The Stranger Next Door (8 page)

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Authors: Chastity Bush

BOOK: The Stranger Next Door
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“I understand. That’s one big bed,” he said lightly, nodding toward the massive, four-post structure in the center of the room.

“Oh, yeah. It’s a California king. I sleep in one the same size.”

Grinning wickedly, he met her eyes. “I like a big bed. More room to … move.”

He watched as she fought, and failed, to suppress a shiver. He moved back to gaze out of the wide bay-style window.

After a long moment, she moved to stand beside him at the window. They stood in silence, gazing out over the open lawn. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

Jack turned to face her. The sun was already starting to rise, casting rays of pale yellows and pinks across the sky as its light filtered through the window, outlining her soft silhouette.

For a moment, with her soft, pale skin, her ethereal glow, and petite frame outlined by the early morning sunlight, she reminded him of a fairy.

“You didn’t get me into anything. I want to be here,” he assured her. Reaching out, he smoothed a lock of hair from her face. “To protect you.”

The need to bend his head and take her lips beneath his in a gentle caress held him in its grasp, nearly overwhelmed him, but he couldn’t, not yet.

Although he was experiencing feelings for her, it was still very early in the game. So early, in fact, he was still reeling from the fact he was already as attracted, as in need of her as he was. It was mind boggling, but he couldn’t deny what he felt.

Not to mention, there was no real evidence, other than the small hints of attraction she’d displayed, that indicated she would welcome his advances.

Allowing his fingertips to linger on her skin a moment longer, he let his arm drop to his side and watched the expressions flicker across her face.

If there was one thing he knew about Tess, it was the fact that, no matter how hard she fought to hide her emotions, they were always visible in her expressions. “It-it’s been a long night,” she stuttered. “There are towels in the closet. If you need anything, I’m right across the hall. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen,” she finished quickly as she hurried from the room, closing the door soundly behind her.

After Tess made her hasty getaway, he pulled his bag of toiletries from the duffle bag then turned and headed into the bathroom for a hot shower. It’d been a long day. More had happened in the last twenty-four hours than in one of his usual workweeks.

Opening the shower’s glass door, he reached in and twisted the knob. Hot water streamed down as he stepped away to strip off his clothing. Once nude, he stepped beneath the heavy downpour.

A mystery surrounded Tess, one he was anxious to solve. He knew she had no idea what was going on. She was as flummoxed as he and the other officers had been. But something was there; he could feel it. Something was about to happen, and it would center on Tess.

Scrubbing his hair, he felt his PI instincts kick in.

He possessed ways of finding things out others had no chance of discovering. He was a private investigator. There was no reason he couldn’t snoop around a bit, see what he could dig up.

Rinsing his hair, he quickly finished his shower, his mind already constructing a to-do list. He’d start with a little investigation into her partner’s family and close friends. It was the logical place to begin, seeing as how his wife had been a recent murder victim and now Tess had almost been kidnapped.

Stepping out of the shower, he dried himself off and brushed his teeth. Walking out of the bathroom completely naked, he contemplated his actions as he pulled back the heavy comforter and slid beneath the heavenly soft sheets.

Lacing his fingers behind his head, he closed his eyes.

Dean was a touchy subject with Tess. He’d been her partner and best friend for the greater part of her life. If she found out he was looking into Dean’s past and the lives of his family and friends, she’d be furious.

But it had to be done. He’d call Robbie later in the day. For now, he needed some sleep. The sun would rise in less that an hour, and the day ahead was already shaping up to be a full one.

Taking a deep breath, he relaxed and finally drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Eight

Despite the fact she’d slept less than four hours before the kidnappers attacked, sleep eluded her.

Gazing up at the ceiling, she sighed.

Nothing about the last twenty-four hours made a bit of sense to her. She lived in a peaceful, secluded neighborhood, and yet, she’d been attacked in her garage in broad daylight and nearly carried off in the middle of the night, all in the span of one day.

Going over the news she’d received only hours ago, she shook her head. Who was after her and why? What would someone get out of torturing Melanie? What secrets could she have possibly held they wanted desperately enough to torture her?

Or were they all blowing this entire situation out of proportion?

There were murders all over the city, many without a motive, some more grisly than others. Wasn’t it possible this was one of those cases?

