Till Justice Is Served (12 page)

Rafe stood, moving to stand behind her. She resisted the urge to lean back and seek out his support. How easily she'd shifted from blaming him for the misunderstanding they'd had as teenagers to trusting him to look out for her best interests.

"I met Evans today," Rafe said. "He has no business working with kids."

"I heard he was pushing too hard. That doesn't mean he's selling drugs on the side." Wade stood. "Thanks for the tea. I'd better run."

Erin walked Wade to the door. He paused and nodded toward Rafe. "He'll make sure you're safe."

"Yeah. He will do that."

She closed the door, half-expecting Rafe to be standing right behind her. The sudden banging noises coming from her kitchen indicated otherwise.

"What are you doing?" A smile pulled at her lips. The tall, muscular, gorgeous man stood in her kitchen with a frying pan in one hand and the flour canister in the other.

"I'm starving. How about you?"

"I could eat." Erin removed the tenderized steaks from the fridge. She let a chuckle escape. "You cook?"

"I'm a confirmed bachelor. Learning to cook was a matter of self-preservation."

Her chest tightened. Rafe's statement had been a direct hit. A reality check. Not that he'd directed it at her as a warning, nor was it a surprise. He was probably available to borrow, but he had no intentions of sticking around.

Erin took charge of the meat, assigning him to biscuit duty. His eyebrows went up when she removed the bag from the freezer. "Use one of these." She handed him a pan from under the counter.

He opened the bag and removed a frozen biscuit. He held it between two fingers for inspection. "I'm supposed to believe this is edible?"

"In twenty-five minutes."

He pursed his lips and tilted his head to the right as he studied the frozen dough. Erin turned on the oven then grabbed her phone and snapped a picture of him. The camera loved the slope of his jawline, his tempting lips, and the mischievous glint in his eyes. She laughed, turning the shot of him around so he could see.

"Now that's a keeper." She slid the cell into her pocket. "Follow the instructions. You can do that, right?"

"Depends on the situation and who's giving them."

Her thoughts went triple-X-rated and weren't the kind she could share. She turned her attention to the steak and worked in silence. If he noticed, he spared her any embarrassment by putting the pan of biscuits in the oven and starting a salad. Erin finished the last dish, a thick white gravy, while Rafe set the table.

He reached around her, and his strong hands covered hers, dwarfing the bowl. "I'll take it."

"Deal. I'll grab the biscuits."

"Not without me. I want to see this miracle."

"Go. You can look all you want after they're on the table."

"I like this side of you," he said, standing close behind her. His deep, sexy voice warmed and unnerved her, while his breath brushed a caress across her ear.

Her insides melted. No way could she look at him, not with heat rushing up her cheeks. She dumped the biscuits into a warming basket and brushed past him. He held her chair at the table, sliding it forward before taking a seat.

"What side of me?" Now that she'd forced out a couple of words, the tension in her shoulders relaxed.

"The side that's not mad at me anymore. It may be old news, but it bothers me that I was too stupid to realize you lashed out because you'd been hurt."

"It's not important." She spooned gravy over her steak. "To hang on to a hurt this long was childish."

"Sure it's important. I would never intentionally hurt you."

The sincerity in his tone and the serious set of his mouth made her wonder. Did he really not know? She handed him the breadbasket in hopes he'd drop the subject.

He peeled back the kitchen towel and stared at the biscuits. "As my Southern granddaddy would've said, 'Well, I'll be damned.'" He picked one up and took a tentative bite. "Good. With gravy, they'll be even better."

"They'll do in a pinch," she said. Pleasure washed over her as he piled his plate high.

Except for an occasional moan from Rafe, they ate in peace for a few minutes. She loved how he enjoyed her cooking.

His hand paused inches from his mouth. "As great as this food tastes, it's not going to get you out of answering my question." He rested his fork on his plate, reached over, and ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek. "A man would be a fool to hurt you."

"You weren't a man, you were a teenage boy."

"That's no excuse. Nick acted out a lot back then, but to deliberately lie and hurt other people. That was wrong. We had probably argued about him using drugs. I can only guess that by hurting you, he must have felt like he was getting even with me."

"I'm sure I said equally horrible things to you."

