Have You Seen Her? (16 page)

She pursed her lips, then said, “I’ve got a key.” And it was Steven’s turn to widen his eyes.

“You do? Jenna gave you one?”

Her expression fell. “No,” she admitted. “The tenant before traveled a lot and I watered his plants and fed his cat. The landlord never changes the locks between tenants.”

That had to be a violation of some kind, Steven thought and filed it away along with the intent to put a new lock on Jenna’s door as soon as possible. “I couldn’t use a key. Do you have any other suggestions?” He leaned closer. “She and I had a bit of a . . . spat. You know how it is.”

She nodded. “My Harvey and I would have our spats from time to time. God rest his soul.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am.”

Mrs. Kasselbaum shrugged matter-of-factly. “He was ninety-two. We had a May-December marriage, you see.” She batted her eyes and Steven bit back a grin. What a cutie-pie she was.

“Well, I really want to apologize to Jenna.” He sighed sadly. “She and I promised we’d never let the sun go down on our wrath.”

Mrs. Kasselbaum nodded at the biblical reference as Steven suspected she would. “Sensible. My Harvey and I had the same arrangement. Step aside, young man.” Steven did and Mrs. Kasselbaum fully emerged from her apartment to knock briskly on Jenna’s door. “Jenna Marshall, open this door this instant.” Silence met their ears and she sighed. “I don’t want to do this, but you leave me no choice. I’ll call the landlord and tell him about the other dog.”

The door snapped open and Steven had to grab Mrs. Kasselbaum to keep her from falling through. Jenna stood there, arms crossed over her breasts, a German shepherd flanking her on either side, her face full of righteous indignation. She was magnificent, he thought, his mouth watering at the sight of her. She glared down at the old lady. “You wouldn’t.”

Mrs. Kasselbaum looked up defiantly. “Will you let this boy apologize?”

Jenna looked at Steven who gave her his best innocent look. She snorted. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Come in and get it over with.” She bent down to stare Mrs. Kasselbaum square in the eye as Steven slipped in the door. “If Seth gets wind of this...”

Mrs. Kasselbaum straightened her body indignantly. “I’m not a gossip, young woman.”

“No, not you,” Jenna answered sarcastically. “So, when you do tell him, tell him I am not romantically involved, nor do I have any intention of romantic involvement.” She straightened and shut the door hard, but didn’t turn around to look at him. After an uncomfortable pause, her shoulders sagged and he clenched his fists at his sides to keep from turning her to face him. “Okay, Agent Thatcher,” she said softly and he winced at the hurt in her voice. “You’re sorry, you won’t ever do it again. You’ve apologized. Now you can go.”

He blew out a pent-up breath. “Jenna, please. I need to do something right today. My children aren’t speaking to me.”

She turned slowly and in her eyes he saw not anger, but grave disappointment. “As well they shouldn’t. And not because of me.”

Steven narrowed his eyes. That sounded like a rebuke. “Then why?”

“Steven, how many evenings have you been home this week?”

Now
he knew where this was going. “You must already know if you ask the question,” he answered tightly.

She just looked at him for a long moment, then limped to sit at her dining-room table where all her folders lay spread out. She patted the table. “Sit. Please.”

She’d said please. So he sat.

“This isn’t any of my business,” she began.

“No, it really isn’t.”

She smiled and only God knew why that put him at ease. But it did. “I’m going to tell you anyway. You owe me, since you were rude to me today.”

“You were rude to me on Friday,” he countered. “So we should be even.”

She raised a brow. “But you’ve already accepted my apology for that. Nice try, but no deal. While we were waiting for you to come home, I talked to your boys. Nicky told me you’re never home. Matt said you’d offered to take him to a movie festival this weekend, but you got busy and forgot. And tonight, you’re late again—and for a family dinner.”

She was right, he knew. Still it annoyed him to have her say it aloud. “And you are an expert on children, Dr. Marshall?”

