The Law of Desire (8 page)

A
fter tossing and turning the entire night, waking up to the smell of coffee perking and breakfast cooking put more pep in Lawrence’s step then he could have garnered otherwise. He walked into the kitchen and found Minerva hard at work. The hickory sweet aroma of bacon wafted past his nose as he poured a cup of coffee.

She flipped the pancakes on the griddle and hummed as she cooked.

He blinked. Her springy curls were cascading around her face in a soft, seductive frame. She had on a pair of sexy, form-fitting jeans and a scoop-neck red tunic that brought out the wonderful undertones in her skin and made her appear even more perky and dynamic. The jeans caressed her bottom snuggly, the way he wanted his hands to. She wore red socks on her feet and nothing else. He wondered what her toes looked like.

The sun shined brightly through the windows and seemed to pop off the yellow-and-white gingham wall-paper on the walls. Everything looked perfect as far as his eyes could see. He tried to figure out if the normally homey kitchen felt even more so because of her presence.

He shook his head and pushed away the thought before he could answer it. He knew he wasn’t ready for the answer.

“I hope you like cinnamon-apple pancakes.”

“We had pancake mix?”

She tilted her head sideways. “No…but you had all the ingredients I needed to make a batter.”

“From scratch?” Not many women—hell not many people—these days made anything from scratch. His rubbed his chin as he tried to figure out the woman standing in front of him.

She rolled her eyes and took the pancakes off the griddle. “I should have eaten my food last night. I’m starving.”

“Me, too.” He grabbed the plates and silverware.

They fixed their plates and sat down to eat. As he ate her delicious food yet again, he marveled that Minerva Jones was going to have him eating his words, at least when it came to her cooking.

“This is good!” He couldn’t hold back the praise. It was still bubbling over from last night’s meal. “Listen, I’m sorry, I was tripping last night. You are no joke in the kitchen, baby. I was just playing around when I said that stuff about you being a one-dish girl. And we both know that, as pretty as you are, you don’t have to resort to trickery or anything like that to nab a man.”

Yes, he was laying it on thick. But anyone who knew him knew he loved a well-cooked, homemade meal. He wanted to see what else she could do in the kitchen, and he also needed to get back on her good side. How could he get what he desired if she continued to think he was a jerk?

A perplexed expression crossed her face for a moment and then she frowned. Twisting up her lips, she smirked. “Uh-uh…no need to try and gas me up. You’re still taking over your fair share of the cooking.”

“But we’re onto something good here. Something beautiful…where you cook these delightful meals and I eat them and tell you how wonderful you are. Win-win.”

“Nah. That’s okay. I’ll pass. We can take turns.” She grinned at him and he felt like he’d been gut-punched again.

“So what do you want to do today?”

“I don’t know. Is there a lot to do here?”

“Well, the ski season hasn’t started yet, so not really. But we can take a walk later. Enjoy nature. Take in the scenery. I don’t want to venture off too far and I’d like to stay away from public places, just in case the folks who’re after you show up.”

“You think they’ll show up here?”

“No. They shouldn’t. I didn’t see anyone following us. We should be cool. But there’s no need to tempt fate. So it’s just you and me for a few days, Minerva. You think you can handle that?” He smiled at her and tried not to think about the fact he’d been doing a lot of that lately. He was surprised his mouth hadn’t gone into shock.

“Sure I can. Can you?” She tilted her head in a daring manner and he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss that smirking mouth.

“Oh, I can handle it, sweetheart. I can handle it just fine.” He kept his eyes pinned on her and she held his stare.

She swallowed and blinked before turning away. “Should we clean up the kitchen?”

“I’ll get it since you cooked. That’s another benefit of cooking, sweetheart. I’ll handle the cleanup so you won’t have to get any dish detergent on those soft pretty hands of yours…”

She busted out laughing. “You’re reaching now, Lawrence.”

He chuckled. “Hey, I have to try. My stomach and taste buds are cussing me out because of my big mouth. Please cook for me again, pretty baby, please.”

