Icing on the Cake (Close to Home) (16 page)

He didn’t.

It was for the best, long-term. But it still sucked mightily in the present.

*

“Looking good, Lawler,” Constable Williams said as he joined Curtis on the main floor of Sara’s building. “Never seen you in anything other than uniforms and t-shirts. Who’s the special lady,” his gaze darted around the lobby, “and what the hell is she doing in this piece of crap?”

Curtis grunted. “Sara Robinson, nobody you’d know. And I wish I had the answer to your second question.”

Williams laughed, the relaxed laugh of a man settled in his life. Married, with a couple of teenage boys at home, Joe Williams took his job seriously enough to do it well, but didn’t let the shitty parts drag him down. Good thing, because when they went to the fourth floor and knocked on Sara’s door, Curtis expected plenty of shit to fly.

Williams faced him as the elevator doors boxed them inside the grubby lift. “Fill me in. The faster I’m in and out, the sooner you can get back to your evening.”

Yeah, that wouldn’t be happening. Not after the bullshit Sara had pulled ten minutes ago.

“On our way out for dinner earlier, a group of young men loitering out front implied that my date is a prostitute.”

His fellow officer whistled. “Ballsy.”

“No shit. I had a chat with them, set them straight. Advised them to steer clear of Sara.”

“I’ll just bet you did. One of those times when you wished you were free to slug somebody, eh?”

“Oh yeah.” The elevator chimed for the fourth floor and they stepped into the hallway. Curtis nodded to the left, indicating the way. “We stopped here after the restaurant so Sara could close a window, and found that somebody had paid her a visit while we were out. Guess the neighborhood goons didn’t appreciate my warning.”

They arrived at Sara’s door. Curtis waited, watching the older officer assess the situation.

Tomorrow’s my LUCKY day. Wear that black dress for ME, whore.

The hairs on Curtis’ neck stood as he read the spray-painted message again. Nothing explicit or extreme, but not random either. The words had meaning. Sara had acted as if this were no big deal. Just commonplace graffiti. But Curtis had seen the initial horror cross her features. He’d watched her hands shake so hard she couldn’t open her damn door.

“I’d call this a threat against your lady friend,” Williams said.

“Agreed.”

“And you assume the men you spoke to earlier are responsible.”

“That would make the most sense.”

Williams nodded. “Does your friend know these guys?”

“No.” For the sake of the investigation, Curtis kept his answer definitive. No point in sharing his doubts. That was a personal matter.

“Any idea if they live in the building, or how they might know which unit she lives in?”

Curtis crossed his arms over his chest. “The building is wide open. No security of any kind as far as I’ve seen. You’ll have to ask Sara those questions. I tried, but she was upset at the time.”
Upset
—a polite description of having flipped the fuck out and pushed him as far away as possible. He didn’t know why, but he sure as hell intended to find out.

“Understandable. Let’s see how she’s doing now.” Williams raised his hand and rapped on the door. “This is Constable Williams, Ms. Robinson. I have a couple quick questions for you.”

Unsurprisingly, the knock went unanswered. So did a second round, and a much more assertive third round.

Williams turned to him. “How do you want to handle this?”

“The hard way, apparently.” Curtis stepped forward and laid a fist to the door. “Sara. Open up. Just answer a couple questions for my friend Joe out here.” He waited. Still nothing. “Babe, I’m not leaving unless you do this. I’ve got vacation days banked, and I’m prepared to cash them all in. I’ll stand guard outside this goddamn door as long as it takes, then follow you wherever you go when you do come out. Consider that my very personal promise to you.”

Metal scraped and clunked. Sara yanked the door open, blocking the entrance and staring up at him with fury-filled eyes. Fucking beautiful. And hot, even though he doubted either of those things were her intention at the moment.

“Seriously. Dick much, lawman?”

Behind him, Williams coughed to cover a chuckle.

Curtis braced his hands on either side of the doorframe, mirroring her stance. “As much as necessary.”

“Should I give you two a few minutes?” The words had no sooner left Williams’ mouth than both Curtis and Sara answered.

Simultaneously.
“No.”

“Good to see we agree on something,” Curtis said.

