When the Heart Lies (5 page)

Jackson’s expression became serious; he pushed his plate aside and leaned in toward her. “Hey, joking aside, are you okay?” His eyes solidly embraced her.

“I’ll be all right. I’m just down.” The struggles of the last three months with Wayde bundled and embedded themselves in her. The weight of life was all over her. Too many men, too many secrets, and too little money. She had backed herself into a corner by cutting all financial ties to Nick before leaving New York, another passive aggressive ploy to spark him into taking her seriously that backfired.

“Take a walk with Jackson and me after dinner,” Scar said.

She smiled a fake smile because she didn’t have a sincere one to her name and tried to sound upbeat. “Sure, maybe getting out of here will do me some good.” She wasn’t sure, but she
thought she noticed a private glance between Jackson and Scar when she answered. She wondered what was up.

After they resolved to help pick up her mood, the three finished their meal without much small talk. The quiet was welcome; she didn’t want to try to keep up the ‘I’m okay’ act anyway, not when visiting hours were later in the evening and meant spending time with Wayde. If she were fortunate, he’d bring Max. She’d be uneasy until she saw him. Going for a walk with Jackson and Scar would keep her mind occupied, but she’d have to appease Wayde tonight. If she’d learned anything in the last three months, it was to strive to stay on his good side. Life became a whole lot easier, survivable. She imagined getting friendly with Jackson wouldn’t be the right direction. It was only a walk, she reminded herself.

~ ~ ~

Once they got their passes and headed outside, Jackson guided them down the outermost path that led to a small lake. He could’ve led them blind folded, he was so familiar with the grounds. Before the hospital was built, his mother would take him to the lake to fish. Those were some of his earliest and happiest memories, and since he’d been watching over Kinsley, his memories popped up more frequently. Remembering his mother the way she was during those happy times was bittersweet. Because her smile and playfulness faded over time, the change in her stayed with her until the day she died. He was eight-years-old. He recognized the same overall listlessness in Kinsley when he observed her. She would play with her son and laugh, smiling for the love of him, but when her boy wasn’t near, her features became drawn and heavy. She carried a burden just as his mother did. He felt the desire to change that. Maybe because he wanted to lift his own burdens.

After his mother’s death, he avoided places like the boathouse that had been special to them. Other than this morning, when he dropped off some supplies for his bogus stay as a patient, he hadn’t been there in a long time.

Several palm trees and tall grasses, growing on the outskirts of the water, surrounded the pristine lake, and as expected, the standard ‘Beware of Alligators’ signs stuck up out of the water. Beyond the lake, the path began to lead into an area with dense foliage, and further into the dense landscape stood the old boathouse, now in use as a hangout and grounds storage. He headed toward the small structure and stopped close to the door.

“What is this place? And how do we get in?” Kinsley asked.

Scar laughed teasing her. “Jackson has privileges.”

Raising an eyebrow, Kinsley peeked from beneath her lashes and looked at him. “And just how do you get those?”

He gave her a suggestive smile, which broadened when he saw her blush. “I’ve got skills that some people around here find irresistible.”

“Oh, get out,” Scar said and pushed him playfully. “He fixes the groundkeeper’s parking tickets.”

“You’re a cop?”

“Not anymore. Private instigator.”

“His top pick up line.” Scar smiled and choked back laughter.

“Like I need a pick up line.” He purposely flashed a leading man smile.

Scar pushed him gently again, rolling her eyes, and Kinsley laughed at the obvious insult he’d taken from the comment.

“How do you two know each other?” Kinsley asked.

“We’re related,” they said simultaneously.

“I’m her uncle.”

“I thought you seemed familiar with each other. So again, how’re we supposed to get into this place?”

He grabbed the key he’d hidden twenty-five years ago under a small Angel statue that sat nearby, held it up, and smiled. “It’s very simple if you have the key.” Opening the door, he beckoned them in as if they were entering a royal palace.