She leaned over and cracked up. When she sat back up after busting a gut, she had laugh tears in her eyes. She stood. “Wow, you are funny, Detective. I had no idea you were this funny. Thanks for the laugh. I’m going to get one of the books in the den to read. I can’t wait to go for a walk with you later, Lawrence.” She smiled softly before leaving him.

He tried not to read too much into her sweet glance. But how could he not? He wanted her and he wanted her to want him, too.

She’d tried extremely hard to just lose herself in the Toni Morrison novel she had gotten from the bookshelf in the den. She usually loved Morrison’s work. She’d taken a contemporary black authors class a few semesters back and had read
Beloved
and
Sula
. Both had been rigorous reads, but well worth the struggle. She was pleased to see the full Morrison collection among the books on the shelf.

She loved to read and tried to concentrate but she kept seeing Lawrence’s smiling face and sparkling eyes. She would have never thought those dark and dangerous eyes could shimmer and shine so much. He seemed like an entirely different person, one she wanted desperately to get to know, among other things…

When he came to get her for their walk, she was more than ready and more than a little anxious. They walked in silence for several minutes and she just took in the breathtaking sights. She had never seen so many trees.

Some of the leaves had started falling and brown leaves covered the ground. The trail they followed got steeper and she realized they were walking uphill. They didn’t call it the Pocono Mountains for nothing. She was glad she’d had the foresight to purchase a pair of sensible shoes while they were at the outlet mall. Those stiletto-heeled boot-shoes she’d been wearing while she lived with the McKnights wouldn’t have made it.

“So what did you say you are you planning on doing with your degree in sociology?” His rich melodious voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“I hope to go to graduate school and get my MSW. I want to work with at-risk youth and hopefully run a youth center one day. I’d love to be able to make sure that fewer kids got involved with gangs and drugs, help them see other options.”

“That can be kinda dangerous work, Minerva.”

“Not as dangerous as your job.”

“Yes, but I’m a—”

“You’re a what?
A man?
I know—”

“Hold on a minute little womanist
slash
hip-hop feminist. I was going to say, I’m a cop. I’m trained to work in these environments, to clean up the streets.”

“And as a social worker, I’d be trained to work with people to make sure the streets get a little less dirty from the get-go. Someone has to make sure that the young people have other options and don’t end up filling the jail cells.”

“Yes…but does it have to be you?”

What did he mean by that?

She stopped in her tracks and put her hands on her hips.

He walked a couple of paces before stopping. “What happened? Are you okay? Are you tired? You wanna head back to the house?”

She could feel the heat of anger rising from her neck and coming out of her ears. She tried to tell herself to calm down. It didn’t work.

“What is your problem? You don’t think I’m good enough to work with kids?”

“What are you talking about?”

“‘Does it have to be you?’” She mimicked his judgmental voice.

He tilted his head and scrunched up his brow. Taking two steps toward her, he pulled her to him when he reached her. She hadn’t been expecting it.

She fell into his arms with very little resistance. He wrapped his arms around her and she let out a soft hiss of breath. He used one of his hands to lift her chin and peered in her eyes.

Lawd in heaven, mercy mercy me…

“I asked does it have to be you because for some reason the idea of you in danger doesn’t sit well with me. From the first moment I laid eyes on you hanging with the McKnights, I have been trying in my own…way…to remove you from danger…” He had this intense expression on his face, this perplexed look in his eyes like he was trying his best to figure something out.

“Oh…” was the only thing she could think of to say.

“Yeah…oh…” He smiled before his mouth swooped down and covered hers.

Hot. Searing. Passion.

She opened her mouth and an explosion of sensation and desire knocked down any resistance she might have had. She’d never tasted anything as delicious as Lawrence’s lips, his tongue. The man’s mouth relentlessly plundered hers, sucking, licking, nipping and devouring. It was all she could do to try to keep up and give as good as she got.

And she got a lot.