As much as she wanted to believe that was the case, the fact that nothing had been stolen from the house lingered at the fore of her mind, telling her she was just fooling herself if she believed that simple explanation. That brought her right back to Melanie and the likelihood she knew something someone wanted. But no matter how she looked at it, the entire situation didn’t make a bit of sense.

Just when she’d thought her life was going to finally be set back on track, this happened.

Now, not only was it possible she was next on some psycho’s hit list, she had the sexiest man alive living right across the hall.
Could things get any worse?

With his inconceivably good looks and clever wit and charm, she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to resist Jack. But she had to. She liked Jack, and the fact that she’d unintentionally dragged him into this possibly dangerous situation tore at her already guilty conscious. If she became involved with him intimately, and there really was someone dangerous after her, he’d be in even more danger.

But he was so hard to resist…

Her head started to pound.

Jack’s comment about the big bed in his room had sent such salacious images slithering about in her mind she’d nearly tossed him to the bed and started ripping away his clothing right then and there.

Even now, she couldn’t get his image out of her head. Shifting restlessly, she groaned. It was obvious from his actions toward her he wanted more than simple friendship. Earlier, she’d believed he was going to throttle Officer Holdings. All he’d done was touch her hand in an attempt to comfort her, and Jack had turned stone-faced and silent, with the exception of his unmistakable growl. She felt comfortable with Jack, more comfortable than she’d ever felt with a man. It was hard to believe, hard to explain, but it was the truth. A truth she couldn’t deny. Perhaps she was going about this all wrong. What would it hurt if she gave in and became more than just friends with Jack? Would it really be that bad if she just let go and let what would happen, happen?

He was in her home, protecting her, of his own accord. Putting himself in danger for a woman he barely knew. None other than a good man would do such a selfless thing.

Unless he’s up to something
.

Rubbing a hand over her eyes, she groaned restlessly. Sometimes she wished she could kick this suspicious nature of hers to the curb. Jack had done nothing to invoke her suspicions. It was unfair of her to suspect Jack’s good nature for anything other than what it was, Jack being a good person.

She was trying to get her life back on track. Maybe the comfort and solace he seemed so intent on providing her with was exactly what she needed. Maybe being in his arms would help her see what she needed to do with her life, with her very self.

Or it would bring complications like the ones she’d earlier contemplated. And if something happened to Jack because of her, she’d never forgive herself.

Tess hadn’t been with many men in her life; in fact, they could be counted on the fingers of one hand.

Other things had always taken precedence over her private life, first school, then the academy, and finally her job as a police officer. Had she lived her life alone too long? Is that why she ached for Jack’s touch after only hours of knowing the man? She already knew the answer to that question. Yes. And now that Dean was gone, she’d secluded herself even further, moving away from what friends she did have.

Snuggling deeper into the satin bedding, she squeezed her eyes shut and hoped the answers to her questions would be easier to find once she’d gotten some much-needed sleep. Things would look better in the morning … she hoped.

Breathing deeply, she relaxed as the gentle hands of sleep grasped her tightly and carried her away.

* * * *

The sound of pots and pans rattling snapped her from her fitful slumber. Rising onto her forearms, Tess pressed the hair away from her forehead with her hand and listened intently as more noise from below drifted up to meet her ears.

Turning slightly, she spotted bright rays of the sun’s light peeking through the curtains. Grabbing the bedside clock, she gaped at the big red numbers glaring mercilessly at her.
Five o’clock p.m.
She’d slept the entire day away.

Flopping back onto the pillows, she groaned. The temptation to lay there the rest of the night, in her own little world, was ever so tempting. But the clang of another pan sounded, and at the thought of food, her stomach rumbled.

Jack must be cooking. Do men cook?

As far as she knew, the answer to that question was a resounding no.

“What’s he up to?”

Deciding it best to go downstairs and see for herself, Tess swung her legs over the side of the bed. Grabbing the robe off the foot of the bed, she tied the belt and headed toward the bathroom. After brushing her hair and teeth, she pulled on a loose pair of jeans and a t-shirt before heading downstairs. She could come back up and shower after she ate. She was too hungry to wait, and the delicious scents wafting up to meet her were prickling her curiosity.

