Close Enough to Kill (26 page)

“You look beat,” she said.

He dropped his black vinyl overnight bag on the floor, reached out and pulled Bernie into his arms. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Have you been drinking?” she asked.

“I don’t drink and drive.” He buried his face in her shoulder and kissed her neck.

She went rigid. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Don’t get your panties in a wad, Sheriff.” He lifted his head and released her. Damn uptight…Why did she tense up every time he touched her? “You’re not going to have to fight me off.”

“Jim, you’re acting peculiar.”

“Dad?” Kevin roused from his nap, lifting his head from the sofa and waving at his father. Boomer wiggled around, lifted his head and stared at Jim.

“Yeah, it’s me, son. I’m home.”

“I tried to stay awake,” Kevin said.

“You didn’t have to. Why don’t you go on to bed? I’ll see you in the morning.”

Yawning, Kevin staggered to his feet, then plodded sleepily to his bedroom; Boomer trotted along behind him. As soon as Kevin was out of earshot, Bernie grabbed Jim’s arm.

“What makes you think that if you made a move on me, I’d want to fight you off?”

“Huh?” He was too tired, too frustrated and too horny to play word games.

“Did you meet some sexy little number on the plane, somebody who got you all hot and bothered?” Bernie asked. “Is that why you—?”

He grabbed her, yanked her to him and looked her right in the eyes. “If I’d met a woman on the plane who turned me on, I’d have booked a room, stayed overnight in Huntsville and fucked her brains out until morning.”

Bernie stared at him, her eyes wide, her mouth agape.

“But you know what the funny thing is, Sheriff Granger?”

She shook her head.

“The only thing I could think about after I boarded my flight home was you and Kevin and how much I was looking forward to seeing both of you, to coming home to you and my son.”

Moisture glistened in Bernie’s golden brown eyes.

“And if my son wasn’t back there asleep in his bedroom, I’d be all over you right now, because, lady, I’ve got the hard-on from hell, and you’re the one who gave it to me.”

“I—I—”

Jim kissed her—deep and hard and long. His tongue in her mouth and his hands on her ass. But less than a minute into the kiss, he ended it. Both of them gasped for air.

“I’d better go home,” she said.

“Yeah, you’d better.”

She grabbed her shoulder bag off the coffee table and headed for the front door. Jim followed her. After opening the door, she turned and faced him.

“You can give me a full report on your trip to Greenville in the morning,” she said.

“I’ll do that.”

“Boomer can spend the night with Kevin, and he can take Boomer with him over to my parents’ house in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Good night, then.”

“Good night.” When she stepped out onto the porch, he followed her. “Oh, by the way, tomorrow night I’m going to take you out on a date, if that’s all right with you.”

“It’s all right with me.”

“I’ll call your folks in the morning and see if Kevin can sleep over tomorrow night. Is that all right with you, too?”

“Yes, it is.”

Jim kissed her again—on both cheeks, then on her lips. When he lifted his head, he grinned. “See you in the morning, honey.”

“Uh-huh.” She turned and floated down the steps, up the sidewalk and to her Jeep.

Jim had checked with Bernie before making reservations at River’s End, since that was where he’d gone with Robyn on their date. But it was the only really fancy restaurant in the area, unless you drove to Huntsville. It had been a long time since he’d wanted to impress a woman. A long time? Who was he kidding? It had been forever. Not since back when he’d been young and madly in love with Mary Lee. Not that he was in love with Bernie. Not exactly. He wasn’t a guy who used the “L” word lightly. Actually, he’d seldom used the word, even when he’d been married. Maybe that was because Mary Lee had said it all the time, to everybody. Said it without any meaning, with no conviction behind it, no actions to support it.

He didn’t think much about Mary Lee any longer, except in connection to their son. He didn’t hate her. Didn’t love her. Didn’t care. But for Kevin’s sake, he hoped she would regain her health and live to a ripe old age.

After he’d made reservations for seven-thirty at River’s End, Jim got to thinking about picking Bernie up in his old truck. One of these days, he’d have to buy something a little newer, but future purchases hadn’t solved his problem for tonight. In the end, he’d just told Bernie about his predicament, something he wouldn’t have dared do with any other woman. Just one more reason why he liked her so much.

“We’ll take my Jeep,” she’d said. “No problem.”

No problem. No demands. No bitching and complaining. No unreasonable expectations. Bernie was a low-maintenance woman. How lucky could a man get?

Yeah, just how lucky would he get tonight? Jim chuckled nervously as he pulled up in front of Bernie’s house, leaving the driveway clear for them to back out in her Jeep. He sure as hell hoped that he and Bernie were on the same page about this date; otherwise, he’d make a complete fool of himself later when he took her back to his place.

Just take things slow and easy. Let her lead and you follow.

When he got out of his truck, he bent down and glanced at himself in the dusty rearview mirror. Maybe he should have worn a tie instead of leaving the button-down shirt open at the neck. But if he’d worn his tie, he’d have had to have worn his suit because the two matched. Would Bernie be disappointed because he’d dressed in khaki pants and a hunter green shirt? He didn’t want to disappoint her, but at the same time, if they were going to be dating, she’d just have to take him as he was. Jim Norton was no
GQ
cover model. His sense of style was nil. He dressed for comfort, not fashion.

