Rev (Jack 'Em Up #4) (10 page)

Her face paled.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

She shook her head and glanced down at her lap. “No. I appreciate it.”

“I don’t want your appreciation. I want you to be okay.”

Now she did face me. “I am okay.”

“No, you’re not.”

She straightened in her seat. “What? Of course I—”

“Don’t lie to me, Jewel. You can lie to yourself and everyone else around you, but not me. I live with too much pain to not see it in someone else.” I gripped her hand. Now that the words had started, they were erupting like a geyser. “I don’t know who hurt you or what you’re afraid of, but I’ll do anything in my power to protect you.”

Tears filled her eyes. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Where is all this coming from?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. I just know it’s the truth. It’s how I feel and I’m not sure what to do with it myself since I haven’t felt anything in so long.”

“But . . .” Her face was illuminated by the moonlight when she turned away. “Why me?”

“Why not you?”

The tears were gone when she peered at me again, but she looked about ready to crumble. “Things like this don’t happen to girls like me.”

“What do you mean ‘girls like you?’”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Look at me, Micah.”

“I am.” What I saw was fucking stunning. A miracle. How could she not see that?

She huffed out a breath and shook her head as she reached for the door handle.

“Wait.” I popped open my door, fueled on instinct. “Don’t. Move.”

I rounded the hood and yanked open her door, letting the moonlight bathe her entire body as she spun to face me.

I did not think.

I did not rationalize.

I did not fight it.

I simply obeyed my body as I threaded my fingers through her hair and drew her lips to mine. Her surprised breath tasted sweet on my tongue. I kissed her like my life depended on it. Maybe it did. She moaned and held on to my shoulders in a death grip.

I felt the moment she relaxed and her body melted. I collected her hair into my fist and placed an open-mouthed kiss to the exposed skin near her shoulder. Her shallow breathing was hot in my ear and I delved in for another taste of her mouth. This time, she moved with me, tasting me as well. Our tongues slid along each other in a sensual dance. She strained to get closer.

After one last gut-wrenching kiss, I drew away and dropped my forehead to hers. “That. That’s why you.”

Jewel

M
icah’s taste clung to my lips long after I’d waved goodbye and closed myself into my empty apartment. I found a note from my brother on the dining room table.

I’ll be late. Don’t wait up.

Knuckle-noogies,

J.

I rolled my eyes and headed to the shower. Glad for the privacy, I rehashed every second of my night and Micah’s kiss as I bathed.

That’s why you.

What did that mean? Could he possibly feel for me a fraction of what I did for him? It seemed impossible, yet a tiny part of me clung to hope. Could Nolan have been wrong? Was I wrong about myself?

I peered down at my wet body and all its roundness and curves and imperfections. My body had always been something I dreamed of changing, never embracing. Even still, after all the counseling and comfort of friends and family, I still had a hard time finding my own worth.

But I was starting to get it back.

I touched my stomach. It wasn’t flat. It had never held a child. It also didn’t define me.

I turned my face to the cascading water and fought to see in myself what Micah said he did. Could he be lying? Trying to make me feel better? Why would he do that?

His kiss certainly didn’t feel like a lie.

I cut off the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. After slipping on my nightgown, I slid into bed and grabbed my phone. One new text was waiting.

Forgot to ask what you’re doing tomorrow . . . do u need ur truck?

I blinked
. Working half a day

On a Saturday?

Yes

OK. I will pick u up in the morning for work. What time?

I stared at Micah’s words, my heart stumbling. There was nothing especially sweet or gentle about his message, but it still touched me. He was showing he cared in his own way.

Could I believe in him?

8 will work . . . thx

OK see u in the morning
. A long moment then,
Goodnight.

I texted him back a goodnight then rolled over to stare out my window and try to sleep.

I woke with a start to someone pounding on my door. I squinted against the sunlight slanting into my room and checked the clock. 8:08.

Shit.

I leapt out of bed and ran to the door, bypassing my brother who was out cold on the couch.

Micah’s eyes were wide and frantic, his fist raised to bang again. He slowly lowered his hand as he took me in.

I glanced down at my thin cotton gown and bare feet as I ran a hand through the bird’s nest that was surely my hair. “I’m sorry. I overslept.”

He nodded, his shoulders relaxing, a half-smile tilting up his mouth.

I swung the door all the way open. “Come on in. It’ll just take me a couple minutes to throw on some clothes.”

I spun away and heard the door click behind him. His presence in my apartment suddenly felt very intimate, even with my sleeping brother. I shut myself into my room and heaved a breath. Glancing at my bed, I realized I’d been dreaming of him. Hot, perfect dreams of slick skin sliding along slick skin, writhing, moans.

I groaned and yanked off my nightie, threw on the first pair of clean jeans I found and a navy blue Baybridge PD polo. I ran a brush through my hair and scooped it into a ponytail as I slid my feet into my Nikes. I gargled some mouthwash, grabbed my purse, and met Micah back in my living room in four minutes flat. “Okay. Ready. Sorry about that.”

