When the Heart Lies (8 page)

He reached for her before she took off. But he could see she was on a mission and wasn’t going to be reasonable. “Wait. Kinsley, wait! We need to make a plan. We can’t just waltz back into the building. Their very strict about being on the grounds after ten p.m.”

She ran as she yelled. “You’re wasting time.”

“Shit.” He ran after her. When he caught up, he grabbed her and pulled her to the ground. He had to. To stop her. When she struggled to get away, he caught hold of her leg and dragged her down, trapping her beneath him. He didn’t have to do that. Belly to the ground, she thrashed about, tearing at the grass.

“Damn it, Jackson, let me go! I need to get back. Why are you doing this?”

Exertion slowed her breath to shallow pants; she was nearly breathless. He lifted himself slightly to lessen the weight. “I’ll let you go if you stop resisting and listen to me for a minute.”

Her body slackened. “Fine, I’ll listen.”

Once up, he lent his hand to help her.

Before she reached her feet, she started griping and madly brushing the grass from her clothes. He grabbed her and drew her close, clasping his hand over her mouth. She wrenched her head around trying to push his hand away. Wild-eyed and red-faced, if she was a tomato she would’ve exploded.

He choked on his laughter and tried to reason with her, in a whisper. “If I take my hand from your mouth, are you going to be quiet and listen to me?” It looked doubtful.

She nodded fast. Somehow, her eyes managed to stay in their sockets. As he took his hand from her mouth, his head slowly tilted downward. He narrowed his eyes. As he assumed, she had more to say.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? God damn you!”

Slap. His hand landed over her mouth again. “Damn, woman, you’re not going to listen to me, are you?”

Her eyes scrunched up, and her mouth contorted beneath his hand. It was anybody’s guess what she was saying. He pulled her as close as he possibly could, enjoying it fully. Then, he looked her dead in the eye and spoke in long overdrawn syllables.

“If you don’t keep your mouth shut when I take my hand from it, I’m going to tie you up and keep you in the boathouse. And if you think I’m kidding—just try me.” He was kidding, but hoped reacting as extremely as she was, might snap her back to reality, so they could sneak back into the building without creating an unnecessary scene.

Her body went somewhat limp, and she lowered her eyes to one side. He slowly lifted his hand from her mouth; it fell into a frown, and then she did it —the perfect Scarlet O’Hara pout. He shook his head, laughed, and let her go. Rapidly, he grabbed two handfuls of muck from the nearest tree bed and threw it on her.

Her body bowed at the waist, catching the muck as if her belly were a baseball glove. She glared at him and shouted. “Have you lost your mind?”

Before he answered, he gripped her scrub top at the waist and pulled it loose. Then he swirled her hair all over head like a rat’s nest. “There. Perfect.”

Her tone became extremely calm, considering the circumstances. “What the hell…?”

“I have a plan.” He turned and walked back to the boathouse.

“Where are you going?” With her hands splayed out to her sides and stomping her feet as she walked, she pleaded for an explanation. “Why are we going back to the boathouse?”

“I need a beer.”

She followed close behind him. After grabbing a beer from the fridge, he rotated back. His chest bumped her crossed arms; he lifted his beer and leaned back to steady himself.

Her mouth hung open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He twisted the cap, took a swig, turned, and walked out. “C’mon.” After locking the door, he motioned for her to follow him. “Take your time. We have a few minutes.”

When she stopped following, he turned to her. “Just trust me.”

She scowled at him, but started moving again. Finding her stubbornness not only appealing, but arousing. He couldn’t help but imagine her bare ass naked and over his knee, but tried not to.

It wasn’t long before they got to the lake. He headed toward the small fishing dock, which stretched out over the water about fifteen feet or so.

“And where are you headed—now?” she asked, sounding like a mother who was exasperated with her child.

“I told you. I have a plan.” He set his beer bottle down on the dock and jumped in.

“Wha, what the hell are you doing?” She jumped up and down with her forearms together and peeked from behind her fists.

Out in an instant, he lifted himself from the dock, muscles rippling, dripping wet. Shaking the water from his hair like a playful pup, he smiled.

“Alligators, Jackson! What’re you thinking? You’re a fool. You belong in a mental hospital.” She raised one finger in the air as if to make a proclamation. “Yes, yes. I get it. You’re not a detective at all. You’re crazy, and you’re here on R&R.”

His head jerked backward as he laughed. “What?” He continued laughing.

She scrunched up her eyes again and pursed her lips, pissed off and awfully cute. With both fists flying, she headed for him and began earnestly beating him in the chest.

“You son of a—.”

“Whoa, so you’re a potty mouth. That makes you a bad girl.” He grasped both her wrists, wrapped his foot around her ankle, and guided her fall to the ground.

He was wet. She was dirty. And when the ground was finally beneath them, they were face-to-face. This time, when their eyes met, she stopped resisting. His mouth came down on hers, hot and demanding. He groaned when he lifted his lips from the sweet moistness. They returned to taste, again and again, lingering longer each time until he slid them sensuously from the corner of her mouth along her chin, burning a trail down her neck.

Moans escaped her, spurring him on. She wrestled and loosened her wrist from his grasp. He gripped it again, pushed it roughly down to the ground, and slowly slid his hand down her arm toward her breasts. His mouth and hand met together, caressing and nibbling her hardened nipple through the thin, moist fabric of her top. When he let her hand free, she grasped his hair and pulled his mouth to hers. As he became more aggressive, she moved her hips to meet his full hardness and gasped.

She made him crazy, in want of more, but he jumped up as if nothing had occurred. He hadn’t meant to let things get so heated and needed to put some distance between them. As much as he wanted her, he
was
on a job. He also needed to get her back into the building by four o’clock. Otherwise, staff breaks would be over for the night, and they’d have no way of getting back in without notice. “C’mon. Time to go.”

