After Love (22 page)

The small street was crowded with law-enforcement equipment, and Nick had to work his way through it to hit a main street that would take him home.

Once he was inside the townhouse, Harley greeted him enthusiastically, and Nick rubbed the dog's head. “You didn't miss out on anything tonight.” In fact, Nick was glad Harley hadn't gone along because he could have caught a bullet too—and Harley didn't have a vest. Yet. Nick made a mental note to order him one for the next time they did fieldwork.

Nick carefully pulled his vest off and dropped it on the couch, then pulled his shirt up to see the damage. The skin wasn't broken, but the point of impact was dark red, indicating a deep bruise that would turn all shades of purple in the next few days.

After the night he'd had, Nick had halfway convinced himself that having Jamie naked in his bed was some sort of dream. But as he stood in the doorway, she was still there. The blanket was still across the middle of her body, but her legs and arms were sprawled on top of the comforter.

In that instant he decided that he needed a nice, long cold shower if he was going to make it through the night with his good intentions. He stripped and tossed his dirty clothes in the hamper. The shower washed the dirt and sweat away, but it also calmed down his libido. As he dried off, he decided to get a pillow and blanket out of his bedroom and sleep on the couch. There was no way he could sleep in the bed with her without his penis finding its way inside her.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and went back into the dark bedroom. Jamie was using one of the pillows, so he reached across her to get the other one. To his surprise, he felt the towel drop to the floor and her fingers wrap around his dick.

“You're back,” she whispered. “This is a really big bed.” She stroked his dick, and he swelled in her hand. “I need you, Nick.”

Well, shit. He wasn't made of stone. He dropped the pillow back on the bed and climbed on top of her.

“Yes…yes…” She exhaled a soft sigh as his lips closed around one of her nipples. Her grip tightened and she continued to caress his cock.

He didn't want to pull out of her hand, but even more than feeling her touch, he wanted to taste her. His mouth trailed kisses down her stomach until his face was buried between her legs. He lapped at the swollen bud of her womanhood while his fingers slipped in and out. She moaned and thrashed about, driven to the brink quickly by his focused assault. He continued until she cried out, her fingers buried in his hair and her hips arched off the bed. When she finally collapsed, exhausted from the intensity, her fingers released their hold.

Nick moved up until his head was on the pillow next to hers. She levered up until she was looking into his eyes. A slow, sexy smile stretched her lips.

“Now it's your turn,” she whispered, her breath hot against his skin as she slid down his body.

He gasped as her mouth closed around his dick. Her hands cupped and squeezed his balls as her lips moved up and down his hardened length. Her tongue teased his sensitive flesh, and her mouth provided an erotic friction until he could hold back no longer.

Thoroughly sated, they curled up in each other's arms and fell asleep.

Sunshine slipping through the blinds and penetrating his eyelids, combined with a cold, wet nose thrust against the small of his back, brought Nick wide awake. He reached for Jamie, but her side of the bed was empty. He could smell the delicious scent of bacon and eggs cooking and deduced she was in the kitchen. Damn, he hadn't even known he had any bacon.

Nick stretched, then groaned when he flexed his chest muscles. He glanced down at the brilliantly colored bruise in the center of his chest. Shit, he couldn't let Jamie see that.

Harley was waiting patiently next to the bed. “I'll take you out in a minute,” Nick promised. He stood and went to his bureau, where he pulled out a T-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts. He had just put on the shorts and was lifting the shirt over his head when he heard a gasp.

“My God,” Jamie breathed in horror. Her gaze was focused on the damage to his chest. In her hands was his vest. “Just another night on the job, right?” She tossed the jacket on the bed.

“I'm fine. Just a little bruise…” Nick jerked the shirt on to cover the evidence.

“I'll call a cab to take me back to my car,” she said as she looked around the room for her shoes. “Don't make this harder than it is. I'll text you the name of another trainer.” She found one shoe but couldn't find the other. Frustrated, she stuffed the one shoe into her purse and ran out of the room barefoot.

Nick ran after her. “Don't go. Let's talk about this.”

“I lov— I really like you, Nick. But I can't be around to watch you die. I've been through that…and I can't do it again.”

