Bought His Life (10 page)

Maybe she had a good reason for putting an end to her husband.

“What did he do?” Lawson asked, closing his eyes and bracing for the answer.

“He was a DEA agent on the Mobile Enforcement Team. He was shot during a drug raid eight years ago,” she whispered.

Her husband had been in law enforcement of some sort, working against illegal narcotics. “I don’t understand. You said it was your fault?”

“It was,” she insisted, curling her body into a tight ball in Lawson’s embrace. “He was too worried about me to watch his own back. If he hadn’t been thinking of me, he would have been ready for the asshole who shot him.”

Ah. This he understood. She was the widow left behind, trying to pick up the pieces of her life and wondering if she could have prevented her husband’s death.

Feeling the sobs rumbling deep inside her, he held Kimber away from him so he could look her in the eyes. He cupped her face and wiped away the tears from beneath her eyes with his thumbs.

“Sweetheart, your husband knew the risks of his job when he took on such an honorable profession. His death had nothing to do with you. He wouldn’t want you to grieve this way. I’m sure he loved you and would want you to be happy.”

“He told me that as long as I did the same job, he’d never be able to focus on his own safety. He’d be worried, and it would affect his performance. He warned me.”

“Of course he worried about you. You were his wife.”

She shook her head. “But he was fine until I started my job.”

“What?” He recalled the gun and mentally slapped himself for his gullibility and for refusing to accept that she didn’t have a simple and safe job. “What do you really do?” he asked cautiously, almost afraid of the answer she’d give.

“I’m DEA.” She peeled off his chest, and her vulnerability was visible. “It’s my fault. I never should have taken the job.”

Her confession left him speechless. What could he say to that? He’d never get used to a world that allowed its females to purposely endanger themselves with jobs that should be performed by men.

As the pieces of the day fell together, he ached to ask her about the two mobsters in the Hummer, but he opted for words of comfort instead.

“It’s not your fault, and deep down, I think you know that. Bad things happen to good people. And in his line of work, in your work, you understand this is true. You’re mourning your loss now because I imagine you’ve never taken the time to do so before. But from what I gather, it’s been years. You have to go on.”

“I can’t.”

“You can, and you will. Like I said, your husband wouldn’t want you hurt and wounded. He’d want you to get on with your life and to be happy. Think about it.”

“I have to tell you this, but it’s hard. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s so fucked up, but I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since this morning. I don’t understand how you can make me feel so much in such a short amount of time. I like you, and I hate you. You annoy the shit out of me, but I want to be with you anyway. You kidnap me at gunpoint, but it makes me feel safe. I trust you when I shouldn’t, and I defer to you when I should fight you.”

Lawson cupped her face and kissed her forehead. His tough little Kimber needed him.

She seemed to stare at the buttons on his shirt. “I want you to make love to me as much as I want to kick your ass for making me cry. What is this between us?”

He caressed her wet cheek, traced the soft line of her jaw and lifted her trembling chin until he looked into her beautiful eyes. He wanted to taste her, take her, and more than anything, he wanted to take the pain away and make her feel nothing but pleasure.

Kimber stroked his face with soft, questioning fingers, and he refused to allow her any hesitation. He turned into her touch and kissed her fingertips, taking each one between his lips and licking them slow and tender.

The tension between them sizzled, and anticipation burned in the air. She threw gasoline on the fire by leaning forward and replacing her fingers with her mouth. Her kiss fueled him with a hunger-filled ferocity that struck him like a bomb.

Rising off the bed, he held her softness tight against his body. She wrapped her legs around his waist and hung onto his neck, her lips never once leaving his. He turned and laid her down, covered her body and pressed his painful erection against her so she had no question about how he felt.

She moaned beneath his lips and lifted her hips, matching his arousal.

Lawson broke the kiss and gazed down at her, taking in her passion-laden eyes, and her chest heaving beneath him. He didn’t know why she affected him so strongly, but he knew the need to be with her was undeniable.

“What’s wrong?” she panted.