But what if she’s wearing some slinky little dress and maybe bling-bling earrings and—nah, not his Bernie. She wasn’t the bling-bling type. But she had mentioned that Robyn was so excited that Bernie had a date, she’d offered to come over and do Bernie’s hair and makeup.

The walk to Bernie’s front door seemed a mile long.
That’s because you’re nervous. You’d think you were fourteen, not forty. Good God man, your life doesn’t depend on how this date turns out.

Then again, maybe it does.

He rang the doorbell.

“Be right there,” Bernie called out to him.

Two minutes later, while he shuffled his feet and took some deep breaths to calm his jitters, Bernie opened the door.

“I’m ready.”

At first all he saw was her wide, wonderful smile. Then he focused on her entire face. No heavy makeup. No cat-eyes black liner. No red lipstick. Instead, she looked like Bernie always looked, except her skin had a glow to it. The makeup was subtle and suited Bernie perfectly. Pinky peach and subdued.

Jim took a step back so he could scan her from head to toe. “Wow!”

Twirling in a look-at-me spin, she laughed. “Robyn brought over five new outfits for me to try on,” Bernie admitted. “And this was the only one that I felt halfway comfortable in. She took the others back to the store.”

“You look good, honey.”

Good enough to eat.

The dress was simple. He figured it was silk. Light yellow silk. Short sleeves, round neckline that didn’t plunge to show off her cleavage and a hem that hit her at the knees. No bling-bling. Just simple little pearl studs in her ears, a gold watch on one wrist, and a single-strand pearl bracelet on the other.

Jim offered her his arm. “Your carriage awaits.” He laughed. “And it is
your
carriage.”

She turned and locked her front door, then handed him her key ring. “You drive, okay?”

“Okay.”

Smiling warmly, with a sly little twinkle in her eyes, she slipped her arm through his. “I haven’t looked forward so much to a date in a long time.”

That was another thing he liked about Bernie. She was a straight shooter. No games. Just up-front and honest.

“Yeah, me, too,” he said, then walked her out to her Jeep.

Raymond had met Robyn at the fitness center and walked her home, something he did almost every day. He was so attentive, so adoring, like a faithful little puppy. At least that’s the way she’d thought of him at first, but not so much now. She’d told him when they had started dating that it would not be an exclusive relationship, and at the time she’d meant it. Funny thing was that since the night they’d made love for the first time, she hadn’t had sex with anyone else. Why should she? Raymond was a fabulous lover.

So what if everybody in town was referring to them as the odd couple. So what if her own mother had questioned the wisdom of her dating Raymond. And why should she care that Helen Long was disappointed that her son was dating the wrong Granger sister?

“Do you want to drive into Huntsville tonight?” Raymond asked as he took Robyn’s key from her and opened the door to her apartment.

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m not in the mood to make the club scene tonight. Why don’t we stay in and—” She cuddled up to his side, slid her arm around his waist and nuzzled his neck.

Raymond blushed. She loved that she could make him blush. He was such a sweetie.

When Robyn walked into her apartment, she stepped on something that made her foot slide. Tightening her hold around Raymond’s waist to steady herself, she halted immediately, then looked down at the floor and saw a small white envelope.
How odd.

“What is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.” She pointed to the envelope. “That’s not yours, is it?”

“The envelope? No, it’s not mine.”

Robyn pulled away from him, bent over and picked up the envelope. “Somebody must have slipped it under the door sometime today.”

“Maybe it’s a message from one of your old boyfriends.” Raymond’s voice held a hint of jealousy. “Dr. Kelley or Paul Landon or Ron Hensley or—”

She whirled around, envelope in hand, and held it out to him. “Here, you open it.”

He stared at her hand for a few seconds, then took the envelope. “It has your name printed on the front. See.” He held it up, pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

“Just open the damn thing, will you?”

Raymond ripped it open, removed a single sheet of paper and scanned the page. “I don’t think it’s from any of your old boyfriends.”

“Oh, what does it say?”

He read, “I worship you from afar, my beautiful Robyn.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

An uneasy feeling rippled along her nerve endings. “It’s an odd note, isn’t it?”

“Not really all that odd when we both know that most of the men in Adams County are halfway in love with you.”

He is jealous. But he has no reason to be. Maybe there are a lot of men in Adams County who have the hots for me, but I’m not interested in any of them. I don’t want any of them.

She wrapped her arms around Raymond’s neck and gazed into his eyes. “Well, I’m not halfway in love with any other man. Only with you.”

Every muscle in his body tensed. He pulled away from her. “Don’t do that. Don’t play games with me. Don’t say something you don’t mean.”

“What if I do mean it?”
Yeah, what if I do?

“Do you?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I think I do.” She laughed. “Wow, when did that happen?”

“Robyn?”