“I'm not going to….”

She gave Harley a hug, then yanked the door open. “Your bacon is burning,” she said as she left, and pulled the door shut behind her.

The pain in her chest was so severe she thought she might be having a heart attack. She sat in the back of the cab, her fists balled against her lungs, and tried not to cry. Not here…not now. There would be time for that when she was alone in her room.

She transferred from the cab to her car at the restaurant, then drove home, biting her lip all the way to keep her mind focused on the road.

Once back at Woof Gang, there were the morning chores to distract her. One thing led to another, and it was after dark before she was ready to slip away.

Jared must have sensed something was wrong because he surprised her by making spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. Food was the last thing on her mind, but this was such a rare event that she couldn't turn him down. She noted that he had even taken time to clean the house…or at least throw away the trash and put his clothes and boots away.

As they ate, she told her brother about the great contacts she had made at the police conference, and he was genuinely excited at the prospect of new contracts. Jamie noticed Jared was smiling more lately and was a lot more talkative. He'd been going into town a lot more too. Could there be a woman in his life? Jamie hoped so. He was a great guy, and after all he'd been through, he deserved a break.

But he didn't talk about it, and she didn't ask. He would tell her when he wanted her to know. And of course she didn't share anything that had happened between her and Nick. If anything had come of their “friendship,” she would have told Jared. Now that it was really and truly over, there was no need to ever mention it. That thought brought back the ache to her heart, and she felt her throat tighten. She knew she was dangerously close to tears, but she fought them back. Not here…not now.

A half hour later, after she'd shooed Jared off to the living room to take off his artificial legs while she cleaned up the kitchen, Jamie was finally able to drag herself out to the kennel, lock her door, and fall across her bed. She had showered before dinner, so all she had to do was brush her teeth and change into the oversized soft cotton T-shirt she wore to sleep in.

But once on her bed, she couldn't muster enough energy to do even that. Her body ached all over like she had the flu. The little twin bed that had required her and Nick to cling together like spoons to keep from tumbling off now seemed too big…and lonely. It was just like the first night after Mike died. She had had no hope of ever feeling love or happiness again. For her there would be no life after love ended.

Then along had come Nick…wisecracking, smart-ass Nick, who had been around the block more times than he could count. In spite of being a bit of a rogue, he loved his job and wasn't likely to quit or move on to something safer. It was just a matter of time until a bullet missed his vest and buried itself in his skull or nicked his femoral artery and he bled to death, or someone stabbed him in the neck with a knife, or any number of grisly, fatal scenarios.

Jamie had been determined not to let her heart get involved. The sex was good….Hell, it was explosive. But as spectacular as it was, that was not what had made her start to care about Nick. It was the discovery that beneath that rough exterior was a gentle, caring soul. When he played with his kids or talked to his grandmother or slipped Harley scraps when he didn't think anyone was watching, she could see that this big, tough man was, at his core, a softie. He didn't hesitate to risk his life to take down a drug dealer or to save a kid he didn't even know. His swagger disguised a vulnerability and a heart as big as Texas.

Good God…she had fallen in love with him! She loved his twinkling eyes, his crooked grin, his deep chuckle that vibrated through her when she was snuggled against his chest. She loved how strong his arms were and how safe she felt with him. She loved the way he treated her and looked at her and made her purr. She loved him.

There
was
life after love. There was even love after love. Her feelings for Mike had been strong. He would always be her first love. They had been young and giddy…all hearts and flowers.

But what she felt for Nick was different. He was solid and confident and, most of all, supportive. He made her feel smart and special and oh, so beautiful.

Not that he had ever given her even the tiniest hint that he loved her. For all she knew, he could still be 100 percent committed to the friends-with-benefits plan. He had mentioned several times that he would never marry again and had no interest in a serious relationship.

Jamie massaged her throbbing temples. She knew the relationship had to be over. She knew she had said that before and, at the time, she had meant it. But learning that he had pulled strings to get her into the convention had softened her resolve. Then sitting next to him at the restaurant brought back a rush of emotions that she had tried to drown with margaritas.

