She's Got the Look (34 page)

Because he'd fallen in love with the woman. He hadn't quite believed it was possible, and he still didn't know if he'd be any good with this new emotion, but he didn't doubt that was what he felt. For the first time in his life, he really
got
it.

He loved her. He wanted her. And now, after this miserable, ugly day, he was damn glad to be with her.

There was only one problem. Melody was pulling away. Rather than being outwardly glad that a killer had been caught, that her one friend was blissfully happy and her other friend no longer under suspicion for murder, she looked anxious. Withdrawn.

It could just be fatigue—it'd been a long couple of days, especially with the camera nightmare in her apartment. They'd gone on a cross-state trip where she'd met his entire family, not to mention the population of Joyful. And their own relationship had been like a crazy amusement-park ride, going up and down, spinning out of control when neither one of them had really expected it. They'd scaled some high peaks and plunged to some dark depths. All in such a short time.

But he didn't regret one minute of it. He was willing to bet Melody didn't, either, no matter what was weighing on her mind right now.

Maybe it was everything else still left to deal with. Solving the Manning case hadn't shed any light on Melody's Peeping Tom. So he wasn't feeling any less tense about that situation. But he was pretty convinced that either Jonathan Rhodes or Melody's ex had planted the camera.

Rhodes certainly wasn't in any position to do it again.

As for Dr. Bill Todd…well, from what Nick had learned about the man today from the Atlanta PD, he had new troubles of his own. So maybe he wouldn't be so anxious to harass his wife anymore. If he
had
been the one spying on her, he definitely wouldn't once Nick got through with him.

“I'm sorry, everyone, but I'm really tired. I think I'm going to call it a day,” Melody said, confirming his suspicion that something was wrong.

He immediately rose from his chair.

She waved a hand. “Don't worry, I can get home just fine. I have my car. Why don't you stay here and eat? I know you've got to be starving.”

Staring at her, shocked she'd even suggest it, he sensed the others around the table growing quiet and watchful. Melody's friends looked a bit nervous, as if they knew what was going on in her mind. Judging by Tanya's deep frown and the way Rosemary was nibbling her lip, they weren't too happy about it, either.

“I'm fine,” he said slowly. “I wasn't planning on staying, anyway, especially if you're not going to.” As if he would. As if she really
wanted
him to. “Besides,” he added, meaning only to tease her, “I'm not letting you out of my sight after everything that's happened.”

Okay, maybe that wasn't the right tactic. She looked away, her expression even darker, her shoulders slightly slumped. “I don't need you protecting me,” she muttered. “I am capable of looking out for myself.”

Definitely
not the right tactic. “I know you are,” he replied. “But that doesn't mean I can't worry about you. Since I have to come to your place to get Fredo, anyway, I might as well just follow you now.”

She frowned, as if she'd forgotten about the dog. But she stopped arguing.

Saying goodbye to everyone else, Nick escorted her outside. Funny how Savannah had been so bloody hot lately, because the expression Melody was wearing was downright chilly. She didn't say a word as he held her car door open for her.

As he followed her back to her place, Nick began to figure out what was wrong. He mentally kicked himself, recalling the way she'd insisted earlier today that she didn't need to be protected. That had been right before they'd had some of the most incredible, mind-blowing sex he'd ever experienced, so maybe he should get a break for not remembering it right away.

She'd repeated the words at the restaurant. Looking out for herself was obviously important to her. But Nick couldn't change who he was. He took care of people he loved.

Loved.
There was that word again, all bright and shiny, just waiting to be said out loud.

He wondered when he'd have the courage to say it. If she'd someday have the courage to say it back. He certainly didn't expect miracles; Melody could very well have a “once burned, twice shy” attitude like Nick had for the past decade. That he could get past his mental obstacles a bit sooner was understandable. She might need a while before she reached the same conclusion he had: that they were perfect together.

