Snapped (21 page)

That plan had been obliterated.

Now Sophie wasn’t just involved in this thing, she was a witness. And now she wasn’t just
a
witness, she was
the
witness—the only one who mattered. If he cared anything about his job, she was off-limits.

The badge can get you tail, but tail can get your badge
. The advice he’d heard during his first year on the job came back to him. He hadn’t fully understood it then, but he understood it now. When it came to witnesses and confidential informants and especially crime victims, the badge inspired trust, sometimes even lust. And while that sounded good, it could mean a shitload of problems if a man wasn’t careful.

His whole career, Jonah had never been anything
but
careful. Until he’d met Sophie.

Jonah finally reached his neighborhood and turned onto his street. He slowed as he neared his house, where a subcompact car was just pulling up from the opposite direction. The car had a glowing delivery sign on top.

Jonah pulled into his driveway, grabbed his duffel, and climbed out. The aroma of fresh pizza nearly knocked
him over. He glanced at his house, where a Tv was on in the living room. He glanced at his closed garage door and got a sneaking suspicion about what was behind it.

“This for you?” A skinny kid with about ten rings in his eyebrow came up to him.

“What is it?”

“veggie Supreme.”

Sighing, Jonah reached for his wallet. He handed the kid a couple twenties and waited for some change, all the while staring at his front door. Finally, it swung open, and Sophie stood there, perfectly silhouetted in the light from his living room. She wore a tank top and cutoffs, but it might as well have been a G-string, because backlit like that, she looked like every X-rated fantasy he’d ever had—in the flesh. Standing in his doorway, waiting to welcome him home from a business trip. It was a dream come true and a goddamn nightmare, all at the same time.

The kid made a strangled sound in his throat, and Jonah looked at him. His jaw had practically hit the sidewalk. Jonah jerked the change from his hand and scowled at him.

“Well,
hello
.” Sophie tipped her head to the side and smiled as Jonah collected the pizza box from the dazed delivery boy. “I didn’t expect you home so early.”

He hiked up the steps to his door and glared down at her. She didn’t even flinch.

“What are you doing here?”

She took the warm box from him and gave him a sultry smile. “It’s a
really
long story. Come in and I’ll tell you.”

Jonah seemed tense. Not just tense, he seemed … bitter about something. Sophie had hoped two days would have been enough time for him to work through his anger over her television appearance, but evidently not. Maybe he was one of those macho guys who didn’t “work through” their emotions, but instead let them stew.

He looked good, though. Instead of his typical detective garb, he wore faded jeans, a gray T-shirt, and a two-day beard.

She carried the pizza into the kitchen and put it on the counter, then remembered the bread sticks and let out a gasp. She spun around and raced back out the door.

But the hatchback’s taillights were already fading down the street.

She returned to the kitchen, where Jonah was leaning back against the counter, watching her coldly.

“Well, no bread sticks,” she chirped. “But that’s probably for the best, right? Who needs garlic breath?”

He folded his arms over his chest, clearly not amused by her attempt to lighten the mood.

“What’s going on, Sophie?”

“Well.” She walked over to the cabinet and got down several plates as she stalled for time. She’d had her speech all planned out, but she hadn’t counted on quite this level of hostility. “Before you left, you told me to keep a low profile. And to stay out of trouble.” She picked up a slice of pizza and tore a few strands of cheese before setting it on his plate. Then she smiled up at him. “I was having a hard time doing that at my apartment, so I decided to crash here.”

She handed him a plate, and he put it on the counter without looking at it.

“How’d you get in?”

“Your Hide-a-Key.”

He frowned.

“Magnetic box behind the gutter near the back door.” She smiled. “I’ve always been a champ at finding them, but I would have expected a better hiding place from a cop.”

Jonah shook his head and looked away.

She served herself a slice. “Don’t you like pizza?”

“That’s not pizza, that’s salad.”

“Extra veggies. Yum.” She chomped into her slice and chewed, watching him. He practically radiated stress. Must have been a long drive.

Sophie put her food aside and fetched a vitamin Water from the fridge. She offered him one, but he refused. Obviously, her beverage choices were lacking, too.

“Is the media camped out at your apartment?” he asked. “Is that what this is?”

She tipped her head to the side. “I’m not sure. Not last time I looked.”

“And when was that?”

“Yesterday.”

“You’ve been here since yesterday?”

He seemed angry, and she felt a tug of doubt. Maybe she’d picked the wrong tactic. She could have just called him up and asked his permission to stay here, but she’d been afraid he’d say no.

“I figured you wouldn’t mind.” She smiled up at him. “You
did
tell me to keep a low profile.”

He looked away, shook his head again. On an impulse, she eased closer, but that seemed to ratchet up his tension another notch. The muscles in his jaw hardened.

“Why are you so upset?” she asked.

“Why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not.”

“Okay, have it your way. But you can’t stay here.”

“How come?”

“Because you can’t. End of story.”

“But—”

“Call Mia if you need a place to crash.”

She crossed her arms. “Ric’s living there. And you’re the one who told me he thinks I’m full of crap, so I don’t exactly feel comfortable hanging out with them.”

“Then go to a motel.”

“Our motels are full of news people.”

“Then call Mark.”

“Who?”

“Mark Royers.” He glared at her. “Your date from the other night. I’m sure he’d be glad to put you up.”

“I hardly know Mark. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“Sophie,
we
don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“I’ll be out by tomorrow. It’s only for a night. What’s the big deal?”

