Incandescent (7 page)

Aaron looked into guarded eyes and watched
her jaw clench.

“No, this isn’t an interview,” he said. “I’m
trying a new tactic. It’s called, ‘being nice.’”

She caught her breath as he grinned, his
teeth flashing brilliant white against dark skin. “Do you think you
might call me Anna, now that we’re better acquainted?” she
asked.

“I might.”

“Good. So, tell me about you. About your
work. About your childhood.”

“I’m not interesting,” he said, intense green
eyes raking her. “Where did you go to college?”

“Uh huh, quit changing the subject. It’s your
turn. What’s your heritage?”

“Lebanese,” he said. “Third generation. My
family immigrated through Ellis Island in the early 1900s.”

“Lebanese?”

“Mostly. My mother is American.”

“How long have you been a fireman?”

“Fire fighter,” he corrected her. “A long
time. Seriously, I’m boring. What did you say your dog’s name
was?”

“Aaron,” Anna pleaded, placing a hand over
his.

Hungry to touch her, he took her hand into
his and stroked her palm and wrist. His warm touch ignited a blaze
in her stomach. “Your dog’s name is Aaron, too?”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “It’s my
father’s dog and his name is Fred. Any more questions?”

“Would you like dessert?”

“Thank you, no.”

She looked down at her hand still clasped in
his.

“My God, you’re breathtaking,” he
whispered.

“I was thinking the same thing about
you.”

“Let’s get out of here,” he said. He flung
several twenties onto the table and stood, pulling her out of the
booth. He strode towards the exit, his hand burning Anna’s back.
“Keep the change,” he muttered to the waitress.

Outside in the twilight, he pulled Anna
towards the truck at the back of the parking lot. She stood silent
against the cool metal as he unlocked the passenger’s door and
opened it. He turned sideways, holding out a hand.

Instead of getting into the truck, Anna
curled into the crook of his arm. She felt his hot breath on her
cheek and turned towards his mouth. She sank her fingers into his
hair, grabbed a handful and pulled his head down, her mouth fusing
to his.

Aaron would have fallen over if the truck
door hadn’t been open and supporting him. His hands slid around her
waist, pulling her closer, his head exploding as her tongue danced
with his, her teeth nipping his bottom lip. He hissed as her mouth
seared his cheek, moving to his ear.

“You asked for this,” she whispered. “You’ve
been coming on to me all evening.”

“I, ah, have no excuse.”

“Neither do I,” she said, laying her head on
his shoulder. “I’m not sure what’s come over me. I guess I’ve been
a little lonely.”

Aaron grasped her wrists, pulling them from
around his neck. He cradled her fingertips, not wanting to lose
physical contact.

“It’s a good thing you’re not a suspect,” he
said. “I’d have to remove myself from this investigation.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll behave.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” he said,
“and it’s too late to start behaving.”

He hoisted Anna inside the truck, jumped in
after her and slammed the door behind him. His mouth captured hers
as he pressed her onto the bench seat, pulling her shirt from the
waistband of her jeans. Fevered hands stroked her ribs, cupped her
breasts. She moaned into his mouth as he rubbed his thumbs against
her bra. Anna tugged at his shirt, frantic to touch his hot
skin.

He continued to caress her with one deft
hand, while the other unbuttoned her shirt.

“Yes, touch me,” she whispered.

His tongue sizzled as it slid along the edge
of the lacy fabric of her bra and Anna moaned, arching her back. He
tugged at the straps, his touch burning a river. She whimpered when
he sucked a rosy nipple and bucked under him, tormented by the ache
he created.

Aaron raised his head, adoring her flushed
and frantic face. Relishing her kiss, he captured her mouth
again.

Anna slid cool hands down his back and
beneath the waistband of his jeans, pressing him closer. Her hips
wiggled against his erection. He groaned at her touch. She squeezed
and stroked, encouraged by his response.

Aaron fought for control, his forehead
pressed against hers as he gritted his teeth. “Stop, stop. Don’t do
that.”

Embarrassed, Anna flinched, dropping her
hands to her side. She turned her head, focusing on the gas pedal.
She took a risk, following her instincts, but she’d gone too far.
He didn’t want her.

