Jacked (22 page)

I drifted my hand down to his wrist but Adam gave me his hand, opened and offered, beckoning my fingers to lace around his. He was letting me in, trusting me with some of his deepest wounds and scars. It felt so good to have that with him.

I could see it the grim set of his lips, in the crinkle of his sad eyes, knowing firsthand the destructive wrath of false accusations and the crushing weight of guilt.

Now, only if I could trust Adam with mine.

IT DIDN’T TAKE
long to reach the strip mall where the notary services were located. He knew exactly where I needed to go without me having to direct him, and after his explanation, the silence was actually preferred.

Adam pulled into an open spot, cut the ignition, and then said to me, “Stay there.”

Huh?

Stay?

Don’t I go in there with you, too?

I watched him hustle around the front of the truck, coming over to the passenger door, opening it for me. He held out his hand.

Holy shit.

As soon as we touched again, I felt it. Warmth and strength and breath-rending anticipation mixed with a million other tiny impulses. I knew I wasn’t going crazy.

Moth, meet your flame.

He placed his hand on my back, guiding me through the threshold when he opened the door.

I wracked my brain, trying to remember if any guy I’d ever spent time with opened doors like that for me.
Mark? No. He was a selfish asshole. Randy? Maybe once but it was probably by accident as chivalry was a stretch for him.

“Hi! Can I help you?” some young girl with long, straight brown hair said, slightly bouncing on her toes and smiling at Adam as if he were dipped in sugary candy coating when we approached the counter.

Part of me considered giving her a tracheotomy with the pen lying out on the counter to lessen her buoyant enthusiasm. Impaling her in the middle of her forehead to drain her frontal lobe also sounded tempting.
Whoa.
The possessive, jealous feelings coming over me were disconcerting to say the least. I was just about to speak up, tell her why I was here, but Adam took over, handling it.

The moment he started speaking I sort of froze and rocked back on my foot. This was a new, unsettling feeling, and one I wasn’t sure I was completely comfortable with. Usually I’m the one directing the team, giving instructions, orchestrating the chaos when a trauma patient comes in.

But as I stood there, doing nothing more than watching him handle things with clear and concise instructions, I felt a wave of relief wash over me, followed by a warm rush of feminine appreciation.

Oh, believe me, the urge to bark orders was simmering right there on the surface. Even the desire to move Adam’s rock-solid cop body out of the way, point at the paperwork and say, “You need to do this—STAT” was there. But, for once, I didn’t need to exercise any control over the situation.

In fact, the only control I needed to embolden was to silence myself and let him take the lead.

What a liberating feeling. I felt light, ethereal… almost giddy.

I knew my ER residency was taking its toll on me—dealing with unspeakable traumas and horrific wounds and trying to determine from a laundry list of symptoms what was ailing a patient. I just hadn’t had a benchmark to compare it to—until now.

“Erin, need that paper,” Adam said, stirring me from my self-analysis to hand over the copy of the police report.

While I filled out a required form, Adam hovered next to me. I thought he was scrutinizing my handwriting until he leaned even closer, giving me all of his attention. I felt the heat warming my cheeks. I wondered if we might be sharing some of the same illicit thoughts?
Does he feel the same attraction? The same unfulfilled sexual tension? Or is it just me? Perhaps I am just imagining it all
.

“Excuse me. Sorry, I have to ask. Aren’t you the cop on the billboard near—?” the young girl started to gush when she stopped typing into her computer.

Adam cut her cleanly off with a curt, “No.” He didn’t even bother to look at her when he answered; he kept his eyes trained on me instead. Or maybe it was just my lips.

I couldn’t help but smile at him. We both ignored her request to take a picture with him.

His finger brushed over the sleeve of my coat. “So, what are you hungry for?”

I felt the blush again, and held back my first instinct to answer plain and simple—
You
.

I GLANCED UP
at the familiar green awning over the windows, wondering if I was being one hell of a cheap, masochistic bastard bringing her here.

I may be far from rich but I could well afford a decent meal and to treat her properly, and bringing her here was
not
what I’d envisioned when I offered to take her to dinner.

I should have decided for us instead of giving in to her. Just looking at the front door of the place felt like bad déjà vu. “Are you sure this is where you want to eat?”

Al’s Tavern used to be one of my regular dinner stops; it had that Irish pub feel and great bar food, but it was
far
from fine dining. It also added a huge undercurrent of unwanted temptation that I so didn’t need right now, especially after dealing with Castoll this morning. I had thought of at least five other restaurants to take her to, but she had picked this place instead—quite enthusiastically I might add—and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t deny her.

Erin nodded. “I’m positive. You put the words
gravy fries
in my head days ago. I’ve been craving them. Please? Pretty please? We’re so close, I can practically taste them.”

I wanted to balk that French fries with gravy on top was on the opposite end of what I had in mind for our first nice dinner together, but she was giving me that beguiling innocent yet so damn provocative look, I caved.

Still, I wanted to show Erin some class and a bar pub was not on my list. I parked my truck and killed the ignition, thinking that this woman sitting next to me was my first real date since I broke things off with Nikki. We’d been together for so long, I wasn’t even sure I knew
how
to date someone.

