Next To Die Page 15
Vinny hooked a right and they were bearing down on his oceanfront condo. He whipped in behind her car and turned his engine off. “When you’re ready to share your life with me, let me know,” he said. With that, he stepped out of the vehicle, rounded it like a true gentleman, and pulled her door open.
She got out on leaden legs.
He stood intentionally in her way, forcing her to brush by him. Every nerve in her body flexed with awareness. The air seemed to crackle as memories of their last kiss shortened her breath.
Can’t we just have sex and go our separate ways?
She didn’t dare articulate the question. Not only did it belittle their attraction, but it made her seem like a slut. She was beginning to glean that Vinny didn’t do one-night stands. For whatever reason, he wasn’t your typical twenty-year-old opportunist.
On the other hand, how naive could he be, asking her to share her life with him? Young love rarely lasted, and she wasn’t about to invest the best years of her life in a relationship that was doomed to fail.
Hence, it was up to her to do the mature thing and walk away.
“Good-bye, Vinny.” She kissed his cheek, feeling the tension in his jaw. He jammed his hands into his pockets as he watched her get into her own car and take off.
She tried not to look back, but a quick glance in her rearview mirror showed him standing where she’d left him, looking like the rug had been ripped out from under his feet.
“Shit!” Lia swore, striking the steering wheel with her palm. Her body ached with unfulfilled desire, her heart throbbed with the morning’s unexpected happiness, and her conscience swelled with the guilt of how badly she’d treated Vinny in the face of his concern. But Lia couldn’t let herself dwell on any of that.
She had weightier matters to consume her, like whether she and Penny were next on a killer’s hit list.
Chapter Twelve
Joe wasn’t so drunk that he couldn’t walk home. Beneath a moonless sky, the invisible sidewalk felt as treacherous as the mountain pass where his reconnaissance team had run into insurgents. He stumbled over cracks in the cement. Cars sped by him, headlights blinding him, taillights streaming.
The air was clear and cold. It nipped at his ears and went straight through his jeans and sweatshirt. He was in Virginia Beach, right? Not wandering through the Hindu Kush in a delirious haze.
The tang of the ocean and the smell of exhaust reassured him.
Shit, he never should have hit the sports bar after working out at the gym! But the call he’d received from Millington, Tennessee, informing of his new orders, had gotten him so agitated that he’d pushed himself at the gym. Then, instead of going home, he’d showered and driven to the nearest pub.
On his third shot of whiskey, he realized that even with a Saturday-night crowd pressing in on him, he was drinking alone, wallowing in self-doubt, thinking, What if I get more men killed?
He’d looked around the bar, wanting consolation, an easy stranger to help him forget the awful responsibilities looming before him. Eye contact and a receptive smile would get him what they always had—the company of a beautiful woman. If anything, his disfiguring scar got him more notice than ever from the opposite sex.
It would take very little effort to pick a woman up and take her home. Usually just three words did the trick: Navy SEAL officer. But come morning, nothing would be different. He’d still have this crushing sense of doom weighting him down. The only person in the world who could make him feel better by bolstering his confidence, soothing his self-doubts, was Penny.
The realization had had him pushing aside his drink with relief. He’d paid his tab and left.
But then he’d had to walk the three miles to his house because he was too drunk to drive.
As he turned down the street that led to his subdivision, Joe began to jog. He turned in to his neighborhood at a run, sprinting past his home and through Penny’s yard to the lights shining warmly in her windows.
Twin beams of bright light leaped out of the darkness, accompanied by voices that caught Joe completely by surprise. “Halt! Police! This is the police! Get your hands up! Hands up now! Get your hands up and keep them up!”
Joe tried to stop, but his body was slow to respond as commanding voices closed in on him. Through the glare of blinding lights, he made out two uniformed officers. Their guns were drawn and pointed specifically at him. Joe checked the impulse to launch a counterattack. “What the hell?” he demanded, even as one of them continued to bark orders at him.
