Spirited 1 (16 page)

The skin on his hand burned. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d been doused with the coffee at first. Now that the shock wore off, the pain radiated.

“You might want to put some cold water on that,” Jules and Theresa said in unison. He grimaced as his daughter lapsed into a nervous giggle.

The tender flesh between his right thumb and forefinger reddened and grew spotty. He shook his hand in a futile effort to soothe the burn.

“I’m so sorry, Dad.” Theresa glanced back at the deli counter and added, “I’ll get you some ice.” And she was gone.

“Wow, you look like you’re going to blister if you don’t take care of that fast.” Jules grabbed his hand and held it between her slender, cool fingers. Then she glanced at his wrist watch. “Oh, I hate to say this. But I really need to go.”

“Now?” He frowned. Her sudden desire to bolt temporarily distracted him from the pain. “We haven’t even had lunch yet.”

“I know but . . .” Jules glanced around the room as if searching for an escape. “I need to be at the shop. I lost half a day yesterday. I-I really need to get back to work.”

“Why the sudden need to leave?”

A line dug between her eyebrows. “I’ve been out with you for over an hour.”

Seth glanced at his watch in surprise. She was right. They’d left the shop more than ninety minutes earlier.

“Oh. Right.” Seth shook his head. No wonder she was trying to leave. “Look, have some pizza and I’ll take you back to the shop after I take care of this.” He glanced down to his hand still in hers.

“I really don’t have time to wait.” As if realizing she still held his hand, Jules suddenly released it.

Without her touch, the heat seemed to engulf his flesh. Excusing himself, Seth hurried to the washroom. After five minutes with his hand under the cold running water, his gut quivered warningly. He just knew when he went back to the table, Jules would be gone.

He wasn’t wrong.

Theresa returned with a plastic baggie of ice in her hand and a frown pulling between her eyebrows. “Daddy, your friend asked me to tell you she caught a cab back to work. She said she’ll see you
later
.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Kissing her on the top of her head he said, “I’ll see you for dinner next Sunday?”

“Yes, Daddy.” She hugged him. “If you want, you can bring her along. She’s . . . nice.”

“Theresa.” He closed his eyes briefly then grinned at her. Clearly his daughter was as much of a matchmaker as her grandmother. “It’s supposed to be just family.”

“I know but Yia Yia invited Jovani. So I bet your friend would be welcomed too,” she blurted, then hurried away before he could reply.

The last thing he wanted to do was deal with Theresa’s fiancé and Jules at his mother’s house during Sunday dinner. Now that was an image guaranteed to cause a brain implosion.

Compartmentalizing the unwanted picture, he focused on dealing with his more pressing situation. Keeping the ice on his injured hand, he pulled out his cell, and dialed his partner.

“This is Detective Jones.”

“Any more luck with having our tattoo artist track down his receipts?” Guilt flickered through Seth. He probably should have started with hello or something more civil. But he pushed away the thought. He’d spent the last five years repairing his reputation, and in doing so, became known as a hardass. He had no intention of letting his persona slip now.

“None.” Jones answered, taciturn as usual.

“I need you to go over to the florist shop and keep an eye on the staff. Make note of who is coming and going.” Seth thought about it and added, “And keep an eye on our new friend. She says she doesn’t know anything, but she does. Even if she doesn’t realize it. Oh, and I need you to send a photo of the vic to my cell.”

“Will do, but why the photo?”

“Because I believe Jules met the victim before her death.” He ended the call without giving Jones time to comment. Not that he expected the kid would.

Seth needed to stop at his apartment and change before he saw Jules again. This was becoming a bad habit. It might be easier to go naked around her.

And there went his libido again. He tried to ignore it. Tried to convince himself the anticipation licking through his veins had nothing to do with sex. It was only because he was certain she was involved with the case. It had nothing to do with the idea of seeing her again.

Or sex.

Or her purple bra.

Yeah. Right.

