Wedding Bell Blues (21 page)

He didn't say anything. Instead, he turned and crossed the
room in
three quick strides. With his back to me, he simply stared out the
window. At his side, his right hand fisted once before relaxing. I
could almost hear him counting to ten, twenty, maybe even a hundred as
he struggled for patience. Finally, he turned, his expression resigned.

"Jessie, you've got stop taking unnecessary risks," he said
softly.
"I know you're scared. You'd be a fool not to be. But running off
without telling anyone where you're going and who you're going to see
is dangerous."

"All right." I wouldn't apologize again. Not when I'd already
apologized more to him in the last few days than I had in, well,
forever. Best not to keep it up or he might get used to it and, well,
that just wouldn't do.

He sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. "So, where did
you go?"

Oops, maybe this being open and honest with him wasn't such a
good idea. He wasn't going to like what I had to say.

"Jessie?" he prompted when I didn't answer right away.

"Promise not to get mad?"

"Oh, shit, Jess. What did you do?"

"I went to the impound yard to talk to the idiot who gave out
my name. Then I went to the funeral home."

"Ah, damn it, Jess." He dropped onto the edge of the bed and
rested
his head in his hands. "What happened?" he asked without looking up.

Quickly, not giving him a chance to interrupt, I told him. He
even
smiled just a bit when I admitted I'd decided not to rip Officer
Osselli a new one for fear he'd stroke out on me or drop dead of a
heart attack. Still, I could tell Colton wasn't happy with me. Well,
too bad.

"Jessie, promise me -" He held up a hand and I closed my mouth
with
a snap. "Promise me not to go off on your own again. At least not until
we figure out what's going on."

"I want to, Colton." Strangely enough, I wanted to promise
just
that. It wasn't perversity that kept me from it. Well, not completely
at least. I simply knew myself and I didn't take to enforced idleness
or seclusion well, no matter what the reason.

Of course, his look of frustration only made it more
imperative that I not make the promise.

"But?"

"Colton, I can't sit here and wait for you and the others to
figure
out what's going on. I'll go crazy. So either give me something to do
or lock me up, because I'm not going to sit still like a good little
girl. Remember, there are many things I am. A good little girl isn't
one of them."

"Tell me about it."

The bastard! I couldn't believe he'd said it aloud. Just
because it was the truth didn't mean he could agree with me.

"I'd have thought you'd know that much about me at least."

His eyes flashed, and he pushed off the bed. "I ought to lock
you
up," he growled. "You're stubborn and too convinced of your own
infallibility and invincibility. And you sure as hell don't think half
the time."

"Oh, and you aren't stubborn? Or convinced of the exact same
thing you just accused me of being?"

Screw this. If he wanted to go toe-to-toe, I'd be more than
happy to oblige.

"At least I don't put myself in danger needlessly."

"The hell you don't! Big, macho cop who goes out hunting the
bad guys. Sure you don't put yourself in danger."

"Damn it, Jessica, that's different and you know it."

One part of my brain warned me this was neither the time nor
the
place for this particular argument. Not that I heeded it. We'd had ten
years to seethe, for our wounds to fester. Maybe it was for the best we
deal with this here, where my parents the doctors could patch us up
after the bloodletting was over.

"All I know is that you keep
telling me what I should and shouldn't do, without explanation. And
there is no way - let me repeat that - no way I'm going to do something
just because you tell me to."

I jabbed my finger against his chest, punctuating each word
more
forcefully than the one before it as my anger built. His expression
darkened, his nostrils flared and, before I could react, he grabbed my
wrists and wrenched my arms behind me, pinning them there.

"Colton!"

"I ought to cuff you to the bed and leave you there until you
come to your senses."

Before I knew what he planned, he bent and his mouth fastened
on
mine. I wanted to struggle, to push him away. How dare he! But I also
wanted to hold him close. Which meant I was extremely frustrated when
he continued to hold my hands behind my back as his mouth continued its
assault on mine.

