Bound to the Past (Starville Series Book 1) (10 page)

She thought about it for a long moment before nodding. “Iʼll have to ask Jack first, but I think itʼs a great idea. Letʼs meet at my place, though. It might be a little less uncomfortable for him.”

“Sure.” Nicky grimaced. “But let me be the one who tells Brent about this whole thing. Iʼm more used to his bluster than you are.”

***

Saraʼs heart jumped in her chest as the doorbell rang at exactly seven p.m.

It was ridiculous. Sheʼd never been so nervous before spending a fun night with her friends. Tonight, however, everything was different. She felt almost as if Jack were her boyfriend and she were about to introduce him to her parents, already knowing they would detest him.

How stupid was that?

She shot a quick look toward the den, where Jack was using the computer. He had reluctantly accepted the idea of having Brent and Nicky over for dinner, but she had a feeling that the only reason he hadnʼt said no was because he was a guest in her house. According to Nicky, Brent hadnʼt been much more enthusiastic about the prospect of spending the evening with the possible killer of his fatherʼs best friend.

The doorbell rang again. Drawing a deep breath, Sara walked to the door and opened it. Nicky was the first to walk in, followed by a very dark-looking Brent.

“Hmm. It smells incredible in here. I thought we were supposed to order pizza?” she said cheerfully as they stepped into the living room. Sara almost hugged her for pretending everything was normal.

“I thought we could nibble on something while we waited.”

“Something, huh? Honey, this could feed an army!” Her friend laughed, pointing at the full trays of appetizers placed on the coffee table.

Sara looked away, embarrassed. Nicky was right, but cooking relaxed her, and sheʼd desperately needed to calm down.

Brent sat on the couch without saying a word, and she handed him a beer. “Brent, I know youʼre upset…” Her words trailed off as Jack suddenly appeared in the doorway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He looked even more uncomfortable than she felt as he limped into the living room and stopped by the couch.

“Hello, everyone.”

“Hey, Jack. Howʼre you doing?” Nicky asked with a smile.

“Much better, thanks.”

Brent jerked his chin toward him but barely looked in his direction. Saraʼs heart shrank. “Iʼm going to call for the pizza,” she announced, dejected. Nicky hurried to follow her to the kitchen. “Iʼll help you get the plates.”

Alone in the living room, the two men studied each other in silence. Finally, Brent grabbed the remote and turned the TV on.

Jack sat warily beside him, his injured leg stretched in front of him. When heʼd met Saraʼs friends at the hospital a couple of days before, heʼd found them nice and friendly. Of course, back then he hadn’t known he was an ex-convict accused of murder—and he hadn’t been living with Sara. Tonight things were different, and Brentʼs hostility was more than obvious. Not that he could blame him. While he was extremely grateful to Sara for all the help she was offering him, even he thought that giving hospitality to a stranger with a dark past like his was irresponsible. He turned to Brent with a sigh. “Look,” he started, but stopped as the man raised a hand.

“Save it, Turner. We both know that I donʼt approve of this situation, and Iʼm not hypocritical enough to pretend I do.”

“Iʼm not asking for your approval, nor do I care about it,” Jack retorted defensively. “Youʼre not Saraʼs father.”

A disgusted look spread over Brentʼs face. “I donʼt expect someone like you to understand the value of friendship. But I do love Sara, and I will not let you hurt her. Sheʼs a sweet girl who loves helping those in need and thinks of you as a helpless victim right now. But I donʼt buy it. Iʼve known you for too long to pretend the past never existed, and while I canʼt stop Sara, Iʼll tell you one thing: hurt her and I promise youʼll regret coming back here.”

They studied each other in a tense, challenging silence. As determination flashed across Brentʼs eyes, Jack knew that he meant every word he said. And, again, he couldnʼt blame him. Blowing out another sigh, he leaned his head against the back of the couch. “Believe it or not, hurting Sara is the very last thing that would ever cross my mind.”

Instead of answering, Brent took a big swallow of his beer and peered at him over the bottle.

“Iʼm horrified at the thought of what I might have done in the past,” Jack continued in one breath, “but unfortunately, thereʼs not much I can do about it at the moment. I have no idea what happened ten years ago or why I decided to come back here after all this time. All I know is that Iʼm here now, Iʼve had the luck of meeting someone like Sara, and for whatever reason, sheʼs wanting to help me get back on my feet. I wonʼt let anybody interfere with whatʼs between the two of us, but I can assure you that I would die before hurting her.”