“Put your hands behind your head and get down on your knees.”
It dawned on Joe that the police must have set a watch in hopes of catching Eric. “Stupid fuckers,” he muttered, including himself in that number. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen them. He kneeled on the frost-covered grass, his jeans going instantly damp. Every household in the vicinity was witness to what was going on. Son of a bitch.
“Wait!” With relief, Joe looked up to see Penny flying toward him in her slippers and bathrobe. Lia stood at the door with a hand over her mouth.
“Ma’am, stay back! He could be armed!”
“This is not who you’re looking for!” Penny snapped furiously. “This is my neighbor. For God’s sake, stop yelling and waking the entire neighborhood!”
That’s my girl, thought Joe as she rushed over and helped him to his feet.
“Your neighbor?” repeated the cop. Joe flinched as the man’s flashlight plumbed his eyes.
“Yes, he’s my neighbor,” Penny insisted. “I called him and asked him to come over.”
She secured an arm around Joe’s waist, keeping him steady.
“He was running at your house like he was going to break the door down,” the officer insisted.
“He was out jogging. Weren’t you, Joe?”
“Yep,” he said.
“He’s a Navy SEAL,” she added, throwing out the fact like it was a badge of honor. “He has to keep in shape.”
“Navy SEAL, huh,” said the second cop. “Could I see some ID, please, sir?”
Joe fished out his wallet and handed him his military ID. He detested falling back on rank to pull him out of trouble, but it did the job, every time.
“Oh, sir,” said the first cop, who paled when he noted Joe’s pay grade. “We’re—ah—very sorry to bother you, sir. You have a good night sir. Good night.”
They handed the ID back and beat a hasty retreat to their patrol car. “Huh,” said Penny, clearly confused by the change in their demeanor. “Come on in, Joe. It’s freezing out here.”
He couldn’t wait to step into the warm, cozy house of a woman who hadn’t had sex in five years. Whoa, he wasn’t even supposed to think about that. But was she horny all the time, or had she gotten to the point where she didn’t need it anymore?
Penny shut the door behind them, pulling back to send Joe a searching look. Ophelia had magically disappeared. “You’ve been drinking again,” Penny accused. “And you’ve been in the cold so long your cheeks are chapped. That is just awful for your burn. How do you expect it to heal?”
Damned if he didn’t love being scolded by her! With a quick step forward, Joe pulled her back into his arms and hugged her for warmth and reassurance. Filling his head with her roselike scent, he felt the stress slip right out of him.
“Are you okay?” she asked, tipping her head back to give him a worried look. “Joe?”
“Better now,” he replied.
“Come on in the family room,” she urged. “I’ve got a fire going.”
He loved fires, especially the outdoor kind, under a star-spangled sky in the desert. Squatting before the hearth, he held his fingers to the heat, lost his balance, and landed on his butt. The flames mesmerized him, beating back the self-doubt he’d been wrestling with since the detailer’s call.
“Drink this,” said Penny, reappearing with two mugs. She handed him one, then eased down beside him.
It was fragrant, scalding tea. As he blew on it, he
took closer note of her cotton nightgown and blue velour bathrobe. “You were going to bed,” he observed.
“I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway.”
There was something in her voice. “Why not? What’s going on?”
“Eric’s dead.”
His synapses backfired. “Dead? How’d he die?”
“He was shot in the head. It was supposed to look like a suicide, but his car was run off the road, and another set of footprints was found on the scene.”
The hairs on Joe’s nape prickled. In other words, murder. “The terrorist who bought the ricin,” he guessed.
“Most likely,” she agreed.
“That’s why the cops are out front. They’re protecting you.” Jesus. He ran a hand through his hair, then searched her face for the fear she had to be feeling.
There it was, in the tremulous smile she gave him. He wanted to hug her for being so brave.
“So, what has you running up to my door at midnight?” she inquired, lifting her chin.