"You said you'd rather die than be seen in public with me." Rafe's eyebrows lifted.

"You remember my words verbatim?"

"Hey. I'm a guy. Our egos are fragile, especially when we're teenagers." Rafe caught her hand in his. "Nick must've overheard a conversation I had with Dad and Jeff. They wanted me to ask you on a date. Not Nick."

"They what?" Erin's supper rolled into a knot in her stomach. "A boyfriend was the last thing I needed back then."

"Don't you think Jeff was just trying to help?"

"Maybe so, but I realize now that I wasn't ready for a social life. I'd have flipped out if you'd put your arms around me."

"I heard you mention that he'd caught you stealing hot dog buns. You weren't joking."

She'd never been comfortable talking about her childhood. She met Rafe's gaze, prepared to end the conversation. His expression stopped her cold. A softness and compassion radiated from him, pulling her to a level of comfort.

"Yes. I'd been sleeping under a bridge with a small group of runaways. He caught me stealing a package of hot dog buns because I hadn't eaten in days. Instead of arresting me, he hauled me to the youth center and turned me over to Lotty. They saved my life."

"Thank you for telling me." Rafe squeezed Erin's hand. "Jeff's a good man."

She appreciated that Rafe didn't push or ask for more information. "Maybe someday I'll share the rest of the story. But for now, let's eat the dessert you brought."

Time flew by as they ate their slices of coconut cake. After Rafe's second piece, she had to ask if he worked out to stay in shape.

"Genetics and a long run every morning."

"I love to run. I haven't felt safe enough to strike out by myself."

"I'm come get you in the morning."

"Oh," she said as heat shot up her cheeks. "That wasn't a hint."

"I didn't think it was. Six o'clock okay?" The gleam in his eyes said the time was a challenge. No way could she ignore the gauntlet he'd thrown at her feet.

"I usually run earlier, but if you need to sleep in, six is fine."

Erin cleared the table, filling the dishwasher as she went. He brought her his plate and glass, rinsing them before handing them to her.

"We'll drive out to the fairgrounds. The trails out there used to be quiet and safe."

For a moment, images and sounds flew through her mind. The carousel music, the smells wafting off fried turkey drumsticks and cotton candy dragged her close to the abyss. Wrists pinned tightly over her head by a huge hand. Body odor mingled with the stench of stale liquor filled her nostrils. Pain arrowed through her body. Hate crawled up from deep in her subconscious, slithering its way to the here and now.

"My stepfather worked out there. Safe or not, I don't care for that area." She blinked back old memories, refusing to allow the past to control her today.

"Then we won't. But you know I'd never let anyone hurt you, right?"

C
HAPTER 11

Rafe took the carafe from Erin and placed it back on the warmer. Despite her apparent resolve not to allow tears to fall, one broke free and slid down her cheek. Before he could react, she wiped it away as if it had offended her. What had happened to her as a child to trigger such a visceral reaction? His blood pressure soared along with his anger. Careful not to frighten her, he moved closer.

"Come here." He spoke softly and pulled her into his arms. "It's okay to cry."

Her body, tight and rigid, relaxed into him briefly. Then she stepped away, and he immediately dropped his arms to his sides. Pink rushed up her neck, running all the way to her hairline. Wide green eyes briefly met his. Then she turned away and walked to the glass doors leading to her backyard. Embarrassment had colored her cheeks, yet she'd held back her tears.

"I'm sorry. I haven't had a meltdown in years."

Rafe followed. Standing behind her, he ached to comfort her. "There's nothing wrong with having an occasional meltdown." He gave in to the urge to touch her and put his hands on her arms. "I need you to believe that as long as I'm around, nothing bad will happen to you."

"I do. Thanks." She leaned into him, the top of her head resting under his chin. "But you won't be around forever."

Her words landed like a kick to the gut. She was right. She wasn't a murder suspect any longer, but the drug situation at the school still had to be resolved. "I'll stay until we bust the narcotics supplier."

She turned in his arms to face him. The movement of her hair sent a lemony aroma wafting across his face. Warning bells went off. Getting involved with Erin would be a mistake. Hurting her would be inevitable and unforgivable.

"You can do that?"