She glanced over his shoulder at the uniformed officer, her pretty face in full-blown scowl mode when her eyes met his again. “Why are you doing this?” The question came out as a hissed whisper.

“To make your life miserable.”

“Congratulations, it’s working.”

He tamped down the urge to grab her and yank her hard and tight to his body. To quiet her saucy mouth by inserting his tongue between her full, ruby lips. She’d respond to that, he knew she would. By fighting him off—briefly—before succumbing and becoming a willing participant. They hadn’t known each other long, but they had that dance perfected.

Instead, he took a breath and forged on in a way that wouldn’t get X-rated within seconds. “You don’t want to see me again on a personal level, that’s your choice. But it won’t stop me from looking out for you. Tonight or in the future. Like it or not, I’m going to protect you, every way within my means.”

She stepped into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her. No comment, she just waved her hands at him, as if to get on with it.

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he let it take hold. “Sorry,” he said when she all but growled at him. “Your dad does the same thing with his hands, that’s all.”

She still didn’t say anything, but her expression softened.

“You want me to hang around while you talk to Joe, or leave so you have privacy?” Yeah, he was pushing her with that question. Fuck it.

A battle waged across her features. The same struggle he’d seen there multiple times before. The woman must have some serious shit going on inside, to be constantly at war with herself over every personal decision.

He didn’t need to be involved in that fight. Did. Not. Need some chick’s emotional turmoil taking over his life.

“Hang around.”

“Done.” Win or lose, he was officially all in. He stepped aside, leaned on the dull, gray wall. “I’ll be right over here.” He didn’t add
if you need me
. Sara didn’t want to need him, and for now, he accepted that.

He kept his mouth shut and ears open while Williams talked with Sara. Of all the officers who could’ve responded to the call, Curtis couldn’t have handpicked somebody better. Joe’s nonthreatening demeanor and fatherly vibe seemed to put Sara at ease. Curtis wouldn’t describe her as receptive, but she didn’t bite the man’s head off either.

Mostly, she gave concise answers. She had lived here four months. Didn’t have any friends or acquaintances in the immediate area. Didn’t know her neighbors in the building. Yes, she had seen those guys around the building prior to this evening. No, she didn’t know any of them beyond facial recognition.

“Do you entertain a lot of male visitors, Ms. Robinson?”

Curtis’ ears pricked up at Joe’s question.

Across the corridor, Sara’s eyes narrowed. “How many men cross my threshold is nobody’s business.” Her gaze shifted from Joe’s face to Curtis’. “But for the sake of being
cooperative
, I’ll tell you. The only man to set foot in my apartment was my brother-in-law, on moving day.”

A victory bell rang in Curtis’ head. Totally unjustified. Just because she hadn’t brought dates to her apartment didn’t mean she hadn’t been with anybody for four months. Besides that, he shouldn’t care. About her past, present, or future sexual encounters.

Williams nodded, sending out his next question while jotting notes on a pad. “Any idea why those men would’ve implied you’re a prostitute in front of Curtis, and, assuming this writing on your door is the same group, why they’d call you a whore?”

Oh, shit. Curtis gritted his teeth and braced for impact.

“I can’t say why, no.” Unlike earlier, when she’d gone ballistic on him for a far less pointed question, she maintained a calm, neutral tone.

The lack of patented Sara snark pinged on his radar. So did what appeared to be a carefully worded answer.

Williams wrapped up the interview with a few more standard-type questions. Then he excused himself and headed down the hallway to knock on the nearest door.

“He’s wasting his time. Nobody will have seen anything,” Sara said as the unanswered knocking echoed in the corridor. “You do realize that, right?”

From his position across the hall, Curtis shrugged. “Maybe so. Or maybe this’ll be his lucky day.”

She stiffened, not missing
his
carefully worded answer.

He pushed off the wall and closed the gap between them to a matter of inches. “Anything damaged from the rain before you got your window closed?”

“Nothing important.”

“Good. Grab whatever you need and let’s get the hell out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“All right, here’ll do. Open up, I’ve had enough of this damn hallway.”

Though she still wore the black dress, she’d removed her heels, making it necessary for her to tip her chin up to achieve the death stare she shot him. “You’re not coming in. I didn’t tell you to hang around so we could pick up where we left off.”

