Protecting What's His (13 page)

“You know why. We’re more than sex, Ginger. Accept it.”

Her heart squeezed, but she kept an innocent expression on her face. She slipped her hand inside his pants and boxer briefs to close her fingers around his straining erection, molding him in her hand.

“Please, I want you so bad.”

His breath hissed out through his teeth. “Oh, God. I want you, too. So fucking bad, sweetheart.”

Then why was he being so damn stubborn? Surely he wouldn’t reject her advances over some doomed attempt at a relationship. Couldn’t he see it would never last? Nothing ever lasted when you put faith in anyone besides yourself. She tried to keep the desperation off her face. If he fought against this much longer, she didn’t want to ponder where that left her.

Ginger stood on tiptoes and placed openmouthed kisses along his neck, all the while stroking him against her palm. “Do you want to put it in my mouth, Derek?” she whispered against his ear.

“
Jesus Christ.
”

“You’ll be my first. Don’t you want to be my first again?”

“Enough! That’s fucking enough.” Clenching his teeth, he took her wrist and removed the hand fondling his erection, groaning as he freed himself.

Then he pinned her body against the refrigerator and brought his mouth down on hers, hard. Her eager mouth opened under his, letting his tongue sweep inside and take ownership. He wrapped her long hair around his fist, pulling with just the right amount of force and angling her head to accept his onslaught. Ginger’s hands were pinned above her head in Derek’s stronger grip, held there as his mouth doled out punishment. She accepted it greedily and without hesitation.

Arousal mixed with relief. He hadn’t rejected her. Ginger’s head swam with a multitude of unnamed emotions, overwhelming her senses. She could feel his raging need pressing against her stomach and squirmed against it, telling him without words how ready she was for him.

Then the kiss changed. His hips slowly distanced themselves from hers, the delicious friction disappearing. The hands manacling hers dropped lower to cup her face. Instead of being bruising and relentless, his tongue now soothed hers, as if apologizing for his earlier roughness. He brushed each of her swollen lips in turn, then left her mouth to dance across her face, planting soft kisses on her cheeks, eyelids, and forehead.

A sob broke from Ginger’s throat. Tears she hadn’t felt forming in her eyes cascaded down her cheeks. Derek kissed them away.

“Give me a chance, beautiful girl,” he whispered urgently against her mouth.

Something inside Ginger shattered. Self-preservation had her pushing Derek away and frantically pulling on her discarded shorts. Her hands shook so violently, it took her a full minute to get them buttoned and zipped. She could feel Derek watching her the entire time but she refused to look at him, knowing instinctively that his expression would force her to accept something impossible.

Snatching her purse off the counter, she turned and rushed to leave.

“Ginger, wait.”

“Don’t come anywhere near me, Derek. I don’t want to see you anymore,” she half-sobbed without turning around, then slammed the door.

Chapter Sixteen

Clip clip clip.

Ginger cut smoothly around the image of a giant duck and pasted it to the coffee table’s surface, smoothing the edges with her fingers. It reminded her of the disastrous Halloween she attempted to dress up five-year-old Willa in a makeshift costume consisting of a pillowcase and flip-flops. The final touch had been an orange funnel she’d taped over her sister’s mouth in lieu of a beak. They’d been forced to return home when Willa kept running into people and trees, unable to see over the kitchen utensil.

She turned the page in her
Good Housekeeping
magazine, eyes immediately drawn to the image of a family dressed in robes, gathered around a Christmas tree, complete with a wealth of wrapped presents at its base. Her smile disappeared. They’d never been able to afford a Christmas tree or presents, save the camera she’d bought Willa one year. Carefully, she cut around the tree, before applying paste to the back and slapping it upside down on the table, partially obscuring the picture of Dolly.

As she browsed further through the glossy pages, Ginger caught herself wondering what kind of home life Derek experienced as a child, then quickly sipped her scalding coffee to dispel the thought. She would never find out and it didn’t matter. His childhood could have rivaled hers in shittiness and it wouldn’t change a thing.

She ripped a page from the magazine and began cutting out a cherry pie recipe. Maybe this project’s theme could be
Irony
. A table full of things they’d never had. Disgusted with her attitude, Ginger let the scissors drop on the floor and heaved the magazine across the room.

