Jarod's Heart (King Brothers Stories #2) (14 page)

Shy?

Lauren was anything but shy and they both knew it. Whatever it was that was happening between them was getting stronger by the day, and God help him, he liked it.

He liked
her
.

LAUREN GOT HER
breathing under control and smiled at Jarod. He was so handsome that it hurt to look at him, especially when he was looking at her like she was a delicious piece of candy that he wanted to suck on and lick to his heart’s content.

Maybe I should let him unwrap me.

She didn’t like feeling unsure of herself, so she winked at him, breaking the spell. If she didn’t do something quickly, they were going to spontaneously combust right there in front of everyone and embarrass themselves.

“You better get that princess to bed. I think I wore her out today,” Camille said from across the room.

“You’re right, Mom,” Jarod said. “Where’s her blanket?”

“I’ll get it. She ran out of the craft room so fast that she forgot all about it,” Lauren explained. She gingerly moved the sleeping child off her lap, but before she could get completely out from under her, Lauren felt Jarod’s strong hands lifting Jessica. As he did so, his fingers grazed her thigh and sent a shockwave of awareness zipping through her body.

“I’ve got her. You get the blanket and I’ll meet you upstairs.”

What he said was completely innocent, but the heat in his eyes and the soft, sexy tone of his voice said he intended to do more than just put Jessica down for the night.

While she’d dreamed for years that Jarod would have those kinds of ideas about her, she knew that tonight was not the right time to fulfill her lifelong fantasy. She loved him, there was no doubt, but there was no way she would engage in a random affair with Jarod King. She respected him, and herself, too much to let that happen. If he wanted her, he would have to want her for the rest of their lives.

Having decided not to give in to temptation, she smiled at him and said, “Sure, be right there.”

She followed behind him as he carried Jessica, admiring the man who loved his child. She found him even more attractive now that he was a doting father.

She expected him to head straight for the stairs, but instead he led her to the craft room, standing just outside the entrance.

“Aren’t you coming inside?” she asked as innocently as she could.

“Not if I can help it,” he deadpanned.

Chuckling, she hurried in and grabbed the blanket. Her smile broadened when she draped the blanket over Jessica’s small shoulders, noticing the pumpkin tucked up in her arms.

“Follow me up to my room. I need to tell you something,” Jarod whispered.

“Okay,” she agreed, knowing full well that he had a lot more on his mind than talking.

She admired his delectable derrière as he walked up the stairs ahead of her. His tush was right at eye level, and it took everything she had not to slip a hand into one of his back pockets.

She just barely contained her giggle.

When he reached his room, he pushed the door open, gesturing with one hand for Lauren to enter ahead of him while he kept hold of Jessica with the other. She’d never been inside his suite, only viewed it from the hallway when she’d accidentally-on-purpose strayed to the wrong side of the massive house. It was exactly how she pictured his living space to be: neat and tidy, and very utilitarian. The sitting room consisted of a small entertainment center, a contemporary couch and recliner, a coffee table, and a small end table with a lamp. There were bookshelves along one wall, containing pictures of him and his family sporadically strewn about.

She followed him into his bedroom, which was decidedly
not
what she had expected. He had a huge, king-sized, four-post bed with matching armoire, two night stands, and a highboy dresser. The door to his large walk-in closet was open. All his clothes were hung up and evenly spaced apart, his uniform the first to be seen. His shoe rack contained a variety of shoes, including cowboy boots. What really surprised her were the many fluffy throw pillows strewn about the large bed and plush duvet in soft, earthy colors. Where the sitting room was almost sterile and blah, his bedroom was warm and masculine, looking like something out of an eighteenth-century castle.

And, of course, the whole place smelled like the man who slept here, putting her in a trance.

She was staring at the bed when he asked, “Can you pull her sneakers off, please?”

“Oh! Of course.”

She carefully untied Jessica’s shoes and pulled them off. Unsure of where he wanted them, she placed them near the armoire.

He sat down on the bed and cradled his daughter, who didn’t stir, in his arms. “Do you think we should try to wrangle her into her pajamas or what?”

She smiled at such a capable alpha male being taken down by a four-year-old little girl. “I think we can get her jeans off, but let’s leave her in her t-shirt for now. I think she needs sleep more than she needs jammies, and she’s catching some good Zs now. Better not interrupt that, don’t you think?” she asked.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” he whispered, then looked up into her eyes. “They grow in their sleep, did you know that?”

“Been doing research, huh?”

“A little,” he chuckled.

Together, they undressed Jessica as much as possible without waking her. When Lauren pulled back the covers, Jarod slipped his little girl underneath. He made sure that her blue blanket was nestled in her arms, and he placed her toilet paper pumpkin on the night stand next to her.

