CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
T
HE FIRST STREAKS OF DAWN
peeked through the partially opened curtains of the McGraws’ recreation room. Kylie stirred in Jack’s arms, but she was still fast asleep. He’d been awake for hours. The sleeper sofa was comfortable enough, and having Kylie safe in his arms was a blessing, but his mind and conscience wouldn’t shut down.
Growing up, Jack had spent a lot of hours in this room. He’d had a lot of laughs, played a lot of games. Last night, he’d played dirty and played for keeps.
He’d never felt guilty about having sex, but he was feeling a little uneasy about what could only be equated to calculated manipulation. He knew Kylie hadn’t experienced ultimate satisfaction in lovemaking until their first time together. He knew she was adventurous and hungry for more. He’d used that knowledge to his advantage, pleasuring her in countless ways, in countless positions, making it impossible for any other man to compete. He hoped.
Fundamentally, he’d been motivated by lust and honest affection. But there’d been a troubling dose of jealousy and insecurity in the mix.
In the heat of the moment, Travis Martin had invaded Jack’s mind. It’s not that he thought anything sexual was going on between Kylie and Martin, but there was a bond. A
deep connection
, something Jack avoided, according to that quack he’d agreed to visit in a failed attempt to salvage his marriage. Only now, Jack realized that counselor had been dead-on in his assessment. Jack
had
been a guarded coward. It pissed him off that Martin had more “emotional” guts than he did. Worse, he was certain the man had a tarnished past. He felt it in his bones. It chafed that he couldn’t prove it. It made him seem overly suspicious and petty in Kylie’s eyes.
If only he’d found incriminating evidence against Martin when he’d searched his sequestered farmhouse. But there’d been nothing suspicious. No hint of a former life. No hint of being dragged out against his will. Just verification that he was widowed and, after speaking with his boss, probably on a much-needed vacation.
Or…he was swimming with the fishes.
Kylie rolled over and rested her cheek against Jack’s chest. She flung a leg over him and slipped her arm around his waist. Snuggling closer, she made a sleepy, satisfied sound that warmed his blood.
Jack clung to her goodness, her optimism. It had taken him seventeen years to discover the power and beauty of Kylie Ann McGraw. He didn’t want to lose her to another man. Although if he didn’t change his views on marriage and children, he certainly stood that risk. Unless
her
views changed. Or, hell, maybe they’d both mellow and find a happy medium. Who knew what would happen in time? He told himself to take a breath.
Slow down
. Maybe Kylie was right, maybe he was trying to sabotage their relationship. If he committed heart and soul at the deepest level, he’d be doomed if he ever lost her. He thought about all the atrocities he’d seen. The accidents and homicides. Imagining Kylie suffering any one of those fates turned his insides to stone.
No,
he cautioned himself.
Don’t shut down. Fire up.
Mind racing, he pressed a kiss to Kylie’s temple, then gently untangled himself from her gloriously flexible limbs. She snuggled deeper beneath the covers while he quietly dressed, then stole away into the kitchen. He placed a call to Officer Anderson, asking him to drive over and to keep tabs on Kylie until further notice. While waiting, he made a cup of instant coffee and ticked off a mental checklist, duties he could delegate to his officers regarding the Apple Festival, facts he wanted from WITSEC. He also intended to push County to step up their investigation. He wanted to know what he was dealing with. He wanted this over. He wanted Paradise in the Heartland and a shot at happiness with Kylie McGraw.
K
YLIE RELEASED A PENT-UP BREATH
when she heard the front door open and shut. Jack was gone.
It had taken him a good fifteen minutes to leave. Pretending to be asleep while he’d dressed had been hard, but certainly easier than addressing the bigger lie—Travis’s whereabouts. Yes, she was unsettled about Jack’s hang-ups about marriage and kids, but that was way down the pike and this snafu with Travis was right in her face. She’d wrestled with the dilemma in her dreams. It’s not that she didn’t trust Jack. She didn’t trust the situation. What if she shared the information with him and then he shared it with WITSEC and then somehow news leaked? What if, for the sake of easing her conscience, she put a man’s life at risk?
Somewhere in the middle of her exhausted sleep, she’d decided to keep quiet awhile longer. Maybe County’s investigation would show that she had indeed been the victim of a hoax. Or maybe they’d find the actual body and the authorities would focus on that poor soul rather than Travis.