“Wha? Ah, you.”

Scanning her reaction, he comically mirrored the shocked look on her face. “Do you stutter frequently?” Though he was teasing, he was flattered she was disappointed. Probably not as disappointed as he was, but he wasn’t the one stuttering.

Her mouth opened and hung that way until she clamped it closed with a scowl.

“Woman. You—I’m looking forward to.” He stood and lent his hand, helping her to her feet. He now knew how to render her speechless. He smiled. Both humored and pleased by the effect he had on her.

~ ~ ~

The pout on Kinsley’s face was sincere. She’d let herself get tangled in this man’s allure rather than figuring out how he could be of help to her and Max.
How could he be of help when I’m afraid to say what’s happening anyway?
Obviously, he’d been toying with her. She kicked herself for falling for his feigned interest in her problems. Only to find out his real agenda was recreation in the grass.

His grip was far too strong to wriggle out of, and he continued to pull her along like a wagon, oblivious to her annoyance and stumbling. Despite her not wanting it to, his hand
felt secure, warm, and tender. For some reason, she trusted him. Her panic faded, and she believed him when he said he’d take care of things. But for the life of her, she couldn’t imagine how being wet and filthy would help anything.

~ ~ ~

They approached the main building. Four staff stood near the entrance smoking. Jackson timed their return perfectly, getting to the door during their four a.m. break.

“Damn, Jackson. Where have you two been?” Hector said, wide-eyed, scanning them up and down.

“It’s a long story,” he said.

“I’m sure it is. You two look pitiful.”

“I need a couple of you to help me. Who’s in? I’ll throw in a case a beer for your trouble.”

There was no doubt they would help him. Three of them he’d known since high school. They were good guys, the type who always had your back, and when they needed him, he’d always been around for them, too.

Hector spoke up first. “I’m in. Better make the story good because they know you’re both gone.”

“What do they know?” he asked.

“A nurse found Kinsley’s pillows in her bed. They been looking all over. Only been about five minutes, though. Haven’t started outside yet.”

“Count me in,” Miller said.

Jackson grabbed the ID from Miller’s scrub top, tearing the pocket, and put the ID on Kinsley. She and Hector glanced at each other, and then flashed him curious expressions.

“This is the story.” Jackson said. “Kinsley’s room is on the south side. From her window she saw me at the lake and reasoned I might be thinking of doing something stupid.” He thought for a bit and pointed at Miller. “She ran down the hall and snatched your ID.”

The guys eyed each other in a roundabout way. One scratched his head, the other rubbed his chin, and the third watched as his cigarette sail into the distance. They didn’t appear to have confidence in his idea.

“How did she get out the door?” Miller asked.

Jackson studied the stars, thinking. “Ah… by the time she got around the corner, she walked calmly through the door appearing to be a staff member.” It was a stretch.

Miller slanted his head toward the boys. Every head drifted in different directions. Still, they weren’t convinced.

“I wouldn’t notice anything odd about her leaving the building?” Hector said.

“Per diem staff is here all the time. Do you check their IDs leaving the building?”

Hector pursed his lips and shook his head. “Nope.”

“She took my ID. Wouldn’t I go after her?” Miller added.

“You did go after her, but for the other patients’ safety you had to pick up the meds she knocked out of your hands first.” Jackson surprised even himself, coming up with that one.

Miller mulled the scenario over and began nodding his head. “Yeah, I’d do that. What next?”

“She got to the lake before you could reach her. She startled me, and I fell in.”

“So, how’d she get all wet and dirty?”

The guys all laughed, letting their imaginations fill in the blanks. Finally, they got behind the story.

He peeked over at her and smiled. “Well, I did that because I thought it’d be funny.”

She narrowed her eyes scorning him, punched him in the arm, and then massaged her smarting fist.

He grabbed his arm and added a dramatic face.
“That hurt.”

“Good, it was meant to!” She did the eye squint, screwed up mouth thing that always made him want to laugh.

Right back to business, he turned to Hector. “They’ll ask about her taking Miller’s ID. Be sure you tell them she was beside herself with worry. Tell them she yelled something like, “He’s going to jump. He’s going to jump!”

Hector nodded.

“Far as you know, she was trying to help.” He scanned the group to be sure everyone understood. When it appeared they did, he flicked his brows and mimicked a kiss in Kinsley’s direction. She ignored him
.

Hector headed in. After a couple minutes, he and Kinsley went in with Miller, and the other two followed. They walked toward the nurses’ station and spotted Hector talking with the charge nurse and the supervisor, Mr. Byrd, who was getting loud and obnoxious.

“The two patients are fine. Just a misunderstanding,” Hector said.

“A misunderstanding,” Byrd said, angrily, “that allowed two people to walk out of the building? Do you know what kind of liability we could incur if something happened? Why do you think we lock this place down at night?”

“No one let anyone walk out of the building,” Hector said, one eye pinched and one eye glaring.

Jackson knew Byrd, and he wasn’t worth arguing with. Byrd was going to have to be right. It was better to let him think he was.

“Really now?” Byrd pulled his tie, loosening it from his red neck. “Appears to me, the two patients in front of me have clearly been out of the building.”

Hector didn’t back down. His arms stiffened with squared fists as his body slanted toward Byrd. “Well, maybe if you and your cronies weren’t so damn cheap, the patients would wear white scrubs when they come in and need a change of clothes. Instead of blue like the staff members. Y’all can spend money on every other God damn luxury.”

“You’re insubordinate!” Crimson now, Byrd shook his finger violently in Hector’s face. “This isn’t about scrubs. When’s the last time someone came here needing scrubs?”