The Last Execution (20 page)

His argument sounded reasonable, so she didn’t protest. He parked, and Leigh tried to get out on her own. The world spun. She reached behind her, searching for something to grab. What she found was J.T.’s strong, firm hand.

“I shouldn’t have let you refuse a trip to the hospital.”

“Don’t like hospitals.” Leigh rested her head on his shoulder when he lifted her in his arms and hurried for the elevator. He put her down long enough to unlock the door, walk her inside, and kick it closed.

“I can stand,” she protested.

He ignored her by scooping her up again and carrying her straight to the bathroom, where one-handed, he turned on the shower.

“I’m putting you down. Get under the warm water. Don’t make me undress you.”

“I can do this. Go.” If she hadn’t been so shaken and cold, she might’ve accepted his offer.

“I’ll be right outside the door.”

He kissed her on the forehead and left her with the memory of his lips on her skin.

Leigh struggled with her wet jeans. Her strength had vanished. Damn, she’d had a wreck, not major surgery. She stripped, opened the glass door, and stepped into the heat. Leigh sank down on a bench seat, thankful his shower had one and let the water flow over her body.

Slowly, the tension and terror subsided. Had she let her imagination get out of control? How crazy did she sound insisting her wreck wasn’t an accident? Had the Good Samaritan really said his name was Doyle? And why hadn’t he hung around unless he wanted to avoid the police?

J.T.’s voice snapped her out of her deep thoughts. “Here’s a towel, and I’m leaving dry clothes on the sink.” He was silent for a minute. “Leigh. Say something, or I’m coming in.”

Another time, she might’ve considered his words a dare. “I’m okay. I’ll be out in a sec.”

“Yell if you need me.” The air cooled when the bathroom door opened and closed behind him.

Her fingertips had wrinkled by the time she turned off the shower. She’d been trying to remember everything the man who helped her had said. It nagged at her while she ran a comb through her hair and noticed the clothes. They’d swallow her, but they were warm and dry. And his. She’d girded up the drawstring on the running shorts and slid the baggy Falcons sweatshirt over her head when she noticed her wet things were gone.

She found him at the kitchen stove stirring something in a pan. She slid onto a swivel barstool while he poured soup. Her eyes followed the movements of his hands. Strong, long fingers carried a bowl and napkin to the breakfast bar. Safe inside his apartment, she was glad he’d brought her here. Wearing camo pants, a black T-shirt, and no shoes, he made her forget she ached all over. He scanned her from head to toe, nodded approvingly, and handed her a spoon.

“Nice outfit.” His eyes grew dark and sultry.

“You don’t think they’re too big?”

“Nope. You look great.”

“Thanks.” Leigh stared into the bowl of the chicken noodle soup. She wanted to ask him to wrap those muscular bare arms around her. To put his hands on her. To touch her. Skin to skin. Instead, she rolled up her sleeves then stabbed the spoon in her bowl and stirred. “I seem to be thanking you a lot.”

“Feel free to stop. It’s not necessary.” He tossed the empty can in the trash. “Although you do seem to be a trouble magnet.”

Her breath caught. She shouldn’t be surprised. He was tired of coming to her rescue. “I’m sorry.”

J.T. walked to her and turned the stool seat around. He wedged himself between her knees and bracketed her body by placing his hands on the breakfast bar. “You can stop saying that, too. It so happens, I like trouble.”

The vein in his neck throbbed with the rapid rhythm of his heart. She boldly opened her thighs wider to better accommodate his hips. The air crackled with an electrical charge, heat raced up her legs, and she sighed. No way for him not to notice. “You do?”

“Yep.” He tucked her damp hair behind her ears, stepped back, and spun her back to her soup. “Now eat up, before I forget you were in a car wreck.”

Leigh waited for the blood in her veins to cool while she steadied the spoon enough to get a bite to her mouth. Her breasts were swollen with need. Not to mention the rapid pulsing between her legs. Geesh, she’d been seconds away from ripping the shirt off his back and tasting every inch of his bare flesh. She finished eating and pushed the bowl away. “That was good.”

