Like that.
There was a smear of dirt on her cheek where she’d fallen, and her curls looked like coiled springs that were about to explode, but she was gorgeous. Her dark gaze locked with his, her eyes hazy with desire and regret, and he figured he looked about the same. He wanted her, damn it, but there were good reasons for both of them to keep their distance, starting with Josh.
Then she sighed softly, and he thought to hell with Josh. All their lives, Joe had been the responsible, reliable, honorable twin, while Josh had done what he wanted, taken what he wanted and run when he wanted. Joe had always thought too much, and Josh hadn’t thought at all.
At this moment, Joe didn’t want to think. He wanted to feel. To do.
Liz’s breathing was shallow, ragged, then he realized that it was his own echoing in his ears. She was hardly breathing at all, waiting, watching him, wanting…
Wanting him for who he was, or because he looked exactly like his brother?
Later, that would matter. All the reasons this was a bad idea would matter. But not right now.
He raised both hands to her face, cupping his palms to her cheeks, lowering his head until his mouth brushed hers. She responded with a breath, another soft sigh, and knotted her fingers in the waistband of his jeans. She was so slender, so delicate, and yet she’d probably saved his life tonight by yanking him through the River’s Edge gate.
He brushed her mouth again, rewarded with another whisper of sound from her, then drew back to stare at her. “It’ll take more than a mention of Josh to stop me this time.”
She stared back as she moved closer, taking the two steps needed to bring their bodies together. His hands moved of their own accord, sliding around to her back, holding her exactly where he wanted her to be.
Rising onto her toes, she murmured into his ear, “That mention of Josh wasn’t to stop you. It was to stop
Remember Josh, she’d said in a panic-tinged whisper. He liked thinking he could have made her forget.
He didn’t tease her, play or rush. He just kissed her, all mouths and tongues and tastes and heat and need and hunger and two years’ worth of wanting. His heart was pounding, his lungs burning, and all he could think was she was worth the wait.
She was clinging to him when he stopped, or maybe he was clinging to her. He didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to step back and start thinking. He just wanted to kiss her again and see where it would lead. To bed, for sure. To trouble, absolutely. To disaster-long-time unhappy, hurts to be with her or without her-pretty damn likely.
He touched her hair, stretching out one thick curl, soft and shiny as it reshaped around his fingers. He toyed with it a moment, sighed heavily and rested his forehead against hers. “I’d better go.”
Her grip on him tightened, then slowly released. She didn’t take a step away, though. She left that to him, and it was damn hard.
“If you want an ice pack for your back…” He’d send Natalia over with it. Once he walked out that door, he couldn’t come back, not tonight.
“Thanks, but I’ve got a half-frozen bottle of water if I need it.” Her smile was awkward and not very convincing. “There’s a cold spot in the refrigerator where stuff freezes.”
“You can’t put a water bottle on-” He shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll see you.”
She let him get to the door before speaking. “Why didn’t you tell Detective Maricci what happened tonight?”
With half the room between them, it was safe to face her again. “I didn’t see the driver. I can’t give a description of the truck that’s worth anything. I didn’t get the tag number. Did you?”
She shook her head.
“If I’d told him, he couldn’t have found the guy, but he still would have wanted to know why I was someone’s target. It just seemed pointless.” He opened the door, then looked at her again. “Why didn’t you tell him?”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t my story to tell.”
He acknowledged that with a nod. “If you need anything…”
Her smile was unexpected and bright and made him regret that half the room separated them. “I’ll call you. And if you need anything…”
After studying her a moment, he reluctantly grinned. “Yeah. Same thing.”
Not that he would be calling anyone, he thought as he grabbed his shoes and the slickers, then dashed across the yard to his house. But if he did, she would be the one.
Because she was the only thing he might need.