Her body tingled. Waves and ripples of pleasure traveled from her mouth to her core. He picked her up and walked toward a soft spot on the ground under a tree where the fallen leaves had made a nice cushion. He placed her down and followed, pinning her between the earth and himself, all the while continuing his raid of her mouth.

His tongue twirled and teased and tempted but never relented. Her tongue danced and relished the flavor of his talented mouth. She ran her tongue past the roof of his mouth, pointing and pulsing. She licked his lips and savored.

No, she hadn’t kissed a lot of men in the past, and after getting a dose of what Lawrence had to offer, she was sure she would never want to kiss another man. How could she? How could anyone else measure up?

Moaning, she took her hands and placed then on both sides of his face, holding him in an attempt to quell some of the passion. He wasn’t having it. She knew he wouldn’t stop until he was ready.

When he finally let up a little, resorting to soft teasing pecks, she groaned. His kiss had blindsided her and she had no clue how to recuperate from the seductive assault. She had no idea how she was going to deal with her overwhelming desire for a man who didn’t believe a word she said and who thought she was a criminal.

Lawrence eased up, stood and reached out his hand. She took it and he helped her up from the ground.

He had no idea what had possessed him to kiss her. He only knew that when he looked at her standing there—so sweet, innocent and passionate about wanting to work with at-risk youth—something inside of him melted. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, love her and keep her safe.

Yes, he was developing feelings for Minerva Jones. And when he really thought about all of his out-of-character actions as far as she was concerned, he realized that he had felt something for her from the first moment he saw her.

Where did that leave him when he wasn’t even sure if she were a criminal or not?

“We should probably walk back to the house now.”

She nibbled her lower lip and nodded, her face flushed and her eyes filled with passion. It was all he could do not to kiss her again. He reached over and brushed a leaf off her shoulder, grazing her cheek lightly. He felt a tingle shoot from his hand to his chest.

As they headed back to the house in silence, he couldn’t believe he had almost made love to her—outside in broad daylight. He’d been that close, that senselessly aroused, that open. Was she indeed on the up-and-up? For all he knew she could have been the ringleader behind her brother and the McKnights being murdered. Or maybe she really knew who did it and was lying about it. And if she could lie that well and have him setting aside all his normal reactions, then she was damn good, And damn dangerous.

He’d been burned before trusting the wrong person in the past, and a life had been lost.

He wasn’t trying to go that way again.

When they entered the house, she hadn’t said a word and he had been deep in thought. She went into the study and picked up the book she’d been reading before they left.

“Who killed your brother and the McKnights, Minerva?” He knew he had a hard edge to his voice, but he couldn’t help it.

If she were trying to play him…

She looked up at him and squinted. “Maybe you should just take me back to Paterson and let them kill me, too, Lawrence. Because I can’t continue to try and prove to you that I’m telling the truth. I don’t know.”

“Okay, what made you leave Los Angeles and come to Jersey? Had you been keeping in that close of contact with the McKnights? Why? Something is missing.”

“They were very close friends of my brother. I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“So your brother didn’t have any friends in Los Angeles? You had to come all the way to Jersey? You didn’t have any friends? No one from school? I just find it hard to believe that your brother is murdered and the first thing you think to do is run.”

She blinked and paused.

He narrowed his eyes.

She’s holding back something. I can’t trust her.

She nodded. “I’m done. Done.” She got up and calmly walked out of the room. It was all he could do not to follow her.

“You’d like me to slam the door, jerk. I know you would. But I have home training. I was raised right, and I’m not going to give you the satisfaction,” she mumbled to herself and she carefully shut the door to her bedroom. She wasn’t going to storm through the beautiful house as if she had no class, no matter how angry the detective made her.

How could someone as well trained as he was get it all so wrong?

She buried her head in her pillow and screamed.

She started to tell him that David was in LosAngeles and he was the one who told her to leave. But she didn’t want to drag David even further into her brother’s mess. David had a nice, honest life. As a businessman at a top firm, he had worked hard to make it out of South Central. He had tried to help Calvin and he had helped her more than enough. She wouldn’t name him to anyone if she could help it, not even her dashing detective.