He shifted his weight, swinging into a
sitting position. He sat silent, staring out the side window while
Anna pushed her bra straps back on her shoulders.

Scooting against the far side of the truck,
she straightened her shirt and buttoned it. She combed her fingers
through her hair and licked swollen, dry lips. She stared straight
ahead and waited for Aaron to make the next move.

“Well, unless you’re going to drive, I guess
I need to move over,” he said, his voice strained and husky.

Mortified, she struggled for composure as she
scrambled into the passenger seat and searched for her shoe. Her
hands shook as she buckled the seat belt.

Aaron studied her profile. Her chin was high,
a sure sign she was embarrassed and insulted. She thought he
rejected her. “Anna, I don’t want to treat you with disrespect. If
I had made love to you tonight ...” he said, his breathing still
ragged.

Anna lifted a hand, a barrier between them.
“But, you didn’t,” she interrupted.

Aaron started the truck and drove out of the
parking lot, heading down Main Street towards Gretchen’s house on
First Avenue. He stopped the truck, letting it idle in park.

She opened the door and flung herself out.
Aaron tried to follow, but it was too late. Anna raced up the porch
steps and slipped the key in the lock. Within moments she was
inside, the door slammed behind her, the light turned off.

Aaron climbed back into his truck and roared
off into the night, putting First Avenue and Anna Johnson far
behind.

Chapter Twelve

After her first successful night as a college
instructor, Anna decided to treat herself to a hot chocolate. She’d
been too nervous to eat before class and now her stomach rumbled.
She slipped her Honda into a parking spot near Beano’s and floated
into the shop.

“Hi,” she said, smiling at the young woman
behind the counter. “I’d like a white chocolate mocha, please. And
a plain bagel. Could you toast that lightly? With cream cheese on
the side. Thank you.”

She knew she was babbling. She couldn’t help
herself. She sat at a table, picked up a battered magazine and
flipped through the pages while the clerk fixed her order. The bell
over the door rang, grabbing her attention. She watched the tall
man enter the shop.

Officer Rand Murphy approached the counter
and placed his order, a decaf mocha with extra cream. Nonchalant,
he leaned against the counter as he waited. Seconds passed before
he turned and caught her eye.

“Well, hello, Anna. May I sit with you? Looks
like it’s going to be a few minutes,” he said, inclining his head
towards the clerk.

Anna put the magazine down and studied Rand’s
guileless expression. His elegant brows arched over wide,
expressive blue eyes. His nose was straight, his chin dimpled, like
her own.

“Sure,” Anna said, sliding a chair away from
the table with her foot. “It’s my fault. I ordered a fussy drink.
Plus, she’s working alone.”

Rand noticed the young woman behind the
counter, a hint of concern marring his expression. He scanned the
coffee shop, assessing the other patrons.

“Looking for bad guys?” Anna asked. “Relax.
The owner is in the back. What I meant is, she’s working the
counter alone.”

Rand shrugged. “Comes with the territory. So,
what have you been up to? I mean, since the last time we spoke.” He
grimaced, recalling the last time they’d been together was at the
burned ruins of Lacey’s house.

After a moment’s hesitation, Anna told him
about her new position as a college instructor and the challenge of
getting all of the students to open the proper software at the same
time.

“Sounds like an interesting job. Are you
teaching full time?”

“Oh no. I only have a master’s degree, you
see. Colleges and universities require a Ph.D. before they hire
professors.”

“Only a master’s degree,” Rand mocked. He
lightly touched her hand. “Stay here. Our drinks are ready.”

He’s still a doll, she thought as he lifted
the tray and headed back to her table.

Anna relaxed as they chatted. She recalled
how she and her friends had spied on Rand during high school. Smart
and self-assured, as a senior and running back on the football
team, Rand was a well-liked student. She fantasized about him
asking her to the prom, her heart racing every time they passed in
the halls.

Rand hadn’t noticed the shy freshman with
braces. He noticed her now, admiring her as she sipped the hot
beverage and ate the bagel with gusto.