“No,” she said softly. “But I am an expert on the fragility of time. It passes, Steven. You can’t stop it. You always think you’re going to have another day to make things right, to say the things you should have said, to do the things you should have done. But sometimes time and life don’t cooperate and another day never comes.” She blinked, her eyes dry even though his had filled. “You know this, Steven. You almost lost Nicky last year. So why do you hide from your children? They love you.”

Restless, Steven pushed to his feet and paced to the sliding-glass door that led to her balcony. She was right. He’d almost lost Nicky last year. So why did he work so much? Was he hiding from his children? He rubbed the stiff spot on the back of his neck. He’d deal with
that
after he dealt with
this
. “I came to apologize, Jenna. I’m sorry I became angry. I had a very bad day and thought my aunt had set me up on another one of her blind dates. I ...I thought you were party to it. I’m sorry. I hope you’ll forgive my rudeness as Brad so accurately labeled it.”

“Accepted.”

Steven wheeled around. “Accepted? Just like that?” Jenna lifted one corner of her mouth in a wry smile. “Why not? You accepted mine on Friday as I recall. And I said you were an idiot.”

“An incompetent idiot.”

Jenna rolled her eyes. “Thank you for refreshing my memory. We seem to have gotten off to awkward starts both times we’ve met, Agent Thatcher. Perhaps we could begin again.”

Steven rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight roll away. He approached, holding out his hand, feeling the grin split his face. “I’m Steven. I’m glad to meet you.”

She took his hand and looked up, shyly he thought. “I’m Jenna. Would you like a drink?”

He looked down into her eyes and felt his heart turn over in his chest. Her lips moved but it was a few seconds before the whispered word sank in.

“Steven?”

He realized he still held her hand and hastily let it go. “Um, yeah. A drink would be great.”

But she didn’t get up. She just sat there staring up at him with those wide violet eyes and full red lips and the fantasy flashed right back. Her naked body in his bed, her black hair spread on his pillow, her violet eyes dazed with passion, her full lips moaning his name.

Her eyes dropped and when she lifted her eyes again he saw not compassion or ire or reproach, but heat. Want. Raw lust. Shuddering, Steven clenched his fists to keep from reaching out and cradling her face in his hands and finding out how soft her lips really were. “What’s happening here?” she whispered.

I want you.
Steven forced himself not to look lower than her face. Forced himself not to look down to her round breasts gently molded by the soft black sweater or to the tight jeans that showed off every curve.
God, I really want you.
He cleared his throat and lied. “I don’t know.”

She wet her lips and Steven’s forehead broke out in a cold sweat. He needed to leave. Fast. Before he did something he was sure to regret. “I need to go.” His voice was thick and hoarse. “I’ll . . . I’ll call you.”

She nodded. “Okay,” she murmured.

He made it to her front door when he stopped, his hand on the doorknob. He tried to ignore the throbbing of his body. It was no use. It was all he could do to stay where he stood and not go back and grind his mouth against hers until he found some relief from whatever madness wouldn’t let him go. “Your neighbors have keys to your apartment,” he rasped out, feeling the words drag against his dry throat. “You should change your deadbolt. As soon as possible.”

“Okay,” she murmured.

Steven chanced a look back and immediately wished that he had not. She sat where he had left her, looking straight ahead at the wall, her expression stricken. Guilty. A thread of her conversation with her neighbor popped into the forefront of his mind, pricking at his tenuous composure. “Who is Seth, Jenna?” he asked.

She didn’t move a muscle. “My fiancé’s father.”

Fiancé.
Steven physically staggered backward against her front door. “You’re
engaged
?”

Her head turned and he could see her face had grown pale. “My late fiancé. Adam died two years ago.” Her lips twisted bitterly. “Two years ago next Saturday.”

Now he understood her comment on the fragility of life. “I’m sorry, Jenna.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Steven shook himself into motion. “I’ll replace your lock.” “Okay,” she murmured.

“Matt has a soccer game tomorrow. It’ll be Tuesday before I can come back.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Dinner?” The invitation was out of his mouth before he realized. But it was too late to back out now. Father Mike would be only too pleased.