Ironic is me buying
Good Housekeeping
magazine in the first place
, she thought, looking around at her pathetic attempt to create a home for Willa. It might have been a vast improvement from Nashville, but to her it screamed
low-class
. God, she’d never escape the reminders of where and what she’d come from. Maybe she wasn’t meant to.

Ginger wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them to her chest, letting her head fall forward. The second her eyes closed, Derek’s plea swam through her mind.

Give me a chance, beautiful girl.

Was she only imagining the plaintiveness in his tone? She hadn’t slept since their conversation, the memory still felt achingly fresh. Allowing herself to imagine, even for a second, what he’d meant by “give me a chance,” left her feeling dizzy and panicked. He didn’t know,
couldn’t know
, what he asked of her.

By forcing her to acknowledge that his interest went beyond sexual attraction, he’d effectively blasted a hole in the side of her already-sinking ship. She didn’t know her own identity without the illusion of sex. Had always used her looks to her advantage. But he wanted more. He wanted
her
.

Who am I, really?

Yesterday, she would have winked and told anyone who asked, “I’m a Southern girl with a big heart and an even bigger mouth.” Today? She didn’t have an answer. For so long, her focus had been solely on Willa, and she wouldn’t change her actions for anything in the world. But somewhere along the way, had she become the girl she’d merely been pretending to be?

Derek seemed to think more existed underneath the surface. How could he be so sure? If she gave him a chance, how long would it take him to realize his error?

She couldn’t open herself up for that kind of pain.

Not even for Derek, who could comfort, arouse, and challenge with a single look.

Caught up in her own thoughts, Ginger nearly jumped out of her skin when Willa spoke to her from the kitchen.

“Coffee, sis?”

How long had she been standing there? “No thanks, I’ve already had three cups.”

“Good lord.” Willa scooped the grounds into the holder, added water, and closed the lid. “Who are you and what have you done to Ginger?”

“Huh?” Trying to hide her puffy eyes, Ginger looked down, concentrating on the cigarette advertisement she pasted on the coffee table.

Willa frowned as she removed a coffee mug from the cabinet. “You worked last night. Shouldn’t you still be in bed?”

“Hmmm? Yeah. I couldn’t sleep.” She cleared the cobwebs from her throat and smiled at Willa. “Hey, I had an idea! I found this amazing coffee table downtown and I thought we could collaborate on it. We can combine some of your photos with the interesting clippings I find. It’ll be ours when we finish. We’ll keep it. What do you think?”

Willa finished pouring milk into the mug, then returned her smile. “I’ll go get my portfolio. Maybe I have some old shots we can use.”

“Great!”

Avoiding Willa’s intelligent gaze, Ginger ducked her head once more, pretending to consider different placements for the cutout she held in her hand. A few minutes later, Willa came back in the room carrying an oversize folder and took up residence on the floor beside her. Ginger felt a rush of gratitude for her sister when she refrained from mentioning the overtly sarcastic quality of the project so far.

Willa extricated a handful of photographs and began picking through them.

Ginger set down the magazine and picked up a glossy eight-by-ten shot of a broad-shouldered young man wearing a basketball uniform, his brows drawn together in concentration. The players surrounding him were the only giveaway that he was a high school student, because of how much older he looked. “Who’s this?”

“That’s Evan. Evan Carmichael.”

“Oh.” Ginger studied the picture. “Did you take this on Friday night? It’s really good, Wip.”

“Yep, I did. Thanks.”

Ginger set the photograph back down on top of the pile. “He’s really cute. Do you know him?” She winced at her attempt to sound nonchalant. Willa would definitely clam up on the double.

“Yeah. I know him. Actually…” She tugged the sleeves of her hoodie over her wrists, poking her thumb through a hole she’d created. “I think he’s going to ask me to the prom. Ha.”

Ginger’s mouth fell open. “Wh-what did you say? You’re considering going to a
dance
with this boy?”

“I’m thinking about it. Yeah.” She sighed. “
If
he asks, I’ll go.”

Ginger’s mind reeled. Her little sister, who to the best of her knowledge avoided human contact at all costs, had agreed to attend a dance? Remembering Willa’s reaction to her barb about attending the school basketball game, Ginger refrained from relaying her thoughts aloud.

