Drawing The Line (9 page)

Or was that attraction
?

“It’
s the same thing.” Serenity grabbed at a breath to modulate her reply into something less ridiculous than her thoughts. “The chopping, I mean. I bet you can hit the center of that target without even thinking twice, right?”

“I’d kind of suck at my job if I couldn’t.” With the table ready for dinner, he crossed
the floor to stand next to her.

She eased the still-warm potatoes into an oversized bowl, addi
ng the parsley and eyeballing some salt and pepper into the mix. “And you don’t even think twice about it, do you? You can aim and shoot and hit the center of the target just like breathing or driving a car.”

“Being able to shoot accurately is part of my job.”

“And good knife skills are part of mine.”

Serenity finished assembling the meal, giving her war
m potato salad a drizzle of balsamic and olive oil before stirring it all to perfection. Under normal circumstances, she’d plow through the stuff like a lumberjack, but under the current stress-soaked conditions, her appetite had pulled a definite Houdini.

Ironic, since she’d c
ooked enough in the last few days to feed an entire platoon.

She dished up healthy-sized portions of both the sandwiches and potato salad for Jason, making herself an identical plate in the hopes that the sight of the food might kic
k-start her love affair with carbs and bacon back into gear. But rather than letting Serenity bring the plates to the table, Jason took them from her, gesturing for her to sit.

“Can’t say I’m really used to that,” she said,
indicating the table with a thankful tilt of her head.

“
And I can’t say I’m really used to having someone cook for me. It’s the least I can do.”

Silence
cropped up between them, punctuated only by the soft sounds of the meal being eaten and the rustle of fabric as Jason pushed the sleeves of his dark blue button-down shirt over his forearms. They’d kept things politely distanced ever since he’d given her the bold-faced truth, and while Serenity appreciated the direct route, there was one teensy problem.

She ran a diner, which meant she was used to interaction in large doses. If Jason kept up with this whole
just the facts ma’am
thing, she was going to come one-hundred percent grade-A unglued.

“So
do they teach the paper target thing right off the bat at the police academy, or did you have to work up to it?” Okay, so it was pretty lame as far as conversation kindling went, but at least she hadn’t mentioned the weather.

And even better, Jason bit. “I did over a hundred hours of firearms training as a recruit, but it was kind of cheating. I already knew how to shoot when I got there.”

Surprise skated through her, and she lowered her fork to the rough-hewn kitchen table. “Not exactly a common life skill for someone just out of college.”

The wide, easy grin she hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of since Saturday made a guest appearance,
streaking through her with instant heat. “It is when your father’s on the force. My dad taught both me and Violet how to shoot when we were seventeen.”

“He taught your sister
marksmanship?”

“Yup.
Of the three of us, she was the best shot, too. My father would even put her targets up on the corkboard by our fridge. God, she never let me live it down.” Jason shook his head like he hadn’t called up the memory for a while, but anyone with eyes could see it their family wasn’t just a see-you-at-the-holidays affair.

Serenity couldn’t help but match his smile. “Is she still better than you? Or did all that training finally give you an edge?”
   

“I don’t know.
” His voice downgraded along with his expression, but only by a notch. “Violet hasn’t gone to the range since our father was killed seven years ago.”

The fork she’d just picked back up dropped to her plate with a clatter. “Oh God, Jason. I’m sorry.” He’d mentioned the other day it was just him and his sister, but jeez. Talk about shoving your foot in your mouth.

“Thank you, but it’s okay. He wouldn’t want people to tiptoe around mentioning him just because of what happened.”

Jason’s expression was so laid back, so impossible to read
, that it smacked into Serenity all at once. He might’ve let the words out, but how he felt about them was still locked up tighter than a high-security bank vault. And while she might not get the family dynamic thing from a blood-relation standpoint, she knew what it was like to care about people— and miss them— all the way down to her bones.

“Well
, you’re in luck, detective. I love a good story. And as it turns out, I have nothing but time.”

#

Jason gazed up at the shadowy ceiling in his safe house bedroom. Clasped firmly between the foggy haze of a food coma and the relaxing drift of half-sleep. What was supposed to have been a perfunctory meal had turned into a three and a half hour conversation, complete with the swapping of family anecdotes, several helpings of the most insane cherry pie on the planet, and so much laughter, his sides hurt just thinking about it.

He knew getting up close and personal with Serenity
headlined the list of Very Bad Ideas, especially with this arraignment in less than nine hours. But the way she’d taken a potentially awkward conversation and treated it with serious, genuine interest had been all Jason needed to open his mouth and let the stories tumble right out.

With just the two of them in
that warm little kitchen, there hadn’t been any pressure to cover things up, to gloss over anything with a joke or an evasive maneuver. He hadn’t needed to explain his devotion to work because Serenity was equally dedicated to Mac’s, and the conversation had flowed because of it. Talking with her had been easier than the last ten dates he’d been on, combined.

Shit. This was a Very,
Very
Bad Idea.

Jason rolled over, closing his eyes and
reciting statutes from the New York Penal Code until his mind gave in and finally start to float. Exhaustion won the battle for his consciousness, and he exhaled into that first delicious sliver of twilight sleep…

A shrill scream ripped through the house, and
Jason was on his feet with his Glock in his hand before he’d even registered his eyes flying open.

