Firebreak (Josie Gray Mysteries #4)(67)
“I know this room like it’s a room in my own home. I imagined any number of people coming in here. I imagined saving you a hundred different ways. I would have laid down my life for you in a heartbeat.”
She breathed in suddenly, his words catching her off guard.
Nick ran his hands up her arms and stepped closer, the heat of his body on her skin.
“I’m no good at this,” she said again. “The romance and all of this just eludes me.” As the words came out she felt ridiculous. He made her nervous. He was out of her league on so many different levels. With his back to the window his face was in shadow, but she could sense the smile on his face.
“Do you trust me?”
She thought for a moment and had no other answer but “Yes.”
“We all have talents, right?”
She nodded, smiling again.
“Romance is a talent of mine. Let me show you how it works.”
“You’re going to school me in the ways of romance?”
He laughed. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“Tell me what the first lesson is, and I’ll consider it.”
“Okay. Number one, stop thinking about romance like a cop.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Think about your words. Eludes? School? Lesson? These are not words that a man associates with lovemaking.”
She laughed and felt his hands pulling her shirt out of her jeans, slowly, the fabric sliding against her skin like silk.
“Here’s the problem. You’re asking me to be unanalytical. I should be free to think any way I want.”
“Josie.” He ran his fingertips up her arms. “This doesn’t have anything to do with thinking. It’s all here.” He touched a fingertip to her chest. “You feel it, you don’t think it.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around. “You said you trust me.”
She nodded once.
He lifted her shirt up over her head and dropped it to the floor. He pressed his thumbs into the sides of her spine, slowly working down her back, whispering her name and kissing her neck until her thoughts faded away.
TWENTY
At seven o’clock that evening, Marta stumbled out of bed to stop the buzzing alarm clock going off on her dresser across the room. Following the debriefing meeting with Josie and Otto that morning, she had gone back home to putter around in her cactus garden behind her house. She had finally lain down at noon to get a restless seven hours’ sleep before her shift that night. Marta loved her job, but the shift work kept her from ever feeling truly rested.
By the time she arrived at the Hell-Bent, at eight o’clock, she found a sea of pickup trucks parked helter-skelter in the field behind the parking lot. Marta had never seen it so packed. Hank needed someone directing traffic or she would end up with a half dozen accident reports to write up before the night was over. She went inside and offered to park cars for Hank, who seemed beyond overwhelmed and appreciative of any help he could get.
“This is insane, Marta. I’ve never seen so many people, and it’s still early. I hate to do it, but I may have to turn people away before it’s over. The fire chief will shut me down if I get too many more people in here.”
They both looked out across the dance floor, which was filled with people milling around in groups, laughing and crying and drinking beer. “I’ll call the sheriff’s department and see if we can get some deputies over here tonight,” Marta said. “You’re going to need it.”
After calling the sheriff’s department for backup, Marta walked the parking lot with her clipboard and paper. Parking cars was a good excuse to get the information Josie had requested. Marta wrote down the make, model, and license-plate number of every dark-colored, four-door truck in the lot. By ten o’clock she was caught up with the list of plates and was helping the deputies park the vehicles in the field in rows.
By one in the morning, Marta had a list of twenty-four trucks that fit the description, and she’d arrested two drunks for disorderly conduct: a productive night. Two deputies agreed to continue working the parking lot and taking names. Marta dropped the list off at the police department and clocked off at 2:00 a.m.
*
At seven o’clock on Sunday morning, Josie received a text from Mitchell Cowan asking her to come by the coroner’s office. He had results. She rolled over, her phone still in her hand, and looked at Nick, who was facing her with his eyes open.
“I like you, Josie.”
She laughed. “I like you too, Nick.”
He propped up on his arm so he could study her better. “This isn’t a normal thing for me. You asked me last night what I wanted from you. I want more than a kiss. But my life is seriously screwed up. You know that. And yours isn’t much better.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. “Have I told you I’m not very good at this?”
He smiled then, and lay back down. “This is a good situation. If we’re both screwed up, and neither one of us knows what we’re doing, then there’s no expectations. Right?”
Josie lay on her side with her head now tucked into his arm. “I’m not sure this makes sense right now. Dillon just left. I was with Dillon for years. Aren’t there rules about rushing into relationships? Rebounds and whatever?”