Brent kept quiet for what felt like forever, his sharp gray eyes glaring into his. When he finally spoke, his voice wasnʼt more than a whisper. “I suggest a truce. For Saraʼs sake.”

Jack nodded. As if in mutual agreement, they both focused their attention on the game playing on the screen.

***

Sara walked into the living room expecting the worst and almost couldnʼt believe her eyes when she saw Jack and Brent sitting together on the couch. Relief made her knees so weak she nearly tripped on her way to the couch. Whatever had happened while she and Nicky were in the kitchen, the tension between the two men seemed to have eased up a little.

“The pizza will be here in about half an hour.”

Brent pressed a hand to his flat stomach. “Good. Iʼm starving!”

“Ugh. Iʼve been nibbling on Saraʼs appetizers for over an hour,” Jack replied with a grimace, making Nicky laugh as she dipped a nacho chip into the salsa.

“Donʼt mention it. I swear I must have gained at least twenty pounds when Sara and I were living together.”

Sara scowled at her. “Thatʼs so not true! Besides, you wouldnʼt gain an ounce if you wanted to.”

Sliding a look at Nickyʼs bare legs, Brent silently grabbed a nacho himself and popped it into his mouth.

“I didnʼt know you and Sara used to live together,” Jack commented with surprise.

“Oh, it was a couple of years ago. I was looking for a place closer to work, and she offered to let me stay at her house. We had lots of fun―didnʼt we, Sara?”

“Please, donʼt remind me.” She chuckled. “I swear you must be the messiest, most unorganized cop ever.”

“Hey, itʼs not my fault if youʼre a clean-freak!”

“Not to mention that horrid coffee of yours.” Sara shuddered, and this time Brent couldnʼt help shaking his head as he elbowed Jack.

“Multiply this by a thousand, and youʼll have an idea of what I had to go through all those months. Although itʼs true, her coffee does suck.”

“It does not!”

Jack forced a smile at Nickyʼs indignant exclamation, but it didnʼt reach his eyes.
I was looking for a place, and Sara offered to let me stay at her house...
Sara was doing the same thing for him now. Brent was right, she was a sweet and caring woman who always tried to help the ones in need―whether they were injured dogs, blind cats, or ex-convicts. Maybe she really just thought of him as a
helpless victim
, as heʼd said.

Damned if he didnʼt fit the mold.

“Would you like a beer, Jack?”

He nodded at Saraʼs question. “Yeah, thanks. Iʼll get it myself, though.” He stood up, grateful to have an excuse to leave the room and be alone for a few minutes. In the kitchen, he pulled out a beer from the fridge and took a big swallow, then perched against the counter with a sigh. He was relieved that he and Brent seemed to have reached an understanding, but, at the same time, their conversation had caused the fragile sand castle he had built in his mind to collapse miserably. When he was alone with Sara, it was easy for him to forget about his past and pretend to be a normal person. Tonight, however, the reality was crashing over him faster than he could stand. The fact that Sara had asked him to stay at her place meant nothing. And while he was grateful for her generosity, somehow that just didnʼt seem to be enough for him.

“Would you pass me one, too, please?”

Jack snapped his head up to shoot Sara a surprised look. “Sure,” he said uncomfortably, opening the fridge and handing her a bottle. Hell, he hadnʼt even heard her walk into the kitchen!

She squeezed the bottle in her hands. “Iʼm sorry about Brent. Heʼs very protective of me.”

“He hasnʼt done anything I wouldnʼt have in his place. Heʼs a good friend.” As soon as he said that, it hit him that, all this time, heʼd assumed that Brent and Sara were just friends. But what if they were something more? Maybe that was the reason Brent had been so infuriated with him?

“How long have you known him?” he asked.

“About four years. Nicky and I became friends right after I moved to Starville, and I met Brent soon after that, since they work together.”

Jack nodded without comment. Sara frowned, not sure what to make of his dark expression. She was starting to know him well enough to understand when something was wrong…and something seemed to be very wrong right now.

“Are you ready to go back to the living room? Brent and Nicky must be wondering what happened to us,” she said tentatively.

Jack didnʼt move.

“Sara, I know itʼs probably a little too late to ask, but―” He paused to set his bottle on the counter, then turned back to her, arms crossed over his chest. “Are you involved with Brent? Or anybody else, for that matter?”

Her mouth shot open in a gasp. Closed. Opened again. “I canʼt believe you just asked me that!”

“What?” Jack lifted a brow at her, clearly surprised by her reaction.