Realizing Melody had gotten ahead of him at a stoplight, he pressed the gas harder. By the time he got to her street, he saw her car was already parked. She wasn't in it. Pulling up behind her hatchback, Nick got out and walked to the door of her building. Before he could even try the knob, the door opened from the inside.

“Hi. Here's Fredo,” she said, sounding out of breath. As if she'd raced up the stairs to grab the dog, then flown back down here so he wouldn't have to come up.

She handed him the leash and Fredo jumped up to give Nick an enthusiastic greeting. Scratching the happy mutt behind the ears, he murmured, “What's going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said, a wary kind of tension building in his head, “I know something's wrong. Are you all right?”

She nodded, stepping outside to join him on the front stoop. “I'm fine. Maybe a little tired.”

He couldn't contain a wolfish smile. It was instinctive when this woman was around. “So let's go to bed.”

Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, Melody shook her head. “I need to be by myself for a while.”

The tension in his temple turned into a pounding. “How long's a while?”

Melody finally looked up at him, meeting his even stare. There was no disguising the confusion in her eyes, or the tight pull of her mouth.

The woman was unhappy. Unsure. Not the Melody he'd been falling in love with over the past several weeks. He was looking at the one he'd met that very first day, out on the sidewalk where she'd taken a nosedive onto her mattress.

“What happened?” he asked, his body growing taut with anxiety, like it did when he sensed something bad was going down on the street. Right now he sensed something very bad was going down on his life.

“Nothing happened,” she said. Her voice shook a tiny bit. “I just realized I need to take some time, Nick. Things are going too fast. I'm afraid I've let myself get off track lately. I'm not achieving what I set out to achieve when I came here.”

That made zero sense. “A new life? A new start? Some happiness? Tell me you haven't achieved all of that…and more.”

She shook her head. “I can't deny that. But I don't know that I can handle this right now. I don't know that I can handle
you.
I'm afraid I've been fooling myself, fooling both of us about how I feel, what I'm capable of feeling.”

He stiffened even more. Because he'd heard that refrain before. He'd certainly been played the fool before, starting way back ten years ago when he'd been a duped eighteen-year-old husband. “
Fooling
me?”

“I don't want to be hurt again,” she said, running a hand through her auburn hair and rubbing at her temple. “I don't want to need you. I don't want you taking care of me.”

She fell silent. But the next logical sentence rang in his ears, anyway.
I don't want you.
He heard it. She had to have heard it, too. It was almost tangible, hanging there in the few inches of night air separating them.

“You want me to leave you alone?” he asked, his body rigid.

There were tears in her big blue eyes. And there was agony on that beautiful face.

But she said it anyway.

“Yes, Nick. I do want you to leave me alone.”

 

M
ELODY'S HEART BROKE
when Nick turned without a word, walked down the front steps, got into his car and drove away.

He hadn't said anything. Not one thing. He'd simply held himself in that stiff military way and left.

This wasn't like the night she'd asked him to leave but hadn't really wanted him to. Because, in her mind, she knew asking him to leave was the right thing to do. At least until she sorted things out for herself.

Somehow, though, she'd expected a few words, a brief conversation. At least an assurance that he understood she simply needed more time. Maybe even that he'd wait.

She didn't expect him to wait for long. She wasn't that selfish a person. Still, she'd expected he'd understand at least a little bit.

But no. Nothing. Not a word. Just that rigid, inflexible posture and a march to his car. And out of her life.

“Oh, my God, please not forever,” she whispered as she shut the door and went upstairs to her apartment. As she walked into her living room, she acknowledged she might have lost the best thing she'd ever had. Being strong, confident and independent was one thing. But being in love…being loved in return…well, she didn't know if there was anything better than that in life.

“It can't be too late,” she murmured, already wondering what to do. Wondering if the anguish she felt now, figuring she'd lost him, was indication enough that she should never have let him get away. Especially not without telling him how she felt.

She thought about calling him and asking him to come back so she could better verbalize her concerns. Or, hell, maybe just jump on the man and take him to bed, since that had been one place she and Nick never had any problems communicating.