Suddenly my back was against the wall. He released my left
hand but
before I could react, he shifted so our combined weight held it behind
me. Not that I struggled too much. How could I? Why would I when his
mouth moved from mine to the hollow of my throat? His right hand tugged
impatiently at my tee shirt, freeing it from my jeans. Then his hand
was under my shirt, his fingers searching, probing under my bra, and I
moaned softly as my heart beat a bit more rapidly in response to his
touch.

Dear God, I wanted him and, judging by the bulge in his jeans
as he pressed against me, the desire was mutual.

I wanted his hands on me and mine on him. Why wouldn't he
release my
hands? It wasn't fair, especially not when he kissed me again, deep and
hot, and I just knew the top of my head was going to blow off. God, he
was good, better than he'd been ten years ago. Or maybe I just didn't
remember. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered just then beyond the
feel of his hand on my breast, his mouth on mine.

Oh, sweet Lord, when did I stop feeling my feet?

Colton pulled back and I opened my eyes, disappointed. Then,
seeing
where we stood, remembering that we were in my parents' house and they
were just downstairs, I groaned in dismay. No and no and NO. We
couldn't do this. Not now and certainly not here. Not in my childhood
bedroom and not with my parents in the house.

There's absolutely no way I could have sex, and especially not
with Colton, now.

Of course, all protests were lost the moment his mouth closed
over
mine again. Hormones and lust battered against that little voice in the
back of my head reminding me where we happened to be. But I didn't
care. I didn't care about anything except the fact he'd finally
released my hands and they were now free to hold him close, to fist in
his hair as I returned his kiss with a passion that surprised us both.

Besides, I was a big girl, after all, and my parents knew I
had sex. They might not necessarily approve, but....

My parents...my mother...oh, shit!

That look on her face as Colton all but dragged me upstairs.
She
knew what would happen. Worse, she wanted it to happen and she
approved. If we didn't stop now, we'd be lost. She'd have our wedding
planned before we got downstairs.

Colton shifted slightly, deepening the kiss as he did. At the
same
time, he worked to unzip my jeans. He stepped back long enough to pull
the tee shirt over my head and toss it onto the floor. My bra quickly
followed.

I reached out, once more fisting my hands in his hair. He
grinned
like a kid in the candy store as I guided that talented mouth of his to
my breast. He nipped and teased my nipple and my breath caught and all
resistance fled.

What the hell? Why not let Mom have what she wanted,
especially since I wanted it as well?

"Clothes," I gasped as he knelt to pull down my jeans. I
stepped out
of them and then watched, mesmerized, as he finished undressing me.
"You've got too many clothes on."

Without waiting for him to respond, I reached out and grasped
his
shirt. A quick tug, a triumphant grin and the buttons popped, flying
across the room. I pushed the material from his shoulders and leaned
in, inhaling the smell of him.

God, he was gorgeous.

"Jessie," he groaned as my hands got very busy with his slacks.

"Undress. Get undressed," I ordered, my heart pounding as my
need
for him built. I searched behind me for the doorknob, pushing the
button to lock it. Even though they might realize what was going on up
here, I didn't want to run the risk of anyone interrupting us.

"You do realize that we're going to have to face my parents
when we
go downstairs, don't you?" I asked as I reached for my jeans from the
pile of clothes in the middle of the floor.

Colton groaned and
paled at the thought. I almost laughed before I managed to turn it into
a choking cough. Not that it fooled him. He glared at me before
dropping onto the edge of the bed at my side. His hand found mine and
my fingers curled around his. No doubt about it, he and I were most
definitely going to have to have a talk before long.

"We could sneak out the back door," he suggested, with more
than a
hint of panic in his voice. "Better yet, we could crawl through your
window and drop to the ground. We'd be gone long before your mother
realized it."

"Don't bet on it, Sherlock. This is my mother we're talking
about. Nothing happens in this house that she doesn't know about."

