Out of Eden (26 page)

“Is Shy sleeping with her?”

“It’s only for one night.”

“She said that last night when the dog snuck into our room.”

Jack gazed up at the quarter moon, smiled.

“It’s fine. Really. Shy makes her happy. I want Madeline to be happy, Jack.”

“She’s doing okay. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“Starting tomorrow, I’ll have a new life. I just have to get through the divorce proceeding. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re coming. You can restrain me if I go for Frank’s jugular.”

Jack chuckled. “I was counting on you to restrain me.”

“Are you kidding? I’d cheer you on.” She lowered her voice and vented. “With each passing minute, with every scandalous image that permeates my brain, I despise that son of a bitch even more.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“Part of me wants to blot him from my mind forever, never see him or speak to him again. But the other part, the part that has to live with the betrayal and the fact that word is spreading through Eden regarding his indiscretions…that part wants revenge. Almost makes me wish one of these mobster wannabes was for real.”

A muscle twitched in Jack’s tense jaw. “What mobster wannabes?”

“Hey, sweetheart!” he heard someone shout in a lame Italian accent. “How about some
gabagool?
”

“I’m on break!” she shouted back. “So annoying,” she said to Jack. “What is
gabagool
, anyway? Customers have been spouting slang from
Omertà
all night. A few even dressed the part. Baggy trousers and boxy, short-sleeved shirts. Gaudy gold chain necklaces and pinkie rings.”

Jack’s past and present collided. His gut kicked. “What the hell?”

“It all stemmed from Kylie’s claim that she witnessed a mob hit in the park,” Jessie said. “The story spread like wildfire. No one believes it, but they’re sure having fun with it. Especially Max, J.J. and Mr. Keystone. Even Boone got into the spirit. He’s showing back-to-back episodes of
Omertà
on the two mounted televisions. Grown men playing mobsters,” she said in a disgusted voice. “Nothing like putting thugs on a pedestal. All I can say is if even half of what’s on that show reflects reality, I don’t know how you lasted so long in New York City.”

Jack massaged his temples as a dozen gruesome memories attacked his brain.

“Are you still there?”

“Yeah. Just trying to wrap my mind around Max and the boys dressed like gangsters.” A partial truth.

“They’re not alone. Fifteen or so other dimwits dressed the part. The place is packed. Everyone’s not in mobster garb, but everyone is watching the show and spewing mobster slang. I don’t even know some of these people. Wanda pointed out that a few folks always trickle in early for the festival.”

“Especially the men driving in the collectible wheels for the car and truck show,” Jack said. “Happens every year.” He imagined them easily falling into the mobster fan-fest. Even Ziffel glorified that damned show.

“I never paid attention. I guess I was too absorbed in my own life. Anyway, any two of these
wiseguys
could’ve been the ones who spooked Kylie. For what it’s worth, I keep listening for one of them to slip up and brag about it.”

“I appreciate that, Jess, but if you do hear something, don’t engage, just pass the information on to me.”

“You don’t think they’re actually dangerous?”

“I don’t know what to think.” The wannabe craze certainly supported his role-playing scenario. Logic, based on the town’s obsession with
Omertà
, suggested Kylie had been the victim of a fantasy-game-gone-wrong. End of story. Maybe Travis Martin and the WITSEC angle were totally unconnected. It would sure as hell be a welcome coincidence.

Jessie sighed. “I’m sorry I rambled. It’s just…I’m over the mob thing.”

“You and me both.”

“At least it’s distracting me from the divorce. And at least they’re not gossiping about
me
. Not tonight anyway. I have to get back to work, Jack.”

“You get off at one, right?”

“Right.”

“I’m going to ask Officer Hooper to follow you home.”

“That’s silly.”

“Indulge me.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so. Have a good night with Kylie, Mr. Worrywart.”

In spite of his wary mood, Jack smiled. “I think this was the most you’ve ever talked to me in one session.”

“I know. Weird.”

“Nice. Good night, sis.”

“Good night.”

Jack disconnected, called Hooper, then signed off just as Kylie moved out of the shadows. “Everything good?” she asked.