“Look, this is all new to me. I wasn’t expecting to go and fall for you. The sex is great and all, but…oh, jeez, Raymond, you know you’re not really my type, so it never entered my head that anything more would come of our relationship.”

“Don’t get upset, sweetheart.” He clamped his hands around her upper arms. “We’ll take this one step at a time. I won’t try to rush you into anything. Right now, having you halfway in love with me is more than I’d ever dared hope for.”

Dinner had been delicious. The wine perfect. The candlelit atmosphere romantic. So far, this was turning out to be the most wonderful evening of Bernie’s life. On the way to River’s End, they had made a pact not to discuss business.

“Only personal stuff,” Jim had said.

Dinner conversation had included sharing stories of their childhoods, exchanging horrid memories of each of their worst dates ever, and touching on the subject of what had gone wrong in their marriages. They had both been betrayed by cheating spouses whom they had later divorced. She and Jim felt the same way about marriage, about fidelity, about trust.

“Want to dance before we order dessert?” Jim asked.

“I’d love to dance with you.” Any excuse to be in his arms.

He stood, came around and pulled out her chair, then took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. The restaurant didn’t have a band, just a lone piano player whose repertoire seemed to include every old romantic standard ever written. As Jim eased Bernie into his arms, the pianist began playing a sentimental rendition of “Someone to Watch over Me.”

“You know what?” Bernie said.

“What?”

“You’re a good dancer.”

Jim chuckled.

“A good dancer, a good listener, a good friend, a good father…”

Jim tightened his hold around her, pressing her intimately against him as he whispered in her ear. “You’re showering me with all these compliments just because later tonight you want to get in my pants.”

Bernie giggled. “I can’t fool you, can I? You saw right through me, straight to my ulterior motive.”

“I think you’re pretty special, too, you know.”

“Is that right?”

“Uh-huh. And just in case there’s any doubt in your mind about my ulterior motive—”

He paused on the dance floor, long enough to pull her closer, close enough so that she felt his erection.

Every nerve in her body tingled. A clutching grip tightened and then released inside her.

“I believe we have the same ulterior motive,” she told him.

“Would I be rushing things if I suggested we skip dessert and head over to my place?”

“I’m really not hungry for dessert.”

Jim released her, reached down and took her hand, then led her off the dance floor and back to their table. He called the waiter, asked for their check, and paid him immediately, telling the young man not to bother with any change. Hand in hand, Jim and Bernie hurried out of the restaurant. Once inside her Jeep, he leaned across the console, circled her neck with his big hand and pulled her toward him so that he could kiss her.

When he lifted his head, he pulled back and looked at her. “I’m not real good with words, you know. I may not say all the right things. Things you’d like to hear. But…I…er…it won’t be just sex for me, for us. I care about you.”

“I care about you, too,” she said. “And it’s all right that you’re not good with words. You know what they say—actions speak louder than words. I’m a woman who likes action.”

“That I can give you, honey. In spades.”

Dear God, if this is a dream, don’t let me ever wake up.

Robyn came for the second time. Screaming, shuddering, unraveling completely. As the aftershocks trickled through her, she spread out over Raymond and laid her head on his shoulder. He caressed her naked hip as he kissed her forehead.

“Mm…mm.” She loved making love with Raymond. Not once had they had sex that she hadn’t come, usually more than once.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Ravenous.”

“Want me to go out and pick us up something?”

Sighing contentedly, she rubbed her naked body over his, then rolled off him and stretched. “Why don’t we just fix sandwiches? I’d rather stay right here and go straight back to bed after we eat.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“You think so, huh?”

“Oh, yes. I can see the headlines now:
RAYMOND LONG DIES IN THE THROES OF PASSION
.”

Giggling, Robyn cuddled against him, then kissed his shoulder. “You know what—I really am halfway in love with you.”

He came up over her, lowered his head and said, “And I’m completely, totally, madly in love with you.” Then he gave her a long, slow, wet kiss.

The phone rang.

“Who the hell?” She rolled over, then reached out and lifted the crystal receiver from the brass and crystal base on her nightstand. “This had better be important because you’re interrupting something wonderful.”

“Did you get my note?” the male voice asked.

Robyn gripped the telephone tightly as she sat up in bed. “Who is this?”

“I’m your secret admirer.”

“What did you say?”

Raymond sat up and put his arm around Robyn. “Who is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’m your secret admirer, my darling,” the muffled voice repeated. “And when the time is right, I will reveal my identity to you. But for now, sleep well, my beautiful Robyn. And dream of your mystery lover who longs to touch you, longs to whisper love sonnets in your ear, longs to fulfill your every fantasy.”

Robyn slammed the phone down on the base, terror racing through her at breakneck speed. “My God. Oh, my God!”

Raymond turned her in his arms, then grasped her chin and forced her to look at him. “Who was that?”

“My—my secret admirer.”

“Your what?”

“He said he was my secret admirer, that he’d sent the note we found on the floor, and that when the time is right, he’ll reveal his identity to me.”

Raymond wrapped her in his trembling arms. “It’ll be all right, sweetheart. It’ll be all right. But we need to call Bernie and tell her what’s happened.”