Lisa Jackson's Bentz And Montoya Bundle Part 184

He nodded, but she could tell he wasn't taking her seriously. "Your secret is safe with me."

"It's not you I'm worried about," she pointed out, padding into the kitchen and opening the cupboard, though she knew she was out of coffee. "And admit it, you got off on opening the door."

"Bristly this morning, aren't we?"

"'We' had a short night. Remember?"

He came up behind her and circled her waist with his arms. "Vividly. And it was a great night," he reminded her, his breath ruffling her hair.

She thought about kissing him, about falling back onto the unmade bed, but she really didn't have a lot of time. "There are just some things about Mai that bug me. She asks too many questions, wants to know all about my personal life, and then she doesn't cop to what she really wants. Now, at least, I kind of understand why: she's all about Dad being an ace detective."

"Kind of?"

"Who knows if she's telling the truth? I just don't trust her."

His hands fell away. "You don't trust anyone."

His remark cut harder than it should have. She slammed the cupboard door shut and turned to face him. "Oh, G.o.d...I'm becoming my father!"

"Isn't being a detective what you're trying to do here? All the"-he made air quotes with his fingers-"'investigating' about the missing girls. I'm no psychologist, but it seems to me you're trying to prove something to dear old Dad."

"I trust people, though, okay? I'm not...like him."

"Not much," Jay said, his smile quick.

She narrowed her eyes at him. And she was still irritated with Mai, sure there was more to the story than just some interview for the school paper.

Jay wisely let the subject drop and opened the refrigerator door. Bruno was at his side in an instant. "Sorry, Buddy, not much in here."

"I keep meaning to go to the store, but it's a low priority."

"We won't starve," he a.s.sured her, and managed to pull out what remained of the pizza, three cold slices wrapped in wrinkled foil. "Breakfast."

"No way."

"You got coffee?"

"No. I'm out. I've got one tea bag and a couple of bottles of beer, but that's it."

"Too early for beer. Even for me. And no thanks on the tea. You want a slice?" He opened the aluminum foil and offered up the congealed pizza.

She took one look at the brown hamburger, with its hint of white fat all stuck together, over withered olives and onions and thick tomato sauce, and her stomach turned. "It's all yours. I think I'll grab something at the restaurant. They've got a breakfast sandwich called a MacDuff, which is kind of a rip-off of a McDonald's Egg Mcm.u.f.fin. Maybe I'll try it." She glanced at the clock as he, still only in his boxers, rested a hip against the counter and chewed the cold pizza without bothering to heat it in the microwave. Bruno, ever vigilant, sat at his feet, eyes on the prize, tail sweeping the floor whenever Jay looked down at him.

Kristi shuddered and turned away. This hanging out in her apartment was a little awkward. And already one person had found out they were lovers. In the past, while she and Jay had dated, they'd never lived together, so this morning was a little difficult to handle. She didn't really know how this relationship, if that's what you'd call it, might or might not develop.

"I'm going to shower. I've got a lot of things to do today, which, unfortunately includes work."

He nodded. "Me, too. At the house." He brushed his hands together and Bruno sniffed for crumbs on the floor. "Then I have to answer some e-mails and grade some papers, including yours."

"Be kind."

"After last night I'll be harder on you than anyone just so no one can claim I'm biased."

"Don't get crazy. And no one's going to know about this, remember?" she reminded him, though she doubted Mai would keep her mouth shut.

"I'm free for dinner."

She gave him a look. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"My turn." He crumpled the tin foil and tossed it into the trash, then located a paper towel to wipe the grease from his fingers. "You've been doing all the asking lately."

"The other night, when I smoked you at darts, that was not not a date." a date."

"Right." His eyes, no longer puffy from sleep, glittered a deep amber at her obvious irritation. "So I'll meet you back here. When do you get off work?"

"Two-thirty or three, I've got lunch today. Depends on the crowd or lack of it. But then I've got to finish a couple of a.s.signments, and I want to go online and check out the chat rooms later."

"So call me and we'll hook up." He walked into the living area, grabbing his jeans off the floor as he pa.s.sed them.

And just like that they were a couple? She wondered at the wisdom of rekindling their romance, but decided, for the moment, to go with it. "Okay."

"I want to see what goes on in the chat rooms as well. And Wagner House."

"Yeah, me, too."

He scrounged on the floor for his clothes, then shook out his shirt. She dragged her gaze from his bare legs, all sinewy muscle, taut skin, and curling dark hair as he stepped into his Levis. Just seeing him dress did strange things to her insides, and the simple fact that he seemed oblivious to his effect on her made him more fascinating. G.o.d, what was wrong with her? Surrept.i.tiously she watched as he threw his shirt over his head, stuck his arms through, and stretched slightly, lengthening the flat of his abdomen as he pulled the shirt over his shoulders.