Did this mean coming to Chicago had been the right thing for Willa? She scrutinized the blush staining her sister’s cheeks, the glimmer of humor in her eye. Ginger’s heart swelled.

She quickly tried to hide her proud-mama reaction by ducking her head, but her smile must have shown because Willa snickered into her coffee cup.

“Well, that’s fantastic, Willa,” Ginger said, attempting casual. “I assume you’ll need a dress?”

“I might.”

“Then I
might
be able to help pick it out?”

Willa laughed. “Ginger, I know fuck-all about dresses. You’re hired.”

Unable to restrain herself, Ginger clapped her hands twice. “Great. Just give me a little direction. Short, long, strapless…?”

Her sister gave a lopsided smile. “Just make me look better than Evan’s ex-girlfriend, Natalie. The blond, pom-pom-toting femme-bot.”

Ah, so this is what had been bothering Willa. She felt a rush of relief. Normal teenage problems. “Girl, when I’m done, she’ll have nothing on you.”

They passed the next hour going through Willa’s photographs and pulling out their favorites, deciding where to place them. Ginger even managed to weasel a few more details about Evan out of her sister—enough to get the sense that she really liked the boy. Which was shocking, to say the least. When Willa eventually left for school, Ginger dragged herself from the floor and went to make a fresh pot of coffee.

As she waited for it to brew, she tried to comprehend the last hour. Instead of reticent and moody, Willa had been practically jovial as they worked on the joint project. She’d had to force herself to act normal and not gape at the changes taking place in her sister. Her signature snark and foul mouth hadn’t gone anywhere, which Ginger found herself oddly thankful for. She loved the old Willa just as much as the new one.

Sipping at her fresh cup, Ginger found herself torn between joy over Willa’s transformation and confusion over her own inability to transform herself. Perhaps it had to do with age. Willa was still young and able to learn new tricks, so to speak. Ginger chose to take it as a sign that in some small way, she might have actually managed to shield Willa from the worst of their upbringing before it caused any permanent damage.

As for herself, she’d lacked any type of shield or voice of reason. Her life had been molded into a shape and left to harden in the sun. It was too late for her to change now.

Chapter Seventeen

After knocking one final time on Ginger’s door and not getting an answer, Derek turned to leave with a frustrated curse. She wouldn’t answer his phone calls and he didn’t have time to sit and wait for her to get back from wherever she’d gone.

With the situation at work rapidly coming to a head, the last place he should’ve been was trying to track down an AWOL Ginger, but goddammit, he couldn’t concentrate on the upcoming operation after the way they’d left things. She’d looked so shaken up leaving his apartment. If he could just talk to her, touch her, he would find a way to reassure her.

He’d walked into Sensation last night with every intention of humbling himself. He’d fucked up by allowing two days to pass with radio silence between them. Ginger might not admit it, but she’d needed him to make her feel wanted. And not just for one night. Instead, he’d gone off to work like an arrogant jackass, thinking she’d still be there playing house when he finally made it home. Sidling up to the bar, he’d been desperate to lay eyes on her after two days of missing her like hell.

The way she tilted her head when she back-talked him in that sexy accent. The way she pronounced his name. Her body fitting against his perfectly. Her scent. Her smile. He missed it all.

Then he’d seen that bastard’s hands on her. Little flashes of light had sparked in front of his eyes before it all went red. He couldn’t remember anything after that. Exiting the club and driving home was still a blur in his memory. With his blood still hot and pumping from the fight, he’d almost lost his control back at his apartment when she’d tried to seduce him. He still couldn’t believe he’d walked away from that level of temptation.

Jesus, the things she’d said…

He released a shuddering breath.

Unfortunately, he now had a reason to be concerned about more than just their tenuous relationship. He’d uncovered something this weekend that had him actively worrying about her safety. In addition to the mountain of bureaucratic bullshit he’d shoveled through this week, he’d fit in some calls to Nashville and filled in some gaps about Valerie Peet. The word around Nashville was that she owed a large sum of money to heavy hitter, Haywood Devon.

