Touching the Past (6 page)

Zac yawned, a sleepy smile crossing his face. “It’s not like it is in the movies.” The curve of his mouth slipped into a frown. “The guy has serious mental problems to begin with. Then he was hopped up on something
and
driving a stolen car. Plus, taking the ex-girlfriend hostage. What a mess.”

The stand-off had lasted for four hours. The man released the woman, then tried to kill himself.

“Just finished the paperwork.” Zac’s words were slurred. “What a mess.” The hand holding the now empty cup loosened. The cup rolled onto the couch. Zac sighed.

Mallory waited. When Zac didn’t move, she ventured a soft, “Zac?”

A snore was his only response.

Mallory looked at him, feeling amused, exasperated, and unexpectedly tender toward him. He was exhausted, running on fumes. She was certain it wasn’t just the stand-off and its aftermath that had drained him. He’d been working on finding his missing people for weeks. Probably putting in extra hours.

He’d been the same way in high school. Zac had been failing every subject when her father asked her to tutor him. The sophomore seemed to have no ambition at all. Then something clicked for him. Mallory had never figured out what it was. He went from an “F” to an “A” in math almost overnight. The same thing happened with his other subjects. The improved grades earned him a spot on the basketball team, and her father found him a part-time job with a lawn care and snow removal service. But trying to keep up with everything wore Zac out. He started looking like the walking dead. One night while he was working with Bill on a paper for history class, Zac conked out on the couch. He’d ended up spending the night there.

Thinking of it, Mallory smiled. It looked like history was repeating itself. Reaching over carefully, so as not to disturb him, she picked up the cup and stood. Zac didn’t stir.

Asleep, the lines of his face were softened. He looked more like a boy than a detective. Or a member of a SWAT team.

Annoyed with herself, she shook her head. What did looks have to do with anything? When she’d been a little girl living on military bases, her father had pointed out more than one man who looked more like a store clerk than a highly decorated combat officer.

Now that the first surprise and shock had passed, she felt a sense of growing pride in Zac. He had turned out to be quite a man. She had a sense of the training he’d had to go through to become a SWAT member. It wasn’t easy and not just anyone could do it.

She watched the rise and fall of his chest. She really didn’t know the man Zac had become. But she wanted to. She wanted to know what made him smile. Laugh. What he thought. She didn’t want him to walk out of her life after he found his missing people. And she was sure he
would
find them.

But right now, none of that mattered. He needed sleep.

A quick trip upstairs for a pillow and blanket and she was back to the still sleeping man. She bit her lip. He couldn’t be comfortable sitting like that. But she didn’t want to wake him.

Chewing her lip the while, she tugged and pulled on him until he was stretched the length of the couch, his head on the pillow. He mumbled and muttered unintelligible words, but never woke. Slipping off his shoes, she flipped the blanket over his stockinged feet.

Mallory stood, wincing and putting her hand to the small of her back. Zac Herrera wasn’t big, but as deadweight he was awkward to move. His hair had gotten more mussed as she’d shoved him around. Giving in to impulse, Mallory smoothed it back, brushing a light kiss across his forehead as she did so. His skin was smooth and warm beneath her lips. His aftershave was crisp and clean smelling.

Zac sighed heavily.

Mallory froze, her heart pounding in her ears. Was he going to wake up? How would she explain the—

Zac rolled slightly, tugging the blanket closer and pressing into the back of the couch.

Straightening, Mallory returned to the study and her spreadsheets, trying to fix her attention on columns of numbers when all she really wanted to do was think about the man in the next room.

Chapter 7

Where was he?

Zac blinked and tried to wake up. His head felt heavy and muzzy. He moved it and felt something soft and giving beneath his cheek.

It was dim in the room. Light from somewhere else cast just enough illumination that he could make out the general features of a chair and a coffee table. Bookcases.

This wasn’t his place. Where was he?

He tried to sit up and found himself constrained. Looking down he saw the outlines of a blanket wrapped around him.

Blanket. He stopped tugging at it. Someone had covered him up. Someone—Mallory!

