Seeing Red Read online

  At his car, she stopped. “You said I could drive next time.”

  “One more next time.”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow,” she said, her voice craggy.

  “Yeah.” He didn’t want to think about it.

  “You coming inside tonight, Joe?”

  He stared down at her bent head, her hair in his nose and so full of smoke he nearly choked. Try to resist this one, Walker. “Yeah, I’m coming inside tonight.”

  She set her head on his shoulder, and didn’t open her eyes as he walked her around the car. She didn’t move anything more than her feet, as if doing so was too much of an effort for her poor, exhausted body. “You called me baby,” she whispered. “Before.”

  “Did not.”

  She let out a ghost of a smile. “Know what I think? I think I still have a shot at getting your friendship back.”

  “Is that what you want? Friendship?”

  “Well friendship with benefits would be nice. But after having to beg all of my family to like me for the past three weeks, I can’t handle another rejection, so you’re safe.”

  Is that what she thought? That she had to beg him to like her? Couldn’t she see the truth all over his face every time he so much as looked at her? “Red—”

  “Did you throw out the chips I brought you?”

  “No. I ate them. Every last one. And then bought more. I’ve had to run an extra mile every day since, damn it.”

  She laughed, then winced, clutching her throat.

  “Don’t. Don’t talk. Don’t do anything.” He got her in the car. Eyes closed, face pale and filthy, her lips curved into a wry smile as he pulled the seat belt across her hips and fastened it for her.

  “You’re good at that,” she said.

  He took an inappropriate second to sweep the hair out of her eyes. And then another to take a gentle swipe with his thumb over her filthy cheek. And then one more to just look at her. Christ, he was bad off. “What am I good at?”

  Lifting up a hand, she held his fingers to her face. “Taking care of people.” She turned her mouth into his palm and kissed it, then let out a shuddery sigh. “And you know what else?”

  He was absolutely certain that the look in her eyes should not make his heart soft. Or that the feel of her lips on his palm make the rest of him the very opposite of soft. “What, that you talk too much for a woman who should be resting her vocal chords?”

  “No.” A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “I was going to say the way you shoved to the front of all those other firefighters to get to me was really sexy.”

  He sighed.

  “And also, you’re cute when I make you squirm.” She actually laughed softly. “I have more chips at home.”

  “Oh, goodie.”

  “And a heavenly ranch dip.”

  “You’re going to kill me.”

  “Yeah.” Her eyes were still closed. “It’s really a shame I’m too messed up to take advantage of you tonight, Joe. This newfound quiet sarcasm you have going turns me on.”

  She thought she was messed up? She should jump into his head. “Yeah, too bad.” And he put the Camaro in gear and drove her home.

  Chapter 10

  The engine of the Camaro lulled Summer as Joe drove. It felt good not to move, but the problem with drifting off into la-la land was that it all came back to her in vivid detail.

  Waking up in the beanbag chair.

  Surrounded by smoke.

  Facing her nightmare.

  She’d been saved by the grace of her cell phone. As long as she lived she’d never forget the long breathless wait for the sirens, which in reality had probably been only a few minutes, but had seemed like an eternity.

  Trapped.

  And all she’d been able to think about as the smoke filled the room around her, as she’d finally been forced to lie flat on the floor for any air at all, was that she couldn’t die, not like this, not like her father. She hadn’t lived enough, damn it. Granted, she’d lived hard and good and well, but not enough.

  She started in surprise when Joe scooped her up. She hadn’t even realized he’d turned off the engine, or heard him come around and open the passenger door, but now here she was, in his arms, being carried toward her front door.

  He felt warm and comfortably solid, and so achingly familiar she wanted to hold on tight and never let him go.

  “Keys?”

  She frowned and tried to think, but it was beyond her.

  “Never mind.” Still holding her as if she weighed nothing, he strode around the back of the small cottage and shouldered open the unlocked back door.

  “How did you know?”

  “You never used to lock your back door. Where’s your bathroom?”

  “Down the hall.”

  He passed through the bright sunshine yellow kitchen, down the hall and straight into the bathroom. Setting her on the counter, he flicked on the light, making her blink in the harsh brightness of it. The small pale blue room was well lived in. The lace shower curtains were flung over the top of the rod because she’d taken a bath that morning. Her towels were still on the floor, as were her favorite peach bra and matching panties. She had her things scattered over the counter: her favorite body lotion, a fistful of scrunchies in every color under the sun, her big round brush, her strawberry cream lip gloss, and an assortment of other necessities.

  “First-aid kit,” he said, looking baffled by it all. His eyes darted around, landing on her peach panties.

  “There’s some Band-Aids in the drawer.”

  He went hunting through the messy drawer, past a box of tampons and hair dryer without a word, but the box of condoms stopped him.

  “Three,” she said to his unasked questions.

  He lifted his gaze to hers.

  “Three are gone,” she clarified. “You wanted to know, right?”

  “Not really,” he muttered, and shoved the box to the back with more force than was necessary.

  She put her hand on his wrist and waited until his eyes swiveled back to hers. She was aching from the cuts on her legs now, her throat felt as if she’d swallowed glass, and her head…she was certain some little guy with a jackhammer had made himself at home between her eyes. She’d lived through a nightmare tonight and yet suddenly she felt like smiling at the brooding look in Joe’s eyes. “None of the stuff in that drawer is mine,” she told him. “It all belongs to the person who rents this place full time, who is Chloe’s college roommate. I told you about her, remember? She went home to Maine for the summer.”

  To his credit, he laughed a little at himself, then it seemed to back up in his throat when she pulled one foil packet from the box and tucked it into the front pocket of his jeans, her fingers brushing his gun as she did so. “Just in case,” she murmured.

  He went still for a breath, then busied himself finding some antiseptic to go with the Band-Aids. He straightened with both in his hands, and no longer looked remotely relaxed.

  Not that he’d been relaxed to begin with, but his jaw was all bunched and the muscle in it was leaping. His eyes were like smooth glass but filled with things he’d kept to himself.

  He unraveled her from the blanket and nodded to her skirt, which was stuck to her in places, with little spots of blood soaking through. “Lift it.”

  Instead, she held it down, feeling oddly self-conscious. “The paramedics already looked at the cuts.”

  “But you didn’t let them put anything on them.”

  “And what makes you think I’m going to let you?”

  He simply bunched the material of her skirt in his hands and firmly but gently shoved it up.

  “Hey—”

  Leaning in, he put his hands on her thighs, holding her skirt up, his face right in hers, eyes flashing, mouth grim. “I watched you get dragged out of that inferno tonight, watched you relive an old nightmare. A nightmare, by the way, you never let me help you through the first time.”

  “Joe—”

  “Back then I had