Something About You
Page 41
Right.
Time to go.
She climbed off the bike as quickly as she could in her dress and heels. Jack had parked the motorcycle next to the curb, and the added inches made it easier for her to get down. With an efficient nod, she said her good-bye. “Thanks for the ride. Good night.” She turned and headed toward her front gate.
“Hold on—I need to check out your house.”
She stopped, having forgotten about that. “Well, let’s hurry up, then,” she said over her shoulder. She got to the gate and reached for the handle when his hand came down over hers.
“Anxious to get rid of me, are you?” he asked.
Cameron turned around. “Yes.”
Jack paused, as if seeing something he hadn’t expected. He took a step toward her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Uh-oh . . . trouble.
She tried to play it off. “Like what?” She opened the gate and backed toward the front steps.
Jack continued to advance on her. “Like that.”
Cameron put her hand on the stone ledge and slowly climbed up the stairs. “You’re imagining things.”
He shook his head slowly. “No.”
“I must’ve gotten worked up from my first motorcycle ride,” she lied. And possibly from thinking about riding something else, too.
Shameless.
Jack clenched his jaw. “Christ, Cameron.” As he backed her toward the door, his expression was part angry, part . . . wow—something else entirely. “What the hell am I supposed to do when you look at me like that?”
“Ignore it. Stay focused on the fact that you hate me.”
“I’m trying. I’m really trying here.”
He had her trapped against the door. Cameron wondered if he could hear the pounding of her heart, it was beating so fast.
Jack put his hand on her hip. Such a simple touch, but Cameron’s breath caught nevertheless. With her back pressed against the door, the only movement of her body came from her chest, her breathing short and quick in anticipation.
Jack’s gaze fell on her parted lips. He slid his other hand to her nape and tilted her head, pinning her with dark eyes so hot she felt the burn in her stomach.
She knew she could push him away if she wanted to.
She didn’t want to.
His gaze softened. “Cameron,” he said huskily, and she felt as though she melted right there. Knowing what he was about to do, she closed her eyes and felt his lips brush lightly against hers right before he—
Stopped.
Blinking in confusion, Cameron watched as Jack pulled back.
“We’ve got company,” he said in a thick voice.
She looked over his shoulder and saw a familiar unmarked car parked on the street in front of her house. Phelps and Kamin.
“When did they get here?” she asked.
“Just now. I heard the car pull up.” Jack gestured to her door. “Do you have your keys?”
She nodded, trying to clear her head. “In my purse.” She pulled the keys out and unlocked the door.
Jack moved past her and stepped inside. “Stay in the doorway, where Kamin and Phelps can see you.” Then he went to search her house.
Cameron stood there and waited, trying to process what had happened between her and Jack. Her mind was quickly coming to terms with the fact that she’d almost just made a very big mistake, although her body seemed not as willing to accept this as fact.
Get a grip, she told herself as Jack came down the stairs from the second floor.
“All clear,” he said as he approached.
Cameron stepped out of the doorway, knowing that physical distance was her best defense against him right then.
Jack noticed her quick retreat. “Don’t forget to lock the door behind me,” he said tersely.
He walked out the door.
JACK HURRIED DOWN the steps, trying to figure out when, exactly, he had become such an idiot.
He’d almost kissed her. And if Phelps and Kamin hadn’t pulled up when they had, he would have.
Clearly, a bad idea. On this, at least, they seemed to agree.
He’d been momentarily caught off guard by that look she’d given him when she’d gotten off the bike—whatever the hell that had been—but now he was focused once again. She was his witness. More important, she was Cameron Lynde, and that meant hands off. The last time he’d gotten too close to her, he’d gotten burned. Big time. Not something he wanted to go through again.
He liked being back in Chicago. Being a solitary person, he didn’t have a ton of friends, but his younger sister and two-year-old nephew lived close to the city. He planned to stay in Chicago for good this time, and that meant no screw ups, particularly in cases where Cameron was involved.
Jack walked the perimeter of the house and confirmed that all the windows and doors were secure. When he finished, he closed the front gate and headed over to the unmarked car parked at the curb. He had no idea how much Kamin and Phelps had seen, but they weren’t smirking or gawking as he walked up, so he took that as a good sign.
The window of the passenger side unrolled as he walked up. Jack knew he was in trouble as soon as he saw the older cop’s expression.
Kamin grinned approvingly. “So that’s why you wanted to drive her home from the restaurant.”
Phelps leaned across the seat. “Does this mean she’s not going to the wedding with Max-the-investment-banker?”
So much for hoping they hadn’t seen anything.