“Nothing is wrong.” He wanted her to know that this was more than just sex. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to take care of her and protect her from all the pain in the world for all time. “I’ve wanted to hold you like this from the moment I saw you. I just want to make it right.”

He never thought he could feel such a powerful attraction with anyone. The idea wrapped around his heart and stole his breath away. He was going to have her. He was going to make her his and keep her at his side.

He showered her face and neck with kisses, covering every bit of skin before he moved to her collarbone and pressed his palm between her breasts. Gasping, she dug her fingers into his shoulders and gathered up the material of his shirt. He allowed enough space between them for her to pull it and his undershirt off, then rose on his hands to look at the woman beneath him.

“You are so beautiful.” He drew her up off the mattress and removed the little pink top that had been driving him crazy all day. “Gorgeous temptation.”

With the shirt gone, the smoothness of her skin pleased his sight and flushed at his touch. She wrapped her arms around his neck, licking and nibbling at his shoulder as she arched into him. His hands caressed her back and unclasped her bra. He pulled it from between them and tossed it aside, then captured her breasts and lifted, massaging them as he tongued their taut peaks and sucked each one in turn.

Kimber let her head fall back, her breasts high for him, and closed her eyes as he suckled one nipple then the other. Her moans vibrated through his inner core and set his arousal on overdrive. “Open your eyes, baby. I want to see your pleasure. I want to see you.”

Her hips bucked, and her warmth stroked over his hardness.

“You’re still dressed,” she breathed, her hands desperately pulling on his belt.

He chuckled and quickly unbuckled his trousers.

With a twinkle in her eyes, she pressed her hands down his pants and cupped his heavy balls. “You feel so good.”

“You feel better,” he groaned, covering her hand as she freed him and wrapped her fingers around his arousal.

Laying her flat on the mattress, he teased a taut nipple with his fingers while drawing the other into his mouth. He slowly explored her with his lips, inching farther down while he discarded the remainder of his clothing and felt her against his skin.

When he got to her panties, he caressed the damp material clinging to her warm center and placed his mouth over the lace. “Your scent is intoxicating.”

Lifting her legs together, he slid off the delicate lace, parted her thighs and lowered his head between them. His tongue tasted the softness of her skin, while his finger slid up and down her swollen core, spreading her excitement and fighting with the urge to thrust inside her and lose himself completely. His thumb circled her bud, and she cried out, arching her body as she drenched his hand with her wetness.

“Please, please, now,” she rasped.

He made his way back up her body, licking and caressing as he went. When he pressed his erection against the entrance of her core, she spread her legs wider, and his dick accepted the invitation. He captured her wrists in one hand and held them above her head. He kissed her then, ravaging her mouth as he pushed into her, savoring the warm sheath that wrapped around him.

She was so wet, so tight, so heavenly. Above all, she was his.

Chapter Eleven

Thanking Rick for his help, Jack decided the kid wasn’t so bad after all. They’d worked together the whole afternoon, and the cook knew his stuff. In fact, once he saw that things were humming, he was quite pleasant. They’d even managed a few conversations Jack found very interesting and informative.

“Bye, Em,” Rick said to a closed door, turning to leave for the night. Sauntering toward the back exit, he looked at Jack. “Hey, man, you picked up fast. Be sure to lock up here before you go.”

“I will. And thanks again.”

Looking around the kitchen, Jack wondered what to do. He wasn’t ready to go, and he sure wasn’t going to leave Emily alone, but there was nothing left to clean or put away.

Shrugging, he decided to make use of the time. He gazed at the icebox with the bad hinges and found his first project. He might be a sucker for Emily’s pretty face, but he could always pretend he was doing the job out of the goodness of his heart. He waited for her to come out and talk.

Wrapping a rubber band around the cash and batching out the credit card statement, Emily smiled at the day’s sales. Even shorthanded, this had been the busiest day in months. A few more nights like tonight and she’d definitely be able to give
Emy’s Place
its much-needed renovation by next season.

