In Two Weeks (NY State Trooper Series) (10 page)

“Oh, Jared,” she whispered. Her feet slipped to his inner thighs and her hips rocked in perfect motion with his body. Her hands massaged his back, chest, and shoulders while she moaned the most exotic noises.

He tried to ignore his need to make sure a second orgasm ripped through her body. He found himself caring too much for an experience that would never be repeated, couldn’t be repeated. And shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

Unable to rid himself of the deep-seated need to fulfill her, he dipped his head, lifting her breast to his lips. Her gasp gratified him, dissolving any grief that might have intruded into his body. “Tell me when,” he whispered.

Immediately, she tensed and thrust her hips upward, her insides gripping him to the point of undeniable passion. Nails dug into his rear end as her body quivered out of control.

“Ryan…” He thrust into her one last time arching his back, his own release spilling from his shaking body. “Beautiful, Ryan.” He kissed her temple, tasting the salty perspiration that beaded on her skin.

He eased himself down, adjusting slightly to the side, careful not to put his full weight on her, but keeping their bodies intertwined. He whispered sweet words in her ear and pressed his lips against her heated skin.

For the first time since his son had died, Jared felt a moment of peace. He still hurt and missed what could’ve been, but he didn’t want to push the world away and disappear into the depths of hell. Instead, he wanted to hold the warm body that allowed him this freedom and give her everything she deserved, everything she desired.

When he opened his eyes, she stared back at him with a soft smile. His chest tightened to a painful heartache. He couldn’t give her anything, because he had nothing to offer. Ryan was the kind of woman who deserved a man to stand by her side and support her. A man who could give her love and family. Jared wasn’t that man.

He traced her cheekbone with his thumb. True, he cared very deeply for her. Probably more than any other person in his life, but caring for someone was very different from sharing one’s life. That was something he couldn’t do. No matter how amazing the sex could be.

“Are you cold?” He rolled to the side and grabbed the throw blanket from the couch and covered their bare bodies, leaving her beautiful breasts exposed. He’d seen his share of naked women, but she made them all pale in comparison.

She pressed her cheek against his chest, snuggling in the crook of his arm. “I’m thoroughly satisfied, not cold.”

He forced a chuckle, because while her body might be satisfied, he knew she didn’t sleep around. She might have had some experiences with men, but the Ryan he knew wouldn’t go to bed with just anyone, unless she had true feelings for him.

“So am I.” He pulled her close. He could give her one night. He could make her feel like a woman should for a brief moment in time. One he’d never forget.

One that hopefully she would.

Chapter Six 

A sudden chill rustled Ryan from her light sleep. She rolled, stretching her arm, but Jared wasn’t in the bed. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she brushed away the hair that had fallen across her face and looked around the dimly lit bedroom.

The promise of morning glistened through an open window, bringing with it a cool breeze. The sun peeking over the mountains shone on Jared’s bare chest, casting a tall, muscular shadow across the room. He wore nothing but the tightness of his naked body. She couldn’t have conjured up a better image if she tried. But that did nothing to ease her fears.

He’d been more than a fantasy, and she wouldn’t deny her body would be forever changed. But she refused to deal with the change in her heart.

She wrapped herself in the disheveled sheet and tiptoed across the room.

He didn’t flinch when she touched his back, but he raised his arm, pulling her to his chest. “Did you sleep okay?” He patted her shoulder awkwardly, as if he didn’t know how to handle the morning after. His tender lips kissed the top of her head.

“Do you want to talk about him?” she asked and bit her lower lip. Only once had he ever spilled his guts about the morning he’d found his son dead. When he had finished his tale, he chugged half a bottle of Jack Daniels, then proceeded to throw a bunch of nasty insults her way. She’d finally taken the hint and left him to wallow.

“Would you come with me to the cemetery today?” he asked with an emotionless voice.

She blinked in surprise. “I would.” She’d do just about anything to help him get through the next twenty-four hours. “Are you working today?”

“First year since he died.” He tilted his head, dropping his gaze to meet hers. His eyes were sad and worn, and he looked as if he had aged ten years.

Her heart ached for him, knowing last night couldn’t erase the pain etched forever in his heart. Tears stung behind her eyes.

“I don’t know what to say.” His hands trembled when he touched her cheeks.

“Then don’t say anything at all.”

A single tear rolled down his face, then dropped to the floor. “He was cold when I went to check on him. I didn’t even hear him cry.”

“He may not have cried at all.” How did she comfort him? Jared spent his life saving people. The world he’d created existed for the sole purpose of protecting those he cared about. Protecting the world from harm, yet he’d never been able to protect himself.

He couldn’t protect his son, and he hadn’t been able to save Ryan’s mother. But no matter what Ryan told him, he always blamed himself. He tried to use those so-called failures to protect his heart, but she knew his heart had been shattered.

“I’m hungry.” He wiped his face. “Would you like some of my famous chocolate chip pancakes? He smiled, but she could tell it was forced.

“I would love some. Coffee, too?”

“You got it, babe.” He patted her shoulder again in the same awkward motion as a moment ago. He kissed her temple as if he were fully clothed. When he turned from her, he slipped on his boxers, pulled up his jeans, and left the room as if they’d never had sex.

While showering, she kept trying to tell herself that her brother had been right all along. That she had Jared on a pedestal and this was simply infatuation. The young victim who had fallen for her hero. It wasn’t love, just the inability to let go. Soon, she’d be given no choice but to let him walk out of her life for good.

