Numbers Never Lie (Crimson Romance) (13 page)

“Holy shit!” Trev blurted without even thinking as he stared at her. He turned around. “Put the jacket back on!”

“Why? Don’t you like what you picked out?”
Is she really toying with me? Must be the Scotch talking.
He shook his head, afraid to speak, then cleared his throat.

“Are you shitting me? If I’d known the shirt didn’t fit, I wouldn’t have brought it. Let me get you something of mine. I’ll be right back.” His voice was scratchy.

“Nah.” She giggled. “This is fine.” She moved toward him, tripping on her own feet, blocking him from going to his bedroom. The Scotch had to be hitting her hard now. Her movements were really exaggerated.

“The hell it is!” He darted past her and picked up the jacket off the floor. When he turned back to wrap it around her, she was right in front of him, pressing against him. “Stop it, Soph,” he growled.

“Why? What’s wrong with it, Mr. Psycho, Gun-Waving, Cowboy Dude? After all, you picked it out, right? Underwear, shirt, and pants. What else do I need?”

Trev panicked.
Okay, gotta get out of here. She’s sloshed and probably a little hyped from the commotion, too.
“Come on, Henry, give me a break. How was I supposed to know the shirt would fit you like that? It was in your drawer.” His eyes pleaded with her to back off, his hand was against her waist, touching the heat of her flesh, pushing her back from him. “I’m really trying to hold it together here. Would you knock it off?”

“Why are you trying to ‘hold it together’? What’s the problem?”

That was just plain brutal, he thought, to look like that in those clothes and not be someone he could even make a play for.

“There wouldn’t be a problem under normal circumstances. You look fantastic. Really.” He grinned. “In a sexy, slutty sort of way.” His voice was strained and broke at the end. “I just wanted to try to keep this on a professional level since right now, I’m sort of working for you, but you’re killing me, Soph. I can’t look at that! Not if I’m going to keep my hands off.” If he got through this and maintained his restraint, he was going to deserve a medal.

“So, what did you call that last kiss? A business meeting? You’re a big talker but deep down, you’re not really the ‘player’ you make yourself out to be, are you?”

“Huh?” He used his free hand to drape the jacket around her. Once he had it over her shoulders, he used both hands to pull the bottom together and zip it back up around her. “There we go. Much better. I’m beginning to like this jacket.” He smiled with relief as he felt the circulation start to return to his face. “It works great as a restraining device.”

“Trevor?” Sophie looked up at him. Tears had formed in her eyes again.

“Yeah? Are you okay?”

“Why would someone break into my apartment?”

“Who knows?” He put his hands on the shoulder of the jacket, glad not to be touching her skin. “He was probably just a burglar and he wasn’t expecting you to come home.”

“But I did, and,” tears were beading up in her eyelids now, “he could have been a rapist or a murderer.”

“Hey, now.” He put his hand under her chin and tilted it so her eyes were looking into his. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. That was it for him. She was scared, really scared. All the rest was just an act. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her to him, stroking the curls out of her wet eyes. Her face was buried against his chest. “He ran out so it’s not likely he was going to hurt you. Besides, you’re fine now. Right? Just a little scared. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I don’t understand all of this.” She was swaying a little. “I’m sorry, Trev.” The tears were coming now.

“Look, I know I said I don’t do well with tears, but it’s okay to cry a little. You just went through a pretty traumatic event. It’s allowed.” He was trying to lean down and look into her big wet eyes but she was just looking away. Then suddenly she lunged over and … dammit. She puked all over him.

“Ahhh.” He sighed.
So much for just passing out.
He should have never given her the Scotch. Or at least he should have just given her a little, but how was he supposed to know she would chug it down?

“I’m so sorry, Trevor. I didn’t mean to do that. Oh God, I’m sorry!” She clutched her mouth and wiped her chin with the sleeve of his jacket. Her face was pale and blotched, her mouth hung open in disbelief, completely humiliated. She looked down at the mess on his shoes and pant legs and her face scrunched up again. The tears came non-stop and she gasped and sputtered as they flowed freely. She tried to use the arm of his jacket to wipe his pants, but he grasped her arms and pulled her up. He held his breath to keep from reacting to the pungent odor.