“As good as can be expected.” He thought about sharing Jessie’s description of the mobster wannabes, but he didn’t want Kylie thinking the town was making fun of her. His inclination was to shield her from hurt—whether she liked it or not.

“Ready to go?” she asked softly.

“Sure.” He grasped her elbow and guided her through the moonlit yard.

“The 24/7 protection thing. I guess that means you’re staying over.”

“Have a problem with that?”

“Sort of.”

Jack backed her against the passenger door of his SUV. “Talk to me.”

“It’s just…that love thing. I’m confused, too. I mean, I have some concerns. About me and my illusions. About you and your…mind set. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to tackle you and have wild sex. Because I really liked it. The sex, that is. I don’t want you to think I’m using you, just because, you know, it was great, but I want more. With you. Sex,” she clarified. “If we sleep in the same house I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself. Truthfully, I don’t
want
to control myself. I’m sick to death of suppressing my feelings and urges. Right now, this moment, I want sex. Specifically with you. And if that makes me a slut, so be it.”

Heart pounding, Jack squinted down at her. “Are you for real?”

She shut her eyes, frowned. “I’m hopeless.”

“Get in the car.”

“What?”

He pulled her aside, opened the door and lifted her in. “Buckle up.”

She was lucky he didn’t take her right there—in the grass, against a tree, in the car. Sex wasn’t a cure-all, but it was sure as hell a Band-aid. “If you’re hopeless, I’m pathetic. What fired you up?” he asked, as he keyed the ignition.

“Seeing you interact with a lonely widow, your bashful niece and a needy dog. You?”

“Seeing you interact with a lonely widow, my bashful niece and a needy dog.”

They reached across the seat at the same time, fingers brushing. Jack clasped her palm, experienced a rush of affection and lust. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” she said.

“About that talk—”

“Later.”

“Yeah.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

A
FFECTION AND PASSION
proved a powerful mix, clouding the guilt Kylie felt for withholding information about Travis. Jack hadn’t said anything about visiting the man’s house other than—he wasn’t there. He wasn’t telling her everything, but she wasn’t being forthright, either. If she pried, he’d pry. The more she avoided conversation about Travis Martin, the less she had to dance around the truth. She
really
hated lying to Jack and had to keep reminding herself why she’d chosen to do so in the first place.

To give an injured soul a fighting chance at life, at happiness.

Yeah, that was it.

Hopefully, Jack would understand her motivation when she showed him the letter. She wasn’t sure how he would feel about the money and the ticket. She wasn’t sure how
she
felt about the money and the ticket. Every time she thought about it, her stomach cramped. Not a good sign.

Kylie squeezed Jack’s hand, focused on his strength and compassion. His tolerance. She pushed aside unsettling thoughts in order to embrace warm ones. Thoughts of her and Jack, together and in love.

Maybe.

Before she knew it, Jack pulled into the driveway of 146 Newberry Street, the house she’d grown up in. The house now occupied by her mom and grandma, only they weren’t here. They were in Alaska. Miles away, like Spenser. Thank goodness. Not that they’d mind her spending the night, she was always welcome, but they’d sure as heck mind that she planned on getting naked and messing up her little-girl sheets with a man.

The McGraws were an old-fashioned lot. Even her globe-trotting brother. What was good for him wasn’t specifically good for his baby sister. Just because he’d sneaked a girl into his old bedroom and had premarital sex, that didn’t mean he’d approve of her doing the same. For some reason, every time she crossed the threshold of their childhood home, she regressed fifteen years in her brother’s eyes.

Yeah, well. He wasn’t here to see this. So there.

Thanks to her security-minded mom and a nifty autotimer, light shone through the living room window. She’d have to douse that lamp the moment they entered, otherwise a neighbor might catch a glimpse of her and Jack ripping off each other’s clothes. Talk about fuel for gossip.

Her pulse skipped and skittered. Maybe it was the bizarre day. Maybe she needed to blow off anxious energy. Maybe it was the realization of how short life can be and needing desperately to feel alive.

Kylie couldn’t wait to get Jack naked. She couldn’t wait to touch and kiss every exquisite part of him, to experience another earth-rocking orgasm. She wanted to lose herself, to forget the bad and to feel the good.