“Yeah, I figured that out, despite being a stupid cop.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid. That’s what I wanted to say to you before you take off.”

“Not the best apology I’ve ever heard, but I accept.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, the action squeezing her fantastic tits higher. “If I was sorry, I’d say so. Directly. I’m not talking about your career, I’m talking about you. You’re a smart guy. So when I tell you we’re done hooking up, I know you have the capacity to understand that’s final.”

“There’s just one problem with that.” Half a step and he had her pinned to the wall, her hot body lighting up every nerve ending between his nose and his toes. “This is more than just hooking up.”

Her hands slid up his chest. Palms flat on his pecs, she met his gaze. “Not to me.”

“I thought you didn’t lie.”

“And I thought you didn’t want a permanent relationship.”

Apparently they both had damn good memories. He circled her left wrist and swept his fingertips over the top of her hand, tapping her bare fourth finger. “I didn’t ask you to marry me, troublemaker. And I’m not going to. But I’d like to see more of you until we hit that point where we can’t be bothered anymore.”

“You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I bet.”

Oh man. Sara would get a huge kick if she knew how many women had cursed him out for his unromantic or noncommittal ways. Maybe he’d tell her some of his crazy breakup stories sometime. Just for the sound of her laughter and smart-mouthed remarks. However, that time would have to wait.

First priority was ensuring nobody had an opportunity to make any up-close threats against this woman who drove him crazy in every way possible. “You can’t stay here alone until Williams has had a chance to chat with the piece of shit who spray-painted your door.”

“That could be never.”

“Then I guess you’d better start apartment hunting tomorrow.”

She wiggled free of her caged position. “If it were that simple, I’d have found something else already. There aren’t a lot of options in the cheaper-than-dirt category.”

“Here’s an idea—put the money you spend on your car toward rent.”

“No.” Her lips thinned to a straight line. Her eyes lost their passion and the color drained from her face. Boom, just like that, her walls were up. She pushed her door open and stepped inside, reeling on him when he didn’t hesitate to follow. “I didn’t invite you in.”

“Good thing I’m not a vampire.”

“Stop grinning. It wasn’t that witty.” She rolled her eyes when he shrugged and closed the door behind him.

Took him all of ten seconds to do a visual sweep of her bachelor apartment. Bathroom to the immediate right. A kitchenette with harvest-yellow appliances that probably dated back to opening day for the building beyond that. In the living area on the left side she had a futon, an old steamer trunk and a floor lamp. A rolling rack full of clothes stood in one corner, bordered by a row of footwear and a couple of plastic storage totes. Talk about minimalist living.

He glanced over his shoulder at the lock on the door. The metal was so old, it was practically black. Like the appliances, it was probably original to the unit. Who knew how many people had lived here over the years, and how many keys fitting that lock were floating around out there.

“See?” she asked when his gaze returned to her face. “Deadbolt. Perfectly safe. I’m fine here.
Alone.
”

“Yeah, that’s not happening. Crash at a friend’s place. Or go to Conn and Nia’s. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind having you in residence for a while.”

“Only one person in my friends column, and that’s Nia. As for interrupting the newlywed sex-a-thon? No way, dude.”

Dude.
He had pretty decent powers of observation, and one of the things he’d noted since the first day he met Sara was her use of that word. He’d heard her address Nia that way. Not her parents, Conn, Lindsay, or anybody else throughout the wedding weekend, though. Kind of a weird word to show fondness, but clearly that was its purpose. And a handful of times, including now, she’d used it toward him.

Things were about to get a lot more interesting. “If you won’t go anywhere else, then I guess you’ll stay with me.”

“What?” Her perfectly suckable bottom lip dropped nearly to her knees. “No. Make that a hell no.”

“You’re cute when you lose your shit.”

“Oh my god, you are such a—”

“Prince?” He winked. “Don’t freak out, we’re talking short-term stay only. While we deal with your neighborhood graffiti artists, get your lock changed, or ideally, find you a new apartment.” He did another sweep of her current digs, focusing on the double-size-at-most futon. “Or I can stay here with you. For as long as it takes.”