She couldn't blame it on being drunk because she hadn't been so far gone that she wasn't aware that she was in his home and in his bed. She had wanted him to hold her and make love to her and to tell her that he loved her and wanted her to stay.

And he
had
held her and made love to her, but there had been no professions or promises. It was their agreement, exactly what she had wanted…and exactly what she had received.

The bigger issue, of course, was that he was a cop. He didn't wear a uniform or the same badge as Mike, but he was in basically the same profession. And bottom line, she couldn't bear the thought of burying another man she loved.

So this time, it was truly the end. Yes, it would hurt and it would take her a long while to get over him. But it would hurt far less to cut all ties now than to fall more deeply in love with him and have him break her heart by leaving her or, worse, by being killed.

She had been holding it in all day, but finally the tears began to flow. She curled into a ball on top of her comforter and sobbed. She cried for Mike…for Nick…for herself…for love lost and for love that could have been. The time was now….The place was here. She was all alone.

Nick knocked on the door of the CSI supervisor's office. “We meeting in here or the conference room?”

“Conference room,” she replied. “Be there in a minute.”

Nick and Harley continued down the hall to the conference room at the end. Ten oversized executive chairs encircled a large wooden table. As usual, Nick chose a chair with his back to the wall, and Harley stretched out next to him.

“Okay, you ready to go?” Sharon, her arms filled with files, entered the room and took the chair across from Nick.

“Expecting a big crowd today?” he asked.

“No, it's you and me. I just need to get out of my office, you know? I'm not adjusted to being here all day, every day.”

“I get that. Two hours a week is about it for me.”

“And is this the infamous Harley I've heard so much about?”

“Yes, but he's just out of rehab for his strawberry addiction.”

Sharon chuckled. “Well, here's what we've got.” She set the files on the table, picked up the first one, and slid it across to Nick. “These are the five kids who were the cooks in the lab last night. The one with the death notice is the one who died last night. Good news is we've got their fingerprints everywhere.”

Nick glanced through the file, spending a moment on each picture and the perp's background. He glanced over the death certificate of the one who had died. “This is the dude on the john. What about the guy I shot?”

“He'll live. He's still at University Medical.”

“Is he the one who shot me?”

“We haven't run a ballistics test, but his gun was the same caliber as the bullet in your vest.”

“Can I have a copy of this file?”

“This
is
your copy. You can take it with you.” Sharon slid a second file to Nick. “The governor's personal aide walked the DNA sample through the state lab last night. Here are the preliminary results.”

Nick flipped through the file quickly, then stopped and pointed at a notation. “So there was one more person there after all.”

“We didn't find his fingerprints on anything, but he apparently drank something because we picked up his DNA on a glass that was in the sink. We couldn't match it to anyone in our files, but the lab is running his DNA against the national database. It could take a few days or it could be a dead end. If he's been arrested before, we'll learn his identity.”

Nick slapped the table. “Dickshit lied to me. He said they'd never seen the boss.”

Sharon didn't look surprised but did offer an option. “He could have been in the apartment before anyone else arrived…you know, to set it up or to drop off the materials.”

“Maybe.” Nick grudgingly accepted it as a possibility.

“I'll let you know the minute we get a hit,” Sharon promised. She picked up a third folder and held it out to Nick. “Here's the lab analysis of the product they were making. They dipped it in a chlorine ammonia solution.”

Nick's eyes bulged. “So the kids were smoking
and
breathing chlorine gas?”

“Looks like it.”

“But why?” Nick was struggling to understand why a person would intentionally add poison to a product, then sell it to kids.

“It packs a powerful punch…makes you light-headed, melancholic. This guy just has no quality control, so some loosies are poisoned but not deadly, and others are loaded. It's like Russian roulette. Want to read the report?”

Nick held his hands up. “
No más, amigo
….No speak chemistry.”

“Your Spanish didn't get better in Mexico, did it?” Sharon smiled.

“Too busy running.” He pushed back from the table and picked up his file. “Text me as soon as you find out this bastard's identity.” Nick pointed to her and stood up.

“You'll be the first to know….Bye, Harley. Take good care of your handler.”

“Thanks. Come on, Harley.”