It’d been a long time since she’d shared a place with anyone. She wasn’t sure how well she’d be able to cope with another person living in her house, invading her space, but she didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

The much-needed answers she sought hadn’t come to her while she slept, which was no surprise. The situation she currently found herself in was too big for such a simple solution. She’d have to let the answers come to her in their own time.

In the meantime, she’d take things one day at a time. Let what would happen between her and Jack happen. If fate, destiny, or whatever it was, was knocking at her door, who was she to keep it locked out? With the decision made, she continued down the stairs.

Stepping off the last step and passing through the large entry area, she reached the kitchen doorway and froze.

Jack was cooking. But as odd as that seemed, it wasn’t what made her pause to gape with appreciation.

His appearance caused her skin to heat and sent an ache straight to her core.

Standing next to the counter, Jack was busily mixing something in a large bowl, while wearing nothing more than a pair of low-slung jeans and a pink apron.

Letting her gaze slide over him, she soaked in the delicious sight. Her breath caught in her lungs with every ripple, every shift, of his muscular form.

His taut, slightly tanned skin, the muscles of his shoulders, chest, and arms, rippled as he moved around her kitchen. Her gaze slid lower to his flat stomach covered by the pink apron. She remembered the small, thin trail of dark hair that led, and then disappeared, into the waistband of his jeans before lowering her eyes to his well-sculpted legs encased in faded denim and finally settling on his bare feet.

“I could get used to this,” she whispered to herself as she continued to watch.

“Oh, you're up.” He smiled. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Snapping her gaze to his face, she shook her head. “No, I was awake. What smells so good?” she asked quickly, trying to hide the blush burning her cheeks.

She needed to get herself together or she was going to be in one hell of a mess. If she didn’t think things through and ended up acting rashly, she’d regret it later.

Just let what happens happen.

“Pancakes.” He grinned. “I thought you might be hungry when you woke up.”

“That was thoughtful,” she said quietly. She walked to the coffeepot, removed a cup from the cabinet above the sink, and poured herself some coffee.

“I can’t believe I slept so late,” she said, stifling a yawn as she took a seat at the table.

“I’ve only been up for about an hour,” he said lightly. “I figured you could use the rest; it was a long night.”

Nodding in agreement, she sipped the coffee while admiring him from the corner of her eye.

“So, you cook?”

Grinning over his shoulder at her, he chuckled. “I can understand why you’d be surprised. Some men can’t cook to save their lives. The only thing my partner can cook is cereal.”

She chuckled.

Grabbing a heaping plate of pancakes in one hand and a large plate of bacon with the other, he placed the food on the table before turning back to the cabinet to retrieve two plates and silverware.

“I live alone, and after a while, takeout gets pretty old. I figured I’d better learn how to cook or I’d starve. So I did. Learn to cook, I mean.”

Smiling, she nodded and accepted the offered plate.

They worked in comfortable silence as they placed pancakes and bacon onto their plates and poured on syrup before digging in.

Much to her surprise, the food was delicious, and before she realized it, she’d finished her second helping.

Pushing her plate away, she leaned back in her chair and groaned. “That was delicious. Keep it up and you’ll be cooking every meal in this house,” she teased.

Smiling, he replied, “It wouldn’t bother me. I actually like to cook … now that I know how.”

Gathering their dishes, they worked together to clean the kitchen. She could feel his gaze on her as she worked alongside him; she felt it as keenly as if he’d reached out and touched her.

“You said you live alone?”

She couldn’t figure it out. Jack was kind, considerate, knew how to cook, and was beyond sexy. A man like that should have an entire slew of women hanging off his arm, but he didn’t. Why? Unless there was someone and he just hadn’t mentioned her, which Tess figured was most likely the case. Either way, she needed to find out. Just the thought of Jack with another woman twisted her insides with jealousy, jealousy she knew she shouldn’t have, but did.

And the thought of her lusting after the man when he might have a loving partner somewhere ate at her just as fiercely. Adultery was something she couldn’t stomach. Dean’s wife had cheated on him openly and without remorse, and she couldn’t stand the thought of being the other woman. That just wasn’t who she was, or ever would be, but the more time she spent with Jack, the more she found herself wanting him, and it was starting to frighten her.

When he nodded, she took a leap and forged on. She needed to know. “So I take it you don’t have someone … special?”

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