Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set (18 page)

Surely, it can’t be the girl. What … ‘true love conquers all,’ and all that shit? Please. I roll my eyes at myself and continue to run the wash cloth over my body. That can’t be it. Samantha Colby is a beautiful, smart, sexy young woman. And yes, I do find her unusually bright green eyes magical. But she does not have the power to take away my nightmares just by sleeping with me. That shit doesn’t happen. Does it?
Of course not.

But, regardless of the nightmare situation – and the insanely good sex – I can’t honestly expect this to go anywhere. I mean, look around you, Pierce. This apartment is top of the line luxury and this girl can afford it. She drives a one hundred and sixty thousand dollar car, for crying out loud. I frown again.
So what? So do you.

I smirk to myself again as I realize that, with all the money and care I’ve put into restoring the Charger over the years, she’s now worth close to that. The supreme condition she’s in. All numbers matching. If I wanted to sell her, I could demand that much for her and get it easily. The thought makes me smile in spite of myself. And then I reel it in.
Yeah, okay. So your car is worth about as much as hers is. Big deal. She could still buy and sell you any day of the week if the mood struck her.

Maybe. But even though she’s got the cash in the bank, it just doesn’t seem to be that important to her. She doesn’t act like one of those self-entitled, self-important, too good for the little people types. In fact, she seemed genuine when she talked about helping others with her money.

I sigh as I wring out the wash cloth and rinse off. I reach for the bottle of shampoo sitting on the shelf and when I open it and squirt some into my hand, the shower is soon filled with the soft, fresh scent of citrus and it instantly brings to mind an image of Samantha sleeping soundly in my arms this morning. God, that felt good. And I wonder idly if that’s how Conner feels each morning, waking up with Lindy. Is that what he meant when he said I needed someone to wake up with?

“
Someone to wake up with in the morning and greet the day with. Someone who makes you happy.”

I mull over his words as I rinse the shampoo out of my hair. I don’t know about all that. I’m starting to think that maybe what I need is to have never met Miss Colby. Maybe what I need is to walk away. Fuck. Maybe I should just excuse myself from this case and walk away. Conner’s right. I am too involved with this victim. And he doesn’t even know the half of it. I stepped way over the line last night; what the fuck was I thinking? I snort.
You were thinking about her unbelievably green eyes. And her soft, full lips. And her silky, chestnut brown hair. And her tiny little waist and perfect tits and the curve of her ass … that’s what you were thinking about, Pierce!

I sigh and turn off the water in the shower. As I open the shower door and step out, I realize that I still haven’t sorted out a damn thing. I still don’t know what to say to her about last night. About what I told her. And I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Part of me wants to walk out of her door and never look back because that’s what I know how to do. One-night stands are easy. But there is another part of me that is screaming out for something else. For something … more. I have never wanted more before now. What is it about her? Why does this girl make me question the possibilities? And how can I tell her that I can’t get involved with her because I’m afraid that if I do, at some point in our relationship, I will physically hurt her? How do you tell a woman that and still expect her to look at you the same way? Last night she called me sweet and thoughtful. She would never think that about me if she knew what a fucking monster I am. What I’m capable of.

I dry off with the impossibly fluffy towel and then open the bathroom door. The minute I step out of the bathroom I am hit with the amazing aroma of coffee and bacon and my stomach begins to rumble, and I remember that we didn’t eat last night. We were much too busy to think about food. Fuck. I shake my head at the realization that I know what I have to do.

I dress quickly, pulling on my briefs and my jeans and stuffing my gun into the belt-clip holster at my back. I hurry into my socks and shoes and grab my shirt as I’m walking out of the bedroom. I am working on the buttons of my shirt when I stroll into the living room and hear Samantha say, “Oh, just in time.”

I look up and she takes my breath away. She’s standing at the breakfast bar, setting two plates of food down on the place mats. The food looks delicious. But nowhere near as delectable as she does in a soft mint green nightie that hits her at mid-thigh level and makes her look good enough to eat.
She is a fucking goddess.
I swallow reflexively.

“This looks … great,” I mumble distractedly. “You didn’t have to do this.”

