About That Kiss Page 16

  She nodded eagerly.

  He didn’t buy it. “If I say move,” he told her, “you put it in high gear without question. You get the hell out of here and don’t look back. You got me?”

  She stopped nodding eagerly and changed to shaking her head. “I’m not going to leave you behind, Joe.”

  He looked down into her determined, fierce face and . . . felt his heart slowly roll over in his chest and expose its underbelly. “Yes, you will,” he said. “You’re going to have to trust me that I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” she repeated in that firm rhino-tone that told him he’d have better luck shifting the moon out of its orbit.

  He pulled her back into the shadows and did some recognizance, searching for cameras. There weren’t any so he moved back to the door and . . . found it unlocked.

  Kylie was right at his side. “That’s never good when it happens on TV,” she whispered.

  “Stick to me,” he said.

  She nodded earnestly, her red bangs in her eyes.

  “Like glue, Kylie.”

  She held up two fingers like she was making a Boy Scout oath, which cracked him up in spite of himself. He nudged the back door open and they looked into a very tiny kitchen. “Hello?” he called out, stepping inside—with Kylie right on his ass.

  No one answered.

  They moved to the interior door and found themselves in a hallway with several doors.

  “That one goes to the retail area,” he said, flicking his penlight directly in front of them. He opened that door and found . . . “Stained glass,” he said in surprise.

  The entire shop was stained glass. Doors, windows . . . everything was stained glass, including the furniture. This guy isn’t our guy.

  “It’s not him,” Kylie whispered just as he thought it. He started to tell her to turn around and go, but a sound came from behind them.

  Someone was coming in the back door.

  Adrenaline was second nature to Joe, but she had no training for this, no experience to get her through, and why would she? Criminal behavior wasn’t exactly a skill that normal people acquired.

  Oh my God, she mouthed to him, eyes wide.

  Only one thing went through his mind. She trusted him. She probably wouldn’t admit that, but she did. It was in the way she looked at him. It was in her kiss, and how she touched him. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was depending on him to keep her safe and there was no way in hell he was going to let her down. He opened one of the hallway doors to the left, hoping . . . Yes. A closet, although a very small one. He shoved Kylie into it ahead of him, followed her in and shut the door.

  The space was small and messy, lined in the back with boxes. Clothing hung haphazardly down over the top of them, leaving just enough room to stand up against each other. Considering what their limited options had been and the far worse situations he’d found himself in over the years given his career choice, he couldn’t have asked for much more.

  But Kylie was making small, panicked noises in her throat and that’s when he remembered—she was claustrophobic. “It’s okay,” he murmured, reaching for her. Not that he had far to reach.

  “It’s not okay!” she whispered. “I’m going to puke!”

  Chapter 17

  #ETPhoneHome

  Great, Kylie thought. She was in yet another tight space with Joe, in the dark, about to get caught for breaking and entering and go to jail, and she didn’t look good in orange jumpsuits.

  “Just breathe,” Joe whispered. “You’ve got this, Red.”

  What the hell did that mean, she had this? She so didn’t have this! “I’m not kidding about the puking,” she whispered. “And I’m not a pretty puker either.”

  “You’re not going to puke.”

  “Because it’ll give us away?” she whispered.

  “No, because these are new work boots I’m wearing and I like them. I’ve gotten them broken in just right.”

  She might’ve told him what she thought of his boots and where he could put them but since she was no longer speaking to him as of right this very moment, she settled for flipping him off. She then squeezed her eyes shut to concentrate on swallowing compulsively in order to keep the bile down. She’d had popcorn and wine for dinner à la Olivia Pope and that wasn’t going to be pleasant. Be cool, she told herself. You are not going to throw up on the hot guy. But it was difficult to control herself while simultaneously trying to hyperventilate. Dammit. Damn him.

  Except . . . this wasn’t Joe’s fault. She’d insisted on coming along. So damn her and her impulsiveness. And . . . dear God, were they running out of air in here? Yeah, they were. They were totally running out of air—

  “Hey,” Joe murmured softly, running his hands up and down her arms. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  “Yes, in a dark, teeny, tiny closet!” she hissed as panic gripped her, and oh perfect, now the walls were closing in on her as well.

  “Shh,” Joe breathed, holding her upright because apparently her legs were done working. She lifted her head to his and he set a finger against her lips.

  Yeah. She got it. Don’t make a sound. And preferably also don’t get sick . . . But seriously, the closet really was getting smaller by the second.

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Joe whispered, his lips brushing her earlobe and making her shiver.

