He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not (20 page)

She would probably be furious in the morning when she discovered him in bed with her, but if he heard one more of those blood-curdling screams,
he’d
be the one having nightmares.

When she wiggled her bottom against his groin, he gritted his teeth. It was going to be a long night.

T
he smell of bacon had Amanda hopping out of bed and rushing through her shower the next morning. She couldn’t imagine Karen cooking breakfast, but her nose told her otherwise.

After last night’s grueling interview, she didn’t relish the idea of being alone to relive the vivid memories that were already swirling through her mind this morning. So even though she wasn’t particularly hungry and wasn’t much of a breakfast person, she hurried through her morning routine.

Glancing at the clock before she left the bedroom, she was glad to see it was after eight. Logan would have left for the office a few hours ago, giving her time to gather her defenses before she saw him again. She didn’t know how she would face him, what she would say, and she needed time to think about it.

He’d seemed so concerned about her last night, tucking her into bed, staying with her until she fell asleep. She had vague impressions of nightmares but she hadn’t woken herself up screaming like she usually did when those disturbing dreams haunted her. She’d slept the best she could remember in a long time.

As she descended the last step, she called out, “Karen, you should have waited. I could have helped you cook.” She walked into the kitchen and came to an abrupt halt when she saw who was standing in front of the stove.

Logan turned around and even though Amanda’s stomach flipped as she realized she’d have to face him earlier than she’d hoped, she couldn’t help but smile at his ensemble.

He was immaculately dressed, as usual, in perfectly pleated navy blue pants, shiny black shoes, a light blue dress-shirt tucked into his waistband and the ever present gun holstered beneath his left arm.

But he’d rolled up his sleeves and instead of the suit jacket he normally wore he had a white towel hanging from his waist from hip to hip, apparently his homemade version of an apron to keep the grease from splattering his clothes.

Returning her smile, he used a pair of tongs to lift out several slices of burned bacon and laid them on a plate. Not a napkin or paper towel in sight to absorb all that grease. Honestly, she didn’t know how men survived their own cooking.

“I hope you like bacon and eggs,” he said as he turned off the stove and set the pan on a cool area of the glass top stove. “I have biscuits, too.”

“Sounds wonderful,” she lied, as she suppressed a shudder at the thought of all that fat. A bagel was her usual fare, but he looked so awkward she’d bet he almost never cooked. He certainly hadn’t cooked since she’d started living here, but she’d assumed that was because he usually got home so late. The fact that he’d cooked for her this morning made her determined to eat whatever he’d made and to pretend she loved it, regardless of how fatty or burned it was.

“Breakfast is the only meal I know how to cook,” he continued, confirming her earlier thought. “Well, besides cook-out.”

“Cook-out?” She smiled.

“Hamburgers, steak, ribs.”

“Ah. Man-food.”

He gave her a grin and placed a platter of eggs, bacon, and biscuits on the table. “I have coffee, but you prefer soda, right?”

Since he was already grabbing a soda from the refrigerator, she didn’t bother to answer. She nodded her thanks when he set it and his cup of coffee on the table.

“So, why aren’t you in the office?” she asked, hoping he hadn’t heard the nervous catch in her voice.

He stepped behind her, startling her until she realized he’d pulled out her chair so she could sit. His mama had taught him well. This wasn’t the first time she was the recipient of his ingrained southern manners.

Nodding her thanks, she sat and scooped some scrambled eggs onto her plate. Apparently Logan only knew how to cook breakfast one way, well done. The eggs were as dry as they could be without being brown.

Rather than sit in the chair across from her, he chose the one next to her. “I asked Karen to come over a couple of hours late today. I’ll go into work after she gets here.”

He hadn’t really answered her about why he wasn’t in the office, but she decided not to push him. She probably didn’t want to know his real reason for being home. She didn’t want to rehash last night’s events, and she fervently hoped he hadn’t stayed home to grill her with a few more questions about her abduction.

They sat and ate in companionable silence. Neither of them seemed anxious to fill the void with conversation, which was fine with her.

After forcing down the minimum amount of food she thought was necessary to make him feel like she appreciated his efforts, she set her fork on her plate and took a sip of her soda.

Logan put his fork down right after she did, as if he’d been waiting for her to finish. She glanced at his plate and only then realized he hadn’t eaten much more than her. Apparently he didn’t have an appetite this morning either.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay before I left for work,” he said. “I know last night was . . . difficult.”

