WINDOW OF TIME (9 page)

More than that, though, she found herself wanting him just as much as needing him. He’d listened to her spill her guts about her secret, and he hadn’t been repulsed by the truth. He amazed her with his ability to accept. He believed everything she’d told him.

Lucy’s thoughts turned toward tomorrow. There was a report to write up outlining her being chased on the staircase and on the freeway by the men-in-gray. She also needed to explain, in a creative way, why she had to follow the last-ditch protocol of destroying her package instead of letting it fall into the hands of the foreign agents, lest her superiors question her actions.

Even if she did write about what happened, she’d probably be fired for lying on a report. Sometimes telling the truth just didn’t work. Lucy knew one thing for sure; she couldn’t let anybody at the agency find out about her curse, or she’d be royally screwed.

As hard as Johnny tried, he couldn’t close his dresser drawers without making noise. The pre-morning light filtering in through his one window didn’t help much as he tried to find his gym clothes. He had forty minutes to get over to the fire station and meet Dusty, or he’d never hear the end of it.

“Good morning.”

Johnny was forced to catch his breath when he turned and found Lucy standing in the doorway. Seeing her with her long hair tousled from sleep, and wearing his pajamas, forced an emotional regression back to his adolescence. Suppressing a strong urge to reach out and kiss her again, he ran his hand through his bed-head hair. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

She touched the wall, and the light turned on before she stepped into his room. “I don’t remember being asleep.”

Johnny grinned. “That’s good. At least you slept.”

“I still have a headache, just in case that was going to be your next question.”

“It was, actually. Why don’t you fix yourself an egg, and then you can have some more pain medication.” Johnny dug out his sweat shorts from the drawer. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Until then, you need to rest.”

Lucy stepped up next to him. “Where’re you going?”

He pulled a clean t-shirt from the top drawer. “I had a fairly bad reaction to that window on the staircase yesterday. I almost passed out after I caught you—”

“Did you faint?” Lucy asked quickly.

He turned toward her. “No, it wasn’t like your side effect. I couldn’t explain what really happened, so I promised my best friend that I would go and work out with him every morning to get into better shape.” He watched her eyes drop down to his chest and flicker over his shoulders as her smile appeared.

“I didn’t think you had a problem hefting me up. And I was struggling pretty hard.”

He stood a little taller. “Well, I let myself get soft.”

“Couldn’t be by much,” Lucy whispered. She pointed behind him. “I noticed you have a computer. Would you mind if I used it this morning?”

Johnny tossed his clothes on the bed before going to the desk. “No, of course not.” He touched the button above the keyboard and turned it on. “Give it a couple of minutes to boot up.” He found a pair of socks in a drawer. “Do you need to send an e-mail?”

Lucy sat down in the black vinyl office chair and watched the laptop go through its start-up. “Yes. I need to write up my report, and I need to e-mail it in.”

He picked up his running shoes from beside the bed. “What are your plans for today?”

Lucy swiveled the chair around to face him. “I was supposed to deliver my package today, but since that isn’t going to happen, I’ll have to write up my report and check for another assignment. I still have my house closing, and
then
I get to move my stuff over from my hotel room into my new home. At least, I hope I do.”

“That sounds like fun. Do you need a ride? I’ll take you out to lunch to celebrate your new house.”

“Don’t you work today?”

“We have twenty-four hour shifts on and twenty-four off, and I’m at the end of my rotation. I don’t have to be back to work for three days.”

Nodding, Lucy said quietly, “Then I’d really like that.”

The lost look in her blue eyes tugged at his heart. He couldn’t leave her feeling that way. Johnny lifted his phone off the dresser. “Do you have a cell phone?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Just give me a call if you need anything—”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I had my phone in my jeans pocket last night.”

It took a moment to remember the significance of what she said. “Is it ruined?”

“I took out the battery. I’m hoping when it’s dry it will work again.”

Johnny sighed. “After lunch we’ll go to the store and I’ll get you a new phone.”

“I’ll get myself a new phone.”

“But I gave it the shower.”

“And I fell asleep when you told me not to.”

Johnny sighed again. “I’m going to lose this argument, aren’t I?”

Lucy smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, I thought so,” he muttered as he found his gym bag under the foot of his bed. “Make sure you eat breakfast before you take any pills. I have a bottle of Tylenol in the top drawer of the bathroom cabinet. Only two tablets and no more.” He tossed his clothes into the bag. “The bottom drawer is full of free samples, including new toothbrushes and different flavored toothpastes from my dental hygienist visits. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He turned to leave.

“Johnny?” Lucy stood up, walking quickly over to where he waited. “I, uh, I don’t know how to cook.”

Standing before him was a special agent for the CIA. Yet with the way her beautiful eyebrows were scrunched together she looked as if she’d just let slip a secret vital to national security and she didn’t know how to take it back. He studied the carpet at his shoes and pursed his lips to control his smile. When the urge passed, he lifted his gaze and said, “Okay, then have some cold cereal.” But then he couldn’t help himself and smiled wryly. “You can pour milk?”

A moment of uncertainty passed before she grinned. “Yes.”

“Good. Drink some juice, too.” He let his gaze linger on her face for a few heartbeats while he decided how to say goodbye. But he didn’t have to settle on something appropriate for two people on the verge of a new relationship, when Lucy began to play with the scruffy patches of his day-growth beard. A moment later she leaned in and kissed his mouth.

“Have a good workout. I’ll try to be ready by the time you get back.”

If he could have taken a deep enough breath to respond, he might have tried, but he didn’t trust his vocal cords not to act as adolescent as his heart felt. Instead, Johnny nodded, turned, and left his bedroom, still feeling her kiss lingering on his lips.