“I’m available for weekend work,” J.T said, his gaze locked on her mouth. “I left Casey a lengthy update on his voicemail. Told him we’d be in the field and not to look for us today.”

“I need to stop by my house before we check in with the hospital. Want to bet Mrs. Holibeck didn’t fall on the stairs and hurt herself?”

“No way. Your wet clothes are in the dryer.” He walked into the living room and gestured toward the bedrooms. “You’ll have to sleep commando tonight.” His green eyes darkened. “You know the way.”

“Yes I do.” When Leigh reached the hall juncture, she hesitated. Every fiber of her being, every cell in her brain, every hormone in her body pleaded...turn right.

She trembled like a frightened virgin. Fear of having sex with him wouldn’t keep her out of his bed. The danger to Ethan was too much. He’d fall in love with J.T., and his heart would be broken when the temporary fun of playing daddy wore off and J.T. moved on. She had to protect her son from getting hurt. Didn’t she? Ethan’s mother hooked a left.

****

Thursday, May 6, 9:00 a.m.

J.T. removed Leigh’s clothes from the dryer. Christ, he couldn’t stop thinking of her climbing into bed naked. How he’d shown restraint was a mystery, because it had been hard as hell to not follow her. No way did he have her inner strength. She’d walked right down the hall and shut the door.

He wanted to touch every inch of her. Kiss her until she begged him for release. No, he wanted to devour her. Repeatedly. If he didn’t get her naked and under him soon, he’d be the one having an accident. J.T. looped the lacy beige bra over his finger and gathered the rest in his arms. Her panties fell off the stack and landed on his bare foot. His moan echoed off the washer and dryer. He snatched them up, and stuck them on the bottom of the pile out of sight. He adjusted himself, willed his aching hard-on to go away, and went to the kitchen. After he plopped her things on the breakfast bar, he poured two coffees and carried one down the hall.

“Time to go, bright eyes.” He tapped on the bedroom door. “Say something, or I’m coming in.” Maybe this time, he’d get an invitation.

Leigh opened the door and smiled at the sight of the steaming cup in his hand. Dark circles under her eyes reflected lack of rest. Guilt hit him in the chest. He’d been lusting over her underwear while she tried to recover from a car wreck. The fading bruise on her cheek made his hands itch to return the favor to the bastard who’d hit her.

“Caffeine. I may need to mainline a gallon to get my brain started.” She held the cup under her nose, closed her eyes, and breathed in.

“Damn. I left your clothes in the kitchen.” He stalked after them. Returning, he shoved the soft silk in her hands. “We need to go interview Mrs. Holibeck.”

“Give me ten minutes. Then let’s run by my house. I need fresh work clothes.” She followed him down the hall, carrying her stuff, and retreated to the bathroom.

J.T. finished his coffee and ran last night’s events back through his mind. His thoughts ended on Leigh’s car wrapped around the streetlight. She believed the pickup driver deliberately cut in front of her and caused the accident. Her instincts were good, and sometimes your gut was all you had to go on. He needed someone to gather intel on the down-low. He dug his old friend’s card out of the catchall drawer and punched in his number.

By the time Leigh came down the hall, J.T. had arranged a meeting tonight with David Campbell. Prying into her background went against everything he believed in, but Leigh needed help.

“After we leave the hospital, will you drop me at a car rental?” She placed his neatly folded running shorts and sweatshirt on the end of the counter. “I’ll call my parents, babysitter, and insurance company on the way to my place.”

Leigh glanced at her watch. Her gaze drifted somewhere faraway as she crossed her arms over her chest. Sort of a self-hug.

“I missed a chance to call Ethan before school.”

“Do it now.” J.T. set their cups in the sink and headed for the front door.

“He’s in school. I don’t know what I’d do without my mother’s help.” She dug her phone out and stopped in the middle of the room, staring at her cell with a puzzled expression.

“I turned it off last night while you were in the shower. You needed to rest.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Leigh stomped to him and got nose-to-nose. Color rushed up her neck, across her face and disappeared into her hairline. She scrolled through the list of missed calls. “What if there’d been an emergency?”