She ignores my protest and continues, “Well, I made bacon and scrambled eggs but, then I realized that I don’t know if you like eggs so … I also made some pancakes.”

I take a seat on one of the stools and she sets a steaming cup of black coffee in front of me. “You did all this in the fifteen minutes it took me to get ready?” I say, pouring some syrup on my pancakes.

“Breakfast doesn’t take long,” she shrugs, taking a seat beside me. “I’m sorry, would you like some orange juice?”

I’m lost again, looking into her eyes. The green of her nightgown really makes them stand out. “No. Just coffee is fine, thanks.” My voice sounds hesitant to me and I know it’s because of the decision I made while I was getting dressed. She starts to eat her breakfast and I follow suit. We eat in silence for a few minutes and I’m grateful for the distraction. But the food is delicious and my plate of pancakes, bacon and eggs is soon clean. I take a few sips of my coffee and take a deep breath. But before I can open my mouth to say what I need to say, Samantha speaks.

“Josh, I really want to thank you again for last night.” Her words halt me in my tracks, as does the pale rose color that creeps over her lovely face. “I … I mean for coming to wait for me in the museum parking lot. Not for … what happened later,” her voice trails off nervously and her magic green eyes sparkle with embarrassment.
Shit! She is so pretty.
“Not that I didn’t appreciate what happened later, because I did! I just meant … um. I’m … just going to stop talking now.”

I can’t help the slow smile that spreads over my face. She is just so … cute. And despite everything I told myself in the shower and the decision I made as I was getting dressed, I hear myself saying the exact opposite of what I had intended to say.

“Listen, Sam,” I begin hesitantly, “everything I said last night. About not dating and only having one-night stands…”

“Yes.” She fixes me with those big green eyes and I’m not sure what she’s thinking. But she’s giving me her full attention and I am suddenly very nervous.

“That was all true,” I tell her honestly. “And I don’t know how to do anything else. That’s all I’ve ever done. I don’t know anything about being in a relationship. I don’t know anything about … dating.” My heart is pounding in my chest like it’s trying to escape and I try to ignore it as I go on. “But I really want to see you again.” I pause for a moment for a reaction from her, but there is none. So I ramble on. “I mean, I know that I’ll see you until this investigation is over but … I’m talking … outside of this case.” She still says nothing and I am sitting here with my heart in my throat. I go for broke. “Can I see you again?”

She is silent for a moment and she seems to study my eyes. And then her face erupts into a huge grin. “Yes,” she answers softly.

I respond with a grin of my own, feeling a mixture of foolishness, relief and terror. What the hell have I just done? I shake my head in disbelief at my own actions.
What the hell are you doing, Pierce?
“Okay,” I say a little bashfully. “After work, maybe? I could stop by after my shift ends at six.”

“Okay,” she smiles shyly. “I’ll make us dinner.”

“You keep cooking for me,” I smile at her.

She shrugs and smiles. “I enjoy cooking. Something about it is very artistic, I think. Besides, it’s more fun cooking for someone.”

I get lost in those eyes for a moment and then remember that I’ve got a job to get to. I glance at my watch. “I have to go,” I say reluctantly, standing up to leave. “I have to stop by home and change and brush my teeth before I go to the station. I’m sorry to eat and run, Samantha.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” she says, standing. I take her hand as we turn and walk through the living room to the door, and I wonder if she is as nervous right now as I am. We reach the door and I look down at her. She’s chewing on her bottom lip nervously and she looks sexy as hell in that little green nightie.

“You know, if you wanted to serve dinner in this tonight, I wouldn’t object,” I say softly as I run my index finger down the front of the nightgown and she blushes crimson and looks away. Her reaction makes me smile and I take her chin in my fingers and raise her lips to mine, kissing her chastely. “I’ll see you tonight.”

She nods, still having a hard time looking me in the eye. “Bye, Josh.” I open the door to go, but before I do, I tap on the lock and give her a stern look. She nods again and I close the door behind me. I stand there for a few seconds until I hear the click of the lock. Then I smile to myself and head for the elevator.

*****

I ran home just long enough to brush my teeth and change into a clean shirt and jeans. And as I jump back into my truck and head to the station, my thoughts are filled with all things Samantha Colby: her eyes, her smile, the scent of her hair, the softness of her skin, the feel of her body moving beneath mine. And the way she felt in my arms this morning. That was incredible!