Chapter 7
When Liz was home in Dallas, Saturdays were usually reserved for sleeping in late, then running errands that she couldn’t fit into her lunch hour or after work on week nights. This morning, she’d done the sleeping in, a hard, dreamless sleep, broken only by faint pain when she’d rolled over. Now she lay on her side, staring out the window at a blue sky with fat clouds. She didn’t want to get up, didn’t want to think, just wanted to lie there and remember.
The touch of Joe’s fingers on her back.
The taste of him on her tongue.
The sound of his breathing, ragged in her ear.
The need to kiss him again.
And to never kiss him again.
Her cell phone beeped, and she picked it up from the floor, then shut off the alarm. The marshal Mika was sending from Atlanta would be at the coffee shop by eleven, and she wanted to get there first. Liz shoved back the covers, then planted her feet on the floor. Her back was sore, and she was stiff from such a long, solid sleep, but she gritted her teeth and pushed to her feet.
“You’re getting too old for this, Lizzie,” she muttered, using her mother’s nickname for her and echoing Emilia’s sentiments. “Women your age should be married and having babies, not chasing around bad guys.”
I’ve got time, she always answered Emilia.
Maybe you do, but I don’t, her mother always retorted. I want grandbabies while I’m still able to play with them. As if she weren’t in such good shape that she could outlast her husband and all her kids at everything.
Liz did want children. She’d always imagined herself, well-invested in her career, in a supervisory position that would allow her a more regular work schedule and going home to her husband and at least two kids most nights. The husband had always been faceless, but the kids hadn’t: one dark-haired, dark-eyed devilish little boy and the other a dark-haired, dark-eyed princess, though without her mother’s curls, thank you very much.
But as she stepped into the shower under the rush of hot water and closed her eyes, the kids in the picture that formed were between dark and fair, and their eyes were blue blue blue. Like Joe’s.
Damn.
By the time the hot water ran out, her body was more relaxed, even if her emotions were still tied in knots. She dressed in capris and a sleeveless top with sandals, added makeup, earrings and perfume, slung her purse over her shoulder and headed out the door.
Natalia sat on the steps of her house, watching the dogs at play. Bear glanced Liz’s way, but Elizabeth was too intent on stalking a butterfly to pay her any attention, and he was reluctant to leave the other dog’s side.
“Good morning,” Liz called.
“Morning.” Natalia drew her knees a little closer and wrapped her arms around them. “How do you feel?”
The question surprised Liz. When she’d called Mika the night before to report the incident, Mika hadn’t asked
For an instant, Natalia looked tempted, then she shook her head. “I hate to keep the puppies locked up too long.”
Liz looked at the dogs, who had given up on the butterfly and stretched out in a patch of sunlight that had dried the sidewalk from yesterday’s rain. Their eyes were closed, and Elizabeth ’s head rested on Bear’s hip. “I imagine they can sleep inside the house as well as they can outside.”
Another instant of hesitation was followed by another headshake. “I don’t think so.”
With a little more coaxing, Liz thought, she might change her mind. But maybe not. Maybe Lizwas the only weak one around.
“I’ll see you later, then.” She turned, heading for her car, but when she reached it, she didn’t open the door. It wasn’t far downtown, and it was a beautiful day. Her sandals were comfortable enough for walking, and she wouldn’t be contributing to the emissions that dirtied the air.
That last thought caught her off guard.
It was a pleasant walk. People working in their yards spoke to her, and she spoke back. In between, though, her thoughts remained on the phone call last night with Mika.
Liz’s gut instincts said no. With the weight of the vehicle and the speed at which it was traveling, the decorative iron fence at River’s Edge would have collapsed like toothpicks. The driver could have run them down without delaying his getaway by more than a few seconds. If he preferred to avoid damage to the truck, his passenger could have shot them both and, again, they could have disappeared within seconds.
Which meant it was either a warning or a random occurrence. Mika didn’t like randomness; it didn’t fit neatly into her structured view of the world. But the near- miss could have been nothing more than a prank, as Liz had first thought. Kids with more booze than sense. God knew, the world was full of irresponsible people causing unintended consequences.
And you haven’t seen anyone you know around town, Mika had confirmed.