Straight ahead, the sitting area had a sofa, a chair, and a small table with a lamp. Stuck in the corner was a fat, sea foam green, stainless steel refrigerator. Plucked right out of a home and garden magazine circa 1950. The gardening supplies were stacked and neatly assembled in the room beyond. A nice setup, considering it was in use as storage.

Scar grabbed the chair, and Kinsley took the couch with him. He found the way she hugged the arm of the sofa to keep her distance adorable. The thought of her needing to keep her distance, as much as he wanted her not to, was promising.

Scar reached under the sofa, grabbed a small wooden box, and opened it, revealing a joint. “How about relaxing. Can we?”

He was aware Scar used the boathouse when she stayed at Lakeside, and only mildly surprised by her obvious activities. He glanced from Scar to Kinsley and hoped she wasn’t offended; he waited for her sign of approval. She smiled, shrugged, and they continued talking. He’d been watching Kinsley secretly for the entire three months she had been living at Wayde’s, never getting closer than the telescopic reach of his binoculars, and they rarely left his eyes when she was in view. Now, here she sat. After all this time, he still had a hard time pinpointing what drew him to her. Yes, she was beautiful and sexy, but he came across beautiful women all the time. Her uniqueness left him with an aching need to find out more.

After talking a while, Kinsley asked, “Are we going smoke that or admire it.”

He stood, took the joint from Scar, and turned back to Kinsley. He knelt down in front of her and lifted it to her lips. God, how he wanted to kiss those lips and forget he was there to do a job. In many ways, he already had. As she took the joint into her mouth and closed her lips around it, his eyes lingered, just for a moment, until they met hers again. She inhaled deeply as he held up the lighter. He didn’t move. After a couple seconds, she let the smoke drift out slowly and cocked her head to the side, giving him a challenging look.

When she spoke, her voice came softly, dragging the words out. “Maybe you should’ve lit it with the stare you’re burning into me.” She kept her eyes on him, her lips didn’t curve, but her cheeks and eyes were telling. She was smiling.

“Ah…I’m outta here,” Scar said and headed for the door.

When the door closed behind her, he took a seat in the chair across from Kinsley. His hand drew up to his chin, and his fingers slid across his lips a few times before he spoke. “Well, you’re full of surprises aren’t you?”

She smiled as she reached over and handed him the weed, her scoop neck T-shirt falling open just enough. He inhaled deeply and watched her watching his chest rise and fall. Her eyes continued downward. He smiled when, on her ascent, she met his eyes and realized he’d caught her sizing up the goods. She let out a giggle. He laughed, too, happy to see her that way. He hadn’t seen her like that often.

She closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the sofa. Her slender neck stretched out long, in perfect position for him to slip his hand in from behind and pull her soft, full lips to his. It wasn’t long before he was imagining her dark hair spilling onto his face and chest and feeling the weight of her moving in perfect rhythm above him. He could see himself taking hold of her sweetheart ass and pulling her in as she moved. When she was close enough, she would lower her lips, and he would taste her, smoothing her silky hair beneath his hands as he held it off her face. He could picture this in his mind as clearly as she sat in front of him. His affections where entering dangerous territory. Until now, he’d always kept his work separate from his private life. Fantasies needed to be put in check. She opened her eyes, and he quickly shifted, trying to make it appear he had not been staring yet again.

She met his gaze, and her lips spread into a soft smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wander off.”

The languidness of her eyes made him wonder if her thoughts had wandered anywhere resembling the vicinity of his. And the pressure mounting in his groin reminded him once again to maintain a clear perspective. This is work, a case, nothing more. He was lying to himself. This was becoming personal. It was the case that was getting in the way. “No, it’s all good; we’re here to relax.”

“We kind of ran Scar off,” she said.

“Nobody runs Rayne off. She just knows when to make an exit.”

Her face bunched in confusion. “Rayne?”

