Officer in Pursuit (7 page)

“What are friends for?” she said,
trying to sound nonchalant, like the idea of him staying overnight
didn’t faze her.

He didn’t say anything, but his gaze
lingered on her eyes, and for one exhilarating, horrifying moment,
she got the feeling that he was looking right through her, seeing
all the things she could never bring herself to say.

CHAPTER 5

Kerry’s house was insanely clean. Grey
didn’t usually notice stuff like that, but it was impossible not
to. It looked like a tiny model house out of a magazine; there was
no clutter anywhere, nothing out of place. As she closed and locked
the door behind them, he crossed the small living room and sank
down onto the couch.

It was a faux-suede love seat, and
from its cushions he could see a neat kitchen and a hall that he
guessed led back to her bedroom and the bathroom.

He couldn’t believe he was inside her
house. And staying the night, on top of it. Getting a face full of
sweaty guy foot was turning out to be the best thing that’d
happened to him in a hell of a long time. Was it weird to have a
concussion and a semi at the same time?

Because as he watched Kerry
double-lock the front door and slip off her sandals, he got halfway
hard.

“Thanks again for letting me stay
over,” he said, as if being polite would make up for the fact that
he was imagining stripping her out of her jean shorts.

“Go ahead and lie down,” she said.
“I’ll get you a drink. What would you like?”

“Water would be great.” He felt
guilty, letting her wait on him. But he was pretty thirsty, now
that he thought about it, and after puking up half a dozen of
Wilmington’s finest tacos in front of her, his new strategy was to
move as little as possible and hope nothing else came
up.

While she was in the kitchen, he laid
back on the couch, trying to get comfortable. Considering that he
was nearly twice as long as the two-cushion loveseat, it was easier
said than done. He was still wriggling around with his legs jutting
off one end when she walked into the room.

“Oh. Damn. I didn’t realize…” She
sounded upset.

“Did you want me to take my shoes
off?”

“No, it’s not that. I just didn’t
realize how tiny the couch was compared to you. I’d figured you
could sleep there, but obviously that’d be ridiculous.”

“I can make it work. Don’t worry about
it.” He accepted the glass of ice water she handed to him.
“Thanks.”

“No way. You can sleep in my
bed.”

His heart jolted and soared, and he
got a little harder.

“I’ll take the couch,” she continued.
“I’ll fit just fine.”

And just like that, his heart sank
right back down where it belonged.

Of course, he was being an idiot. No
part of him had really thought that he and Kerry would wind up in
the same room together that night, let alone the same bed. But her
words had set off an instant, automatic reaction fueled by a
summer’s worth of fantasies and some serious wishful
thinking.

“I appreciate it,” he said, “but I
can’t take your bed. I’ll be fine out here.”

What did she wear to bed? It was still
too hot to wear much of anything. Maybe nothing at all? He couldn’t
help but wonder. His head still felt a little fuzzy, but when he
imagined her and what she might – or might not – wear to sleep, his
powers of concentration took an amazing turn for the
better.

“No, the doctor said you need to get
plenty of rest. You’re definitely taking my bed. Don’t argue –
you’re supposed to rest your brain, remember?”

His brain was busy feverishly
imagining her sans-clothing, but he had enough sense not to admit
it, even if he did have a concussion. “Fine. But I owe you – I’ll
make it up to you sometime. Buy you dinner.”

Had he really just said that? Well… He
dared to meet her eyes, hoping his proposal wouldn’t go the way of
his recent sunset viewing invitation.

She was giving him a strange look.
“You don’t owe me anything. It was my bright idea that ended up
with you in the hospital. Anyway, I’ll go put a fresh set of sheets
on the bed for you.”

He bit his tongue before he could tell
her not to, to just leave the sheets that probably smelled like
her.

Somehow, he drifted off in the span of
the few minutes she was gone. He realized he’d fallen asleep when
the sound of her footsteps on the hardwood floor snapped him back
into wakefulness.

“You’d better get to bed.”

He stood up, felt dead on his feet.
The fatigue had come out of nowhere, and suddenly, the day felt
incredibly long. Had he really tried on his jacked-up tux and
gorged himself on tacos earlier in the day? All that felt like it’d
happened weeks ago, at least.

He stretched, and his muscles twinged
in protest. Kerry had been right – jiu-jitsu hadn’t just kicked his
face, but his ass. Not that he was going to admit that to
her.

The movement left him lightheaded, and
he steadied himself with a hand against the back of the
couch.

“Are you okay?” Her voice was soft,
tinged with audible worry.

“
Fine.” His head throbbed
beneath the ridiculous bandage they’d stuck on him at the ER. “I’m
going to look like an idiot at the wedding this weekend though.”
The thought struck him and just tumbled out; he was too tired to
have a filter.

“I’m sure Liam and Alicia will
understand. Accidents happen.”

“I’m not worried about them. There was
this bridesmaid I wanted to impress, though.”

“Who – Alicia’s cousin?”

He was pretty sure she was joking, but
the fog of exhaustion made it hard to be 100% certain.

“Not hardly. I don’t want to name
names, but her initials are Kerry Harlow. I’ve made an ass out of
myself in front of her quite a few times, so the wedding was my
chance to turn things around. You know, be all sophisticated and
dashing.”

She placed a hand on his arm, pushed
him toward the hall. For her size, she was pretty strong. “I guess
that’ll be pretty hard to pull off with a gauze pad stuck to the
side of your head, but I have faith in you.”