Throwing it back, Zac sat up and rubbed his hand over his face. He’d come here and—fallen asleep?

Good one, Herrera.
He leaned on his knees.
Nothing impresses a woman like falling asleep on her.

He wasn’t surprised he’d conked out. He’d been running on coffee and Mountain Dew for days.

It’d been a rough week. There were only four detectives in the department and one was on his honeymoon and another was out sick. Zac had picked up some of her cases in addition to his own. He’d already been putting in extra hours on the missing persons. The psychic fair follow-up had turned into a pain. Then there was the stand-off.

SWAT didn’t, as a rule, get called out very often. Zac spent more time on regular detective work than SWAT duties. Midland crime didn’t tend toward the kind that needed negotiators and sharp-shooters. Sometimes it’d be a couple months between SWAT calls. But last night there’d been one.

They’d been lucky. Al Terbrack, the man in the case, had a history of mental illness, drug abuse, and suicide attempts. For a time, Zac thought it was going to end up a case of “suicide by cop,” one of an officer’s worst nightmares. But Brendon Phillips, a sergeant with the county sheriff’s office and their lead negotiator, had talked Terbrack into letting the ex go. When he tried to kill himself, his gun jammed. They were able to take him without any trouble after that. He was locked up and under observation now.

Zac leaned back and stretched, feeling more alert. He needed to apologize to Mallory.

It was odd. He didn’t remember deciding to come here. He’d
wanted
to see her. And not just because of what he’d found out during the investigation. Every day it had been a struggle not to make up an excuse to drop by or call her. During the day, when he was on the job, it hadn’t been hard to ignore the impulse. But at night, when he was alone in his apartment, remembering how her skin had felt—how she’d looked. It had been difficult to resist the impulse to call, just to hear her voice.

He wished he’d been awake when she tucked him in. Maybe she would have given him a kiss good night.

A kiss good night.
Zac touched the tips of his fingers to his forehead. Did he remember the brush of lips? Or was it just a dream?

Man, did he have it bad. The thought of Mallory kissing him excited him more than it should have. She was just being kind. The way she’d been kind to the loser kid all those years ago.

He pushed himself off the couch, the thought making him angry and depressed.

Mallory was in the study. Her glasses halfway down her nose, she peered at the computer screen. Her hair was mussed, as if she’d run her hand through it. She was chewing her bottom lip.

“Hey,” he said without thinking. “You shouldn’t do that.”

Spinning the chair away from the computer, Mallory looked up. Her quick smile turned quizzical. “Do what?”

“Bite your lip like that.” Zac could have kicked himself. Once he said the words, he couldn’t look away from her mouth. He watched Mallory’s tongue come out with a nervous flick to moisten her lips. They parted. Zac took a step forward.

“Why?” Mallory’s voice was breathy. Seductive.

“You’ll make it sore.” He didn’t know what he was saying, only that his voice sounded rough and deep in his ears. Like a stranger’s, in the sudden, charged silence.

He wrenched his gaze upward.

Mallory’s eyes were wide. In their dark depths he saw a touch of nervousness. But more than that, he saw excitement, promise,
want
.

His pulse quickened. Did she really want him the way he wanted her? The thought was enough to make him dizzy.

Mallory touched her teeth to her lower lip. “Do you want to kiss and make it better?” Her face flushed, but she kept her gaze fixed on him.

His heart flipped in his chest. There it was. That look. The one he’d wanted to see for so long. The look that said she was seeing
him
, Zac Herrera.

It was more potent than he remembered, making his blood flow hot in his veins. Spurred to action, he moved around the desk and reached for her. Mallory came up into his grasp, wrapping her arms around him.

It wasn’t a tentative kiss. It was an explosion of sensation that made Zac’s head spin and his legs tremble. He’d never tasted anything as sweet and hot as Mallory Woods.

He smoothed his hands over her back and up into her hair, pressing himself closer. She moved against him.

Zac groaned, sinking deeper into the kiss, desperate to taste more of Mallory. To memorize the feel of her in his arms.