J.T. walked away without responding. She could what-if all she wanted. Somebody had to look out for her, and he saw no need to defend his actions. The elevator arrived with people on board he recognized from upstairs, saving him from suffering the wrath of her temper. Not that it mattered. He’d do it again if the situation arose.

He ignored the dirty looks she shot him on the way to her house. By the time he pulled on the freeway, Leigh had called her sitter and her mother, ensuring Ethan was fine and in school. The emotional bond she shared with her parents, and the love she showed for her son was way past J.T.’s level of understanding. His grandmother had never clung to him. In fact, she’d pushed him out into the world and encouraged his independence.

Leigh called her mother. The sadness in her tone confirmed JT’s belief. Carrying the burden of being a mother was too much to expect of anyone. Except for his grandmother, the devotion and commitment gene didn’t run in his family’s DNA.

J.T. drove through a fast-food restaurant and spread the food out on Leigh’s kitchen table while she changed clothes. Unlike other women who’d moved in and out of his life, Leigh didn’t spend a lot of time in front of the mirror. Before her egg and bacon croissant had cooled, she sat across from him, polished and professional. The guilt-ridden mother, along with the frightened woman he’d held in his arms last night, had been replaced by the cop. She hadn’t complained about being stiff or sore. The fact she moved slower didn’t escape him.

“You up to this? It’s okay if you take the day off.” J.T. gathered the trash when they’d finished and tossed it in the garbage.

“I’m fine.” On her way out, she leaned down, picked up a plastic baseball bat, and dropped the toy in a box.

The sight of her heart-shaped ass bent over in front of him flooded his groin with blood. Christ, her taut, firm cheeks would fit perfectly in his hands.

“Yes,” he said to mostly to himself. He’d missed a chance to make love to her last night. A chance he might not get back. “You are fine.”

She straightened her shoulders and tossed him a half frown over her shoulder. He waited for a comment that didn’t come.

****

Thursday, May 6, noon

“She ain’t hurt, but she needs a new car.” Vick’s lips curled into something he’d probably call a smile.

“Good. If anybody questions my whereabouts, I have an alibi. Too bad you couldn’t stick around and take pictures.” Jason pushed the plate with his uneaten meal away. Vick’s putrid breath wafting across the table polluted the air and Jason’s food.

Vick picked up a fistful of fries and stuffed them in his mouth. “I got the hell away from there. Wasn’t taking a chance on getting questioned. Besides, the bitch tagged my rear end. You owe me a taillight.”

Jason swallowed his nausea at Vick’s eating habits. Next time they’d meet in the park. In the dark. Away from food. “What else?”

“She didn’t go home last night. I was listening this morning when she showed up with her boyfriend in tow. Stayed long enough for her to change clothes.”

“She spent the night with him?”

“How the hell would I know?”

“Find out this bastard’s name. If you can’t do it, I know a PI who’ll be happy to take my money.”

Vick leaned over the table. “You gonna kill her soon?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jason looked around to see if anyone had overheard Vick. “Not yet. The guy you’re keeping on ice will be used again. Soon as I pick the right spot and time.”

“He’s up for anything we need.”

“I’ll be in touch.” Jason dropped a twenty on the table. “Enjoy lunch.”

****

Thursday, May 6, 9:00 p.m
.

Nana surprised J.T. and accepted the invitation to picnic with the McBride family. She not only wanted to go, she intended to bring a covered dish. He’d counted on her for an excuse to get himself out of attending. Instead, they’d talked through her entire list of recipes before settling on banana pudding. Hell, a trip to the park would do her good.

“Supper was delicious.” J.T. patted his full stomach. “I’m miserable.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed the dumplings. I need to get a new housekeeper, because Elva wanted me to use store-bought biscuits. Can you imagine a more disgusting idea?”

“Walk me out.” He ignored her question. She and Elva were exactly alike, bullheaded, and opinionated. J.T. knew better than to take sides.

“No need to eat and run,” Nana protested.