* * * * *

It took Kerry forever to fall asleep.
Not because the couch was uncomfortable – she hardly noticed that.
No, it was her conscience that made it hard to get any rest. Forget
her guilt over getting Grey kicked in the head – that was nothing
compared to the shame that hit her when she admitted to herself how
much she liked having him at her house.

He wanted to impress her – she
couldn’t believe he’d said that, even if he had sustained a head
injury. He’d stunned her when he’d said it, and even now, she
reeled at the thought of a guy like Grey being so concerned about
what she thought.

Old habits died hard, but old ways of
thinking were even harder to get rid of. As much as she liked to
think she’d changed over the past three years, the fact that Grey –
basically the ideal man – was into her still seemed too good to be
true, sometimes.

But that wasn’t why she’d been so
unintentionally hot and cold with him. The problem was that she
really did want to explore the attraction between them. Wanted it
more than she’d ever wanted anything, but…

There were no possibilities to
accompany the attraction. Not serious ones, and she didn’t know how
to do casual or fun or hook-ups or whatever people called that sort
of thing. Didn’t want to, because she just didn’t have it in her,
even if she did wonder what it might be like to be that
free.

But her capacity to have something
real with someone had been utterly destroyed years ago. Grey was
amazing, but she wasn’t good for anyone. Couldn’t be. Someone had
seen to that a long time ago.

She had a certain degree of freedom
now, but it was a solitary independence: there was no real
possibility of sharing her life with someone else.

She needed to be clear about that with
Grey. She owed him that. And as she lay alone in the dark with him
just down the hall, she vowed to set things straight in the
morning.

Still, when she fell asleep, she
dreamed of him. Her subconscious mind didn’t care about what was
right or wrong or even impossible. For a few hours, she got to live
the kind of life she might’ve had with Grey or someone like him, if
everything had been different.

* * * * *

Kerry awoke to the sounds of sizzling
and popping. The noise jump-started her heart, sent pain slicing
sharp and sudden through her chest like a knife. She jerked, dug
her fingers into the couch cushions, tried to breathe
deeply.

She drew air in shallow pants instead.
Couldn’t help it, especially not after she detected the smell of
smoke.

Oh, God. Smoke. It was real, no fading
dream or passing memory. The faster she breathed, the more she drew
in, until it was all she could smell, all she could think
about.

Her house was on fire. Just like
Wisteria, just like Alicia’s house. The realization was the
manifestation of a hundred nightmares, and yet, it still felt
unreal.

Just like things had when Wisteria had
gone up in flames, when Sasha had nearly died because Kerry had
tried and failed to lift her out of the burning basement. Coupled
with the smoke, the memory was more vivid than ever, cripplingly
real.

Kerry couldn’t move, couldn’t get off
the couch to save her own life.

She screamed.

“Fuck!” A male voice echoed through
her house.

Her mind whirled even faster, her
thoughts spinning into hysterical territory. The more she panted,
the more smoke she breathed in, and the more terrified she
became.

She didn’t know whether to ask herself
how this was happening, or how she’d been spared such a fate for so
long. Either way, her world was crumbling around her and
she—

“Kerry?” Footsteps shook the
floorboards, reverberating in her small house like
thunder.

Grey
. All at once, she remembered: the night before, the reason
he was in her house. A split second of relief quickly turned sour,
amplifying her fear. It was no use being glad they were both in the
same boat if that boat was on fire.

“What’s wrong?” He came crashing into
the living room in jeans and a t-shirt, wearing that gauze pad like
a crooked crown.

It took Kerry an eternity to find her
voice. “Don’t you smell the smoke?”

CHAPTER 6

Kerry’s hands trembled against the
cushions, and her nails ached from being pressed into
them.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I suck at
cooking.”

Several more silent seconds dragged
by, like the last grains of sand in an hourglass.

“What?”

“I, uh, couldn’t find any butter in
your kitchen. So I used some olive oil. To fry bacon. There’s a lot
of smoke.”

Slowly, the fog of terror lifted from
Kerry’s mind. All too quickly, it was replaced by an overwhelming
sense of mortification.

“You’re making bacon?”

“Uh, yeah. About that. I hope you like
it crispy. It was kinda hard to cook.”

She was no longer panicking, but a
bitter taste remained on the back of her tongue and every heartbeat
hurt. “It’s turkey bacon.”

“Yeah? I guess that explains it.
Kerry…”

“What?”

“Are you going to tell me why you’re
freaking out?”

Mortification hit her like a physical
blow, rattling her consciousness. “I woke up and smelled smoke,
heard the bacon crackling… I thought the house was on
fire.”

Silence amplified her
embarrassment.

“I was trying to surprise you,” Grey
eventually said, speaking slowly, as if he’d carefully considered
every word. “God, not like that though – with
breakfast.”

That was nice of you.
Thanks. How thoughtful.
Appropriate
responses cycled through Kerry’s mind, overabundant, but she
couldn’t bring herself to voice any of them.

“Sorry,” he said.

His apology broke the spell of her
speechlessness. “No need to apologize – you were just trying to do
something nice. Not your fault I took a little dive off the deep
end.”

“Yeah, it is. After what happened at
Wisteria, no one could blame you. I just wasn’t thinking. I
could’ve at least opened a window.”

His words made her chest feel too
tight, though at the same time, it was a relief that he
understood.

“First Liam’s house and then Wisteria
– I’ve been afraid it would happen again ever since. That someone
might – you know, set my house on fire.”

The words tumbled out, and God, did
they sound ridiculous when she spoke them out loud. This was it,
the big moment of truth: Grey was going to realize what a basket
case she was, and then she could kiss spontaneous, fun and sexy
games of chicken at the beach goodbye.