"Christ, what were we thinking?" He dragged his hand through
his
hair, and then a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He gave me a
look that was such a mixture of lust and promise of all sorts of bad
things to come that I felt myself responding once more. Damn, but he
could get my blood going without even trying.

"I don't think we were thinking, at least not with our
brains." I
blushed, he chuckled and I leaned against him. "Colton, what's
happening with us?"

"I don't know." Well, at least he was honest. Not that his
answer
was what any self-respecting woman wanted to hear. "We probably ought
to talk about it. But please, not here. It's bad enough your mother
knows we had sex. It's worse, so much worse, that she knows we had it
here, in your room, under her roof. I do not want to discuss us where
she might hear and start getting ideas."

"Colton, for a smart man and an even better cop, you sure
don't have
a clue." I chuckled when he looked at me in question. Poor, innocent
Colton. He really didn't know what I was talking about. "My sister has
already hooked you into being a member of the bridal party. What do you
think my mother is going to do now? I'll lay odds she's already checked
the church calendar to see when we can be married."

"Don't. Just don't."

Then as if realizing he might have just insulted me, he paled.
Not
that he had insulted me. I wasn't ready to figure out what was going on
between the two of us. So how could I be insulted when the thought of
my mother starting wedding plans terrified him? Especially since the
thought terrified me as well.

"It's okay," I assured him,
reaching up to give his cheek a quick kiss. "But we had best finish
getting dressed and go downstairs. The sooner we face her, them, the
sooner we get it over with."

"Easy enough for you to say. You have a complete set of
clothes to
wear. Unlike me. You sort of ruined my shirt." He held up the shirt,
minus most of its buttons, for me to see.

That did present a problem.

"Hang on." I climbed to my feet and crossed to the small
closet. It
didn't take long to find what I was looking for. I turned back to him,
a large football jersey in my hand. "This should fit."

He caught it before it could hit him in the face. As he pulled
it
on, I debated finding a clean shirt for me and then shrugged. Might as
well just put the one I'd been wearing before hormones took over the
two of us.

Five minutes later, we made our way downstairs. It
was so quiet, I began to hope we were actually alone in the house.
Colton did as well, even if he did all but tiptoe down the stairs and
into the entry hall. We moved as quickly and quietly as we could to the
front door, hoping to get outside and to his car before we were
discovered.

Of course, I should have known better. My father might have
left the
house with Colton and me upstairs, but my mother never would have. And,
as if to prove it, just as I reached for the front doorknob, I heard
several quick, almost staccato steps coming from the den. We'd been
caught.

"And just where do the two of you think you're going, sneaking
out like a couple of misbehaving kids?"

The
she stood, arms crossed, small foot tapping a beat against the tile
floor, trying to look stern. The humor reflected in her blue eyes
ruined it, though. She not only approved of the fact Colton and I were
together - hell, that we'd just had sex - but, for whatever reason, she
felt she had at least a hand in it all. Believe me, the only hands that
had been involved in our activities of the last hour or so had been
Colton's and mine. And they had been very involved.

The thought of which only made me blush deeper, and it was all
I
could do not to hide behind Colton. The fact he was doing his best to
hide behind me didn't help any. Great, we were both terrified of my
mother.

"We weren't trying to sneak out, Mama." Thankfully, my voice
didn't
crack. Of course, she didn't believe me. She knew me too well. "We just
needed some fresh air."

"I'm sure you do."

She shook her head, a smile playing at her
lips. Then, as if deciding to take mercy on us, she simply stepped back
and motioned us into the den. Colton gave me one look, his eyes
pleading that we make a break for it. Would that we could. But that
wasn't going to happen and, if I had to face the music, so did he. Just
to make sure he didn't make a run for it, I grabbed his hand and all
but dragged him after me into the den.

"Mama," I began as Colton and I took seats on the sofa. "I'm
sorry I worried you."

"Jessie, you scared me to death."