Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set (21 page)

I get comfortable on the couch and begin to draw absentmindedly. A pair of intense, piercing eyes soon begin forming beneath my pencil. As I work, my thoughts are full of Joshua. His eyes, his lips, his touchable wavy hair. The stubble on his face, the way it frames his perfect mouth. His strong jaw and his Adam’s apple. The curve of his neck. In no time at all, I have picture after picture of him. Some are just random sketches of parts – his eyes or his lips. But some are full drawings of his face – him smiling, him with a serious, intense stare, his profile. Before I know it an entire hour has passed and I look up at the clock with a gasp. I have to get moving. He’ll be here in less than two hours!

Discarding my sketchbook, I jump up and run to the shower. I tie my hair up so that I don’t have to blow it dry and dash in and out in two minutes flat. I hate to rush. I had all the time in the world to get ready in until I made the mistake of drawing him.
You should have known better.
My subconscious rolls her eyes at me and I ignore her. But she’s right, I should have known better.

I dress quickly, putting on the slip dress and a pair of nude, strappy Manolo Blahnik’s. I stand back and look myself over in the full length mirror. The dress hits me just above the mid-thigh range and the shoes are quite high. Meg is right. My legs do look awesome in this short dress and heels. I hope Josh likes it, I muse as I begin to brush my hair. I wash my face and brush my teeth, and then put on some mascara and a little lip gloss.

I finish getting ready and dash out to the kitchen. Pulling an apron on over my dress, I start to make dinner. Luckily, none of the dishes I’m making have a long preparation time. The longest will be the brussel sprouts, so I get to work on those first. As I work, I think about Joshua and I realize that I’m still singing that song to myself. It’s been in my head for two days now! I get the brussel sprouts into the oven to roast and I turn and go into the living room over to where my iPod docking station sits. Scrolling through my music, I choose one of my favorite bands – The Faders – find the song in question and hit play, putting it on repeat.

I wander back into the kitchen as the music starts and get back to my dinner prep. I decide to set two places at the breakfast bar instead of setting the table. I want this evening to be relaxed and fun, and setting a formal table just seems like too much pressure somehow. I’m hoping to get Josh talking tonight; I’d like to learn more about him and that whole ‘no dating, one-night stand’ thing, but I get the feeling that he doesn’t like to talk about himself much, and I wonder why.

I move easily around my kitchen as I ponder Josh. love my kitchen. It’s so much fun to work in. The appliances are all top of the line and it makes cooking really enjoyable. As I take two plates out of the cupboard and place them into the warmer, I glance over at the clock. 6:20 pm. Josh should be here any moment. I wash and dry my hands and pull off the apron I’m wearing. Rushing back into the bedroom for a quick second, I check my appearance once more and I feel the slight flutter of butterflies in my belly. I really am nervous about this dress. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn it. I briefly contemplate making a quick change just as the doorbell rings.
Too late now.
My subconscious smirks at me, and mentally, I imagine smacking her down. Who’s side is she on anyway? I rush back into the living room and over to the iPod, making a quick switch in playlists and adjusting the volume before heading to the door. I give a look out of the peep hole and my heart somersaults into my stomach.

When I open the door, he stands there smiling at me and I just want to eat his dimples. He is so adorable and I know that my answering smile is just as wide. I seem to have lost the power of speech at the moment but I open the door wider and he steps in. When I close the door and turn to face him, I see that he is looking me over with a frank appreciation and I instantly feel self-conscious about the dress again. I blush. “Hi,” I finally mutter.

“Hi,” he answers, his brilliant blue eyes meeting mine.

I notice a single rose in his hand and I smile at him. “That’s a beautiful rose,” I say softly.

He looks at the flower in his hand as if he had forgotten about it. Then he nods his agreement. “Yeah, it is,” he responds. His deep voice sounds hesitant. As if he’s nervous. “It pales next to you though,” he says softly, offering the rose to me. I melt at his words as I accept the rose and bring it to my nose, inhaling its subtle scent. It really is lovely.

“Thank you,” I whisper, and I can feel myself blushing again. He steps toward me and his hand reaches out and caresses my face. The touch instantly sets my skin on fire and I lean my face slightly into his caress. His fingers trail down to my chin and gently lift my face to his as he leans down and kisses me sweetly. Then his eyes study mine for a long moment, and he kisses me again. Purposefully this time, his tongue slowly stroking mine and I moan softly, pulling away nervously. We’ll never get to dinner if this continues. “Um, are you hungry, because dinner is ready,” I say lightly as I step towards the kitchen.