Even with the porch light on, she had a hard time getting the key in the lock, probably because her hands were trembling so badly. A heady combination of nerves and anticipation. She breathed a sigh of relief when Jack took over.

As soon as the door swung open, she yanked him inside and slammed it shut.

He turned the dead bolt.

She killed the light.

They collided in an explosion of lust.

Clothes flew and limbs tangled. Tongues dueled as Jack swept her into his arms and carried her up the pitch-black stairway. He knew this house as well as she did. A thousand memories assailed Kylie as he bumped open her bedroom door. Kid memories. Teenage memories. Suddenly, she was half her age and her dad and mom were only one room away. When Jack laid her on the double bed adorned with a pink bedspread and herd of stuffed animals, she bolted upright. “Can’t do this. Not here. Too weird.”

He whisked her away and into the hall. “Spenser’s room.”

“Is now Grandma’s room. Ick. And don’t even think about Mom’s room.” But even as she protested, she unbuckled his belt and unsnapped his jeans.

Jack backed her against the hall wall, kissed her deep and long.
Okay
, she thought hazily as his tongue swept over hers and suckled,
I can do this standing up
. She even fumbled with the zipper of her jeans as his hands caressed her bare breasts. But then he hauled her up and over his shoulder, much as he’d done on her drunken birthday. Had that only been a few days earlier?

“Jack—”

“Trust me.”

The air crackled with anticipation as he descended the stairs. All she could think about was getting down and dirty. She ached to know that the intense orgasm she’d experienced wasn’t a one-time thing. That he’d rock her world just as he had the night before. That he wasn’t a fantasy quenched, but a fantasy realized. The lover who’d satisfy her sweet and lustful yearnings again and again. The intensity of her desire nearly split her apart.

She needed Jack.

Inside her.

Now.

Draped over his broad shoulder, she slid her hand beneath the waistband of his jeans and cotton briefs and palmed his butt. Taut. Sexy. Oh, the things she ached to do to him. The things she prayed he’d do to her.

At this point Kylie didn’t care if Jack bent her over the living room sofa.

She breathed deep, willing her erratic pulse steady, and caught a whiff of apple cobbler and pumpkin pie. The fragrant mixed potpourri her mom used to keep the recreation room smelling fresh. Mostly this room had been a male hang—her dad and grandpa, Spenser and Jack and their friends—although, when she was younger, Kylie used to horn in on the fun. A pool table that doubled as a Ping-Pong table. A pinball machine and an old foosball table.

Oh, yeah. And a pullout sofa.

Kylie anticipated the feel of worn, soft cushions and instead felt the erotic bite of a harder surface. The felt-covered pool table. Holy cripes.

“Just so I’m clear,” Jack said. “This. Tonight. It’s just about sex.”

“This is as close to
just sex
as I’ll ever get,” Kylie said.

He grasped her chin and nipped her lower lip. “Understand you’re forfeiting flowery words of endearment.”

“In exchange for down-and-dirty, earth-rocking sex? Understood.”

“No pressure there.”

She smiled her naughtiest smile.

“Don’t move,” Jack said.

Move? She was paralyzed with anticipation!

He flicked on a small table lamp, filling the room with soft amber lighting and sexy shadows. Next she heard music.
Journey
—Spenser’s favorite eighties rock band. The cassette had probably been in the old player since the last time her brother was home.
Escape
was one of his favorite albums. “Don’t Stop Believing” was one of Kylie’s favorite songs. The raw energy of the rhythm and melody transported her to another world as Jack’s hands roved and caressed her naked torso. Or maybe it was his hot, possessive kisses that shot her over the moon.

She was delirious with need by the time he peeled off her dress and satin panties. Oh, my, God. Was she
panting?

“Flexible, huh?”

“Let’s just say I’m capable of most of the positions featured in the
Kama Sutra,
” she rasped as he smoothed strong hands down her thighs and calves.

“You’ve read the
Kama Sutra?
”

“Mostly I looked at the pictures,” she teased, heady with naughty anticipation as he clasped her ankles. Truthfully, she’d explored the book in a quest to link pleasure and spirituality. But the picture thing sounded sexier.

Jack’s grin was downright wicked as he urged her legs up and open. Suddenly, he hovered over her, his hands braced on the table, her ankles resting on his shoulders, his rock-hard shaft brushing her wetness.