It took him a second to remember. “Oh, yeah. I got new orders today.”
Her eyes flew wide. “To where?” she gasped.
“Right down the road. Dam Neck Naval Annex. I’m going to take command of Team Twelve.”
She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. But then she gave him that look that made him feel transparent. “And that made you drink tonight,” she realized out loud. “Why, aren’t you happy with your orders?”
He had to look into the fire. “It’s a lot of responsibility,” he hedged.
She waited for more. Her silence wrapped around him, giving him time to voice what he’d felt all afternoon since the detailer’s call.
“I think about what happened when I took command of a four-man squad. This time I’ll be in charge of forty guys. I’m . . . scared I’m gonna make a call that gets more guys killed.” His voice shook.
“Oh, Joe.” And there she was, slipping an arm around him, resting her cheek briefly on his shoulder. “You’re going to do fine, better than fine. You were born to lead others, and you know it. What happened in Afghanistan was not your fault, but it will make you a better leader, Joe. You, more than anyone, will understand what you’re asking of your men.”
He’d known she would reawaken his self-confidence without lying or flattering him. He sent her a grateful smile, and their gazes locked. Without a trace of forethought, Joe kissed her, lightly, on the lips.
Her indrawn breath had him realizing his mistake. “Sorry,” he said. But he wasn’t really, because her mouth had been soft and sweet, just like he vaguely remembered from the night he’d passed out. He just had to kiss her one more time.
She didn’t resist. In fact, she parted her lips in welcome, moaning faintly as he rubbed his tongue with hers.
The room started to spin again. “Whoa,” Joe laughed, pulling back. “I’m still drunk,” he added as a means of excusing his behavior, covering up his astonishment that she could taste so good.
The hurt he glimpsed in her face made his gut wrench. He wanted to explain that he didn’t trust himself not to hurt her. Their burgeoning friendship was special. He didn’t want to ruin it. “I should go,” he said.
“You don’t have to,” she whispered softly.
“Call me,” he added, ignoring her scarcely uttered invitation. “If anything happens and you need me, I’m right next door, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” she said, looking down at her hands.
He got to his feet, careful not to touch her again. Her vulnerability had a powerful pull on him. He wanted to give her what she’d been missing all these years, except she had expectations of sex that he didn’t have.
“’Night,” he said, heading straight for the door. “Sweet dreams.”
Penny shut the door and turned the deadbolt. She drew the edges of her gown closer and sighed at the throbbing emptiness inside her. The only way her dreams would be sweet was if Joe had stayed and . . .
What? she asked herself. Slept with you? Kept you up all night?
Yes! After five years of celibacy, she deserved a night of abandonment.
And what would you expect after that? argued her reason.
“I don’t know,” she conceded. She’d always expected to marry and raise a family. But with Joe, those expectations would get her nothing but heartache. Maybe she could harness them.
If he even wants you, mocked the inner voice. He’d walked away pretty damn fast.
Shaking her head in confusion, she turned and plodded up the stairs to retire alone, again.
Lia pushed through the exit at Wavy Television Studios with confidence in her stride. I got the job! she marveled, tamping down the urge to do a happy dance.
Slidel and Holmes, her police escorts, watched her waltz into the sunshine. She drew herself up to walk like the professional she was, briefcase in hand, to her car.
The human-resources office had called her for an interview on the same day they’d received her résumé. They were looking for a field reporter—articulate, tenacious, with a nose for news.
“I’m your girl,” she’d told her interviewers, a former news anchor and his male secretary. She’d folded her legs just so, flashing her cream-colored stockings and drawing their attention to her slim calves, proving—once again—that it’s not what you know but how you use it that gets the job done.
All those years of taking drama back in high school had paid off. Not once did they realize that beneath her woolen charcoal suit, she was suffering through cold sweats.
“We’ll call you this afternoon with an official offer,” Mr. Grady promised her. “But I can tell you right now that you will love working for this station. I’ve been happy here for twenty years.” He’d pumped her hand enthusiastically, his gaze dipping toward the satin ribbon that peeked over the lapels of her jacket.