After towel drying her hair and slipping into the clothes she’d brought over for work, she glanced at herself in the mirror. The pain behind her eyes was unmistakable. She’d watched her stepfather rape and beat her mother, then he’d turned on her. Between not remembering her real father and her brother taking off when things went from bad to worse, she realized Jared had a point about the men she’d chosen to date. They were safe. They were weak, both physically and mentally, making sure she’d always have the upper hand. Ensuring she was the one in charge.

Then why was she so drawn to Jared? He always had to be in control. No one dared tell him what to do or how to do it. He was the kind of man that people asked to make their decisions for them. And he was closed up emotionally like a bank vault.

She had hoped being with Jared would release her silly schoolgirl crush and allow the woman she knew existed to surface. That maybe she could move past the fantasy to live her life and fall in love with a man. A real man. Someone who’d be her equal, not someone who put her on a pedestal, or someone she feared would push her down into the depths of insecurity.

But now she’d had a taste of what it could be like with Jared, and she wanted more. In her heart, she knew there was more between them than a silly crush. But he would never give her anything more than a brotherly kiss on the temple, or a meaningless blending of two bodies to ease old wounds. He wasn’t capable of anything more, and he’d made that perfectly clear. And she’d accepted it. She had to.

‘Faking it’ took on a whole new meaning.

She pulled out her eyelash curler and primed her lashes to make them appear longer. Her daily routine was the only way to keep her emotions in check. No way could she ever allow him to know how much she loved him. That would only make it harder for him to leave. Something she knew he had to do if he was ever going to move beyond his own past. With a steady hand, she applied her mascara, telling herself that she’d get through watching him walk out of her life.

She puckered her lips and brushed on some lip-gloss, then headed down the hallway toward the stairs. She sniffed, but didn’t smell anything. Not even coffee. She shrugged, reminding herself that this house was at least eight times the size of her place. Lingering smells didn’t carry themselves that far. But she couldn’t ignore the prickly feeling that something wasn’t right. When she reached the bottom step, she knew she should be smelling something by now.

Instead, she heard voices.

* * * *

“Whoever this sick bastard is, he’s messed with the wrong man,” Jared said, slamming his fist on the table. “I want to put the pressure on that guy from Troy, and I want a court order to open Tom’s record.”

When Jared had opened the kitchen door and saw the newspaper stained with tacky blood, anger surged through every muscle in his body. But when he walked into Ryan’s house, just to make sure everything was okay, his heart sank. No way would he ever let anyone hurt her again. He’d failed her when her mother died. And he failed her last night. Making love to her had been a mistake. He didn’t love her, not the way a man should love a woman, and she deserved a man who could give her the world.

“This really doesn’t fit with Rudy Martin’s MO,” Sergeant Harmon said.

“If it’s Martin, he’s not pulling the strings, just getting paid to deliver the message.” Jared glanced out the kitchen window at the carriage house. The CSI unit was still inside, and he knew he’d have go and get Ryan soon.

“That makes more sense than some pencil pushing geek who might have done something stupid like steal his parents’ car and get busted,” Harmon said.

“Find a way to make the court order happen, okay?” Jared glanced at Frank, who was rubbing his jaw. “What’s on your mind, kid?” Frank might be green and a little rigid, but he was a damn good cop, and Jared trusted him with his life.

“Sergeant Bower from Troy spoke with Rudy and said the guy’s definitely weird. But he’s a Jesus freak now. Born again, and doesn’t put any chemicals in his system, lives in some kind of compound with a bunch of other religious nuts.”

“Just because someone lives like a monk or believes in God, doesn’t mean he’s not capable of hurting another person.”

“Jared?” Ryan’s soft voice filled the room. “Frank? What’s going on? Why are all those cars here?”

“Sit down, Ryan.” Jared wasn’t sure he’d be able to explain what had happened without scaring the crap out of her. Then again, she should be scared. Hell, he was scared.

“I’ll meet you outside,” Harmon said, nodding to Ryan.

“You’re frightening me.” She gripped the chair, but didn’t sit.

He held his hand out to her. “Come here,” he whispered, taking a single step toward her. “I promise I’ll catch whoever is doing this.” He’d sworn to himself this morning that he’d keep his distance, but under the circumstances, she needed him.

“Doing what?” Her eyes were wide with fear.

Taking her trembling body into his arms, he held her steady, trying to absorb her fear as she did his pain. “My newspaper was covered in blood this morning.”

“Huh?” She pushed herself from his clutches, bumping into a chair. “Blood?”

“Someone ransacked the carriage house. Whoever it was took a knife to your bed and ripped it to shreds.” Jared swallowed the bile rising in his throat. “They doused it with blood.”

“Oh, my God,” she muttered, covering her mouth and stumbling backward. “Why?”

“I don’t know, babe. But we need to sit down and think about who might want to hurt you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Could it be you they’re after?”

That thought had certainly crossed his mind. He’d made a few enemies over the years. There were criminals out there who wished him dead. But he also knew this particular criminal had focused on Ryan. “They left you a note.”

“A note? What kind of note?” She fumbled about the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets until she found the coffee. It slipped from her trembling fingers and the grounds spilled out onto the counter.

He raked a hand across the back of his neck, letting her continue on her mission. She needed to keep her body moving. He knew the drill better than anyone. “A threat.” With her back to him, he approached her, gently running his hands up and down her shaking arms. “A threat, made in blood, on your walls.”

Her body jerked, then she whipped around. Her eyes were full of anger. Well, that was better than fear. He hated seeing her afraid.

“We’re going to have to go over there, and you’ll need to make a statement.”

“A statement? About what?”

“Who might want to do this to you. Other than George. You have to consider other possibilities. I need you to consider other possibilities.”

She jumped when Frank tapped on the door, then poked his head in. “I think you need to get over there.”