  She really wanted to believe him, even tried to take solace in the fact that he hadn’t yet made any promises he hadn’t kept, but panic didn’t care about logic.

  “Good,” he whispered against her ear. “You’re doing great. Now I’m just going to—”

  She clutched at him as he started to shift away. “No,” she whispered.

  “I have to take a look, Kylie, but I’m not leaving you. I wouldn’t leave you behind either. Ever.”

  She met his gaze and nodded, and in the cramped space they had, he turned away from her to peek out the door.

  Unable to refrain, she plastered herself up against him and dropped her forehead to his back as she held her breath. Next time she was going to listen to logic and consider staying in the truck.

  Except she knew she wouldn’t. She knew that she’d choose the exact same thing again, which meant she had a lot more of her mother in her than she would’ve liked to admit.

  “Ok,” Joe whispered. “Don’t freak.”

  Oh, God. “Too late. What is it? What’s happening?”

  “Rafael’s here.”

  Oh shit. She’d not known Rafael real well. She remembered him as being in his forties and a terminal bachelor due to his curmudgeonly personality. Mostly he’d avoided her like the plague. At the time she’d thought maybe girls weren’t his thing, but it’d turned out that teenagers weren’t his thing.

  “Apparently he also lives here,” Joe murmured. “He just opened the door at the end of the hallway and it’s a converted bedroom.” He paused and she didn’t think it could be for anything good. “We’re going to have hang here for a bit,” he finally said.

  Nope, nothing good. She did love being right, but this one time she could’ve handled being oh-so-wrong. “How long is a bit?”

  “Until he leaves or goes to sleep.”

  “Oh my God.”

  Joe sent her a considering look over his shoulder, the picture of unflappable, impenetrable, tough, stoic male. He was always like that, which was a good thing because she was about to make a caffeinated squirrel look mellow.

  “Joe,” she said, her voice higher than usual as she worked hard at reining in her growing panic and keeping her voice down. “What if he finds us?

  “He won’t.”

  “But what if he does? What if we get caught?”

  “I don’t usually get caught.”

  She gripped the back of his shirt in two sweaty fists. “Usually?” she squeaked. “Usually? Oh my God.” Again she dropped her forehead to his back. She was starting to sweat in some very uncomfortable places.

  “Deep b
reaths, Kylie.”

  “I really hate it when people tell me that!”

  Reaching back, he hooked an arm around her, holding her close to him. “I need you to relax.”

  She let out a soundless half laugh, half sob. “Not my strong suit.”

  “Work on it, because it gets worse.”

  She lifted her head. “How? How can it possibly get worse?”

  He pulled her in front of him so she could see out the crack in the door, which was a relief. And hold up, there was an additional benefit as well, one that just might have the power to take her mind off the fact that she was going to die in this closet. Because now Joe was pressed up behind her, up close and personal.

  Very personal.

  Suddenly she couldn’t concentrate on the fact that she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but the feel of his big, strong body perfectly aligned with hers.

  Everywhere . . .

  He’d offered her a physical relationship. She knew that she shouldn’t be intrigued but she was because the idea worked for her. It really did. Even just thinking about it put her body on high, hopeful alert. Doing her best to shake that off, she peered out the crack. She could see down the hallway into a room. Raymond, aka Rafael, stood there looking much as she remembered. Still rounder than he was tall, but older. He was frowning at his TV.

  “He’s in for the night and—Shit.” He put a hand over her eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Protecting you,” he whispered. “Rafael just stripped down to his twig and berries. I’m seeing things that I do not need to see.”

  She grimaced at the mental visual. “Is he going to sleep?”

  “No, he’s sitting on edge of his bed flipping through TV channels like it’s his job. Luckily he’s also half deaf, given the decibels he has the volume up to.” Still behind her, he brushed his lips along the column of her throat. “I liked you as a blonde,” he murmured. “I liked you dark, too. But I really like the red. It matches your temperament.” Every word had his mouth brushing against her bare skin and she felt his laugh when she elbowed him in the gut, not that she could possibly hurt him.

  “I almost forgot I’m not speaking to you,” she said. But it was without a whole lot of heat because the feel of his mouth on her was making her shiver, and she learned something about herself that she hadn’t known. It turned out that she could feel only one overpowering sensation at a time. The terror and claustrophobia retreated enough to let in a wave of desire.

  Which meant she’d lost her ever-loving mind. “Are you coming on to me in a closet on a stakeout?” she whispered incredulously.

  “Do you want me to be?”

  Of course she wanted him to be. But she also wanted him to work for it. “Keep going,” she said, “and I’ll let you know.”