Melody nearly reached for the phone, but before she could, it rang. She jerked in surprise at the shrill sound. Sending up a quick prayer that it was Nick calling from his cell phone a couple of blocks away, she answered. “Hello?”

She held her breath, hoping Nick was trying to find the right words. But there was only silence.

Not wanting to think her sick, heavy-breathing stalker might have caught her at a moment when she was already so frigging depressed, she snapped, “Hello? Who is this?” When she got no response, her jaw tightened with anger. “Go to hell.”

“Melody? It's me. Bill.”

“Ahh, it speaks,” she said, not trying to hide her sarcasm. “What's the matter, you afraid you're going to hyperventilate with all that heavy breathing so you decided to talk this time?”

“I'm in trouble.”

“You're going to be if you don't leave me alone. Call me one more time and I'm shoving your phone right down your heavy-breathing throat.” Wow, that felt good.

“I don't know what you mean,” he said, his voice holding a hint of a whine. “I haven't called you in months.”

She didn't want to hear that, didn't want to think her ex hadn't been the person harassing her. Because that would leave her wondering who had. Suddenly feeling weary, she rubbed her eyes and shook her head. “What do you want, Bill?”

Her ex-husband said nothing for a second. In the background, Melody heard yelling, and the clang of metal. “I'm in trouble.”

Like she was supposed to care? “What, did you pick up another case of the clap?”

“You're so sarcastic,” he said, sounding hurt.

Ha. It took emotions to feel hurt. Bill didn't experience them. “And you're wasting my time. Goodbye, Bill.”

“Wait, please.” His voice rose in desperation. “I'm in jail.”

That got her attention like nothing else could. Stunned, she slowly sat down at her kitchen table. “You're kidding.”

“No, I'm not. And I need you to do something for me.”

Her bastard of an ex-husband was in jail and was calling her for a favor. There had to be some kind of divine retribution in this moment, she just knew it. But her curiosity wouldn't let her dwell on it yet. “Why are you in jail?”

“That doesn't matter. Look, I need some money.”

Melody started to laugh. Real belly laughs. When she could finally speak again, she said, “You must be joking. I don't have any money, you moron. You stole it all.”

Someone yelled in the background again and Bill's voice grew lower, more desperate. “It's not funny, Mel, they have me in this dirty place…with these…these
men!
”

Oh, divine retribution indeed. “Sorry, big guy, they don't let male prisoners room with female ones. Not even sexual miscreants like you. Now, I have to go.”

“Melody, please, I'm desperate. I don't have any cash right now—I invested it in a couple of business deals that don't look like they're going to pay off anytime soon. And the court hasn't taken care of the house yet, so you're still on the deed. I need you to co-sign so I can use it as collateral for the bail bondsman.”

She absorbed his words, realizing he was totally serious. The man who'd ripped her life apart and left her with nothing was calling on her to bail him out. Figuratively and literally.

It was unbelievable. Shocking. Almost operatic.

Part of her knew she should be a better person, rise above the past and feel some sort of pity for the man. But deep down, Melody could only think that sometimes karma was a really good thing. “What did you do?”

“We don't need to get into that.”

“If you want me to even
consider
helping you—” not that she seriously was “—you'll tell me what you did.”

Bill hesitated. And Mel started to hang up. “Bye.”

“Wait! I, uh…I met someone on the Internet. And I went to meet her and her friend at a hotel.”

Oh, gag.

“I didn't know they were underage.” He whimpered. “Mel, they're using words like
Internet stalking
and
statutory rape.
”

That was all she needed to hear. The man didn't deserve a single ounce of pity—not that she probably could have mustered one up, anyway. “I think you'd better call your friend the judge and ask him to hurry up on that title work,” she said slowly, not taking satisfaction in it, but instead feeling a strong sense of calm. Relief, almost. Because in this brief, five-minute phone call, Bill had confirmed every suspicion she'd had about her marriage. And her husband.