The trick was to put it out of her mind, otherwise she’d fret herself sick. She was already worried about Faye. Even though her friend had called last night to say she and the kids had arrived in Florida safely and that her dad was doing great for a man who’d broken both legs, she’d still sounded stressed to the max. Kylie had volunteered to drop everything and fly down to help, but Faye had insisted they were fine.
“Besides,”
she’d said,
“you need to focus on McGraw’s grand reopening.”
No one could argue with Faye and, besides, she was right. UPS had promised an early delivery. With luck, Kylie would have the
Bada-Bling!
imports on display before she opened the doors for business. Those customized sneakers were the last slice of the renovation pie. Today, Eden would get a peek at the new and vastly different McGraw’s Shoe Shoppe. How sad that Travis wasn’t here to see people
ooh
and
aah
over his creative masterpiece.
Don’t think about Travis!
Right.
Instead, she thought about Jack. Kylie stretched her normally limber muscles, aching in new and wondrous places. With anyone else, some of the sexual intimacies and positions she’d engaged in last night might have felt weird or wrong, but with Jack they were just wildly exciting. She was in touch with her spiritual side enough to know it was because she was deeply, madly in love with the man. Real love. True love.
She wanted to believe they could work out their issues. She wanted to believe they stood a chance. That he was
the one
and she was
the one
and that they’d be together just as she’d always dreamed.
Channeling positive thoughts, Kylie swung out of bed and made a beeline down the hall and up the stairs. She showered and dressed, focusing on the good things in life. She counted her blessings. She chanted positive affirmations. She envisioned McGraw’s Shoe Shoppe being the talk of the town, of increased traffic and mega sales. She envisioned more erotic sex with Jack, more snuggle time with Jack, walks in the woods, dancing under the stars and dining on pizza and chop suey with Jack.
She worked herself up from worrywart to happy camper—a delicious state of oblivion.
She was actually humming when she padded down the stairs, dressed to impress for the grand reopening of McGraw’s. Craving a cup of hot tea, she headed toward the kitchen, freezing in her cushy, soft, patent-leather, apple-red loafers at the sound of footsteps. Someone was in the house, in the kitchen!
That
someone
was coming her way.
Burglar? Mobster?
“Jack?” she choked out.
Her cell phone was in the recreation room.
The landline was upstairs and in the kitchen.
She could bolt for the front door, but then the intruder might shoot her in the back. Too late, anyway. The wood floor creaked louder and Kylie adopted a fighting stance. The element of surprise was on her side. She hadn’t attended a martial arts class in quite a while, but basics were ingrained in her brain. A series of defense moves and body-target areas flashed in her head.
Courage and commitment
, she thought just as the intruder rounded the corner.
Aiming at her opponent’s temple, she launched a roundhouse kick, pulling short when she noticed the uniform. Regardless, she clipped Officer Andy Anderson in the shoulder, sending him flying back, two cups of brew in hand. Or rather, on his uniform.
“Jesus!” he hissed. “Are you nuts?”
“I’m sorry!” Kyle rushed forward and stifled a nervous laugh. The man was sitting on his butt, his EPD uniform soaked with hot beverages. It wasn’t funny. But she was just so dang relieved he wasn’t some goon. “What are you doing here?” she snapped as she relieved him of the china cups. At least he hadn’t dropped and broken them. Grandma would have freaked.
“Protecting you.” He pushed to his feet, looking equally embarrassed and mad. “Chief Reynolds assigned me to drive you to work, to watch over you. You’ve got him spooked with that mobster talk, Kylie. You should be ashamed. Haven’t you heard about his burnout on big crime in the Big Apple?”
She’d heard. “Know any details on that?”
“No. You?”
“No.”
“Shoot,” they complained in unison.
She rushed into the kitchen, placed the cups in the sink and soaked a sponge with cool water. “How long have you been here?”
“The chief let me in on his way out,” Andy said, coming up behind her. “I thought you were sleeping so I stayed in the living room, read a magazine. When I heard you come out…” started to say good morning but you raced right up the stairs and you were…
Naked as a jaybird.