CHAPTER 8

J
ULES FROWNED AT
her purse under the counter at April’s Flowers.

Why she was still carrying it around, she didn’t know. It made her nervous having such an expensive item with her. Plus, after talking to Seth about it at the restaurant, she realized it was time to just let go of the past. Her marriage to Billy had been a mistake. Keeping the reminder, even boxed as it had been, wasn’t helping her to move on with her life.

She stared at it and wondered if she should just donate it.

Picking up the black clutch, she traced the letters emblazoned on the front with her index finger. Startled, she traced them again. Although white letters spelled out P-R-A-D-A, someone had blackened the “O” then artfully emblazoned an “A” over it.

“That creep!” No wonder Billy had insisted she keep the purse even after she’d turned down his reconciliation request. He knew it was a fake.

All this time, she’d kept it carefully preserved in the Amazon.com box it had arrived in. Now she wondered how she had managed not to notice sooner that it was a Prada knockoff. Turning it over, she carefully examined it. Furious at first, she couldn’t help but laugh.

At least she hadn’t forgiven him.

She tossed it lightly under the counter, then jumped when it hit the wood paneling with an audible thunk.

“About time you got back.” Diana stomped across the floor in her combat boots. “Miss April said to tell you she’ll meet you at home tonight for the special dinner.”

Momentarily confused by the girl’s words, Jules hesitated. “What? Oh, that’s right. She’s making her
lasagna de April
tonight. Are you coming to dinner too?”

“I want to, but I can’t.” Diana sighed and grimaced before continuing to the front window. She dug into a bucket of Halloween decorations. “I have choir tonight and if I miss another rehearsal my mom’ll freak.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll save you some pasta.”

“Thanks.” Diana smiled then turned back to the window. “What do you think?” Diana set down a witch and two doll-sized scarecrows on coffin-shaped boxes.

Before Jules could respond, Diana yelled, “Wait! Don’t look yet!”

She darted forward, rearranged the scarecrows and the witch several times, dangled one scarecrow by an arm and a leg, then retreated a step to examine her work again. A wide grin on her face, she opened her arms in a very showroom-girl style, indicating her window dressing masterpiece.

“Very nice.” It wasn’t just nice. It was brilliant. Jules never would have thought to hang the dolls like that. It was both aesthetically pleasing and eye-catching. “Looks like you’ve been busy here without me.”

“Actually, I started it yesterday while you were Dumpster diving,” Diana replied. “Why were you doing that, anyway?”

“I heard my cell ringing.” Jules didn’t want to think about being in the garbage bin. Ever again.

“Did you lose it or something?”

“No, I just tossed it in there so I could swim in rotting lo mien. Everyone’s doing it,” Jules replied with a grin.

“It’s true? Garbage is the new vintage?” Diana snorted. “I didn’t know you were so hip.”

“That’s me. Hip.” Jules laughed in spite of herself. And this was why she liked Diana so much, her ability to find the humor in most anything. Answering the earlier question, she said, “Yes, Diana. I lost my phone. You know, the phone the police have.”

“OMG!” As if suddenly remembering something, Diana slapped a hand to her forehead then giggled. “The hottie cop left you a message. I don’t know how I forgot. I mean that guy is H-O-T. Who could forget a man who looks like that being here? Then again, he’s no Jake Gyllenhall. Now, if
he
walked in here—”

“
Diana
, what did the cop want?” Jules asked. Her heart raced. How had Seth beat her back to the shop?

“Oh, right. Well, Mr. HC has been by twice to see you. At least, that’s the excuse he gave. But I think he likes me. KWIM?”

KWIM? Ah. Know what I mean.

With effort, Jules didn’t smile.

Diana was about the same age as Seth’s daughter. Somehow she doubted Seth would be attracted to a Goth teen who spoke in text-speech.