Twelve
Time to go.
She climbed off the bike as quickly as she could in her dress and heels. Jack had parked the motorcycle next to the curb, and the added inches made it easier for her to get down. With an efficient nod, she said her good-bye. “Thanks for the ride. Good night.” She turned and headed toward her front gate.
“Hold on—I need to check out your house.”
She stopped, having forgotten about that. “Well, let’s hurry up, then,” she said over her shoulder. She got to the gate and reached for the handle when his hand came down over hers.
“Anxious to get rid of me, are you?” he asked.
Cameron turned around. “Yes.”
Jack paused, as if seeing something he hadn’t expected. He took a step toward her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Uh-oh . . . trouble.
She tried to play it off. “Like what?” She opened the gate and backed toward the front steps.
Jack continued to advance on her. “Like that.”
Cameron put her hand on the stone ledge and slowly climbed up the stairs. “You’re imagining things.”
He shook his head slowly. “No.”
“I must’ve gotten worked up from my first motorcycle ride,” she lied. And possibly from thinking about riding something else, too.
Shameless.
Jack clenched his jaw. “Christ, Cameron.” As he backed her toward the door, his expression was part angry, part . . . wow—something else entirely. “What the hell am I supposed to do when you look at me like that?”
“Ignore it. Stay focused on the fact that you hate me.”
“I’m trying. I’m really trying here.”
He had her trapped against the door. Cameron wondered if he could hear the pounding of her heart, it was beating so fast.
Jack put his hand on her hip. Such a simple touch, but Cameron’s breath caught nevertheless. With her back pressed against the door, the only movement of her body came from her chest, her breathing short and quick in anticipation.
Jack’s gaze fell on her parted lips. He slid his other hand to her nape and tilted her head, pinning her with dark eyes so hot she felt the burn in her stomach.
She knew she could push him away if she wanted to.
She didn’t want to.
His gaze softened. “Cameron,” he said huskily, and she felt as though she melted right there. Knowing what he was about to do, she closed her eyes and felt his lips brush lightly against hers right before he—
Stopped.
Blinking in confusion, Cameron watched as Jack pulled back.
“We’ve got company,” he said in a thick voice.
She looked over his shoulder and saw a familiar unmarked car parked on the street in front of her house. Phelps and Kamin.
“When did they get here?” she asked.
“Just now. I heard the car pull up.” Jack gestured to her door. “Do you have your keys?”
She nodded, trying to clear her head. “In my purse.” She pulled the keys out and unlocked the door.
Jack moved past her and stepped inside. “Stay in the doorway, where Kamin and Phelps can see you.” Then he went to search her house.
Cameron stood there and waited, trying to process what had happened between her and Jack. Her mind was quickly coming to terms with the fact that she’d almost just made a very big mistake, although her body seemed not as willing to accept this as fact.
Get a grip, she told herself as Jack came down the stairs from the second floor.
“All clear,” he said as he approached.
Cameron stepped out of the doorway, knowing that physical distance was her best defense against him right then.
Jack noticed her quick retreat. “Don’t forget to lock the door behind me,” he said tersely.
He walked out the door.
JACK HURRIED DOWN the steps, trying to figure out when, exactly, he had become such an idiot.
He’d almost kissed her. And if Phelps and Kamin hadn’t pulled up when they had, he would have.
Clearly, a bad idea. On this, at least, they seemed to agree.
He’d been momentarily caught off guard by that look she’d given him when she’d gotten off the bike—whatever the hell that had been—but now he was focused once again. She was his witness. More important, she was Cameron Lynde, and that meant hands off. The last time he’d gotten too close to her, he’d gotten burned. Big time. Not something he wanted to go through again.
He liked being back in Chicago. Being a solitary person, he didn’t have a ton of friends, but his younger sister and two-year-old nephew lived close to the city. He planned to stay in Chicago for good this time, and that meant no screw ups, particularly in cases where Cameron was involved.
Jack walked the perimeter of the house and confirmed that all the windows and doors were secure. When he finished, he closed the front gate and headed over to the unmarked car parked at the curb. He had no idea how much Kamin and Phelps had seen, but they weren’t smirking or gawking as he walked up, so he took that as a good sign.
The window of the passenger side unrolled as he walked up. Jack knew he was in trouble as soon as he saw the older cop’s expression.
Kamin grinned approvingly. “So that’s why you wanted to drive her home from the restaurant.”
Phelps leaned across the seat. “Does this mean she’s not going to the wedding with Max-the-investment-banker?”
So much for hoping they hadn’t seen anything.
Twelve