Derek’s sixth sense had started ticking once he received that information. Pieces were finally beginning to fall into place. Ginger leaving Nashville seemingly out of the blue, uprooting Willa so close to the end of her senior year. Her ability to afford an apartment well outside her means. The way she changed the subject whenever the past reared its head.

Ginger was in possession of the money.

She’d seen an opportunity to escape and taken it. Derek didn’t blame her. In fact, he was grateful for her actions because they had brought her to Chicago. To him. But as their relationship stood now, he couldn’t tell her he knew. She would panic and disappear, and he’d never see her again. The very prospect froze the blood in his veins.

Derek’s pacing came to a halt when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, hoping like hell for it to be Ginger. Instead, he saw Willa, shoulders hunched, looking completely distraught.

He cleared his throat to alert Willa of his presence and her head jerked up to reveal puffy, red-rimmed eyes. Embarrassment quickly followed, but then her chin went up a notch. Derek knew false bravado when he saw it. He also knew that if he showed her any kind of sympathy, she’d eat him alive. Apparently it ran in the family.

“Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Derek shrugged. “Lunch break.”

“Bullshit. Is Ginger not at home or is she just ignoring you?”

“Is ditching school a regular thing for you?”

“No. Maybe.” She glared at him. “Why the hell do you care? You’re a homicide cop, not a truancy officer.”

“Just a concerned citizen is all.”

Willa rolled her eyes and pushed past him. “If you’re looking for a way to score points with my sister, try not being an epic douche bag.”

Christ, this kid didn’t pull any punches. He kind of admired it. “Okay, I deserve that.”

He’d surprised her, but she hid it well. She kept her eyes down and dug around for her keys in her backpack. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“You can tell me why you look like shit.”

She barked out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh,
now
I know what Ginger sees in you.”

At least he’d gotten her to laugh. That counted for something. Without Ginger there to deal with her sister, he felt the need to fix it. Only one problem: he had very little experience comforting teenagers. Best to stick with his tried and true good cop/bad cop method. “Listen”—he checked his watch—“I don’t have time to watch some teenager cry and snot all over herself, but if you need to talk, I can pretend that I give a crap for a few minutes.”

“Need to talk?” Her mouth dropped open. “I can’t believe this. You’re
handling
me.”

“Sorry?”

“Lieutenant, you’re smarter than I gave you credit for. How is it that you’re so inept when it comes to handling my sister?”

“No one handles your sister.”

She shrugged. “I’ll concede that.”

The sound of heels clicking on wood grabbed their attention seconds before Ginger came into view at the top of the stairs. Derek’s mouth went dry at the sight of her. In jean shorts and cowboy boots, Ginger never looked less than stunning, but goddamn, she’d done something completely different today. Her hair had been pulled back away from her face and piled on top of her head in a loose bun. She wore a modest cream-colored dress that revealed no cleavage and dropped past her knees.

How then did she look the sexiest he’d ever seen her? He wanted to meet her halfway down the hall and kiss the breath out of her. Carry her into his apartment. Remind her how well he knew her body.

Derek heard Willa snicker at him behind his back. “Va va voom, sis. Who are you so dressed up for?”

Which had been his next fucking question.

When she spotted Willa standing behind him, Ginger’s pace quickened, her black pumps tapping with each step. “Willa, thank God. Is everything okay? I just saw your missed call.”

She passed Derek to get to her sister, shooting him a wary glance. Her wildflower scent washed over him. In that moment, he wanted very badly to be the first and last person each day to breathe it in.

“I’m fine, G.”

He watched Ginger’s own tired eyes widen as she examined her sister’s appearance. Willa tried to convey her usual belligerent expression, but didn’t quite pull it off. Her lower lip quivered a little.

“Is it the boy?” Ginger asked softly.

Willa burst into tears and launched herself into her sister’s arms. Ginger, appearing stunned by her sister’s show of emotion, stumbled backward a step before righting herself and tightening her arms around Willa.

A boy. He hadn’t seen that one coming.

Ginger met Derek’s gaze over her sister’s shoulder, her eyes swimming with fear and uncertainty. He swallowed around the knot in his throat at seeing her so unsure. Deserted of her usual confidence. Nodding somberly, he tried to communicate with his eyes that everything would be all right. For now, it would have to be enough.