Fighting the needle-sharp urge to rip a path down the hall like a cyclone, he placed his free hand on the bedroom doorknob, listening for a beat before swinging it silently open. The darkened hallway was clear, and his gut bottomed out at the sight of Serenity’s wide-open bedroom door. More silence rushed around him, and damn it, he couldn’t risk taking a shot at anything in the dark.

“Serenity?” He put as much gravel
to his voice as he could work up, an uncut flood of relief pulsing through him as she answered.

“I’m in the kitchen. I saw…I saw someone outside.”

“Okay. Don’t move. I’m coming.”

D
ropping his Glock low to his side but still ready to use it if necessary, Jason’s strides ate up the space between the hallway and the kitchen. Serenity stood, rigid and unmoving, on the kitchen floorboards, her sight trained on the window over the sink.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I got up for a drink of water. I saw…I thought…there was a face in the window, but…”

Jason did a quick scan of the yard, flipping the flood light to double check the lawn in its entirety. “It’s clear, but I’m still going to call it in. Can you tell me what he looked like?” He walked back over to her, and Christ, she was shaking like she’d been left in a blizzard wearing nothing but a bikini.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know. I really thought I saw someone, but how could he have moved so fast? Maybe…I don’t know…”

He guided her down the hallway, pausing only to grab his cell phone from his bedside table and call in a covert patrol of the area. “Okay. There’s a unit really close by, and they’re going to double check the entire perimeter, just in case.”

Serenity’s eyes flashed, dark and wide with residual fear. “It was probably nothing. I feel ridiculous for waking you up. My brain is just on overdrive, and—”

“And you did the right thing. I’m going to do a full sweep of the house and check in with the responding unit as soon as they’re done. Let me start with your room so you can go back to bed.”

“Are you kidding? I’m
not going to fall asleep again until I’m forty,” she said, her chin lifting up into that defiant expression that canceled out the fear on her face. “If you’re checking the place out, I’m going with you.”

Something dark and proprietary lurched behind Jason’s sternum, and he reached out to put a hand on her arm as if the gentle move would stay her. “No, you’re not. We’re following protocol on this, period. You stay in a secure location within the house. If you hear anything out of the ordinary,
call 911 and barricade yourself in.”

“So I can be a well-protected sitting duck? No thank you.” Serenity went to move down the hall, but his hold on her arm became a draw in toward his body.

“We’re wasting time. If this guy is still near the house, I need to know. This is my job, Serenity. I need to do it, and I need to do it right now. If you hear anything wrong, you follow protocol and call first, do you understand?”

Whether it was
the gravel he’d thrown into his voice or the direct words he’d put it to, Jason couldn’t be sure. But she gave up a tiny nod, taking the cell phone he’d extended and pivoting toward her bedroom.

“Okay. But if anything crazy happens—”

“Nothing crazy is going to happen. Not on my watch.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

             
Serenity was up to her wrists in a giant bowl of pastry dough when the sound of a car trundling up the gravel drive jerked her pulse into gear. What little sleep she’d gotten last night had gone down well after the premises had been checked, re-checked, and called secure. She’d felt like an idiot of epic magnitude for the false alarm, but it was nothing compared to the way even benign sounds now sounded amplified and terrifying.

             
It was only a
car
, and she wasn’t here alone. Plus, Jason had said nothing crazy was going to happen.

             
What’s more, she actually trusted him.  

By t
he time Serenity had removed the cherry-printed half-apron knotted tightly around her waist and grabbed a meat cleaver because, hey, a girl could never be too safe, Detective Blackwell had all-cleared the incoming vehicle as Jason’s Tahoe. But rather than calming her down, the information only ratcheted her heartbeat into hyperdrive. She had no clue how long arraignments were supposed to last, but oh God, was it supposed to have been so fast?

The even cadence of Jason’s footfalls took an absolute lifetime as he shoulder
ed past the front door and into the foyer, and damn it, his face showed nothing more than his classically handsome good looks. He and Detective Blackwell exchanged a brief check-in before the detective uttered a polite goodbye and disappeared into the kitchen, the solid clap of the back door the only break in the deafening silence.

             
“Well?” Serenity asked, trying supremely hard not to jump out of her skin as she made one last effort to read Jason’s face. “What happened?”

“The arraignment was fairly standard,” Jason said, his eyes sweeping the
living room in that same ingrained manner she’d grown accustomed to over the last few days. “The DA asked for Brody to be remanded, just like we discussed, and his lawyer fought it, just like we expected.”

             
“And?” 

             
A muscle twitched along Jason’s jawline. “The judge granted him bail, Serenity. He posted it twenty minutes after the hearing was over.”

             
Serenity’s breath kicked from her lungs on a hard whoosh of disbelief. “But he stabbed Colin and attacked me in my own diner! How could the judge grant him bail? I
saw
him!”

             
“Yes, but your testimony can’t be admitted until the trial,” Jason said, so calm and matter-of-fact she was sure she’d scream. “The DA did her best, but Brody’s slick. He’s never been arrested for anything where the charges stuck, and he runs several high-profile businesses in Brentsville, all of which are legitimate on paper. The judge had no choice but to consider that.”