“Whatever it is, it smells wonderful,” he says after a small pause. I find a small, glass bud vase in the cupboard and fill it with water. I can feel Josh’s eyes on me, traveling over my body and, although it makes me self-conscious, it also makes me feel sexy. I place the rose in the vase and set it on the counter. Then I turn to him and he is eyeing me intently.

I motion him to a stool as I say, “I hope you’re a meat and potatoes kind of guy because I’ve made you a steak.”

“Steak,” he says as he moves over to the breakfast bar, removing his jacket. His voice sounds surprised and he’s smiling. “Steak sounds great.” I set two ice-cold Coronas with lime on the counter and watch as he removes his shoulder holster and gun. Then I go about plating up our meal. The steaks are broiled to perfection and I’ve paired them with a baked potato and roasted brussel sprouts with pancetta. I carry the plates over to the breakfast bar and set them down. As I take my seat beside him I notice that he is eyeing his plate of food with raised eyebrows. I think he’s impressed and I smile to myself. I watch with bated breath as he takes up his knife and fork and slices into his steak. He pauses slightly and I get nervous.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I begin in a rush, “I should have asked. Is medium okay? I can throw it back into the fire if it’s too pink.”

He looks at me in surprise. “No, baby, this looks perfect,” he says turning back to his steak.

Baby? The term of endearment makes me smile. He used it a couple of times last night but, that was in the heat of passion, not during normal conversation. I don’t know why it makes me feel good, but it does. I continue to watch as he lifts the fork to his mouth and takes a bite. He closes his eyes for a second as he chews, and a slow smile spreads across his face. He swallows his mouthful and looks at me with raised eyebrows.

“This is a damn fine steak, Miss Colby,” he says with a smile. “You are quite a cook.”

I blossom under his praise and I can feel myself smiling from ear to ear. I turn to my own plate then and we eat in silence for a few moments. As we do, my eyes wander over him. He’s dressed in his usual dark blue jeans with a black dress shirt and he looks yummy. I smile to myself as I glance over at the rose sitting on the counter. It’s such an unusual color; it really is pretty. “The rose is very lovely,” I say as I take a sip of my beer. “I’ve never seen such an unusual color; I love it. Thank you.”

He smiles at me. “The clerk said it’s called an Esperance rose,” he replies. “She said it’s French for…”

“Hope,” I say softly, cutting him off. He blinks at me, surprised I think.

“You speak French?” he asks softly.

I nod shyly. “Some,” I shrug. “I’m not exactly fluent but, I know enough to get by on vacation. I spent a semester in Paris as part of the art program at UDub.”

“Really?” His voice is low and unreadable. I can’t tell what he’s thinking and I feel self-conscious. “That must have been something,” he says quietly, turning back to his food. He seems nervous suddenly. Uneasy. And it makes me frown. I need to change the subject.

“So, how was your day, Josh?” I ask, smiling at him sweetly. I really do want him to relax and open up a little. I want to learn all about him. “Did you catch any bad guys today?”

He gives me that heart-stoppingly perfect smile of his and I forget to breathe for a second.
Wow.
“Well, as a matter of fact, Samantha, I did. Found the two guys responsible for a fatal home invasion case we’ve been working for over a month.” He sounds very proud of himself and he’s still smiling at me. He is so gorgeous!

“Wow,” I say softly, still lost in that smile. “Congratulations. Is that the right thing to say?” I ask with a small smile.

“You can say congratulations,” he chuckles at me and I can’t help giggling. And then something extraordinary happens. My very girlish giggling seems to affect his funny bone and his chuckle morphs into full blown laughter. Maybe it’s just nature’s way of breaking the ice between us, I don’t know. But whatever it is, I am grateful for it. His laughter is deep and hearty and it makes me laugh with him. Soon, we are both practically doubled over in stitches and I’m not even sure just what we’re laughing at but, it feels really good. As our laughter slowly subsides, the atmosphere in the room is much calmer than it was before and I get the sense that we are both a lot less anxious now.

“Can you tell me about your case?” I ask, taking a bite of baked potato.