“If she wakes up, she’ll be sure to see it,” he whispered.

Lauren smiled, warmed by his need to explain his endearing thoughtfulness.

However, as soon as Jessica left his arms and he stood to face her, she noted the seriousness of his expression.

Cop mode.
She immediately went on alert.

“What’s happened, Jarod?”

“Let’s go into the sitting room.”

She followed him into the next room, noting that he left his bedroom door ajar.

“I received a call from Detective Cane while you were in the Room of Doom.”

She laughed. “I can’t take you seriously when you call it that, Jarod. You sound like you’re twelve.”

He sucked in a big breath through his nose and just stared at her. He rolled his eyes heavenward before his dimple surfaced in his left cheek. “Fine. The craft room. Can I finish?”

“Please do, sir,” she said, barely containing her mirth.

He sat down on the couch, signaling for her to sit next to him.

Scrunching up her brows, she waved a hand at him, indicating for him to continue.

“Miranda was murdered.”

“I thought you said she died in a car crash.”

“That was the initial story. The truth is that she and her lover were burned beyond recognition. The autopsy just came back, and both victims had been shot first. Detective Cane will need my attendance logs for the day they were killed, to rule me out as a possible suspect, but, for good measure, I’d like you to give him a full month’s worth, three weeks before the murders and up to today. I don’t want there to be any doubt that I haven’t left the area. Understood?”

“Absolutely. I’ll do it first thing.” She stared at him, trying to process what he had just told her. “What do you think they were doing in the middle of the desert?”

He shook his head and leaned back into the cushions of the couch. “I have nothing to go on, but I’m thinking it was a drug deal gone bad. Her file is full of arrest records and CPS reports, which is proof enough that my little girl was growing up around crystal meth, or at least in a house where the owners were using every night. I’m praying that she wasn’t around when they were cooking that crap. The chemicals in the air…” he trailed off and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “She’s so tiny, Lauren,” he whispered.

“I know, but she seems healthy enough. She’s definitely smart. Camille said she was an angel while they were out. It’s probably why she’s so tired, too. I’ve been shopping with your mother. It’s almost like waging a military campaign,” she giggled.

He slowly reached over and twirled one of his fingers around a curl in her hair, like he’d been doing downstairs. “You are so beautiful. You know that, don’t you?” he asked softly.

Before she could say anything, he sat up and took her face in his palms. He kissed her lips sweetly, softly. Her heart rate began to race and warmth shot through her limbs from his soft touch. Before she could tell him to stop, he brushed his warm lips over hers one last time and rested his forehead to hers.

They were both breathing hard when he whispered, “Thank you for being with her tonight.” He paused and swallowed whatever else he might’ve said.

She leaned away from him, holding both of his hands in hers. She smiled and whispered back, “You are most welcome.”

She got up off the couch and walked to the door before anything more could happen.

“Goodnight, Jarod.”

He seemed surprised by her retreat but schooled his features, like the good cop that he was.

“G’night, Lauren.”

She walked through the door into the hallway and made her way across the huge house to her room. Fighting the tears, she gathered up her things and decided to go home instead of staying. She was getting too comfortable at the estate.

As much as she wanted it to be so, Jarod and his family were not her own. Jessica was not her daughter. And Jarod needed time to bond with his child. Distancing herself seemed like the logical thing to do right now, before she got too attached.

It wasn’t like she was walking away forever, she told herself. She had plenty of things that needed to be completed at work before she left it to go into business with Camille, like actually give her resignation.

She had the parish dinner to work on, as well as the Kings’ trick-or-treat event. She’d be back here often enough, working on the wedding, too.

She needed her own space to think and clear her mind before the inevitable panic crept in, that horrible voice that told her so often that she wasn’t worth being loved in return. She shoved that unpleasant thought as far back as she could before putting her car into gear.

As she drove out of the driveway, she ignored the tears falling down her cheeks, concentrating on the road instead…and the possible suspects in Miranda’s murder.

A
very Decatur was pure pond scum. He’d like to put ol’ Avery in a hole for being so sloppy, but he still needed information from the imbecile.

Keeping his hat pulled low over his face and avoiding the security cameras, the man signed the visitors’ log with an alias while showing his fake ID to the guard, who didn’t bat an eye.

Idiot.

Shaking his head, the man was allowed access to the visiting area.

Avery had already been ushered to a stall and was waiting for him. He bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile, and the man was somewhat mollified by the look of fear on Avery’s face as he approached the cubical that separated them by a thin layer of bulletproof glass.

He picked up the phone receiver at the same time as Avery, who now looked a little pale.