She placed the deposit in the safe and turned off the computer. Pulling the tie from her hair, she bent over and tossed her head as she reached for the doorknob. Righting herself as she walked out, her breath caught when she saw Jack’s muscular shoulders rising from behind the stainless steel prep table.

“I didn’t know anyone was still here,” she said. “Do you need to speak to me?”

Jack just looked at her and took what seemed like ages to answer. Finally, he grinned. “Do I have the job?”

Choking down a chuckle, Emily smiled. “Of course you do. You were a great help today, and you found your way quick. Didn’t Ricky tell you to be here at eight tomorrow?”

“Ricky?” he asked as if there was a bad taste in his mouth.

“Yeah, you know. Rick, the cook.” She raised an eyebrow in question and wondered if he was all looks and no brains.

“Sure. I just can’t picture him as a Ricky.” He nodded and took two steps toward her. “Anyway, let’s discuss business before your escort arrives to see you home.”

This time she couldn’t stifle the laugh. “Escort to see me home? Oh, honey, things don’t happen like that in Marathon. First, there is no
escort.
Second, I find my own way home.”

Jack’s puzzled face had a hint of something Emily couldn’t place. She tried, but didn’t recognize it.

God, what a good-looking face it is. Stop staring!
She smiled, picturing Jack teaching Beaver how to change a flat tire on his bike.

“You’re too … um…proper. Yeah, that’s right. Proper and kind of formal to be down in the Keys. Your parents must’ve been sticklers for good manners.”

“I don’t think my parents are the only influence. It just seems that some things are right and others are wrong— or just plain rude. I’d never let my lady walk home alone in the dark.”

“No. I guess you wouldn’t. But not every man thinks like you.”
Too bad. It’s actually nice
. “Time to get going,” she said, jingling her keys and walking across the dining room to the front exit. “Everything locked up in the back?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He fell in step beside her and took the keys from her hand as they reached the door, then pushed it open and motioned for her to go first.

He locked the door and dropped the keys into her palm. He took hold of her extended fingers and looked straight into her eyes. “We’ll talk while I see you home, Emily.” She was about to protest when he shook his head. “It’s really too dark for you to walk alone. Does your husband work nights? Can’t he meet you?”

Wow! First, he’d fixed the shoddy fridge hinges without her asking, then the door thing, and now he was concerned for her safety because it was dark. She’d thought chivalry had disappeared years ago, but apparently, Jack hadn’t gotten the memo. Not only was he good on the eyes, he had manners, too. What planet did he come from?

After being on her own for over a decade, Emily wasn’t accustomed to being catered to or looked after like those women in the black and white TV shows she’d watched after school. She wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Your husband won’t be angry, will he?”

“No.” This time, she laughed at the thought. “It’s nothing like that.” It was weird answering to a stranger, but she guessed he was being polite again. “I’m not married. I just don’t want to impose or take you out of your way.”

“No imposition. It’ll be my pleasure.” His voice sounded lighter, possibly relieved, and she turned to look at him. He flashed a large smile and placed his hand in the small of her back. “Which way, beautiful?”

She pointed to the right.

Beautiful? How’d they get from
ma’am to beautiful
so fast? Maybe he wasn’t a gentleman? Just an arrogant control freak that wanted to feel important. Jamming her hands into her pants pockets, she raised her shoulders, answering her own questions.

Who cares? Let him walk you home. It wouldn’t hurt not to look behind the hibiscuses for someone hiding in them tonight.

“Down that street, and make a right. And thanks.”

“It’s the least I could do. You gave me a job, on a temporary basis, and I appreciate it.”

“I appreciate honesty. You didn’t try to snow me like every other busboy, and say this was the career of your lifetime and
Emy’s Plac
e was where you wanted your ashes to be strewn.”

Jack’s rich laughter tickled her insides. “Sorry, not my life’s ambition. But honest work is nothing to spit at, and I do what’s needed to get the mission accomplished.”

“Well, I was kind of stuck, too. You came in at the perfect time.” She walked a little closer beside him as they turned down the dark, palm-lined road, amazed at how comfortable it felt to be with him, as if she’d known him for years. “So, why can you work for only two weeks?”