He sets his bottle of beer down and glances at me with a slight frown. “I could but, you don’t want to hear about it,” he says, his voice low and hesitant as his expression grows serious.

“Sure, I do,” I encourage him.

He shakes his head slightly and looks me in the eye. “No, Samantha, you don’t. It was a very brutal case.” He turns his attention back to his plate and spears a brussel sprout with his fork, popping it into his mouth.

“Brutal in what way?” I ask. I know that curiosity killed the cat but, his cryptic statement spurs me on. I can’t help myself.

He fixes me with his intense blue eyes as he swallows his mouthful and says nothing for a beat. Then he sighs and says quietly, “The case involved mutilation and rape. Of a mother and a small child. Not exactly light dinner conversation. Trust me, you don’t want the details in your head.” He turns back to his steak.

Oh. Really sorry I asked. “I’m sorry, Josh,” I say quietly.
Way to put your foot in your mouth, Sam.
I want to get him talking, not make him clam up. “But you caught them. That’s the important thing,” I say, trying to recover our brief relaxed period and he nods at me. “How was the rest of your day?”

He smiles slightly. “My day was routine, Samantha. How was yours?” he asks. Once again, I can sense that he really doesn’t want to talk about himself. So I begin to chatter away about my day in the hope that it will loosen him up to talk about his own. I ramble on about studying the reading material for my new job and about my morning at the spa with Megan and her wedding menu frustrations. He surprises me then by asking me questions.

“You and Megan … you seem close,” he says. And it’s more of a question than a statement.

“Yes, we are,” I answer. “We’re so close in age we did just about everything together growing up. Honestly, she’s more like my sister than my cousin.”

“That’s nice,” he says, looking me in the eye. “You and your brother seemed close as well.”

“We are,” I confirm with a smile. “Lucas huffs and puffs a lot about what a pain I am, in typical big brother fashion. In fact, that’s his nickname for me: Pita.”

“Oh really,” Josh smiles. “Pain In The Ass, huh?”

“You got it,” I answer, and he laughs. “But he’s actually the best brother in the world. He’s very protective of me and he’s always there for me when I need him. Of course, if you ever tell him I said he was the best brother in the world, I will have to kill you,” I say narrowing my eyes at him.

He laughs at my attempt to sound threatening and nods his agreement to silence. “That’s really nice,” he repeats after a small pause. “I always wished I’d had a brother or sister.”

“You’re an only child?” I ask lightly.
Yes!
Finally some personal information.

He takes a deep breath and nods, letting it out slowly. “Yep.”

“Did you grow up here in Seattle?” I ask, trying to keep him on a roll.

“I did,” he answers. “You?”

Damn. Back to me. “Yes, I did. Although my family has a home on Martha’s Vineyard and Mom and Aunt Jenny and my grandma would take all of us kids there for the summers while Dad and Uncle Ken and grandad would usually fly back and forth all summer long because they were so busy working.” He’s silent as he nods again, his eyebrows raised slightly, and I get the sense he’s feeling uneasy again. Is it something that I’ve said? “Um, what about cousins?” I ask him, and my voice sounds a little bit nervous. “Did you have any cousins to hang out with when you were younger?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I’ve got a couple of cousins but … they were a little older than me. We were never very close growing up.” His voice is low and full of some unnamed emotion, and I wonder idly what that’s all about. But I don’t dwell on it because I am quickly losing him. I need to regain the lighthearted, relaxed feel we had just moments ago. I grasp for something easy.

“So, what do you do for fun, Detective Josh?” I ask, smiling at him as I sip my beer.

He turns that megawatt smile on me again. “Detective Josh?” He’s laughing at me and I giggle. Oh, this is much better. His smile just does things to me that I can’t explain; he is so incredibly handsome. “Hmm, fun,” he says with a wistful smile. “I’m not even sure I remember what that word means. Seems like all I’ve been doing lately is working.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that for a minute, Detective Josh,” I say coyly. I think the beer is beginning to go to my head; I am such a lightweight.

“And why is that?” He looks at me with a puzzled frown.

“Well, because … how’s that saying go?” Oh, yeah. I am definitely starting to feel the light buzz. “All work and no play makes Detective Josh a very dull boy. And I don’t believe there’s anything dull about you,” I say looking into his impossibly blue eyes.