For a moment he thought she’d say no. Half of him wished she would. The other half wanted her to say yes with a yearning that threatened to rip him in two. Then she nodded and his heart started beating again. “Okay.”

Sunday, October 2, 10:00
P.M.

Casey found her in the same position an hour later.

“What are you doing here?” Casey thundered, letting herself in with her key. “I thought you were dead on the highway. In my truck! Why didn’t you call me if you weren’t coming?”

Jenna blinked. Casey stood in her living room, fists on her hips. “What are you talking about, Casey?”

“Dinner? New Italian place on Capitol? Cute friend of Ned’s?” Casey crossed the room and tapped Jenna’s head. “Ring any bells in there?”

Jenna sighed. “I’m sorry. I forgot.” She pushed away from the table and rolled her shoulders. “Damn, I’m stiff. Serves me right for sitting here feeling sorry for myself. I’m starving. Do you want something to eat?”

Casey followed her into the kitchen. “Were you not listening to anything I said? I ate. New Italian place on Capitol.” She poked Jenna’s arm. “Without you.”

Jenna opened the freezer door and frowned. “You didn’t bring the Rocky Road last night like you promised. Now I’m out.”

“I forgot.” Casey peered under Jenna’s arm. “Hey, there’s some vanilla back there.”

Jenna just looked at her. Vanilla wasn’t even worth the trouble. She wasn’t even sure how it got in her freezer.

Casey looked worried. “What’s wrong, Jen? And why were you feeling sorry for yourself?”

Jenna stared into the freezer. She closed her eyes, feeling the cold air bathe her hot face. “Casey, have you ever cheated on Ned?”

Casey choked. “
What?
Where the hell did that come from?”

Jenna closed the freezer door. “Well?” she asked, urgency making her voice shake. She looked over her shoulder to Casey’s guilty face.

“No.” Casey stepped back and shifted her weight to one foot. Her eye twitched. “Not exactly.”

“Not
exactly
?” Jenna asked, knowing she sounded hysterical and not able to help herself. “What
exactly
is
not exactly
? You either cheat or you don’t. It’s like being
not exactly
pregnant.” She pulled herself to an abrupt stop. Casey’s mouth hung open in shock. Jenna blew out a controlled breath and hit her forehead against the freezer door. “I am so totally insane.”

“Jen?” Casey asked in a tiny voice. “Do you have something you want to get off your chest?”

“I am insane.”

“You said that already.” She squeezed Jenna’s arm. “You can’t seriously expect me to believe you cheated on Adam. You barely left his side the whole year after he was diagnosed.”

“Not then. Now. Tonight.”

Casey tilted her head, puzzled and tentative. “Tonight?” Jenna spun and flopped back against the refrigerator. “He was here.”

Casey frowned. “What are you talking about? Who was here?”

“Steven Thatcher,” Jenna snapped.

Casey’s brows shot up. “Oh.” Her eyes darted back toward Jenna’s bedroom. “You aren’t trying to tell me that you . . . and he...? Jenna!”

Jenna limped back to the table. “For God’s sake, Casey, of course not.”

“Then I am confused. How did you cheat? Specifically now, Jenna. I need details.”

“Steven was here. Long story.” She massaged her temples. “He held my hand.”

Casey was staring at her as if she were a french fry short of a happy meal. “And?”

Jenna closed her eyes, remembering the heat all over again. The almost-painful tingle that started at her fingertips and shot straight down to her core. “He looked at me.” And she’d felt helpless to look away. She didn’t want to look away. He’d wanted her. And God help her, she’d wanted him. She would have willingly kissed a man she’d barely met. And then what?

Jenna looked over to find Casey staring, her blue eyes rife with concern. Jenna looked away. “I held his hand and he looked at me and I think I would have done anything he asked. Anything.”

Casey gently grabbed Jenna’s chin and brought her face around. “And?”

“I wanted to . . . you know . . . just holding his hand, Case.” Jenna looked into her best friend’s eyes and made herself say the awful truth. “And I never felt that way with Adam. Never,” she whispered.