  There was a smile in his voice when he spoke, his mouth still at her ear. “Do you realize that every time I’ve tried to protect you, you’ve managed to hold your own? And damn if that’s not sexy as hell, Kylie.”

  With a rough laugh, she closed her eyes to concentrate on the feel of him and he pressed into her. “Joe.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s not going anywhere. I can think with two body parts at the same time.”

  Well, thank God one of them could.

  “Although,” he murmured, “the things I want to do to you in this closet . . .”

  She shivered and then gasped when he sank his teeth into her earlobe, tugging lightly, playfully.

  Only it didn’t feel playful. It felt like if she didn’t have him inside her soon she might expire on the spot. He must have felt the same because he whipped her around to face him and slid his fingers into her hair, tugging her face to his. When his mouth touched hers, all of it—Rafael, the pictures, her grandpa’s death, everything—disappeared in the heat the moment and they were back into the flames until it was to the point that they had to stop or go at it right there in the closet. She wasn’t sure about Joe but she wasn’t prepared to go there, so she pulled back. She felt him take a deep, shaky inhalation before very purposely letting it out again.

  They stood like that for a moment, thighs-to-thighs, chest-to-chest, and everything in between. And everything in between included some of her favorite parts, especially as he was hard. Everywhere.

  “What’s he doing now?” she asked.

  Joe took a look. “Lying on his bed, lights and TV still on—but his eyes are closed. I think he’s asleep.” He still waited a full five minutes, which she knew because she counted the seconds. “Stay at my back,” he said, “and don’t make a sound.” Keeping a tight hold on her hand, he led her silently out of the closet and out the back door into the night. Then they ran for his truck and took off.

  Joe usually drove like he did everything else—utterly calmly and in control. Not today. The set of his shoulders and the tightness of his mouth gave him away. Did he realize he was starting to show her the man beneath the cool, calm façade he showed everyone else? Or how thrilling that was? “You’re mad at how it went down,” she said into the tense silence of the vehicle’s interior.

  “I didn’t like you being in that situation because of me.”

  “I was in that situation because of me,” she corrected him. “But I did good.”

  A small smile crossed his lips. “You did great.”

  “Then what’s the matter?”

  Without taking his gaze off the road, he reached for her hand and brought her palm to his mouth. “Kylie, you did so good, I’m hard as a rock. I told you, watching you handle yourself gets me every time.”

  Their gazes met briefly and she felt the heat rise in her. Again. Heat, and a need. He kissed her palm once more and then, his hand still in hers, set it on his thigh. “I want to take you home,” he said.

  A thrill went through her at that. “Then do it. Take me home.”

  They didn’t talk after that. Just drove through the dark night with Joe seeming to go as fast as he could without killing them while simultaneously using every second of the ride to torture her with knowing touches. By the time he parked at an inviting-looking duplex in Inner Sunset, she was so worked up she could barely breathe.

  He turned off the engine and looked at her, and she could see that for as out of control she felt for wanting him, he felt the same. It was in the heat of his eyes, the tense lines of his gorgeous body, the way he touched and spoke to her. It all added up to a sense of need and hunger and desire, for her, the depths of which she’d never felt from another man.

  So much that the air seemed to crackle between them. She actually ached and if he so much as reached out and touched her, she was going to jump his bones right here in his truck. Yes, there was a little niggling in the back of her mind that she was getting too far gone over him, that she needed to hold herself back from going all in, but she ignored it because she couldn’t hold back. Not with him. But still, something of her brief hesitation must have shown on her face.

  “Say the word, Kylie, and I’ll take you back to your place.”

  She met his gaze, knowing her own was surprisingly steady. She wanted this. She needed this. “What word do I say if I want to go inside with you?” she asked. “Or want you inside me?”

  He had her out of his truck so fast her head was spinning as they practically ran up the walk. He was working his key into the lock when she pressed up against him, going up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, “What’s taking you so long?”

  He shoved the door open and within seconds had her inside, the door kicked closed, and her entire body pressed between his and the wall. Then his mouth was on hers, their tongues touched, and she moaned. She couldn’t help it. All the heated looks, the kisses, the lingering touches that they’d shared up to this point combined, multiplied exponentially, leaving her shaky with need and just about panting for him. A situation not improved as his fingers slid up her belly, finding their way beneath her shirt. As his lips made their way back to her mouth, he palmed her breast, hi
s thumb rasping across her nipple.

  “Joe.” As she was a puddle of need, it was still all she could get out, but he heard her, heard the obvious desperation behind the single word, because he groaned and pulled her tighter into the cradle of his thighs.