She wasn’t certain she was all that qualified for the position, but what did it matter? They were going to pay her a decent salary, with benefits. Not only could she afford her rent again, she might even buy a new car!
Best of all, Vinny might just see her on the news.
She envisioned him slapping his forehead. Oh, man, I could have had that woman! He could have. She’d been right there in his bedroom with the alcove overlooking the ocean, all hot for him, praying he would rip her clothes off. Instead, he’d taken her bowling.
Okay, maybe he had his act together. Maybe he looked like the responsible adult, with a thing or two to teach her about growing up. But those days were over. Ophelia Price was getting her shit together now.
And she couldn’t wait for him to realize it, either.
Hell, she could rub his nose in it this very minute—without having to share her life with him.
Slipping into her car, she reached for Penny’s cell phone and snatched up the Post-it with Vinny’s contact information on it.She dialed his number, then gazed out the window at the fountain in the manmade pond, hoping to leave a message.
“Yo, this is Vinny.” He sounded full of energy and impossibly young. And he was there in the flesh in the middle of a weekday.
“It’s Lia,” she said, caught off guard by that. “I just wanted you to know that I got a job. I’m a field reporter for Channel Ten.”
“Well, well,” he said, with more warmth than she could’ve hoped for. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you. I’m surprised you’re home. It’s two in the afternoon.”
“I get off early on Wednesday so I can go to class,” he explained.
“Oh. Well, I don’t want to make you late.” At the same time, she didn’t want to hang up yet.
“Actually, I was thinkin’ of skipping class today and taking my Harley for a ride.”
“You do not have a Harley,” she countered, suddenly breathless.
“Yeah, true, but Westy does, and he said I could borrow his whenever I wanted.”
She had no idea who Westy was, but, “Oh, my God.”
“Wanna go for a ride
?”
“Uh . . .” Yes, but she had a slight problem. Her police escorts would pitch a fit if she tried to hop on a bike with a total stranger. “I need you to pick me up somewhere,” she said, tingling with sudden excitement.
“Sure. Like where?”
She gave directions to a boutique on the oceanfront. “Meet me in the alley in the back, by the employee exit,” she instructed.
“Okay.” His tone was suspicious, but he didn’t ask.
“I’m still in Portsmouth,” she added, hurrying now to start her engine and back out of the parking lot. “I’ll need twenty minutes to get there.”
“See you in twenty,” he said, and the phone clicked in her ear.
Vinny knew trouble when he smelled it, and when Lia slipped out the back door of the jewelry boutique smelling like a million dollars, he knew he was going to find himself in a pile of shit eventually, and he honestly didn’t care.
Wearing a gray suit with cream-colored stockings and pearl earrings, she looked chic and sexy. Her golden-red hair was twisted up into a knot. The spikes on her high heels qualified them as weapons.
She took his breath away, and that was before he even noticed the coy satin string that cinched up whatever she was wearing underneath. God have mercy, because he knew that Ophelia Price wouldn’t.
He wanted her in his life, forever.
“Who are you hiding from?” he demanded, handing her a spare helmet.
“Don’t worry about it.” Her turquoise eyes glimmered like gemstones as she hiked her skirt to leap on board behind him. Whatever she was up to, she was enjoying the hell out of her herself. “Just get me out of here, fast.”
Calculated risks were an everyday affair for Vinny, but there wasn’t much calculating going on in his brain as he squealed out of the alleyway with Lia plastered to his back.
She wanted a onetime deal, he reminded himself. And she was still keeping secrets. Since once would never be enough for him, he had to find a way to keep her coming back.
It was Joe’s last physical-therapy session. As Penny eased her thumb into the serratus posterior inferior to the right of Joe’s spine, she savored the velvety texture of his skin and the density of his muscles, wishing she could touch him this way forever, wishing he was hers.