Another set of footsteps pounded up the staircase. He frowned when a boy the size of a linebacker appeared, looking panicked and out of breath. The kid’s eyes widened on the girls embracing farther down the hallway, and with a choked noise, he tried to rush toward them past Derek. He stopped the newcomer cold with a firm hand to the chest.

“I’d explain myself rather quickly, if I were you.”

He didn’t even spare Derek a glance. “Willa, talk to me.”

Derek looked back over his shoulder to see Ginger standing protectively in front of Willa, fury radiating from her gorgeous face. He could have stood there watching her all day. She turned slightly and whispered something to Willa before sailing forward, coming to a stop near Derek.

Derek watched the kid’s eyebrows shoot skyward upon seeing Ginger up close.
I know that feeling too well.
To his credit, the kid kept his eyes from dropping below Ginger’s neck.

“You must be Ginger.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Her voice cracked like a whip and the kid winced. “Why
must
I be Ginger?”

“Willa mentioned that you…that everyone you meet falls in love with you. Not that
I
am,” he rushed out. “I’m just saying, I can understand it. Other people doing it. Oh God, I can’t say or do anything right today. Do you ever have a day like that? I am screwing this up so badly.”

Some of the fight went out of Ginger. She raised an eyebrow at Derek, obviously thinking the same thing he did. This kid seemed like the furthest thing from a heartbreaker.

“And you
must
be Evan. The reason my little sister is so upset. I don’t like to see my sister upset, Evan. Not at all. Give me one reason I shouldn’t toss you out of here on your ass.”

Evan looked relieved that Ginger was giving him an opportunity to speak. He tried to peek past her to see Willa, who stood immobilized at the end of the hallway, but Ginger blocked his view, crossing her arms over her chest. “I just need a chance to explain. She knows I would never hurt her on purpose. I just have to keep reminding her. And I will. Every day until she believes it.”

Ginger’s arms dropped to her sides, her anger deflating completely.
Damn, maybe this kid can give
me
some advice on how to handle a Peet sister.
After scrutinizing Evan for several long moments, Ginger turned and passed a silent question on to Willa, who lifted one shoulder and let it drop in response.

“All right, Evan. You have two minutes to make my sister smile before I turn you from a rooster to a hen in one shot. And don’t think I can’t do it.”

They both watched as Evan approached Willa. When he’d made it halfway, Willa held up a hand signaling for him to stop, which he immediately did.

“Natalie ambushed me in the parking lot this morning,” Evan began. “Her friends, my friends. Everyone was standing around talking. Out of nowhere she announces we’re going to prom together. She knew I wouldn’t correct her and embarrass her in front of everyone. She counted on it. I don’t even know why she wants to go with me. We’re barely even friends anymore.”

Willa stayed silent, clutching the strap of her backpack against her chest. Derek couldn’t tell by her expression whether or not she believed the poor kid. To be honest, he felt funny watching this teen drama play out, but he sensed Ginger needed him there. Even if she would never admit it.

“I did everything I could to find Natalie before fourth period, to tell her I wanted to ask you. I never even wanted you to know about what happened, but I didn’t get to her in time. She knows now, though. Believe me.”

Willa’s face cracked. “I hate you for making me care about some stupid high school dance, Evan Carmichael.”

He took a cautious step toward her. “No, you don’t hate me. Don’t say that.”

Tears streaked down her face. “Yes, I do.”

“Please don’t cry. There’s nothing to cry about.” Evan reached Willa in two strides and lifted her off the floor into a sweeping hug. She stuck her damp face in the crook of his neck and sobbed.

Derek glanced down at Ginger, who watched the couple in complete awe, moisture brimming in her eyes. Derek reached out without thinking and stroked a thumb across her cheek to comfort her. She leaned into his palm for a moment, then flinched away.

Derek sighed. “I have to get back to work, but we need to talk tomorrow.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Dammit, I—” His phone rang, cutting him off. Derek read the caller ID flashing across the screen. The chief of police had called twice, probably wondering where the hell he’d gone with less than an hour to go before the raid. “I have to go. We
will
talk tomorrow.”

Derek couldn’t afford to wait for her reply. He turned and stalked out of the building.