Lord in heaven, he looked good. Too good.

She turned away as his head came through the neck of his shirt. "I thought you promised to tell me about that nightmare," he said, patting his pockets and making his keys jangle. Once a.s.sured they were where he wanted them, he reached for his shoes. "Remember it?"

"Yeah." She felt as if the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees when she recalled the b.l.o.o.d.y pool riddled with severed heads of the missing girls. "Oh, yeah."

"Want to talk about it?"

She shook her head. "Not now...maybe later."

He was putting on a shoe but stopped and looked at her, concern etched on his face. "That bad?"

"Pretty bad."

His frown deepened as he wiggled one foot into a shoe, then laced it up. "Want me to come to the diner with you?"

She shook her head vehemently. "I'm fine. Really." She just didn't want to go there, not now. "I'll tell you about the nightmare later, okay?"

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely."

"If you say so." He finished with the other shoe, then said to the dog, "Ready to go?"

Bruno emitted an excited woof and turned circles at the door.

"I'll take that as a 'yes.'" He winked at Kristi. "So I'll see ya later."

She was nodding, expecting him to cruise out the door any second. But he surprised her. He crossed the few feet separating them and grabbed her so quickly she gasped. "Hey-"

"Didn't think you'd get rid of me that fast, did you?"

"What?"

He kissed her. Hard. His mouth melding over hers, his arms holding her fast against him, his tongue slipping between her teeth. Memories of the night before washed through her brain. It would be so easy to tumble back into bed.... She wound her arms around his neck as he broke off the kiss and touched his forehead to hers. "Don't forget me."

"You're already just a memory," she teased.

He laughed. "Remember to be careful." Before she could answer, he released her, and with the dog at his heels walked out of the apartment.

She heard his steps, light and quick, as he descended the staircase. She closed the door, locked it, then, shaking off all thoughts of making love to him, of getting involved with him, of falling in love with him again, she pulled off her oversized T-shirt. She had too much to do to think about the complications of a relationship with Jay McKnight....

Oh, Lord, a relationship? What the devil was she thinking? And the fact that her mind even skimmed the thought of falling in love with him...well, that was just plain nuts. Dropping her T-shirt onto the floor, she stepped out of her pajama bottoms when she felt it again...that silly little notion that she was being watched.

She shivered. There was no one in the apartment and the window shades were drawn. No one could see her. No one.

And yet she sensed hidden eyes, watching her every move.

"Guilt, for sleeping with Jay," she told herself, but she yanked the bathroom door closed and locked it.

She turned on the faucet, adjusted the spray, and waited for the water to heat. Stepping into the small gla.s.s cubicle, she pushed all thoughts of some unseen voyeur out of her head and took one of the shortest showers of her life.

Aunt Colleen's house could wait, Jay thought as he drove to the cottage to drop off the building materials he had stored in the back of his truck.

It was threatening rain again, the sky gloomy, the defrost mechanism on his truck struggling with the condensation that had collected overnight. As it was early Sunday morning, traffic was thin, a little heavier by the churches.

As far as Jay was concerned his battling cousins, Janice and Leah, could b.l.o.o.d.y well cool their jets as well. Oh, they'd probably start pushing him again, especially Leah with Kitt, her do-nothing of a husband. Kitt spent his time getting high and jamming with a garage band and dreaming of becoming a rock star. Kitt saw his dead mother-in-law's cottage as a gold mine and a way to prolong his status as an out-of-work musician. Jay understood that his cousins needed to sell the place and Jay intended to keep up with the renovations, but right now, he had more important things to consider.

Uppermost on the list?

Kristi Bentz's safety.

Leah's d.a.m.ned granite countertops and stainless steel appliances were a far-off second.

As soon as he unloaded the pickup and cleaned up, he intended to return to her apartment and go over it carefully with his evidence collection kit, though what he expected to find eluded him. It had been months since Tara At.w.a.ter had lived in the unit, and there was no indication that it had ever been a crime scene. But if a prowler had broken in, there was a chance he'd left a fingerprint or latent shoe print or hair or something...maybe.

Jay didn't know what to believe. The place had seemed undisturbed.

But the studio apartment had belonged to Tara At.w.a.ter and she was definitely missing.

