Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [86]
“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry.” She looked at his knees and he felt uncomfortable but not surprised. She was a cop, trained to observe. He didn’t want her to know how much pain he was in, didn’t want her to think that it impacted his job. By tomorrow morning after a few Motrin he’d be good as new. He just over-did it today. He wasn’t used to twenty-hour days anymore.
“I’m fine,” he said, too sharply. To compensate, he reached over and kissed her lightly on the lips. Damn, she tasted so good. He kissed her again.
He touched her beautiful face, the slender lines and thick lips, naturally red from their hot kisses. He wanted her. But not now, not like this. Not in a car, not when he couldn’t carry her up the stairs.
“Good night, Carina.”
It took every ounce of strength to get out of the car without his knees buckling and crumbling to the driveway. He stood next to the car, unable to walk away.
Carina stared at him through the windshield, thinking. Don’t think too hard, Carina. He didn’t want her pity, he didn’t want her sympathy. He just wanted her to leave so he could take care of himself, so he’d be ready tomorrow morning for the autopsy of another young woman who didn’t deserve her fate.
Finally, she started the engine and backed up. She stopped the car, rolled down the window. “Dream of me tonight, Nick.”
She drove off. He watched the car until it reached the end of the tree-lined street. He expected it to turn the corner; instead, she pulled into the driveway of the corner house. The garage door went up and she pulled in.
She lived really close to her parents.
The garage door closed behind the car and Nick released his breath, not realizing he’d been holding it.
Damn. Even now, nearly a year later, the Butcher had left a permanent mark on Nick.
His knees were so shot he didn’t think he’d make it up the stairs. He almost hadn’t made it out of Carina’s car, and he was grateful she hadn’t said anything.
He’d taken the ibuprofen back at Jodi’s apartment, but it had done nothing to help the pain. Worse, he’d forced himself to stand longer than he should, not wanting to show any weakness in front of the San Diego Police Department or Carina. Especially Carina.
He dry-swallowed two more pills and shuffled over to the stairs leading to the apartment, then sat on the bottom step. A light above the apartment door illuminated the stairs.
Something about Carina . . . it drew him in like no woman had done before. She intrigued him. Pretty, certainly, and sexy, but it was more than her looks: there was a sharp brain and deep confidence. Like so many people in the world, she’d suffered tragedy, but her strength and natural optimism gave her the ability to persevere and create something much, much better with her life. Her drive to be a good cop, a great cop, was alluring. Almost as sexy as the way she put her hand on her hip, subtly, unconsciously, drawing attention to her oh-so-feminine curves.
He closed his eyes and wondered what would happen between him and Carina if he didn’t have so much baggage. He liked the way she thought, the way she looked, the way she loved her parents and respected her family. She’d kissed him, not a tentative, uncertain kiss, but a fierce and confident embrace that told him she wouldn’t be a shrinking violet in bed. She would give as good as she got.
He wanted her in his bed. Her bed. He would have taken her in the car, and knew she’d be more than willing if, perhaps, they weren’t sitting in her parents’ driveway.
More than anything, he appreciated her straightforward manner, the fact that she said what she thought and didn’t agonize over every decision she made.
He realized that’s exactly what he’d been doing back home in Montana. Agonizing over whether to be sheriff or give it up. Not because he wasn’t a good cop, but because he didn’t know if he wanted it anymore. The only person his bad decision had affected last year in the Butcher investigation was himself. It could have been worse. Someone could have been killed because he’d acted the maverick.
Still, being