Ivy started moving without realizing what she was doing, quickening her pace as she rounded the corner. It took her a moment to focus, the limited light being thrown off by the nearby streetlights causing her to narrow her eyes to make out the scene. Jack was on his knees in the middle of the street, his back to her as he studied something on the ground in front of him. An invisible icy hand squeezed Ivy’s heart as she broke into a run.
“Jack!”
Jack swiveled quickly, surprised by her appearance. “Ivy, go back!”
Ivy shook her head, not stopping until she was next to Jack and could see why he was in the middle of the street. A young man was down on the ground, his eyes sightless as they faced the sky. He was wearing one of Bellaire’s telltale police uniforms, the shirt darkening with blood from a chest wound. He was dead. Ivy was sure of that. Jack still applied pressure to the wound with one hand as he used the other to cradle the phone next to his ear and bark out orders.
“We need an ambulance here now,” Jack bellowed. “Officer down!”
Ivy pushed Jack’s hand away and replaced it with her own so he could relay the information to the 911 operator without distraction. She pushed down on the wound, knowing it was doing absolutely no good, and waited for Jack to get off the phone. After a few more tense orders Jack disconnected and leaned in closer.
“How is he?”
“He’s gone,” Ivy said quietly.
“He’s just unconscious,” Jack said, his voice cracking. “I … .”
“It’s okay, Jack,” Ivy said, trying to sooth him as she kept her hands on the police officer’s chest. “I’ve got him. I