She stared at him for a few moments, then shook her head. “I donʼt know what kind of disreputable women youʼre used to, Jack Turner, but I can assure you that I donʼt usually go around inviting strangers into my house—especially men!―and I certainly wouldnʼt talk about kissing them if I were in a relationship with someone else!”

A hint of a smirk tweaked his lips. “Thatʼs not what I meant at all.”

“ʼCourse not,” Sara rolled her eyes. “Then what
did
you mean?”

Jack didnʼt reply, but the way he let his eyes roam down her body and back up again unnerved her to no end. Suddenly, he stretched an arm and took the beer from her hands.

“What…are you doing?” she asked as he set it beside his on the counter.

“I didnʼt trust the way you were squeezing that bottle―as if wishing it were my neck.”

His candid answer seemed to melt her anger, and she couldnʼt help giving a nervous chuckle. “I would never wring your neck. Though I was pretty tempted to dump that beer on your head.”

“I donʼt doubt it for a second.” Jack grinned. A funny feeling slid through Saraʼs chest as he took her hand and pulled her closer, and she wished he wouldnʼt look at her so intensely.
Darn him and those magnetic eyes of his!
Would she ever tire of looking into them? Embarrassed, she dropped her gaze…and thatʼs when she realized that she was standing practically against his lap, squeezed between his thighs.

Crap
. Her legs turned to jelly as she suddenly became all too aware of the hard bulge inside his jeans, pressing against her stomach. “So, what did you mean?” she made herself ask in a whisper.

Jack nudged her chin up to look at her face. Her eyes were so huge that he just about drowned in their beautiful, cinnamon-brown depths. Funny, though, heʼd never noticed that hint of gold around the pupils, before.

“I―” His gaze automatically drifted to Saraʼs mouth as she worried at her lower lip. His train of thought lost, he watched in fascination as the tip of her tongue darted nervously across her full, pink lips.

“Jack?”

Huh?
He slowly dragged his eyes away from her mouth and glanced up to give her a blank stare.
Oh, shit.
Was she still waiting for an answer? Swallowing, he gave what he hoped looked like a casual shrug. “I guess I didnʼt want to create trouble between the two of you if you guys were together.”

“Weʼre not. Heʼs like a brother to me.”

Jack ran a thumb across her cheek in what was supposed to be a friendly gesture―but then he couldnʼt resist trailing it across her luscious bottom lip. A whispered “Good,” came out of his mouth, and before he knew it, he was leaning slightly into her.

His warm breath caressed her lips, sending long shivers through Saraʼs whole body. Her belly fluttered. She knew he was about to kiss her. She could feel it. She expected it. She even closed her eyes and tilted her head back in anticipation. Yet when his lips brushed over hers, light as a butterflyʼs wings, shock paralyzed her. She just stood there, barely breathing, petrified by her own bodyʼs reactions.

Jack lifted his head back up almost immediately. Sara mewled with disappointment at the abrupt loss of his mouth and opened her eyes to meet his gaze, blazing and inquisitive as he scanned her expression. Before her disoriented mind could start forming a coherent thought, he bent his head and crushed his mouth down on hers.

There was no hesitation this time, nothing gentle or tentative―just a raw, feverish desire that sent heat pouring into her stomach like liquid fire as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his hard body. In a daze, she felt his hand slip into her hair and his tongue brush lightly over her lower lip in a silent demand to deepen the kiss, and
… Aw, hell!
Sara blew out a surrendering sigh and leaned against him, sliding her arms around him and parting her lips to welcome his invasion.

Jack thrust deep inside her mouth, claiming it with the same savage possession his hands claimed her body with, sliding underneath her shirt. Sara gasped in his mouth as he stroked her bare back. Her hand curled around his nape to pull him closer. As if empowered by her reaction, he slowly moved a hand forward to her midriff, spreading his fingers on her ribcage…then higher still, until his palm brushed lightly over her breast. Sara gave a soft moan, shocked at the sensation.
Sweet heavens!
Her skin seemed to burn where he touched.
The breath that was already trapped in her throat nearly choked her completely the instant his thumb started tracing languid circles around her nipple. The room spun, and she swayed against him, clutching at his shoulders to keep from falling. Not that she complained―Jackʼs body felt so hard, hot, and solid against hers that she just ached to rub herself against him. Nothing seemed to exist around them anymore. She was surely about to either liquefy or catch fire, and still, it all felt perfect. The whole situation was completely surreal, yet nothing had ever felt so right before….