Lovin' Blue
Authors: Zuri Day
“You!” Eden spat, her ire part anger, part chagrin. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, now, little sis,” Jansen responded, his voice soft but firm. “I could ask you the same question.” He assumed his favorite wide-legged stance, arms crossed.
Jansen's arm-folding action caused Eden's heart to flutter a bit, as she watched his pecs ripple with the movement. Her eyes slid to the wide, muscled shoulders, down the six-pack to a narrowed waist, and over the strong, powerful legs that held up a man she determined had gotten finer with age. And why was she imagining what lay just beyond the beige-colored towel shielding his manhood? Eden closed her eyes and licked suddenly dry lips.
A lazy, knowing smile crept across Jansen's face. “Liking the view?” he asked cockily as he leaned against the stair banister. “I can part the, um,
curtain,
if you'd like.”
curtain,
if you'd like.”
“Still arrogant, I see,” Eden said, turning away from him and reaching for her suitcasesâjust for something to do.
“Arrogance is when a person thinks he's all that,” Jansen shot back. “Confidence is when he knows it.”
Eden ignored Jansen's comment.
Dang, I was looking at him like he was a piece of chicken, and I was the colonel getting ready to fry.
Dang, I was looking at him like he was a piece of chicken, and I was the colonel getting ready to fry.
Also by Zuri Day
Lies Lovers Tell
Body By Night
Lessons from a Younger Lover
What Love Tastes Like
Body By Night
Lessons from a Younger Lover
What Love Tastes Like
Published by Dafina Books
Lovin'
Blue
Blue
Zuri Day
Kensington Publishing Corp.
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
For those who seek peace without violence.
Acknowledgments
A heartfelt thank you to my editor, Selena James, and my agent, Natasha Kern, for your unwavering support, spot-on advice, and treasured friendship. And to officers David Cooper and Marlon Morgan, who made my hero come alive and kept my men out of the stereotypical and unrealistic doughnut shop! Also to CHP officer Greg, who kindly informed me it was a “radio” attached to his belt, not a “walkie-talkie.”
1
The police!
Eden Anderson's heart leaped into her throat as she pulled behind the police cruiser parked in front of her brother's Baldwin Hills residence in southern California. “What's going on, Michael?” she whispered as she fumbled with her seatbelt, then the lock button, before scrambling out of her packed Acura SUV and rushing to the front door. Her concern had been growing for the past three daysâever since her phone calls and e-mails to her older brother had gone unreturned.
Eden Anderson's heart leaped into her throat as she pulled behind the police cruiser parked in front of her brother's Baldwin Hills residence in southern California. “What's going on, Michael?” she whispered as she fumbled with her seatbelt, then the lock button, before scrambling out of her packed Acura SUV and rushing to the front door. Her concern had been growing for the past three daysâever since her phone calls and e-mails to her older brother had gone unreturned.
At first she'd shrugged off her worry. After all, her brother, Michael “Big Mike” Anderson, was trying to make a name for himself in the music game. He'd produced a couple B-level acts while working for a major record label. His work often went late into the night, and reaching him wasn't always easy. But when Eden had left two “call me right now” messages, followed by texts marked with the same urgency, she'd experienced the first twinges of fear. And now, looking at the black-and-white squad car sitting at the curb of her brother's front door, Eden's anxiety went into full throttle.
Eden knocked on the front door. No response. She repeatedly rang the doorbell but didn't hear the chimes that usually sounded when the button was pushed. Eden knocked harder, first on the door, then on the window. The living room was dark; she could detect no movement. But lights were on upstairs. Eden's fear increased.
You've got a key.
Out of her panic came a voice that reminded Eden she had a key to her brother's house. He'd given it to her months ago, when she'd come house hunting and stayed at his place. She'd meant to give it back but hadn't. Remembering that she'd placed it in the zipper compartment of her large Junior Drake purse, Eden walked purposefully back to her car to retrieve it. Her steps were measured and much slower than before. Eden wasn't sure she wanted to find out what was happening on the other side of the door.
Out of her panic came a voice that reminded Eden she had a key to her brother's house. He'd given it to her months ago, when she'd come house hunting and stayed at his place. She'd meant to give it back but hadn't. Remembering that she'd placed it in the zipper compartment of her large Junior Drake purse, Eden walked purposefully back to her car to retrieve it. Her steps were measured and much slower than before. Eden wasn't sure she wanted to find out what was happening on the other side of the door.
Jansen McKnight turned off the shower.
Did I hear a knock?
He waited a beat, and then another, before turning the water back on and finishing the long, hot shower. He turned to let the water pound against the knots in his shoulders.
I need to see Dakkar,
he thought dispassionately. Dakkar was the masseuse trained in Swedish massage who had rubbed away tension, stress, and frustration from Jansen's body for years. For now, however, the near-scalding hot water pulsating from the heavy-duty showerhead was serving as a viable alternative. Jansen rested a large palm on either side of the stall, hung his head, and let the water work its magic.
Did I hear a knock?
He waited a beat, and then another, before turning the water back on and finishing the long, hot shower. He turned to let the water pound against the knots in his shoulders.
I need to see Dakkar,
he thought dispassionately. Dakkar was the masseuse trained in Swedish massage who had rubbed away tension, stress, and frustration from Jansen's body for years. For now, however, the near-scalding hot water pulsating from the heavy-duty showerhead was serving as a viable alternative. Jansen rested a large palm on either side of the stall, hung his head, and let the water work its magic.