I had planned to tell her that this can’t continue. I was going to say that I had compromised both her case and my job. I was going to apologize for taking advantage of her trust in me. How the hell I ended up asking if I could see her again, I have no idea. My resolve was set, I knew what I had to do, what I needed to say. But then she started to thank me again for escorting her home and, I don’t know what happened. As usual when I’m around her, I just lost all good sense! But the way she looked at me … those big green eyes of hers, so trusting and sweet. It was all I could do not to take her into my arms again right there in the kitchen. I think I’d give just about anything to have her look at me like that forever.

What the hell is this? I feel like I am losing my edge. Like I’m … going soft or something.
Maybe you’re in love, Pierce.
Bullshit! I don’t fall in love. And, even if I did, I just met this girl. Things like that don’t happen this fast, do they? Hell, I have no freaking clue. All I know is, this woman has me tense and anxious and thinking about things that I have never thought about before. And why can’t I get those damned green eyes out of my head?

I park my truck in the back lot of the PD and stride into the station. As I walk through the corridors of the building I become aware of a few strange glances and raised eyebrows at my expense and I wonder what everyone’s problem is but, I’m too preoccupied with memories of being with Sam to concern myself with it. I enter the detective’s bull pen and head for my desk, and again, out of the corners of my eyes, I notice that I’m getting some stares. As I pull out my chair and get ready to sit down, I glance around at the bemused faces.

“What!?” My voice is a mixture of irritation and consternation. And at my question, most of the guys just chuckle or shake their heads and go back to whatever they were doing. Someone slaps my left shoulder and I whip around to see Lee Parson standing at my side.

“You feeling okay, son?” He has a mock concerned look on his face but his voice tells me he’s slightly amused.

“I’m fine,” I frown at him.

“Yeah,” he smiles at me. “Is she as fine as you are this morning?” He chuckles and walks away, leaving me standing by my desk completely dumbfounded. What the hell is he talking about? I sit and glance over at Conner, who’s smirking at me.

“What the heck is everybody’s problem today?” I ask cautiously.

He shrugs. “You can’t blame us for being confused, Guy,” he says. “It’s not really like you to come in here whistling.”

Whistling?
“I don’t whistle,” I say gruffly.

“Oh? Well, what would you call it?” he smiles, looking at me as if I’m from Mars.
Was I really whistling? Fuck. This girl is turning me into a pussy.
“All right, so let’s have it,” he continues. “What did she look like, what bar did you pick her up at, and what sleazy place did you nail her in?”

I shake my head with a small fading grin. “I didn’t pick up a girl in a bar, Conner.”

“No? Where did you pick her up?” he asks turning his attention to the report on his desk. I say nothing and just shake my head again, ignoring him and turning to my own work. After a long couple of minutes, he looks up at me. “Guy?”

Still mute, I look up at him as if I’ve got no clue what he’s talking about.

“Clamming up on me?” he asks. “You usually give me all the gory details, so … let’s hear it.”

He’s looking at me very expectantly and for some reason I really don’t understand, I
want
to tell him what’s going on. Not the usual slightly embellished, anecdotes I feed him about my random, sexual exploits but, what’s really going on. With Samantha. I want to tell him how twisted up I feel and ask him if it’s normal. But at the same time, I don’t want him to know how far things have gone with her. Not that I think he would rat me out to the brass. I know that Conner wouldn’t do that. He and I have been partners for over four years, ever since I became a detective, and I know that he always has my back in any situation. But I don’t want him to worry about me possibly compromising this case. I don’t want to put him in that position. Plus, I know his response would be to try and fix me up with someone suitable. Someone who’s not involved in a case we’re working. And I can’t say that I blame him. He’d be right to try and steer me away from pending disaster.

But is that really what I think about this thing with Samantha? Pending disaster? Am I setting us both up for a potentially huge catastrophe here? I don’t know; maybe I am. Or maybe I’m just trying my best to talk myself out of wanting more. Maybe I’m scared shitless at the thought of wanting more. Of actually reaching out for it. Of even admitting to myself that I’m interested in more.