The Heat Is On Read online

  “Yes,” she said, then asked him the question she’d been wondering all day. “Are you Jacob’s partner?”

  “We work together sometimes, but not on this case.”

  Something in his voice had her taking a second look at him.

  “Conflict of interest,” he clarified.

  She hesitated, knowing that they both knew she was the conflict of interest. “Is he in trouble?”

  He started to say something and then stopped.

  “Is he?”

  “For being with you? No. For not being able to keep his nose out once he’s feeling protective about someone he cares about? Not yet, but give him a day or two.”

  “We’re not together. It was…just a one-night thing. You need to make sure your commander, or whatever he’s called, knows that. I don’t want Jacob to be in trouble over me.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  She nodded, ignoring the unease in the center of her gut, and got out of the car. She looked at the front door to the shop. Edible Bliss, the cute little paisley sign read. The interior was just as unique. Done up like a sixties coffeehouse, the colors bold and happy.

  And just a little psychedelic.

  She loved it here.

  But at the moment, she also hated it.

  There was still yellow crime tape blocking the front door. Willow was sitting on the steps. She was forty, tiny, with a dark cap of spiky hair tipped in purple this week. Her eyebrow piercing glinted in the sun as she watched Bella approach with a worried tilt to her mouth.

  It’d been a while since Bella had stayed anyplace long enough to make friends, been a long time since she’d wanted to, but Santa Rey had snagged her by the heartstrings.

  So had Willow. They’d spent only a month together, but it felt like more. She sank to the step at Willow’s side. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Not your fault.” Willow had sweet, warm eyes and a smile to match, and she hugged Bella tight. “We don’t see a lot of murder in Santa Rey,” she murmured. “They asked me a bunch of questions and I didn’t get to ask any of my own. Do you suppose they have any leads?”

  “At the moment, I might be their only one.”

  Willow pulled back, clearly shocked. “They suspect you?”

  “I think it’s standard procedure to suspect everyone.”

  Willow was quiet a moment. “It’s probably not appropriate to ask, given what’s happened, but I never got to ask you. How did last night go? Date number eight?”

  In spite of everything, Bella felt herself soften. “Nice.”

  Willow blinked, then let out a slow grin. “Honey, a smile that like means a whole helluva lot more than nice.”

  “Yes, well, it got complicated.”

  “Uh-huh. Most good stuff is. Is he good looking?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good kisser?”

  “Willow—”

  “Oh, come on. I haven’t had a date in three months. Let me live vicariously through you.”

  “Yes,” Bella breathed on a whisper of a laugh. “He’s a good kisser. But—”

  “Oh, crap. There’s a but?”

  “A big one, actually. He’s the detective assigned to this case. Or he was, until it was established that he’d slept with the person who found the dead guy.”

  Willow stared at her. “Oh, shit, Bella.”

  “Yeah. That about covers it.”

  They stood together and walked past the yellow tape to the alley between the building and the one next door. It was narrow and lined with two trash cans. Passing through, they came to the rear of the shop, where there was more yellow tape across the back door.

  Bella took in the sight of the stoop and shivered. Willow hugged her, then they took the stairs to the second-story landing. Her boss moved to her door. “You going to be okay?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Willow blew her a kiss and vanished inside her place.

  Bella entered her own apartment, where she stripped, pulled on her bathing suit and headed back out, walking the block to the beach. The boardwalk stretched out in front of her, but she didn’t walk it as she normally did. Today she wanted to swim. Hard.

  This particular beach drew sunbathers looking to soak up the California sun, and fishermen seeking fish and crab. It was a popular spot, and not much of a secret, but this afternoon, there wasn’t a crowd. Standing at the water’s edge, Bella stared out into the waves, inhaling the warm, salty air. The scent was intoxicating. With a purposeful breath, she let loose some of the tension knotting her shoulders and neck, and kicked off her flip-flops. She dropped her towel to the sand, and then her sunglasses on the towel, and without pause, dived out past the waves. There, she swam parallel to the shore for half a mile, and then back.

  By the time she walked out of the water at the same spot she’d started, the sun was slanting lower in the sky, perched like a glorious burning ball hanging over the horizon.

  The beach had completely cleared. Instead of the pockets of families dotting the sand, there was only the occasional straggler. She bent for her sunglasses, slid them on, then straightened, coming face-to-face with Detective Jacob Madden.

  He looked her over slowly, taking in her dripping wet suit without a word. He wore the same loose jeans and the shirt she’d seen him in earlier, and still had his gun at his hip. The shirt was snug across his shoulders and loose across the abs she had every reason to know were flat and ridged, as she’d spent some time running her tongue across them.

  All day her thoughts had drifted to him.

  He was easy to think about. He looked great when he was smiling. He looked great when he was just standing there. Hell, he looked great naked and sweaty, and that was hard to do—no pun intended.

  He was wearing dark sunglasses and looked like a movie star. She squeezed the water from her hair, quiet as she eyed him. “Definitely Tall, Dark and Drop-dead Sexy.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well, maybe drop-dead aren’t exactly the right words today.”

  He grimaced, and she had to let out a low laugh. “Are you embarrassed?”

  “No. I don’t do embarrassed.”

  But he was. She could tell, and she shook her head. “You do own a mirror, right?”

  He ignored that, probably out of self-defense. “I wanted to know if you were okay.”

  “I was thinking of asking you the same.”

  “I’m not the one who had a pretty rough morning.”

  “Are you sure? Because I hear you lost a case just by sleeping with the chick who found the dead guy. I’m really sorry if it was because of me, Jacob.”

  “I’m a big boy. I’ll be fine.”

  She nodded, but the tension she’d just worked so hard to swim off had come back. Worse, her stomach chose that moment to rumble, loudly, reminding her she hadn’t eaten all day.

  He arched a brow, and she shrugged. “Listen, I’ve got to go.”

  “You’re hungry.”

  Usually when she shooed a man away, he went. And stayed gone.

  Not Jacob. He stood there, hands on hips, unconcerned that she’d just dismissed him. “I’m thinking they can hear your stomach in China. Let’s get something to eat.”

  Here was the problem. She wanted to gobble him up. But she wasn’t going to get him in any more of a bind. “I’m fine.” Again her manners got the better of her. “But thank you.”

  He was quiet a moment, then blew out a breath when she shivered. He bent for the towel she’d left on the sand and handed it out to her. “Bella, I—”

  “Look, I hate that you got in trouble for me, okay? And I know you did.” She dried herself off.

  “I’m not in trouble.”

  “You got taken off the case!”

  “I took myself off the case. Officially.” He paused. “Unofficially, I’m still involved.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Let’s just say I feel invested.”

  “In the dead guy?”

  He just looked at