“How so?”
“I could’ve refused Nadine as a client, but I thought it was bad for business to choose sides. Personally, I always chose Georgia.”
“Were you upset about what she said to you?” He set his coffee down and leaned forward when I didn’t answer right away. “I’m not here as a cop. I’m trying to be a…” He paused for a few moments as he searched for the right term. “Friend,” he finally said.
“Friend,” I repeated, testing the word on my tongue. The thing was, I couldn’t be sure I even liked Gabe, so friendship wasn’t something I really wanted from him. I chose to ignore it and answer his damn question for fear I’d give myself a goddamned migraine if I thought too hard. “I wasn’t worried,” I told him, but I had already said that earlier in the day. “She would’ve forgiven me. I was going to make it up to her.”
Gabe looked at me for a few seconds before he picked up his coffee and took another sip. “Look, I’ve been wanting to say something to you for quite some time now and…”
“Don’t.” My words were firm and resolute, to the point that he jerked back a bit in his seat. “I know you want to apologize for what you were about to say the night you came by after Bianca was killed. I’ve seen the apology in your eyes many times, but I honestly don’t want to hear it.” His mouth dropped open in surprise so I took advantage. “I wish I could tell you it’s water under the bridge, but it’s not. By now you’ve learned it’s a very sore subject for me. Guys like you…” I broke off because I was stereotyping just like he’d done to me because I’m leaner than most men, there’s a sway to my hips when I walk, and I’m vibrant. To a lot of men, that made me feminine and it pissed me off. “You know what, it doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter, Josh,” Gabe said. “I hurt your feelings and Iamsorry for it. I’m not going to bullshit you by pretending I wasn’t going to say it or that I didn’t mean it at the time, because I did. That’s not what I was going to apologize about.”Kudos for honesty.
“Then what are you sorry for?” I asked, tilting my head to the side in puzzlement.
He rose to his feet and set his coffee cup down. “For being narrow-minded.”
“Oh,” was my awe-inspiring response. Gabe Wyatt had done something that not many had over my lifetime; he rendered me speechless.
“I’m going to show myself out now. You’ve had a traumatic day so you stay up here and rest. I’ll lock the door behind me.” He nodded his head when I sat there staring mutely at him. “Okay then, I’ll see you around.” He made it to the top of the stairs before I finally found my voice.
“Detective,” I called out. He stopped and looked over his shoulder at me. “Do you really think I’m dangerous?” Did he really think that I could hurt another person? I needed to know.
“Not to anyone but me,” Gabe said in response. His mouth quirked up in a half-smile before he descended the steps.
My heart pounded in my chest and my brain throbbed over the possibility of his words. Did he mean that I was dangerous to hisheart? Couldn’t be! It had to be my low blood sugar playing tricks on me. And if Ididunderstand him correctly? Then what?
THE SKY OPENED ANDreleased a torrent of cold rain as soon as I was inside my car. I had almost walked the two blocks to Josh’s house, but I was glad that I didn’t when my wipers couldn’t keep my windshield clear on max speed. Rather than risk an accident, I pulled over and decided to wait until the rain let up a bit.
I would’ve normally groaned about the cold rain, but I was still buzzing from being in Josh’s presence and not being on the receiving end of his cutting tongue. For once, things weren’t tense and awkward between us. Weird feelings stirred within me when he handed me my coffee and it was made exactly how I liked. It meant he had been paying attention to me and I liked that a lot - more than a simple act warranted. It made me feel bolder, gave me courage to speak up.
Did I just flirt with Josh?I did and I shocked him so much that his mouth gaped open and no words came out. That was a first. Usually he was the one who left me tongue tied. Of course, my mind immediately went to the gutter, remembering the way our tongues tangled during our hot kisses then switched to figuring out how to get more of them.
The truth was Josh had me completely enthralled with him. It went beyond his looks because I had seen him many times before, but the way I responded to him was different. I wasn’t in love with the guy. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I liked him. There was something about him that captured my attention the first time he opened his mouth and blasted me with his sarcasm. Josh was prickly, untouchable, and carried a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas. And damned if I didn’t want to knock that chip off then soothe and touch him everywhere. I decided it was straight-up lust. If so, it would fade over time and I could get back to solid footing instead of feeling like my equilibrium was fucked up.