"If I have to, I'll tack on vacation to the end of my leave." His brain was firing warning shots, but his desire to hold her grew. He'd never wanted to touch a woman as badly as he did this second. To feel her warm body yield to his. "My boss suggested I reconnect with real people." His hands slid around her small waist. "And you feel very real to me."

He had to taste her. Had to know if her lips were as soft as he thought they'd be. The kiss would be only a light touch, an exploratory meeting.

She lifted onto her toes to meet him. Erin's eyelids fluttered closed, and her mouth opened slightly. She molded against him on contact. Her hands dived into his hair. Damn, he was never getting the stuff cut, not if she liked tunneling her fingers through a long mane.

He increased the pressure, coaxed her to open wider, and then he swept his tongue inside when she did. Sweet heaven, blood rushed to his groin. She rose higher on her toes, placing his growing erection against her stomach.

Erin pulled back. Her eyes glazed with desire. Rafe cupped her cheeks, rubbing his thumb over her swollen lips. "That was much better than I expected."

"Too much too soon, don't you think?" She rested the weight of her head in his hand.

"Do you?" The way his body had reacted to her, he couldn't see it.

"I'm not answering that." She lifted her head, leading Rafe to believe she was about to walk away. Instead, she combed his hair in place with her fingers. "That was quite a leap from not wanting to be in the same room to almost tearing off each other's clothes."

"Naked would be good." Sounded like a good plan to his body, but his brain said otherwise. He didn't have room in his life for attachments. "Okay, I'll buy that we've come a long way in the past few days."

"It's late." Taking him by the hand, she led him to the door and stepped onto the porch with him.

God, he wanted to kiss her until she lost her mind. Instead, he leaned down and covered her lips with his, breaking away after a second. "Where's the gun?"

"On my nightstand."

"Good. I'll see you in the morning. We'll find a nice peaceful path to run."

"I know just the place." She lifted onto her toes for another kiss.

"Lock the door." He didn't dare pull her into his arms. The desire to carry her to her bed was still powering his thoughts. He gently brushed her lips with his, moved back, then waited until the bolt on her door slid home. He got in his car and drove away, acutely aware of her scent on his shirt and her taste on his tongue.

Between thoughts of Erin, two dead teenagers, Nick, and a drug dealer who needed to meet his maker, there'd be little rest for Rafe tonight.

At dinner, he'd paid close attention to Beckett's facial expressions. If the detective was aware of the joint undercover operation, he'd shown no signs of it. Maybe narcotics had kept it a secret. Not smart when Beckett was trying to solve two homicides.

****

The binoculars hit the floor at his feet. The sound reverberated off the hardwood floor, amplified by the fact the house was devoid of furniture.

He tried so hard not to be angry with Erin. Casanova clamped his hands over his ears and pressed. He feared his head would explode when his heartbeat rose to such levels.

He stormed away from the window, unable to watch any longer. Surely, his eyes had been playing tricks on him. She would never betray him with another. Not after all he'd done for her.

Erin belonged to him. Why did she flaunt another man under his nose? Was there no end to the hoops she'd force him to jump through? No doubt, the bastard had kissed her against her wishes.

The sound of a car's engine drew his attention. He returned to his vantage point and watched as her friend got into his car and drove away.

He paced, running different scenarios though his mind, until he knew what he had to do. She had to be taught a lesson.

****

Erin opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, wondering why she'd woken from such a lovely dream about Rafe and regretting not taking him to bed last night. Now, getting him out of her head was going to be difficult. Admittedly, having him around for a few weeks was going to be nice.

Who would've guessed his lips were so soft when everything about him was so hard? That monster erection of his had burned through layers of clothing and demanded her attention. She snuggled deeper under her comforter, hoping she could pick up the dream where she'd left off.

A noise from outside grabbed her attention before she could close her eyes. She'd bought an older home and the porch had a few loose boards. Footsteps made an undeniable creaking sound. Was someone trying to break into her house? She slipped out of bed, grabbed the phone, and quickly dialed 911. In a loud voice, she announced to the operator that an intruder was on her front porch and the gun in her hand was pointed at the door. She ignored instructions to stay on the line, opting to dial 666 instead.