“I thought I was alone,” she squeaked, turning to dab at his stained shirt and pants.
“Obviously.” He nabbed the sponge and attacked the mess himself. “Anyway, I wanted some coffee, but settled for tea since there was a box of Lipton right there on the counter. I thought you might like a cup, too.”
“That was nice.”
He grunted. “Please don’t tell Chief Reynolds I saw you in the buff.”
“Please don’t tell
anyone
you saw me in the buff.”
“Deal. Nice body, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
Even though he was concentrating on his stained shirt, she could see he was blushing. That made two of them. The trick would be
not
to blush every time she ran into Andy from here on out. “Why are you here again?”
“To protect you from phantom mobsters and to drive you to work.”
“Oh, right.” She pushed aside her mortification and focused, once again, on McGraw’s. “Gotta grab my purse. Meet you at the front door.”
“No wonder Ashe is bent,” Andy muttered as she headed for the recreation room.
Kylie froze in her tracks. “What?”
“What?”
“You said something about Ashe Davis.”
Andy, who was two years Kylie’s junior, placed the sponge in the sink and brushed past her. “I was just thinking about your body and… Never mind.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d blot the image of me in my birthday suit from your brain.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“But that other thing…” She followed him into the living room. “What’s Ashe got to do with me?”
“Nothing. That’s why he’s bent.”
Kylie shifted her weight while Andy fanned the wet spot on his pants with a magazine. “Are you saying Ashe is angry because I, um, hooked up with Jack instead of him?”
“Sort of. Let’s just say his pride and pocket are bruised. Ask Faye. Stan knows about the betting pool. I’m sure he told her.”
Kylie’s face grew hotter.
Betting pool?
“Faye’s not here. You’re here. And if you don’t spill the beans, I’m going to swipe that magazine out of your hand and whack you with it!”
Andy glanced up. “Never knew you were so violent.”
“I’m not. Usually. Then again, I haven’t been myself lately.”
“I’ve heard the stories.”
She took a menacing step forward. “Andy—”
“Oh, all right.” He slapped the magazine down on her mom’s coffee table, then adopted an official stance—shoulders back, hands braced above his leather holster. “Ashe and Chief Reynolds faced off the other day in J.J.’s Pharmacy and Sundry. They were buying—” he cleared his throat “—condoms and arguing about who would…well, ring your bell.”
She blinked.
“Sure you don’t want to ask Faye about—”
“Go on,” Kylie grit out. She would
not
die of mortification. At least not before she got the whole story.
“All right. But don’t hit me. I’m just the messenger.”
“Noted.”
“Ever since that journalist dude you were sleeping with split town, Ashe has been bragging that he’d be the first man to…uh…”
“Ring my bell.”
“You know Ashe. He’s an…”
“Arrogant dog.”
“When Jack showed on the scene, some of the guys started ribbing Ashe about losing his chance to be your…um…”
“Bell ringer?”
“Ashe reacted by placing his money where his…well…”
“I get the picture.” Kylie wanted to hit something, or more pointedly, someone. She balled her fists at her sides, breathed deep.
Andy took a step back. “Everyone knows Jack and you…that he…well, hell, Kylie. There’s a bounce in your step that wasn’t there a few days ago. Some of the guys are nudging Ashe to pay up. He’s bent. About losing the money and, mostly, losing out to Jack. Way I hear it, their rivalry goes way back.”
Kylie spun off to get her purse. She’d heard all she needed to hear. Now someone else was going to get an earful.
A minute later, she was buckled into Officer Andy Anderson’s squad car. Wisely, he didn’t speak during the two-minute drive into the center of town. Nor did he complain when she asked him to stop at Kerri’s Confections instead of driving her straight to McGraw’s. He did however, reach for his cell phone.
“Don’t you dare call Jack,” Kylie warned as she shoved open the passenger door.
“But—”
“This is between Ashe and me.”
“You’re not going to cause him bodily harm, are you?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t know. But she did know that Ashe Davis stopped at Kerri’s every morning to grab breakfast and to flirt with the waitresses before heading to his car dealership. She knew that he always sat at the counter. She spied his smarmy self the moment she breached the café’s door. Her ears and blood burned with gossipy whispers from the other diners as she marched in his direction. She wanted to blast him. She wanted to slap him.