“It’s okay, Henry. It’s okay. I shouldn’t have given you the Scotch.” God, she was adorable. Tears, puke, everything. She was a mess, and really upset that she’d gotten it all over him. She smelled horrendous now. He felt bad for her. She had been through hell tonight and all she was worried about was this.

Trev pulled the jacket back off her, not daring to look at the T-shirt underneath. He got a towel and wiped her face and hands, then carried her back to the bathroom in his bedroom. “Let’s get you into the shower,” he lowered her to the side of tub. He started the water running, tested it to make sure it wasn’t too hot, then switched it to the shower. “There you go,” he whispered, then started out of the room.

“Trev?” She looked at him, teary-eyed, and he felt his chest tighten.

“Yeah?”

“Can I change clothes?”

He looked at the puke-spattered pants and shirt. “Of course. I’ll find something for you, but it’s not going to fit.”

“Anything’s better than this,” she said. As he closed the door to the bathroom, she was already struggling to strip out of the pants and shirt. He wanted to help but that would be more than his self-control would endure right now. He found a shirt and shorts and set them by the door, then he retreated to the living room to clean up.

Thirty minutes later, he went to check on her and found her asleep on his bed wearing his clothes. One foot dangled over the edge of the bed, touching the floor. He smiled at the well-known attempt to stop the bed from spinning. So much for asking questions about the break-in. He hit the speed dial on his phone and got Nate. “Tell me you found him.”

“Nope, he was gone. You’re going to need to come back over here, though. It looks like he’s taken some things and I’m not sure what. We didn’t see anyone else, either. Looks like it might just be a burglar.”

“Okay. Not tonight man. She’s passed out and I doubt she’ll be awake enough to look at it till tomorrow. Can you put someone in there to watch it for now?”

“No problem. See you tomorrow.” Nate didn’t ask where she was and Trev was glad. They’d assume he put her up in a hotel — that would have been the logical thing to do. He wasn’t sure why he had chosen not to. Something about that other guy watching made him nervous.

Trev went into the guest room he used for an office. He surveyed the room, sparsely decorated with a few recognitions from past work, along with pictures of his family. Two pictures of him in his uniform as he graduated from the academy. One was with his parents, the other with the rest of his family. Another in his army gear with his prior unit. He took down the pictures and placed them in the appropriate files. He locked everything in the closet and looked around to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. He would have to explain himself tomorrow, most likely, but it was better not to get too detailed until they had the rest of the information back from Cheryl.

One last look in on Sophie and then he would grab a blanket and get a little sleep on the couch. She looked beautiful. Clean and content, sprawled across the bed with her hair tumbling everywhere on his pillow. He gently picked her up and slid her legs under the blankets, then pulled them up over her. He sat on the side of the bed for a couple minutes watching her.

Trev’s hand played with the edge of the blanket that was draped across her shoulders. He felt her mouth on his again, her tongue working against his, his legs weakening as he leaned against the doorjamb. Then he shook his head and brought himself back to the present. She sure looked nice in his shirt. He had to stop thinking this way. He let out a soft sigh and headed to the couch.

• • •

At six
A.M.
, Sophie awoke to the smell of something cooking. She washed her face in his bathroom, then snooped through his drawers for toothpaste and maybe an extra toothbrush. She found the toothpaste in the same drawer as a hand revolver, but no toothbrush. She used her finger to brush her teeth as best as she could, then picked up the handgun and carried it to the kitchen.

“How many of these do you have lying around?” She waved the holstered weapon at him as she entered the kitchen, stopping when he snatched it from her hand and placed it on the counter.

“There are a few, but I’ll move them if it makes you uncomfortable.” Trev had showered already and was wearing a pair of loose fitting scruffy tan shorts and a white undershirt. His short dark hair was wet and shiny, the facial hair still had a couple of water drops beaded up on it. He was barefoot and as he leaned against the kitchen counter, looking at her, she thought it strange that she was staring at his feet. How could a person’s feet be sexy? But they were.

“Here, have some coffee.” He stood and poured a cup for her. “Do you want anything in it?”

“What? Oh. No, that’s fine.” She took the cup. Her head was hurting pretty bad and she pressed a hand against her forehead. She watched his movements, searching for some indication that would explain who he really was.