Harley jumped up and shook as he stood next to Nick, ears perked and ready to go. They stopped to say hello to Bobbi, who was very pleased that she had been able to give the governor a promising report. Nick considered going to the jail and having another chat with his new best friend, Carl.

But he was hungry. His bacon had, indeed, burned to a crisp. Harley hadn't minded and gobbled it down, but Nick had skipped breakfast. He'd tried to catch Jamie and followed her out to the curb. She'd called Uber, and the driver must have been just down the street because he got there in record time. Before Nick could stop her, she'd jumped inside the car, slammed the door, and urged the driver to go.

Nick absently rubbed his chest. The pain was deeper than just the bruise. He still didn't believe in love, but he had to admit that his feelings for Jamie were stronger than for anyone else he'd ever dated. He would have fought for her if he'd thought he had a chance…but when his competition was a ghost, he accepted that it was a hopeless cause.

“In you go, boy.” Nick held the truck door open and Harley jumped into the backseat. Nick exited the garage and drove straight to a surface lot near Sixth Street. He had class today, and he wanted to grab some lunch first. He got a firm hold on Harley's leash and boldly walked through the doors and into the Jackalope. Nick took his favorite stool and gave Harley a stern look. “Harley, down, boy,” he ordered, and Harley slid under the stool next to his.

“Well, look who showed up!”

“Hey, Gina. How you doing?”

“Me? Heard you took a heart shot last night.” She frowned with genuine concern as she tossed a coaster on the bar.

“Iced tea for now. Where did you hear it was a heart shot?”

“Someone came in earlier and was talking about a raid last night.”

Nick perked up. “Was it a cop?” He couldn't believe any of the law-enforcement officers involved in the raid had been loose lipped about what went down.

“No, I don't think so. He wasn't in uniform.”

Nick placed all five pictures on the bar and turned them toward Gina. “Have you ever seen any of these guys before?”

Gina picked up each picture and examined it for moment. “I don't think so. Which one died?”

Nick scooped up the pictures and put them back in the folder. “Shit, you know more about it than half the guys that were there.”

“I'm a bartender.”

“Well, bring me a cheeseburger and fries. And don't forget my iced tea.”

“Have I ever screwed up your order?” She left without waiting for an answer, because, of course, she already knew the answer would be no.

In a moment she was back with a large glass of tea. “Sugar?”

“Four.”

She reached under the bar and delivered four packets. As she leaned over, she caught sight of Harley. “You'd better keep him out of sight. My boss is still trying to get the bar-back not to sue us.”

“Want me to convince him?” Nick offered.

“Oh, right. I'm sure intimidating him would do a lot of good. It's your dog who caused all this.”

“Relax. He's been trained not to react to strawberries. He passed a daiquiri test last night.”

“Trained, huh?” Gina rested her elbows on the bar and leaned forward. “How
is
Jamie, anyway?”

Nick added the sugar and stirred with a swizzle stick he had lifted from the container on the other side of the bar. “Working…dog training. That's about it.”

“Dog training? You mean Jamie training,” she accused.

Nick's mood darkened. Fuck, how long would it be before just hearing her name stopped making his heart ache? “She's back at her ranch. I guess you could say she moved on.”

“From you?” Gina scoffed. “What's wrong with her?”

“She doesn't like cops. I guess the bullet in my vest was a wake-up call for her.”

“Too bad. You're a nice guy.”

“Don't spread that around. It'll ruin my reputation.”

A runner from the kitchen brought his hamburger and fries. Without being asked, Gina got a bottle of ketchup and the salt and pepper shakers and set them in front of him. Nick doctored his food up, then lifted the big burger to his mouth and took a bite.

“These guys in the pictures, they're the ones killing the kids?” Gina asked.

“I don't think so. They're only the cooks. We're still looking for the boss.”

“What do you have so far?”

“Between us?” Nick leaned forward and beckoned her to come closer. “Ask the snitch who's been feeding you all this shit about me.” He leaned back.

For a few seconds Gina was flabbergasted, then she smiled. “Touché! I hope you catch the jerk. If I hear anything, I'll let you know. You're my favorite badge.”

“I'd appreciate it.” Nick finished his meal and pulled a twenty out of his money clip. “I gotta go.”