“That’s her name. She started having people call her Scar, and it stuck.”

He swung his legs over the side of the chair and leaned back accessing the puzzle before him. She simply appeared sweet and at ease, no posturing, no typical womanly vies for his attention. Those rarities made him even more determined to find out what it was about her that was sucking him into a place he’d never been and always swore he’d never be. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful. Wanted to throw her down onto the sofa and make love to her. Hell, who was he kidding? He wanted to fuck her, ravish her—and then make love to her slowly, taking in her very essence as he did.

“I’d love to sit here all night,” she said.

The sweet sound of her voice, only imagined before today, broke into his thoughts. “Yeah, me too. We should get going though. I don’t want anybody wondering where we are.” He didn’t give a shit what people thought, but he didn’t trust himself to behave if they were alone much longer and decided leaving would be a good idea.

They tidied up. He locked the door and placed the key under the statue. Quietly, they walked back. The long stretch of silence was comfortable.

He stopped walking and circled in front of her. “I’d like to see you tonight after everything dies down.” He watched as she sucked in a breath, unknowingly raising her breasts in offering while her face revealed a contrasting resignation. Tonight, would be strictly work, he reminded himself. He needed information. But the ache in the center of his chest made him acutely aware he needed to connect personally as well. He pushed the nagging thought of boundaries out of his head. “I’m harmless, just talk,” he said. “And let’s face it; anything is better than sitting in a hospital room.”

“I’d like to, but you should be aware I’m kind of, well, in the middle of something.”

He reached out and brushed her hair over her shoulder.

“Everybody’s in the middle of something.”

“I suppose. But I have to see my son tonight if he comes. I won’t be able to think if I don’t know that he’s okay. Once I see him, if I see him, I’ll come.”

“I’ll take care of meeting up. Just expect me.” He held a thought. “Maybe we shouldn’t head in together. Why give people reason to wonder what we’re up to? How about you go back the way we came, and I’ll follow behind you?” He laid his hand lightly on the small of her back. Her body tensed.

She stood motionless, not breaking the connection.

He smiled inwardly, pleased his touch had an effect on her. From behind, he whispered in her ear, allowing his breath to graze her delicate skin. “I think you’re supposed to scram now.” He nudged her forward.

Red faced, she turned, bounded forward, and headed back toward the main building.

~ ~ ~

No one noticed Kinsley go into the building. She went directly into her room. In case any odor lingered from the marijuana, she threw on a clean, lavender colored tank top, washed up, and brushed her teeth.

Visiting hours started soon; she hoped Wayde would bring Max, but she was unsure if he’d come at all. She tried to think of some things she wanted to say to him, to get her mind off what her body was experiencing after her visit to the boathouse. Jackson’s kindness and gentleness seemed so intimate. Staying on task with him would be the equivalent of standing and balancing in the middle of a teeter-totter.

She felt ready to face Wayde and make him understand she was serious about leaving. He wouldn’t make it easy, but she couldn’t put it off any longer.

Plopping down onto her bed, she imagined Max running to her with open arms, his eyes smiling. She couldn’t wait to hug him and kiss his sweet little cheeks. She almost fell asleep until one of the nurses knocked on her door to let her know she had visitors.

Here we go.

Immediately, she got up and headed to the dining area. She spotted Max. He saw her and came running just as she’d pictured.

“Mommy, Mommy!”

“Aw baby, I’m so glad to see you.” She squeezed him tight and gave him kisses all over his face.

He wiggled around in her arms, giggling. “Mommy, I can’t breathe.”

She released him from the unyielding hug. “I missed you so much.”

“You coming home tonight?”

“I’ll be back soon. You be good, and do what you’re told while I’m gone.” She sat in the seat across from Wayde. “Max, come sit on my lap while I talk to Wayde.” He settled into her lap, and she reluctantly regarded Wayde. “Thanks for bringing him. I didn’t know if you would.”