“Officer Masculine Perfection is back!” Diana shoved the box of remaining decorations into a corner and raced behind the counter. She hopped up and down, then turned to face Jules. Even the heavy ivory powder couldn’t disguise the flush on Diana’s cheeks. “How do I look?”

“Great.” Jules grinned and yanked on an apron, determined not to stare at the front door. Instead, she watched Diana, who busied herself at the cash register and pretended not to watch for the man to arrive.

Masculine Perfection.

Jules had to agree with Diana’s description. Her neighbor, with his amber skin, rock-hard abs, husky voice, and sinfully sexy eyes, defined masculine perfection. Glancing down at her apron, she kept her eyes anywhere but on the door as the bell chimed. She may have been enormously attracted to the man, but there was no need to show it.

After all, he
was
the most narrow-minded, conclusion-jumping-to clod she’d ever met in her life, as he had proved the night they met.

Or not.

He definitely wasn’t all bad. He did love his mother enough to wear the gifts she gave him. And while many teen fathers accepted little responsibility for the children they created, Seth obviously adored his daughter. And she him.

Plus, he’d been kind to Jules. Considering she had ruined his shoes and probably his slacks, he could have made her feel guilty. Instead, he’d taken her out to his family’s restaurant to eat.

Where she promptly ran away as fast as she could, the moment she realized she was softening toward him. No. He wasn’t the clod.

She was.

“Feelin’ better, Jules?” asked a deep-timbre voice from the other side of the counter.

“Pardon?” Jules glanced up in surprise to see a huge man with sandy blond hair and light mocha skin. She squelched the disappointment in her belly that Mr. HC wasn’t Seth and smiled at the man in front of her. “Hello.”

“Remember me?” Brows drew together over blue gray eyes.

“Sorry, I’m afraid I don’t. Should I?”

She stared hard, trying to place him. He seemed vaguely familiar. An image of her little sister Shelley, as she might have looked as an adult, flashed through Jules’s mind.

Weird.

“My partner’s Detective English,” he said.

Built like a defensive back, he radiated an air of calm and quiet even as he fingered the gold badge dangling from his black suit jacket.

“Right. Of course.” She smiled at him and extended a hand. “Yes, I feel much better. Um, I didn’t catch your name . . . ?”

“Detective Devon Jones,” he answered. “Dev.”

“Nice to meet you, Detective Jones.”

He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Dev.”

Despite his seemingly easygoing demeanor, Jules had the impression
Dev
was accustomed to being in control. An authoritative air wound around him and made her slightly nervous.

Like Seth, this man definitely met her three
H
rule. But Jules wasn’t attracted to him. Perhaps she was getting smarter. Or maybe she had somehow found a way to turn off her instant attraction for men in law enforcement. More likely it was because her radar had already pinged hard on her unattainable neighbor, who
hadn’t
shown up in the shop looking for her.

“My partner asked me to check on you,” he said, leaning his arms on the counter between them. “You gave us quite a scare yesterday.”

“I’m fine,” she answered, her cheeks warmed at the memory of yesterday’s catastrophe.

Diana giggled and he glanced over at her. She licked her black-painted lips and arched a brow at the man.

Dang! Jules should have realized the girl wouldn’t be interested in someone old enough to be her father, but this guy . . . Old enough to be “mature” and young enough to still be hot.

The man’s pupils dilated as he glanced from Diana to her and back again. He blew out a heavy sigh and an inscrutable expression crossed his face. It could have been lust or it could have just been gas. Either way, he needed to go.

“Detective Jones.” Jules drew his attention away from the tittering girl. “I’m fine, as you can see.”

For a brief instant, when their gazes locked, Jules sensed something coming from him. Dim and vague though it was, it plucked at her proverbial heartstrings. Loneliness and the need for something that had nothing to do with being a police officer shone in his eyes. It was personal. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she did.

He stretched out a hand and reached for her. For reasons she couldn’t understand herself, she allowed him to touch her. With her hand in his, his need became definable.