The way he stood up to me and smarted off to me was something I wasn’t used to seeing and it turned me on beyond sanity.What kind of guy wants someone who doesn’t want them back?I mean, I’ve seen that behavior before and I always shook my head in confusion, but, yet, there I was in the same boat. I craved Josh Roman like an illicit drug. Why? Because he was a challenge? Because he was completely different from any guy I had ever dated? I didn’t have the answers to my own questions.
All I knew was he sparked something inside me that I didn’t want to squelch. That one afternoon I spent with him showed me that something huge had been missing in my life for a long time – passion. I had loved Kyle deeply, I truly had. Our sex life for the first year and a half of our relationship had been stellar, in my opinion. Things had slowly fizzled out between us and I had blamed our careers and the time apart, but even when we were together we lacked spark. Sex had been more perfunctory, as if we were going through the motions, by the time our relationship ended.
I felt guilty thinking about Kyle in those terms, but it was true. Even after our cordial breakup – and it had been very amicable – we still hooked up a few times because it was easier and safer to have sex together than go looking for it with strangers. At the time, I thought it was no big deal. We weren’t hurting anyone and we both got what we needed, but I was wrong. We were hurting ourselves by not going out and finding someone more suitable for us.
Sure, Kyle and I had a lot in common, but we didn’t push each other to become better. We didn’t spark an insane need to be inside one another. Playing it safe with our emotions wasn’t going to enrich our lives on any level and I suddenly wanted that for myself at thirty-five years old.
I wasn’t implying that Josh was “the one” I would grow old with, but I knew he was “the one” I wanted to take a chance on – if only he could find a way to like me after I botched things. I had tried on numerous occasions to apologize to him. I was glad that he never let it happen and that I had to force my words on him that night. Truthfully, my earlier apologies would’ve been based on my guilt rather than any kind of enlightenment. I meant what I told him that evening.
I had been narrow-minded in my thinking and I failed to recognize that beauty exists in more places than just ripped muscles, chest hair, and deep voices. I don’t know when I changed, or how, but I suspected it was just something about Josh himself that had me sitting up straight and taking notice. I admired his long, lean frame and the fluid way his body moved while walking, dancing, and fucking. Josh had appropriately proportioned muscles to fit his frame and the smoothest skin that I had ever felt. I discovered I really liked the difference in our bodies - from our heights, to our skin tones, to our weight. I never once thought of his attributes as feminine when I had him in my arms and in my bed. I had been a judgmental ass and I was determined to prove that my old way of thinking was well and truly in my past.
The rain let up and became just a downpour instead of a monsoon. Since the visibility had improved, I drove the rest of the way home. I ran from my car to my house faster than I did when I was trying out for first string tight end for my varsity football team in high school. I worked hard during the off season in the gym and on the track to gain physical strength and speed. It was something I wanted really bad and I worked for it.
I knew I needed that same dedication if I was going to win Josh over.Win him over?I shook my head - more from my surprising thoughts than from my drenched hair - as I unlocked my door and let myself into my house. A cold chill permeated my body so I kicked the furnace up a notch and decided to make another cup of coffee.
Once I warmed up, my thoughts went right back to Josh and I began to catalog the differences I noticed in him since the night of his attack. The first thing that stuck out to me was that he had grown a beard that was a shade or two darker than his platinum hair. I liked the way it looked on him; I liked it a lot. I wanted to run my fingers over it to see if it was soft or bristly, then I wanted to feel it against other parts of my body.
The wariness in his eyes when he looked at me had also faded, somewhat. It was still there, but not as strong. It used to be that his wariness lingered in his eyes longer than the annoyance or dislike he felt for me. He still had his reservations about me, but they weren’t as strong.
On some level, he knew he could trust me because I was the one he called the night of the attack, not 911. I suspected that he had put my number in his phone rather than pull out my business card from his wallet. That was precious time he didn’t have that night.
A shiver worked through me as I recalled just how close he had come to dying. Shooting and killing a man wasn’t something I enjoyed, even if he was a cold-blooded killer. I still relived that night for a solid month in my sleep and had to work with the police psychologist to make sure I was still capable of doing my job. I had a support system, but did Josh who was on the receiving end of the attack?