“It’s my career, Sophie.
That’s
the big deal. I’m a homicide detective. You’re a witness. I can’t just have you shacked up at my house.”

“Why are you being so uptight? All I’m asking for is a place to stay. For one
night
!” She felt her cheeks flush as his rejection sank in. “God, just … forget it. I’ll stay somewhere else.” She stalked out of the kitchen, and he grabbed her arm. “Let
go
of me!”

“No.”

“No?”
She tried to shake off his grip, but it was like an iron cuff.

“Not until you give me an honest answer.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You think I’m buying this little act?” he demanded. “‘Oh, hey, Jonah, didn’t expect you home so early’? You’re wearing a red lace bra, Sophie. And you didn’t expect me?”

Fury bubbled up. “Screw you.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

She hauled back to hit him, but he caught her hand. She tried with the other one, and he caught that, too. He scowled down at her, both of her hands clamped in his huge mitts, and frustration burned in her throat.

“Cut the bullshit, Sophie, and tell me what happened.”

“Let
go
of me!” She jerked away from him, and this time he released her. She retreated to the corner between the stove and the sink, and tried to incinerate him with a look.

He just watched her.

“I got mugged, okay? And I’m terrified of my
apartment. And I’m terrified of everything. And so I came
here
. Are you happy now?” Her shrill words hung in the air, and she felt like a child.

Jonah stepped closer, his brow furrowed. “When did this happen?”

She looked down at her feet and tried to compose herself. “Yesterday.”

“Are you hurt?”

He reached a hand to her face, but she backed away. She didn’t want to be touched, and he seemed to get the message.

She took a deep breath. “I was doing laundry. I went down the street to get detergent—”

“At
night
?”

Her gaze snapped up. “Do you want to hear this or not?”

He tucked his hands in his pockets. “I want to hear it. All of it. Don’t leave anything out.”

And so she told him, glossing over the part where she was still talking on her cell phone when she walked out of the store. But he caught it, anyway—she could tell from the way his jaw tightened. When she reached the end, he was watching her, his face hard and unhappy.

He stayed like that for a long moment, and then he stepped forward. “Can I touch you now?”

She shrugged.

Gently, he took her face in his hands and seemed to be examining her for bruises. She stared at his chest as he checked her head. Her pulse picked up. She wanted to lean into him and wrap her arms around his waist and feel safe.

His thumb grazed over the goose egg just behind her hairline.

“Ouch.” She pulled away.

“You could have a concussion. You should have let Allison take you to the ER.”

“I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “But it freaked me out. Combined with everything else, I just—” She turned away. She looked at his clean, spare kitchen. At the fridge he kept stocked with beer and salsa. At the back door where he left his muddy work boots. Then she faced him again and looked at his hazel eyes, which were gazing down at her now with so much intensity, so much intelligence. “It seems connected somehow. Don’t ask me why I think that, but I do. I can’t explain it—it’s just a hunch. And I feel safer here than I do anywhere else. Even when you’re not here, I feel safer. Last night I got a better night’s sleep than I have in months.”

“Why the ambush, Sophie? You should have just called me.”

“And you would have said, ‘Sure thing, babe, come on over’?”

He didn’t answer.

“I figured there might be some rules,” she said, “or, I don’t know, at least guidelines about us having a personal relationship because I’m involved in your case.” She paused, trying to read his face. “I’m not reading this wrong, am I? I’m guessing there was some kind of break while you were in Georgia because you’ve been gone two full days. And you just said I’m a witness, so—”

“I can’t discuss the investigation.”

Which answered her question.

“Anyway, I figure your letting me stay here is kind of a favor,” she continued, “and I’ve always had better luck asking for favors in person than over the phone.”

He just looked at her. She noticed the bra strap peeking out and tugged at the neck of her T-shirt.

He didn’t miss that, either. And then she felt ashamed of herself for assuming he was like every other man she’d ever known, for assuming if he helped her, he’d want something in return.

But then again, maybe he did. There was no mistaking the heat in his eyes, underneath all that genuine concern. She’d seen it before, and she knew exactly what it meant.

She crossed her arms and gazed up at him defiantly. “So that’s it. That’s why I’m here. Are you going to let me stay or not?”

Jonah looked at Sophie standing just inches away from him in his kitchen and knew that he was well and truly fucked. There was no way he could turn her out after what she’d told him. It simply wasn’t happening. He didn’t like her getting mugged, period, and he sure as hell didn’t like it occurring at the same time as all this other stuff. Jonah didn’t know what exactly was going on, but until he figured it out, he wanted her here with him, even though there was no way he could let himself touch her—especially not after calling bullshit on her little seduction scheme.

Did she think he was like that? did she really think he’d expect sex just for giving her a place to stay for a few nights?

Evidently, she did. And while part of him knew he had way more self-discipline, way more
decency
than that, a whole other part of him was at this very moment picturing her on her back on his kitchen table, wearing nothing but that damn red bra.

Maybe
he
was the head case.

“You can stay here tonight,” he said. “Then we’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, clearly relieved. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

That blatant falsehood was still hovering over them as Jonah’s phone buzzed. He took it out and checked the number.

“This is work,” he told her. “I probably have to go in.”

“No biggie. I’ll lock up after you.”

The phone buzzed again.

“Macon.” He listened for a few moments, while Sophie stood there, pretending not to eavesdrop. She’d painted her toenails, he noticed—cherry red.