It was so much more than Zac had ever imagined. The dreams of the unmotivated boy about the school’s golden girl paled in comparison to the reality. Mallory was honey and heat and
real
. She was in his arms. A woman, not a girl. A woman in a man’s arms.

When they finally broke apart, they remained in one another’s arms. Zac tilted his head back a bit to look up into Mallory’s face. Her heavy-lidded eyes looked dazed. Her silky hair was even more disordered from his roving hands. Her lips were swollen and soft.
Dios, she was beautiful.

Unable to resist, he prodded her tender lip with his thumb, then brushed his mouth across it. When he would have lingered, Mallory pulled her head back. “We…shouldn’t.”

The words brought Zac up short. He loosened his hold on her, though he didn’t move away. “Why not?”

She lowered her gaze, hiding her eyes. She caught her lip with her teeth and just as immediately released it. Color flooded her face. “It’s… This is… We shouldn’t,” she repeated in a firmer voice. “This isn’t the right…time.” She pushed at him.

Zac caught his breath, feeling as if cold water had been thrown in his face. It wasn’t the right time. She was right. It
wasn’t
the right time. There was the investigation. Beth and the others. They needed his full attention. Afterwards…afterwards there would be time to show Mallory how he felt.

How he felt.

How
did
he feel about Mallory? He was attracted to her. As she was to him. A thrill of satisfaction went through him at the thought. She
was
attracted to him. She’d responded to his kiss. He’d felt it.

But he wanted more than that. He wanted… He wasn’t sure what he wanted, but it was more than fevered kisses in the den.

Reluctantly Zac dropped his arms and stepped back out of her space. There was relief—and maybe a hint of disappointment that he’d capitulated so easily—in her expression.

“Thanks.” She gave him a sweet smile that almost had him moving toward her again. He stopped himself. Instinct told him they were at the beginning of something good. That it might even be special. But he couldn’t rush it. Rush her. He’d have to take his time.

Time.

What time was it? How long had he been asleep?

“What’s wrong?” Mallory looked at him, concerned.

“How long have I been here?” Zac looked at his watch, but it wasn’t much help. He didn’t know what time he’d arrived. He’d left the station—when? He shook his head. He didn’t remember. He
had
been out of it.

Mallory’s expression cleared. There was a hint of laughter in her eyes. “About five hours. It’s after nine.”

“I’ve been asleep all that time?” Embarrassment made Zac’s cheeks hot.

“Except for the first few minutes. Yeah, you’ve been asleep.”

Zac rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. I—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Mallory brushed his apology aside. Her lips lifted in a grin. “It isn’t the first time. Remember back in high school?”

“Um-hum.” He remembered. He’d been trying so hard to live up to Bill Woods’ faith in him and to his own higher expectations of himself—and, if he was honest, trying to impress Mallory—that he’d worn himself out. He didn’t remember the exact moment he’d fallen asleep, but he vividly remembered his feelings on waking up and realizing what he’d done. He’d spent at least an hour the next morning worried that he’d talked in his sleep or done something embarrassing that would reveal his crush.

Zac smiled to himself. It wasn’t so different from what he’d felt this time. “I hope I didn’t drool all over your pillow. Thanks for the blanket, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.” Mallory came out from behind the desk, headed for the kitchen. “Do you want something to eat? I have quinoa in the cooker.”

Zac followed her. The urge to trail her around the small kitchen and brush against her was strong. He slipped his hands into his back pockets and rocked on his heels. “Never tried it.” He thought of the nearly empty cupboards and refrigerator in his apartment. “I’m more of a fast food guy.”

“Really?” Mallory pulled two plates from the cupboard. “You don’t look it. I-I mean you look good. I—” She broke off, staring down at the plates in her hands.

She thought he looked good?
Zac straightened and sucked his stomach in.

Mallory had recovered. “I thought everyone was eating quinoa now. It’s the new ‘hot’ food. Good for you and all that.”

By unspoken consent, they weren’t talking about the investigation. Zac vaguely remembered Mallory saying something about it when he first came in, but he couldn’t remember how he’d responded.