~*~

In the hour or so Lucy had been awake, her curiosity about Johnny led her out to the garage again. Actually, she had a mission to complete besides snooping into his life. The jeans she had left drip-drying over the shower curtain rod last night hadn’t dried enough to put on this morning, and what kind of a self-sufficient man wouldn’t have his own washer and dryer? Sure enough, with just enough room to squeeze in front of them, she found the two appliances in almost new condition. Lucy put her damp jeans into the dryer, and she twisted the dial for thirty minutes.

There were cardboard boxes stacked shoulder high, running the length of the garage, and taped tightly shut. The only writing on the outside was a date from over eight years ago. How many of those belonged to his ex-wife? If they were Johnny’s things, why wouldn’t he have unpacked them? Didn’t he want them? His place was obviously under-decorated.

Running her fingers across the closest dusty box, Lucy tried to imagine its contents. Were they his? Or hers? She grasped the edges, lifted the container, and shook it once before setting it down again. As she tapped her fingernail on the top, she gazed over at the other boxes. There were so many. A whole house full. She couldn’t stand the intrigue any longer and went back to the living room to get the switchblade she kept hidden in her boot.

Lucy squeezed the recessed button with her thumb and sent the blade out with a cool, metallic swish. A quick slit of the tape between the flaps and she could look inside. Reaching into the box, she lifted out a pink baby blanket still in its package. Underneath, other unopened packaged baby necessities were stored away—all in a pink theme. Lucy immediately regretted prying into his past life as a sad realization sank into her heart. “I’m so sorry, Johnny.”

Gazing around at the huge stack of other boxes in the garage, Lucy felt somehow he was holding on to his ex-wife by not getting rid of her things—his child’s things. Now she was glad she didn’t get him to talk more about his marriage. His disappointment and hers were much too close. Lucy had always wanted a baby. She replaced the blanket and wove the flaps of the box together before going back into the kitchen.

After she ate a bowl of Cheerios, Lucy took her Tylenol. During a hot shower, she carefully washed her hair, wishing she had her blow dryer.

As she got dressed in the bathroom, Lucy considered herself more than lucky that she’d had Johnny to take care of her last night. Running into him at City Hall had been a blessing. Smiling, she remembered how he’d tried to save her from falling off the staircase. His natural inclination was to help whether he knew her or not. They’d be spending the rest of the day together, a thought that made her heart beat faster.

She had almost finished dressing in her own clothes. All she needed was make-up to bring out some color in her face. Too bad it was back in her hotel room.

Her headache still pulsed in her temples, and she supposed it might not go away for days. Considering she and Johnny had lived through a terrifying window, a little headache was a fair tradeoff.

Just as she slipped on her shirt, she heard the garage door open. Johnny was home, and her heart began to race. As she began to button her top, Lucy walked out of the bathroom and into the living room, where a woman was standing in the kitchen.

“Well, I can see why Johnny wouldn’t take my calls last night.”

“What?” Lucy pulled her shirt closed, clenching the edges with her fist.

“I hope he got you out of his system.”

“Who are you?” Lucy asked sharply, reaching behind her back, but her gun wasn’t in its usual place.

“I’m Monica.”

Lucy glanced toward the garage, remembering all the boxes, and got a sick, sinking feeling. “Are you Johnny’s ex—”

Monica cut off Lucy’s question. “If you expected anything more than a one-nighter, then I need to tell you that he always comes back to me. Always!” She pointed to Lucy’s unbuttoned shirt. “Now if you’re done putting your clothes back on, I’d appreciate you leaving.”

“He lied to me?”

Monica crossed her arm over her chest. “I’m sure Johnny got what he wanted from you. Now get out!”

“Wait—” Lucy held out her hand, trying to stop time from moving forward. “If you’re his ex-wife, then why are your things in his garage?”

Monica blinked rapidly before answering. “My place is too small.”

Lucy shook her head trying to understand. “You don’t seem surprised to see another woman in his apartment. Why is that?”

“You aren’t the first, but I will be his last. Now get your butt out of here before I kick it out.”

Lucy balled her hands and moved closer. Monica fell two steps back. “Don’t threaten me. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

“You’re not wanted here.” Monica’s voice wavered only slightly.

Not wanted? I’m not wanted!
The headache that had plagued Lucy for the past twelve hours suddenly disappeared. Actually, she couldn’t feel anything except anger.

Johnny had lied to her. She’d told him secrets she’d kept hidden in her soul—gave them to him, and for what? He’d left in a hurry, like he was sneaking out. He’d lied to her to try to get what he wanted. He’d invited her to his bed, but she’d fallen asleep, and all he’d gotten from her was information. Lucy felt like a fool for believing someone so quickly. It was a mistake—one that she wouldn’t let happen again.

“Do another set.”

Johnny groaned, but he did as his friend told him. He lay on the bench looking up at the ceiling, hoisting an iron bar weighted at each end with a hundred pounds of metal. As the muscles in his arms and shoulders and chest burned hot as a fully engulfed car fire, he concentrated on Dusty counting down to one. Finally Dusty grabbed onto the bar next to Johnny’s hands and helped him set it up on its cradle. Shaking out his arms, Johnny sat up, breathing hard.

“I knew you could do it.”

“What? Survive death by torture?” Johnny wiped a towel across his face and around his neck, then looked at his watch.

“You in a hurry?”

“What?”

Dusty sat down on the next bench and lifted a thirty-pound dumbbell. “That’s the sixth time you’ve checked your watch. Are you meeting Monica this morning?”

“No,” Johnny said instantly. Then he regretted the speed with which he answered. “I mean, what makes you say that?” He watched the big man lean forward and curl the weight up to where his forearm met his bulging bicep. After seven more reps, Dusty shifted it to his other hand.