“Take this, too.” Without looking at her, he handed her an aspirin he’d set out on the counter. She took it gladly and gulped it down with a sip of hot coffee.

“Thanks,” Sophie responded sheepishly. “I’m sorry about the mess.”

“No worries. It’s all cleaned up now. Your clothes are in the dryer and should be done pretty soon if you want to put them back on.” Did he really think she’d be able to get that outfit back on after it had gone through the dryer? Was he kidding?

“Yeah, right.” Sarcasm dripped from her mouth. “The last time I wore that shirt, before last night of course, was eight years ago.”

“Really?” Trev laughed. “Why do you still have it?”

Sophie looked down at her hands. “My mom bought it for me. I just felt like keeping it was a way of keeping her.”

“I guess that makes sense.” He felt bad for her, losing her mother left her with no one to really support her. That must have been awful. “Well, it still fits like a glove.” Trevor smiled again, taunting her. “Aren’t you glad you still have your girlish figure?”

“Ha! Yeah, right. You really are pushing it, you know.”

“Just being honest.” He shrugged.

“You’re mocking me. I didn’t have a girlish figure then — I was built like a boy, all skin and bones. I’ve put on a little padding in certain areas since then.”

He looked at her in his T-shirt and shorts and an unreadable expression clouded his eyes. The shirt was so big it was falling off one shoulder, showing her skin and the tiny mole on the back of her shoulder. He glanced at it, then back to her eyes with no change in expression. The shorts were rolled up several times at the waist to keep them from falling down. Even with rolling them up and tying the string tightly, they still sat a little low on her hips. It didn’t matter though because the shirt completely covered them as if it were a dress. She sat down at the counter and lifted one leg up. She pulled it against her on the chair, tucking her foot under the other leg.

“There’s nothing boyish about you, Soph,” he stated as he set plates on the bar in the kitchen. “I’ve made breakfast. Have a seat and dig in.” The space between the counter and the table was minimal and as he moved past her and slid into the stool next to her, he grazed her thigh with his leg. His leg was warm, the hair on it soft and fine.

They ate in silence. Sophie was keenly aware of the way his arms stretched against the cloth of the T-shirt he wore. She’d only seen him in work clothes up to this point. His arms were evenly tanned and muscular. His hands were big with spidery fingers. He had a nasty scar on the underside of his upper right arm. She wondered how that had happened. It disappeared into the sleeve of his shirt as if to hint there was more to be seen underneath.

Sophie broke the silence. “You’re not really an IT consultant, are you?”

“Not exactly, but I do have a lot of expertise in computer forensics and I’m kind of a type of consultant.”

“Who do you work for?”

“The government.”

“Why are you here?”

“I told you that already. I’m sort of in between assignments right now. I … we … my team was investigating several cases of fraud in Louisiana up until a couple of months ago.” She could see that Trevor was uncomfortable with the questions, but there were too many of them. So many that she wanted — no, that she needed — to know. Why was he here? What was with all the guns? Was there really an intruder or was that a ruse? No, she heard the crash and heard the guy run out of her apartment. That was real. Wasn’t it? She had kissed this man standing here. She had wanted him. Hell, she still did, but who was he?

“And you’re working on something else now?”

“Yes.” Bluntly. “But I can’t discuss it with you, not till it’s over.” The expression on his face frustrated her, but she nodded as if she understood. She hadn’t picked up her fork yet. She just sat there with her arms wrapped over her raised leg.

“So, are you married?” she asked.

His eyes darted to her face when she said that. “There’s a change of subject. No. Are you?”

She laughed. “You saw where I live; you know the answer to that.”

“I could say the same thing to you.” He waved his hand at his apartment as he forked a piece of egg, reminding her where they were. “Why are you asking?”

“No reason,” she lied. “I guess I just wanted to make sure I hadn’t been kissing someone else’s man last night.”

Trevor’s hands stopped suddenly. He became very still. His gaze was focused intently on the plate of eggs in front of him. He chewed his food and swallowed. A thousand pictures flew through her head, all of which included his mouth and hers. Touching. She noticed a twitch in his jaw before he said gruffly, “Aren’t you going to eat?”