She pushed the money back to him. “This one's on the house. You've had a stretch of bad luck.”

“Shit, if I'd known that's what it took, I'd have been eating here for free since 2009.” He pushed the twenty back. “Keep it as a tip. I depend on you for all my news.”

She pocketed the cash with a smile.

Nick handed the last bite of hamburger to Harley, tightened his hold on the leash, and left.

He was all the way to the street in front of the media building when he thought,
Fuck it, I'm going to ditch class today
. He didn't want to hang out with Bane and the others, wasting hours on the porch talking about life, politics, and love through the eyes of twenty-one-year-olds. On some level he envied them for their youth and innocence, and on another level he never wanted to be that naive and gullible again. From his experience when he had gone to college, many students soaked in whatever bullshit their professors shoveled out and never questioned the logic or truth in what they heard. He just wasn't in the mood for scholarly philosophy today. What he needed was a heavy dose of family support.

An hour later he pulled up at Grammy's old farmhouse. Harley had recognized the turn off the county road and was pacing from side to side in the backseat, as anxious as Nick was to get there.

Grammy was on the front porch, sitting on a rocker, her feet propped up on the railing. A cloud of bluish white smoke hung around her head in the still late-afternoon air. Nick parked his pickup and opened the rear door for Harley to jump out. He stood there, dancing around, waiting for his man to give him the word. He was too well trained to take off without permission.

“Go play, Harley. You're always off duty here,” Nick said, and the dog bolted around to the back of the house in search of rabbits. Nick walked up the creaky wooden steps until he joined Grammy on the porch.

“How cool is this? An unexpected visit. Glad to see you, Nicky!” Grammy leaned forward, and Nick gave her a hug before sitting down on the chair next to her. “What brings you out here on a Thursday?” she asked bluntly.

“I've had a crappy week.”

“You look like you could use a drag or three. No one can see you.”

“Can't, Grammy. They test, and it would be my job. Right now that's all I've got going for me.”

“There's beer in the fridge.”

Nick went into the house and returned with two beers and a bottle of Jack. He took a generous shot, then another, and followed them with most of the first can of beer.

“To each his own,” Grammy commented, and took a drag of her joint. Harley ran up onto the porch and dropped down next to Grammy, panting in exhaustion. “Hey, Harley.” She leaned over and petted him. “Tell me, what's wrong with your daddy?”

Nick sighed. “Jamie fired us…I mean me.”

“Fired? I thought you two weren't together anymore.”

“Well, we weren't, then we were, but now we're not.”

“What did you do?”

Nick finished his first beer and opened the second. He didn't even bother asking why his grandmother assumed it was his fault. She'd known him too long…through the good, the bad, and the ugly of his teenage years and early adulthood. “Jamie's a police widow, Grammy. I can't guarantee I won't make her a widow a second time. All she wanted was the sex, but then even that wasn't enough.”

“Well, I don't know if you're good in bed or not, but that would never be enough. There's an old song that says to love the one you're with. But that applies when you have no one else you care to love or who loves you.”

Nick looked at Grammy, completely confused. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

She took another deep drag. “This just happened, didn't it?”

“How did you know?”

“You've always acted immediately whenever something bad happened. How many times did you get into trouble when you were a little boy because you stormed off and did something without thinking first?”

Nick nodded his acceptance of that truth. “Too many. I'm really too bummed for a lecture right now.”

“No lecture. Just something to think about. That song is about loving someone who is available, not someone who you love or who makes your heart beat faster.”

“So?”

“It's about thinking with your heart and not your dick. Is that how you want the rest of your life to go? Loving the one who is available?”

Nick poured another shot and downed it.

“Look, your first wife, what's-her-name, gave you two wonderful sons, but she wasn't the love of your life. She was just the one who was available at that time. I think it's totally different with Jamie. I saw the way you looked at her.”

Nick exhaled, his lips puckering as the liquor and her words began to sink into his brain.

“For me, being in love—and I've been there a number of times—was always with someone I didn't want to live without…but they were never available. That's why I'm seventy-six years old and fucking alone.” She sucked in, held the smoke for a few seconds, then exhaled slowly. “So Nick, two questions.”