Then before she could draw a breath to speak, his hands framed her face and his mouth was on hers, hot and hungry and she couldn’t breathe at all. He ended it as abruptly as he’d begun, pulling back far enough to see her eyes. “That was real,” he said, his voice low and rough. “And that wasn’t for my job. That was for me.”
She stared up at him, stunned, her breath coming in short pants.
“And for you,” he added quietly. “Especially for you.” He took his hands from her face and she realized she gripped the lapels of his overcoat. Her right fist throbbed, but she didn’t let go. Wasn’t sure she could.
He pried her right hand from his coat, pushed her sleeve past her wrist. His face darkened. “Buckland put his hands on you. He bruised you.”
Her heart beat like a rabid hummingbird and her knees were still weak as she saw the dark bruises that had formed from Kurt Buck-land’s fingers. “How did you know?”
“Jeff Betz called me when he left to pick up his wife. He’d heard about this morning, figured I’d want to know about tonight. Would you have told me, Eve?”
“Yes,” she said, without hesitation. “He grabbed me because I wouldn’t look at some pictures he had in an envelope. He said I’d see you weren’t such a ‘good guy.’ ”
“What were the pictures?”
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t look. He got mad and Jeff made him leave. He was scary, like he was wound too tight and the rubber band broke.”
His lips twitched, surprising her. “Is that your clinical diagnosis?”
She didn’t smile. “He’s dangerous, Noah. You need to be careful.”
His eyes narrowed and she knew he was still angry despite the little injection of humor. Deliberately he looked at the wrist he still held with gentle fingers. “Just me?”
Her knees steadier now, she tugged her wrist free and took a step back. “Okay, both of us. He didn’t look quite sane for a minute.” She touched the tip of her tongue to her lip. It was still tingling, distracting her from the memory of Kurt Buckland lunging over the bar. That wasn’t for my job. “Jeff also told you that Trina was here.”
“Yeah. He… overheard,” he said and Eve rolled her eyes.
“He eavesdropped on a private conversation. You cops are so nosy.”
“If we weren’t nosy we wouldn’t catch many bad guys. And you should know there is no such thing as a private conversation here. Did Buckland hurt your hand?”
“No, just the bruise on my wrist.”
“You’re going to press charges in case you need a TRO against this sonofabitch.”
She knew he was right. “All right. So if you know about Trina and Buckland, you also know Dr. Pierce was here.”
He winced at that. “I’m sorry. I tried to keep you out of it. I should have known Carleton wouldn’t let it ride. He thought he could help you. I was going to tell you about him and let you make the decision, but I guess that’s water under the bridge now.”
“I guess so. He could be right. He might be able to help me.”
“But?”
She moved her shoulders. “I’m not comfortable with that kind of help.” She turned away from him, kneeling back down by the beer box, discomfited when he crouched beside her. He was big and warm and she wanted him to kiss her again far too much. “No other victims, right? I was worried when I saw you that you’d found another.”
“No. No more victims that I know of.”
“Good. I’ve got to do inventory before my ride comes. Go get some rest.”
“Eve.” She didn’t look up so he gently grasped her chin and forced her to look at him. “Your ride is right here. Leave that till tomorrow. I’ll take you home.” His mouth bent in an awkward smile she wished she didn’t find so endearing. “Hunter drove up when I did. He had a crowd in his truck. Looked like an entire college basketball team.”
“He and Tom must have found a pickup game somewhere. Tom’s his nephew. He’s a home team star,” she added, unashamed of the unabashed pride in her voice.
“Tom Hunter. I’ve seen him play. The kid is really good. You know him?”
Eve’s brows lifted at his hopeful tone. “You want me to get you tickets, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t say no.” He smiled when she chuckled. “Really, how do you know him?”
She sobered. “Yesterday you asked why that man tried to kill me six years ago.”
His smile disappeared. “You said he wanted to get to his wife and son. Oh.” He’d made the connection, she could see. “Tom was his son.”
“Yes. Tom and I both lived in the same shelter for a while, so we kind of grew up together. After Tom’s father was caught, his mother ended up marrying David’s brother. The Hunters are family. Tom’s the reason I picked Minneapolis.”
His dark brows crunched slightly. “You picked it?”
“I’d finally decided I couldn’t stay in Chicago. I had a quarter in my hand and a map on the table. Heads Carolina, tails California. Then the phone rang. Tom had just been offered a basketball scholarship here in Minneapolis. So I decided to come with him.”
“Then I’m even happier he’s there,” he murmured, meeting her eyes directly.
Flustered, she looked back into her box. “Where is David?”
“He said he had to drive the guys back to their dorm, but he didn’t want you to have to wait so he said they’d have to squeeze you in. I told him I’d take you home.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a plastic bag. “Peace offering.”
“I seem to be getting a lot of these tonight.” She peeked inside. “A deadbolt?”
He frowned slightly. “CSU didn’t find your keys. Somebody could have picked them up. I’ll change your lock for you.”
Eve was suddenly cold. “I didn’t leave my door unlocked yesterday, did I?”
His eyes flickered and she knew he agreed. “I don’t know, but I’d rather be careful.”
“Buckland was at the scene last night. He took pictures of my car.”
Noah’s eyes narrowed. “You think he has your keys?”
“It’s possible, isn’t it?”
His lips thinned. “Probable even.” Then he stood and pulled her to her feet, his eyes dangerous. “Let me take you home. I’ll replace your lock before I leave.”
Wednesday, February 24, 12:15 a.m.
Eve’s cell phone vibrated on the arm of her stuffed chair. It was David, which meant he was at her front door. She’d called to tell him that Noah changed the lock, resulting in a string of harsh profanity toward Buckland. She opened the door. “Sshh,” she cautioned.
She waved him to follow her to the kitchen, tiptoeing past Noah, who sat sprawled on her sofa. “He fell asleep,” she whispered. “I fixed him something to eat while he replaced the deadbolt, but he was out cold. I think he’s just exhausted.”
“He must be, to have fallen asleep on that thing. I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”
“Go sleep in my bed. I’ll take the sofa when he wakes up and goes home.”
“Sleep in your own bed.” He held open the shopping bag. “Blow-up mattress.”
She shook her head. “It’ll make too much noise when you inflate it. You’ll wake him up.”
“He can’t have been asleep that long. Wake him up and send him home.”
It would be the logical thing to do. But she shook her head again. “Let him sleep. You take my bed.” In the living room, Noah hadn’t budged an inch. He’d taken off his overcoat and suit coat to replace her lock, but still wore his shoes, his tie. And his gun.
He’ll get a crick in his neck sprawled like that. She tugged on his feet, staggering under the weight of his long legs as she lifted them to the sofa. If he woke, so be it. But he didn’t, not even when she took off his shoes and loosened his tie.
She should move, but stayed crouched at his side, looking into his face. Her eyes dropped to his mouth. She’d kissed that mouth. In the Deli she’d told herself it was for his job. Damage control. But she’d wanted to kiss him. She’d wanted to for months.
She relived that moment in the bar when he’d kissed her for himself. She’d wanted him to do it again, but he hadn’t. He’d brought her home and kept his hands to himself. She looked at his hands, wondered how they’d feel, cruising over her skin.