The Heat Is On Read online

  “I know. You had it under the flowerpot. We’ll talk about that later.”

  She pressed her face into his shoulder. “You smell good.”

  “Yeah? So do you.” He buried his nose in her hair. “Like vanilla and sugar. Good enough to eat.”

  She squirmed at that image. “I made cookies.”

  “For the shop?”

  “For me.” She sighed. “It’s a destress thing.” She knew she was wrapped around him like Saran Wrap but couldn’t make herself let go. He was strong and solid, and she could feel the even, steady beat of his heart. Hers was still racing. “I’m not dressed.”

  “I noticed that.” If her voice was shaking from adrenaline, his was low and husky. His aroused voice, which added an entirely new element to her adrenaline rush.

  “Not that I’m complaining,” she said. “But what brought you here?”

  He didn’t answer, and it was her turn to pull back a little bit and look into his face. “Uh-oh.” She couldn’t see him clearly, but she could certainly feel the tension in him, tension she’d missed before because she’d been too busy recouping from the nightmare. “Jacob?”

  “I was just leaving work.”

  “This late?” It was ten-thirty. A long day by any standards, and she was quite certain his hadn’t been spent hanging out baking in a kitchen, or sitting and staring at the waves. He’d been out there, catching bad guys, and probably risking life and limb while he was at it.

  “It was one of those days,” he allowed, in what was undoubtedly an understatement.

  “Lots of bad guys?”

  “Always.” He paused. “And a late call came in.”

  More tension, she felt it in his thighs beneath her, in the chest she’d set her head on and in the arms he’d banded around her. She climbed out of his lap, stood and flipped on the light by her bed, because she had a feeling she needed to see his face.

  From the floor, he blinked, adjusting to the light as his gaze ran over her from head to toe, slowing at all the places in between. “God, Bella.”

  “I was hot.”

  His eyes flared, letting her know exactly how hot he thought she was.

  “I have to go downstairs in a few minutes and beat up some dough for the morning.” The fib popped out of her mouth automatically. But that’s how she operated, always giving herself a way out with a man. She called it her safety net.

  Except at the moment, for the first time in memory, she didn’t want a safety net, and regretted the lie the minute it left her lips.

  Jacob remained on the floor. He leaned against her bed, dropping his head back on the mattress and closing his eyes as if afraid to look at her too long. His dark silky hair was tousled, as if he’d shoved his fingers through it repeatedly. There was a grim set to his mouth, and fine lines of tension fanning out from his eyes.

  “You look exhausted,” she said softly, and came back to him, curling up at his side, mirroring his pose but setting her head on his chest instead of against the bed.

  He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in. “There was another shooting, Bella. The guy took a hit to the thigh, and should live.”

  She looked at him, but his head was still back, eyes closed. “Who?”

  “Banning Jefferson. You know him?”

  She let out a breath. She didn’t, not that it made it any less horrifying. “No. The name doesn’t ring a bell.” She relaxed slightly, grateful this one at least didn’t involve her.

  His fingers brushed low on her spine, against the bare skin between the hem of her tank and her low-cut panties. “Bullet type matches.” Lifting his head, he met her gaze. “In a big city, this wouldn’t be enough to connect the shootings, but here in Santa Rey, we don’t get shootings every day. Not even every month. So just having two in a matter of days is enough to possibly connect them.”

  They were close enough to share air, and one thing she already knew about Jacob, he was good up close. Very good. He had a way of looking at her, of touching her, like now, that made her feel both safe and sexy, and that was a lethal combination.

  Suddenly she wanted him to use those traits to help her escape, to forget the horror of finding Seth’s body even for a few minutes, and it was all she could do to resist setting her hands on his flat stomach, sliding her fingers over those hard muscles as she leaned in and took a bite of him—

  “Look at me, Bella.”

  She was. She was looking at his chest and wondering how long it would take to get him out of that shirt…

  “At my face,” he said with what might have been amusement.

  As if his face was any less dangerous….

  Adding an assist, he cupped her jaw and tilted it up to his, looking her over carefully with that intense, all-seeing gaze that made her want to confess to state secrets, and also take off what little clothing she still wore. She squirmed a little, working her way even closer to him.

  “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

  “Working on it. Jacob?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad I didn’t move to Siberia,” she whispered. “And I’m glad you didn’t move to Siberia.” She brushed her lips lightly over his. “I was really scared tonight. I’m glad you’re here.”

  He almost smiled. “You just want me to check for the boogeyman again.”

  She dipped her head and brushed another kiss on him, this time on his chest. “That would be great.”

  “Christ, Bella.” He ran a hand up her back, wrapped his fingers around her loose, unruly pony tail and gently tugged until she was looking up at him again. “What am I going to do with you?”

  Do me was the first thought that came to mind, but he rose and did his cop thing, thoroughly checking out the small apartment, even looking beneath her bed and in her bathtub.

  “There’s no one here but us,” she said when he came back.

  “I know.”

  “Then why did you search the place?”

  “So you could go back to sleep.”

  Which meant he was leaving. Disappointment settled in her belly, which was ridiculous. She’d been the one to formulate the escape plan. “Jacob?”

  He lowered himself to a crouch in front of her, running a finger over her temple, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah?”

  Reaching up, she cupped her hand around his wrist. “What are we doing?”

  “Other than checking for the boogeyman?”

  “Yeah. Other than that.”

  He looked into her eyes. “No idea.”

  “Casually seeing each other?”

  He thought about that a moment, then nodded.

  “How casually?”

  “Asks the woman with one foot already out of Santa Rey.”

  Fair enough, she supposed. She’d made a big deal out of leaving, and he knew it.

  “And I’ve done the long-term thing,” he said. “It doesn’t mix well with being a cop.”

  Right. She knew this, knew all of it, which in no way explained the ball of discontent deep in her belly. She managed a smile. “I know who you are, Jacob. Being a cop is part of you. No woman should ask you to change that.”

  “Yeah.” He grimaced. “It might be more than the cop thing.”

  “Such as…?”

  “I’ve been told I can be obstinate, single-minded and doggedly aggressive.” He said this with a tone of slight admission that it might all be true, and she laughed.

  “Well, hell, if you’re all that, forget about it,” she teased.

  “Bella—”

  “No, listen to me.” She grabbed his arms when he would have straightened. “Those are the very things that make you such a great cop.” And, she thought, a great lover. “You’re okay, Jacob, just the way you are.”

  He let out a slow, appreciative breath, then took her hand in his as he rose and walked to the front door. There he stopped and looked down at her, not smiling, but his eyes were warm as he leaned down to kiss her.

  “Bye,” she whispered.