A loud thud interrupted Jansen's serenity. His just relaxed muscles tensed, his entire body rigid in alert. He lessened the water pressure, straining to hear beyond the guest bathroom he'd used since agreeing to house sit for Michael the previous week, and beyond the stereo playing in the bedroom across the hall.
Thump.
There it was again, unmistakable this time. Either the sound of footsteps, or something being dragged across the floor, or both. Jansen's officer instinct went into auto mode, and for good reason. A recent rash of burglaries in the upscale, central Los Angeles neighborhood was why Michael had asked his friend to house sit. Jansen loved the comfort of his home in Gardena, and agreed to his best friend's pleas only after Michael promised that a home security system would be installed immediately upon his return.
Well, brothah,
Jansen thought with a resigned sigh,
looks like I'm getting ready to earn my keep.
There it was again, unmistakable this time. Either the sound of footsteps, or something being dragged across the floor, or both. Jansen's officer instinct went into auto mode, and for good reason. A recent rash of burglaries in the upscale, central Los Angeles neighborhood was why Michael had asked his friend to house sit. Jansen loved the comfort of his home in Gardena, and agreed to his best friend's pleas only after Michael promised that a home security system would be installed immediately upon his return.
Well, brothah,
Jansen thought with a resigned sigh,
looks like I'm getting ready to earn my keep.
With the stealth of a panther, Jansen turned the shower back to full blast, eased out of the stall, soundlessly wrapped a towel around his waist, and reached for the 9mm Glock that was never far from his reach. Tonight he'd unstrapped and rested it on the closed toilet seat, before the rest of his navy uniform ended up in a heap on the bathroom floor.
Thunk.
Jansen eased the gun out of its holster and crept down the short hallway to the top of the stairs. Taking a deep breath, he placed his foot on the top step and prayed the old maple wood wouldn't creak under his weight.
Eden walked into the living room and dropped another load onto the hardwood floor. Her first thought had been to leave everything in the car until morning, but a chance glance at a crime-watch sign nailed to a post nixed that idea. Even in what she felt was a fairly safe neighborhood, a car packed with clearly visible goods may be too much for either a hardened criminal or a bored teen to pass up. So with the last ounces of energy she could summon after driving for ten hours, she walked in with her beloved stereo systemâthe final load.
Jansen kept his back against the wall as he noted the shadow passing along the living room's far wall.
Whoever this fool is has a lot of nerve.
Normally, especially when it was obvious that someone was home, a burglar would do one quick, thorough sweepâget in and out. But Jansen wanted to catch this perpetrator, believing that in doing so he may nab the person or ring of persons behind this neighborhood's woes. That's why he'd left the shower running, to give the thief a false sense of security. The criminal had obviously taken the bait and made himself at home.
You may be nervy, but you're not too bright, son.
Jansen quietly cocked his weapon. It was about to go down.
Whoever this fool is has a lot of nerve.
Normally, especially when it was obvious that someone was home, a burglar would do one quick, thorough sweepâget in and out. But Jansen wanted to catch this perpetrator, believing that in doing so he may nab the person or ring of persons behind this neighborhood's woes. That's why he'd left the shower running, to give the thief a false sense of security. The criminal had obviously taken the bait and made himself at home.
You may be nervy, but you're not too bright, son.
Jansen quietly cocked his weapon. It was about to go down.
Eden gingerly sat her stereo on the coffee table and then reached for the suitcases she'd tossed on the couch. She couldn't wait to get in the shower. Her head hurt; her hairâstuffed under an Orioles baseball capâwas in desperate need of shampoo, and the secret that was strong enough for a man but made for a woman was about to become public news.
Oh, I'm funky,
she thought as she used the sleeve of her long-sleeved Bison Blue T-shirt to wipe her face. As she did so, her earring caught on the sleeve and came out of her ear. She'd planned to replace the clasp on her favorite hoops before leaving DC, but like many other plans she'd made in the past two weeks, these, too, had changed. Ever since resigning her job on Capitol Hill, her life had been a series of unexpected interruptions. Part of what she was hoping for with this move back home was a life without surprises.
Oh, I'm funky,
she thought as she used the sleeve of her long-sleeved Bison Blue T-shirt to wipe her face. As she did so, her earring caught on the sleeve and came out of her ear. She'd planned to replace the clasp on her favorite hoops before leaving DC, but like many other plans she'd made in the past two weeks, these, too, had changed. Ever since resigning her job on Capitol Hill, her life had been a series of unexpected interruptions. Part of what she was hoping for with this move back home was a life without surprises.
“Freeze! Don't move!” Jansen eased off the last step onto the floor, assumed a strong, wide-legged stance, and pointed his gun at the back of the scrawny, ball-capped thief who'd been wreaking havoc on the neighborhood. “Get your hands up and slowly turn around.”
Eden stood frozen, unable to speak or move.
What's going on? Where's Michael?
After hearing the music, and the water running, Eden had assumed it was Michael upstairs. But these strong, authoritative commands had definitely not been uttered from her brother's lips, and her womanly intuition, along with a rapidly beating heart, told her this was not a joke.
What's going on? Where's Michael?
After hearing the music, and the water running, Eden had assumed it was Michael upstairs. But these strong, authoritative commands had definitely not been uttered from her brother's lips, and her womanly intuition, along with a rapidly beating heart, told her this was not a joke.
“Do it now!” Jansen took another step toward his suspect.
Eden began to shake as she slowly turned around. She took one look at the huge man whose face was hidden in the darkness, noted the gun thatâunlike his countenanceâwas clearly visible from his outstretched hands, and did what any normal, law-abiding citizen would do under such dire circumstances. She fainted.
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