“Hey, can I walk you home? It’s late. I know
the crime rate here in Eaton is low, but we don’t let ladies walk
home alone.”

“That’s sweet of you. I have my car,” Anna
said.

“I’ll walk you to your car.” He stood and put
a hand on the back of her chair.

Anna rose, hefting her messenger bag. “Have
to get used to dragging one of these around again,” she said. “Ugh,
it’s heavy.”

“Let me carry it for you,” Rand offered. He
slung the pack over one shoulder and with a gentle hand on her back
guided Anna outside the coffee shop and toward her parked car.

“Where’s your car?”

“It’s over there,” he said, nodding his head
at the black convertible.

“Wow. Police work must be a lucrative
business.”

Anna paused by her older, dented Honda.
“Well, here we are,” she said.

“I’ll follow you home,” he said.

“No need. It’s close by.”

“I would feel better if I knew you were home
safe,” Rand said.

Anna smiled her consent. He opened the car
door, dropped the bag on the passenger’s seat and waited while she
adjusted her belt before closing it. Then he disappeared. Seconds
later, Anna heard the powerful rumble of the sports car and watched
in her rear-view mirror as it swung into a U-turn and waited,
purring like a powerful animal, while she started her car and drove
home.

Three blocks away, she parked on the street
in front of Gretchen’s apartment. The porch light glowed its
welcome. Before Anna could react, Rand grasped the handle and
opened the car door. Anna placed her hand in his, amused at his
chivalry. He reached through the opening and plucked her bag off
the seat.

“Must get used to carrying this around,” he
reminded her. He slung it over his shoulder and walked with her to
the front porch.

“Do you have your key?”

“Yes, it’s in my purse.”

“You should have it in your hand when you
step out of your car.”

“Yes, Dad.”

Rand moved closer to Anna, his hands
twitching to touch her. “If I were your dad, I …” his voice trailed
off.

“What?”

“I wouldn’t be able to do this,” he replied,
touching his lips to her soft cheek. He closed his eyes and inhaled
the flowery scent of her perfume. Flinching, Anna leaned against
the front door.

“I have my key ready now.” She waved it
before turning to unlock the door. She paused after opening it,
unsure what to say. “Thank you for seeing me home, Rand.”

“My pleasure.” He walked away, into the
darkness.

Half a block away, Aaron watched the car
surge down the street, its powerful engine revving in between gear
changes. He exited the truck, tucking his handgun in the back of
his jeans.

Chapter Thirteen

Anna was in the bathroom, splashing cold
water on her face when the doorbell buzzed. She jumped in alarm. At
night, the horrible sound seemed twice as loud.

Rand had returned. She didn’t want to hurt
his feelings, but she did not intend to let him in the house.
Whatever she felt in high school had been a childish crush.

She blotted water from her cheeks and slung
the towel on the bathroom knob, before approaching the front door.
She could see his outline through the opaque glass. She cracked
open the door. “I’m sorry Rand. It’s getting late.”

“That’s nice. I’m not Rand.”

Anna swung open the door. “What do you
want?”

“May I come in?” Aaron’s towering silhouette
filled the doorway.

She glared at him. “What? More
questions?”

He waited, silent and still for her
invitation.

Anna waved her right hand in an offhand
welcoming gesture. She closed the door when he entered. Her
nostrils flared as she caught his familiar scent of smoke and
spice. It lingered still on her pillow, transferred the night
before from her imprinted skin as she tossed, turned and alternated
between hugging and punching it.

“Are you alone? Is your roommate home?” he
asked, his green eyes scanning the room.

“Gretchen’s at her boyfriend’s.”

Aaron moved closer. “I wanted to apologize
for last night.”

Anna stiffened. He humiliated her, rejected
her and he thought a flimsy apology sufficed?

He glanced at the heavy bag on the floor by
the sofa. “Where have you been?”

“Where I go and what I do is not your
concern.”

“Whose concern is it? Officer Murphy’s?” He
advanced.

“No. Rand is just a friend,” she retorted,
her neck and cheeks flushing.

“Right. You kiss all your acquaintances or
just me and Rand?”