"So we'll just see what we shall see," he said to the dog as the clouds grew darker. He stopped for a traffic light and waited for a woman jogger pushing a baby carriage in front of her as she crossed in front of him. When the light changed, he beat out a minivan filled with teenagers. Once ahead of the van, he switched lanes, feeling a sense of urgency he couldn't quite shake.

Later today he planned to install yet another new lock on the door, one that Irene Calloway, her grandson, or anyone else they thought needed a key, wouldn't have. He also considered installing a camera for the front porch. Afterward he would double-check on the staff of All Saints, particularly Dr. Dominic Grotto. Jay had already retrieved some information, but it was spotty at best and he wanted to do a deeper background check on the instructors who had taught the missing students. Jay also was going to take the official tour of Wagner House while Kristi was working. Something had been going on there last night, long after the museum doors were supposed to have been locked, something that frightened the bejeezus out of Kristi, who didn't scare easily.

He turned a corner just as a beagle puppy dashed into the street. Jay jammed on his brakes. Bruno fell against the dash. "Christ!" A sedan coming the other way skidded to a stop.

A tall, thin man in his twenties, running with a leash wound in one hand, sprinted between the cars, yelling as he chased after the wayward dog.

"You okay, buddy?" Jay asked Bruno, his heart beating overtime.

Bruno climbed into the pa.s.senger seat again and barked at the disappearing pup while Jay drove the few blocks to the bungalow. At the house, Bruno pressed his nose closer to the gla.s.s and wagged his tail.

"You think this is home?" Jay asked, and parked in front of the dilapidated cottage with its sagging porch and overgrown yard. "Nah!"

But then what was? His sterile place in New Orleans?

That wasn't any better.

Truth to tell, since Katrina, Jay had been restless, feeling as if he didn't truly belong anywhere any longer. His renovated apartment had suddenly seemed small and confining, and when he'd stayed with Gayle in those months they'd dated, he'd felt as if he hadn't belonged at all, always concerned about wearing his shoes in the house or spilling coffee...no, her house had been too perfect, everything in its place except for Jay. He'd been the one thing Gayle had chosen that hadn't fit into her home or her life.

Then there was Kristi's studio, where he could pop a beer, eat cold pizza on a Sunday morning, or leave his jeans crumpled on the floor.

"So what?" he said aloud.

Kristi Bentz's apartment was no more the answer to his need for a permanent home than this cottage that belonged to his cousins.

Not liking the path his mind was determined to take, he climbed out of his truck. Bruno sprang to the ground, ready to lift his leg and mark every scraggly shrub and pine tree leading to the front door. Jay unloaded the truck bed, taking out the bags of cement, light fixtures, and cans of primer and paint. He hauled everything inside, then fed the dog, and headed to the shower.

His thoughts turned to Kristi and their night of lovemaking. After all of his warnings to himself, all the mental admonitions, he'd fallen into the same old trap and had ended up in her bed. Just where he'd really wanted to be. And d.a.m.n it, as a scientist he didn't believe in a lot of romantic nonsense. s.e.x, after all, was s.e.x. Some better than others. But he hadn't really bought into the emotional connection of it. At some level he'd even hoped that after tumbling into bed with Kristi and spending hours making love, he would somehow, miraculously, be cured of her.

Of course he'd been wrong.

Seriously wrong.

With Kristi, there was more to it than pure s.e.xual gratification. Always had been. In fact, if he were honest with himself, he'd admit his fascination with her was worse than ever. "Good goin', Romeo," he muttered, yanking off his clothes and stepping into the shower of the Day-Glo green bathroom. He couldn't help but wish she was with him, that he could wash her body with soap, feel his hands slide down her slick skin, kiss her b.r.e.a.s.t.s while water cascaded over them both, and lift her up, feel her legs wrap around him and...

Oh h.e.l.l. He was giving himself a hard-on just thinking about it. He scrubbed quickly, turned the spigots to cold and braced himself as his erection softened. Within minutes, he toweled off, then pulled on clean jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt from his duffel bag. Socks and shoes followed, and he grabbed his notebook computer and was out the door again, calling to Bruno, who was lying in the overgrown yard beneath a live oak, where a squirrel had taken up residence on a bough just out of reach.

"Give it up," Jay advised his dog as the squirrel, tail flickering, scolded noisily. "Let's go."

On cool days, he took the old hound with him everywhere. Bruno was content to wait in the car while Jay ran errands. As long as the temperature allowed, Jay figured it was better than having the dog cooped up in the semi-gutted bungalow for hours at a time.

He pulled out of the driveway and onto the street. Next stop: the hardware store followed by Wagner House, which would be open in the afternoon. He thought he might even stop by the diner for lunch, see Kristi in action.

She would hate it.

And he would love it.