He glanced at the couch. “Your brother?”

“Yup. I’d introduce you, but he sleeps like a comatose person. No rousing him til he’s good and ready.”

He nodded his understanding. “You sure you don’t need to do anything else? Breakfast?”

I shook my head and moved to the door. “I’m fine.” I’d die before letting him see the Pop-Tarts or sugary cereal I would’ve eaten.

Without a word, he led me out to his Jeep and we headed out. A couple blocks from the station, he pulled into a crowded fast food restaurant drive-thru.

“What’re you doing?”

He didn’t face me. “You’ve got to eat.”

I was temporarily shocked into silence. No man had ever looked out for me other than my dad and brothers, and I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I studied his hard features. His high cheekbones. That aristocratic nose. Those sculpted lips that could bring me to my knees.

He drove forward when it was our turn to order then glanced at me, his dark eyes hidden behind his aviators. “Eggs and sausage okay, or would you rather have a breakfast sandwich?”

“Eggs are fine. But only if you eat with me.”

The disembodied voice on the speaker crackled between us. He shifted back and ordered two breakfast platters then faced me again. “Milk or orange juice?”

“Juice is fine.”

He added two juices to the order and we inched forward.

“Thank you.”

He tipped his head. “No big deal.”

It was to me, but I couldn’t find the words to voice that. Instead, I made a point to eat all my food and try to coax him into conversation as we sat idling in the parking lot of the station.

“What time are you meeting your friend today?” I asked.

“I’m waiting for him to call me when he gets into town.”

I asked him about their time together in the military, but he shut down like I’d unplugged him. I changed tactics.

“We’ve made some adjustments to the sketch of the rapist.”

His head snapped around. “What does that mean?”

I shrugged and toyed with the straw in my juice. “The last victim got the best look at him and her version was a little different than the other girls. We brought some of them back in and we revisited what they might’ve missed initially.”

“Is it the same guy?”

“Yes. It was just some minor differences in the set of his eyes. His hair.” I stifled the shiver that wanted to race through my body every time I thought of that face and how it echoed my most painful memories.

He acknowledged my words, but his body had become tense, his jaw tight. I opened my door. “Well, I should get to work. Thanks for the ride. And breakfast. And helping with my truck,” I added with a smile. “Guess I owe you big time.”

He loosened up a tad and waved me off. “You don’t owe me a thing. Have a good day. I’ll let you know about the truck as soon as I figure something out.”

I nodded and watched him drive away. I peered around the half-full lot as a strange sensation crawled over me like a cold fog. There was not a soul in sight, but I still felt eyes on me. Watching me.

Cursing my overactive imagination, I went inside the station and got to work.

It was quiet since it was the weekend, but a few officers and staff still milled about, their conversation humming pleasantly. Several phone calls and a meeting with a robbery victim kept me busy the rest of the morning, giving me hardly any time to think of Micah.

Of his kiss.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said to the caller on the tip line. “I’m sure your cat does have a good sense of smell—” I glanced up and waved as Officer Varga passed me on his way out the door. I listened to the elderly woman another moment then decided to give up. No point in arguing that cats can’t sniff out perpetrators. “Well, thank you. I will make a note of this and pass it along to the detectives.”

That seemed to appease her and she finally hung up. In a spare moment, I checked my email and found one from the college. A thrill raced up my spine along with a healthy dose of fear as I contemplated this new venture. It would be the first time I’d done something simply for myself since leaving Nolan. The thought was exhilarating. I wanted it so bad.

I made notes of the supply and book list and start date for the online class. I was still grinning when my cell buzzed with a text.

Your truck is done. New starter and refilled fluids. Key in glovebox . . . figured its safe in police station parking lot.

I leapt up and raced to the front windows. Sure enough, there was my truck. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought he washed it, too. My heart melted at his thoughtfulness.

Thank you so much
, I typed back.
How much do I owe you?

Somehow, I knew what he’d say before he replied.
Nothing.

I rolled my eyes and plopped back into my chair.
Knock it off, Micah. I know starters aren’t free . . . how much?

Nothing for several minutes. I didn’t think he was going to answer. Then, my phone buzzed with a reply. I snatched it up, read his response. Froze. Reread.

Dinner?

My stomach tied itself up into about a hundred tiny knots. He was asking me out?

A date?
I managed with trembling fingers.

A date
, he confirmed.

Holyshit Holyshit Holyshit. I peeked up as if searching for someone to verify I wasn’t dreaming. How could this possibly be?

Is that a no?

I realized I’d waited too long to answer, and with my fingers on fire, I typed back a quick
NO!

Shit.

I meant no, it’s not a no
, I added, feeling like an idiot.
It’s a yes.

Nothing.

YES! : )
I added to be sure he understood my gibberish.

I thought I would throw up the longer it took him to reply. I was making great leaps in overcoming my sordid past, but it killed me that maybe I’d blown it so soon.