I gazed over at Erin, noting her easy smile, the way she permeated my wall with effortless ease, knowing that this woman would be worthy of putting forth an effort. Just the way her eyes sparkled at me turned me inside out and flipped me on my ass. I felt uneasy, inept, and unsure, wanting—no—needing her to like me. Shit, I hadn’t felt like this in… hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been this nervous. I just hoped to hell none of that was showing on the outside.

She gathered her purse and reached for the door handle but I wasn’t going to allow that. I may have brought her here and let her get away with taking her expectations for a nice meal down a notch while I fumbled to manage this date, but that was as far as I was willing to bend.

This entire day had tested my patience, starting with that bogus traffic stop Stiles and Castoll pulled this morning. Bastards would have given her a sobriety test had I not driven by at just the right time. Castoll knew exactly who she was; I could tell by the smug look on his beady face when I stepped out of my truck that he was thoroughly enjoying messing with her.

And then that girl at the notary office trying to flirt with me with Erin standing right there? Unbelievable the way some of them behave with no shame. Hell if it didn’t make my ego swell a bit when Erin glared her down. But there was still plenty within my control and sensing her independent eagerness to let herself out my truck was something that would not happen on my watch. Kind of woman like her deserved to be treated like a lady.

“Hang tight a second,” I muttered, hoping she’d keep her lovely heart-shaped ass planted in the passenger seat without me having to repeat myself. She looked confused again as I spied her through the windshield, but I figured sooner or later she’d catch on to the way things are.

I held her hand, helping her climb out, watching those incredible legs and heeled boots unfurl to the ground. Some men love boobs, and as much as I loved to palm tit, I was a legs and ass man to the core. Visions of those luscious legs wrapped in some of my quarter inch red rope, trussed up like two candy canes and spread open for my pleasure made my dick twitch. I’d keep her tied up all damn day and fuck her when and how I wanted to then.
Patience, Trent.

“Thank you,” she said with a shy smile and it was easy to read that she was a bit uncomfortable with me, which made her all the more enticing.

We were ushered by a server I’d seen in here before to a booth in the back. Before Erin sat, I helped to remove her coat then nudged her gently, making sure I got the side facing the door. She arched a questioning brow when I stepped around her, then she narrowed those perplexed blue eyes as she slid farther into the booth.

“I never sit with my back to the door,” I muttered, trying to explain away her confusion.

“Phobia?” she asked casually, dropping her purse down next to her.

Maybe, more like vigilance
. “I don’t like surprises.”

She turned, checking the door once more. “What kind of surprises are you not expecting?”

“The robbery kind.”
Or the ex-lover kind
, but I kept that one to myself.

“Ah,” she said, understanding seeming to dawn until her eyes narrowed on me once more, inspecting my chest. “Are you…?” She started to point but quickly withdrew her hand and then leaned over the table, whispering, “Is that a gun under your coat?”

I had my personal Glock holstered under my left armpit since I had picked her up at her place. I guess she could see it now, now that I’d unzipped my leather. “Yes,” I acknowledged, wondering where she was going with this.

“Why?” She motioned, pointing at it again.

“I’m a cop?” I figured that should be self-explanatory.

She fidgeted. “Yeah, but you’re off duty.”

She had no reason to be worried. “So?”

“So?” She looked sort of stunned. “Isn’t it illegal to just carry a weapon into a bar?”

I tried to harness my slight annoyance at her naivety. “I’m a cop twenty-four/seven, Doc. I’m just off-duty. I never leave home without it.” That answer didn’t seem to be adequate for her, considering she was frowning at me. I had to ask. “Does it bother you?”

She traced her fingernail over some imaginary pattern in the wooden tabletop and then picked at the corner of the menu. “I’m not sure.”

I set my forearms on the table, glancing at my bandaged hand for a second, knowing how much danger surrounds each and every one of us every day, though most folks walked around impervious to it all. Still, she’d given me a half-assed noncommittal answer, probably treading lightly around me. I had to shut down her unease.

I captured the tip of her finger with mine, stopping her fidgeting, and her mind from drifting to a wrong conclusion. “I’ve been a cop for ten years. I’ve seen enough in that time to know that I will never be caught off guard or unprepared, especially around here.”

For reasons I could not explain, I needed her to know she could trust me, especially since I gave her plenty of reasons to be leery of me.

“You ever able to slip out of doctor mode?”

She brushed more of her fingers over mine, hesitantly at first.

“No, not really.” She smiled.

We were testing the waters, feeling the boundaries, and if the sensations coursing through me from just holding the tips of her fingers were any indication, I wanted to grab hold and pull her into the deep end with me. I had to constantly remind myself to keep it in check, even though my body was pushing forward. Rushing into another huge head fuck with someone was nothing I wanted to jump into lightly.
Been there, done that.

“I see your point and I understand your reasons, but I’ve also seen the destruction a bullet can cause to the human body and it’s not pretty. Too many people end up being innocent victims. We treat a lot of gunshot wounds at University. So much of it could be avoided. It’s senseless.”

I pulled more of her hand into mine, relishing the connection that I’d finally found a woman who understood. “People make bad decisions every day, but if it comes down to them or us, I choose us.”