She’d read about this position—the Deep One. Total penetration.
Oh, yeah
.

“You game, Tiger?”

Hopped up on an erotic rush of adrenaline, Kylie reached down and urged him inside. “Slide home, Jack.”

M
OONBEAMS SLICED THROUGH
the edges of curtains. Silence filled the apple-and-sex-scented air. Body and mind limp from an energy-charged day and sexually charged night, Kylie snuggled with Jack on the sleeper sofa. The pool table had been exciting, but the mattress was much more comfortable. Besides, now all she wanted to do was sleep. “Just sex is pretty awesome,” she whispered, overly exhausted.

“Just with me,” he said, close to her ear.

“Bossy
and
arrogant,” she teased.

He smiled and smoothed a hand over her bare hip, inciting a rush of goose pimples. “Kylie.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m having a hard time thinking about you with anyone else.”

“Me, too.” She couldn’t imagine anyone setting her body and soul on fire the way Jack did. “You’ve ruined me for other men.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me, too.” Eyes closed, she snuggled deeper into his strong arms. She didn’t want to think about yesterday or tomorrow. She wanted this moment to stretch on and on. She wished Jack would shut up, because she was pretty certain he was going to say something she didn’t want to hear.

“I’m a protective bastard.”

“I know.”

“And selfish.”

She managed to lift her head from his shoulder and regarded him through bleary eyes. “How so?”

“I want you even though I’m not right for you.”

Suddenly she was wide awake…or at least more alert. “Who says you’re not right for me?”

“I suck at marriage. I’m too committed to my work. Too set in my ways.”

“Your protective ways,” she ventured.

“Mmm.”

“Well, guess what? I suck at marriage, too.”

“You’ve never been married, Tiger.”

“That’s what I mean. I’m thirty-two and I’ve never even been engaged. Just almost engaged. And it’s not for lack of wanting a husband and family.”

“That’s another thing. Children. You want them.”

“Sure. Don’t you?”

“I’m not comfortable with the notion.”

Her stomach flopped. “But you’d make a wonderful dad. You’re so loving with Madeline.”

“She stole my heart the moment she first spoke to me. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if something bad happened to her.”

Kylie processed that comment and caressed Jack’s face. “And, by nature, if something bad happened to one of your own children, you’d be even more devastated. An understandable fear, but isn’t the potential joy worth the risk?”

He clasped her hand, gazed into her eyes. “Maybe. I’m not sure.”

Kylie grappled to make sense of this unexpected news. She put herself in Jack’s shoes, in the shoes of a homicide cop, and it clicked. “Is it because of your job? Because of the things you’ve seen?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Because you don’t want that stuff in my head?”

“Damned right.”

She wasn’t surprised and she even understood. Still… “Maybe you should talk to someone else. Someone neutral, subjective.”

“Like a shrink?”

“Well…yeah.”

“Saw a marriage counselor a few times. That was as close to a head doctor as I want to get.”

She wanted to shake him. “How can you keep all that
stuff
bottled up?”

“It’s my way.”

“Well, your way stinks. Maybe it’s time to step out of your comfort zone.”

“I already did. Numb was my comfort zone. Now I’m feeling again and it’s an adjustment, goddammit.”

Kylie fell back on her pillow with a groan. “Why did you have to bring this up tonight?”

“Because I know marriage and children are important to you and I don’t want to mislead you.”

“Noble,” she grumbled, “but annoying. Whatever happened to taking this slow?”

“I’ve never fallen for anyone so fast and certainly not as hard.”

Kylie’s heart bumped against her ribs. “Just when I was good and mad, you had to say something romantic.”

Jack pulled her into his arms. “Let’s not go to sleep angry, Tiger. You never know what tomorrow will bring.”

“Wise and cynical at the same time.”

“Something tells me I slipped off my pedestal tonight.”

She didn’t comment. As exhausted as she was, her mind was spinning like a tornado.

“What are you thinking?” Jack finally asked.

“That you’re trying to sabotage our relationship before it barely gets off the ground. What are you thinking?”

He kissed her forehead. “That I’ve finally met my match.”