Why couldn’t he let it drop? She took another sip of her drink.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Sighing, she set the can down. “I don’t know how I feel. You’ve kind of knocked me off balance.”

“What do you mean?”

She waved a hand at the food on the table. “Breakfast. You, here, being nice to me.”

He sat back with a lopsided smile. “I’m not supposed to be nice to you?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I think I do.” His face lost all signs of amusement. “You think because you survived some lunatic’s twisted sadistic game and your friend didn’t, that you’re somehow to blame. That’s bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

He pitched his napkin on the table and stood. “Let’s go for a walk. There’s something I want to show you.”

He stepped behind her chair to pull it out, not giving her a chance to argue.

They went out through the French doors, across the back deck, and stepped into another world. The grass was spongy and soft beneath Amanda’s sandals. The air as they neared the edge of the lawn was surprisingly comfortable in the shade of the towering pines and moss covered live oaks.

“It’s the creek,” Logan said, noticing her surprise. “It runs along the back of the property, cools the air. Beyond that is deep-water access to the Gulf, which sends even more breezes this way.” He reached out his hand. “Come on.”

She placed her hand in his and was rewarded with an affectionate squeeze of his fingers.

He pulled her behind him down a twisting path through the pines, a path she hadn’t noticed from the house.

“Are you sure you have time for this?” she asked, wondering how far they were going.

“I’m the boss. I’ll write myself a note,” he teased. “We’re almost there.”

The path ended abruptly at the edge of the creek Logan had mentioned. Amanda was walking so fast to try to keep up with his long strides that she couldn’t stop. She would have fallen into the creek if he hadn’t grabbed her.

Once he’d steadied her, instead of letting her go, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest.

She stiffened at first, then she relaxed against him, and his arms tightened around her. Delicious heat spiked through her as she breathed in his familiar scent, the same scent that clung to the comforter on her bed. It felt so right standing there with his arms around her.

“This is my private sanctuary,” he said, his voice pitched low as if they were in church. “It’s where I go when I need to think, or get away.”

The creek was no more than twenty feet wide but it had a strong current as evidenced by the little eddies and swiftly moving pine needles that blanketed its surface. It was dark, with the towering pines and oaks sheltering the glade, but that’s why it felt so cool and comfortable even in the midst of the hot Florida summer. Jasmine scented the air and a cooling breeze blew across the water.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, her voice as low and respectful as his was.

He took her hand and pulled her to the quaint wooden bench that sat in the middle of the clearing with a perfect view of the creek. He sat down and patted the bench beside him.

“Sit,” he ordered. When she hesitated, he added, “Please?” and gave her hand a gentle tug.

Shaking her head at his irresistible charm, she sat, her thigh pressed tightly against his in the narrow space. “How many women have you taken here to your cozy little retreat?”

“Just one. You.” He turned his intense gaze upon her.

Her breath caught at his whispered words. Unable to bear his scrutiny, she looked at the water, concentrating on the beauty of its motion as it rushed over the little rocks and branches that drooped down.

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked, barely able to get the words out past the tight constriction in her throat.

He sighed, the sound loud in the silence of the forest. “I should never have asked you to tell me about your abduction. I put you through torture. Gave you nightmares.”

“Nightmares?”

He glanced at her as if searching for something in her expression. “I heard you cry out.”

“Oh. Well, I do that sometimes, have nightmares. It drove my sister crazy.” After several minutes of silence, she said, “I’m not upset at you for last night. If you brought me here to apologize—”

“That’s not why I brought you here.”

“Then why did you?”

He raked his hand through his hair. “You bared your secrets to me last night, secrets that were difficult for you to talk about. I don’t take that lightly and I want to return the favor.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ask me anything you want, anything at all. I’ll answer as honestly as I can.”

She stared at him, surprised again at his generosity, how he put her needs above his at every turn. At first she thought she’d turn down his offer, let him off the hook, but there was one thing she wanted to know more about.

“What was the rookie mistake you said you made, the one that made you leave Shadow Falls and go to New York?”

His glance shot to hers. “Ouch. How did you know where to strike?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just that you told me at my house, about making mistakes, and regrets . . . so I was curious. Forget it, I shouldn’t have—”

“Hey.” He gently lifted her chin to look up at him. “A deal’s a deal.” He dropped his hand and sighed, looking out over the creek. He told her about a murder, a traffic stop, a split-second decision gone wrong.

“I screwed up,” he continued. “I made a bad decision that has haunted me ever since. And I knew the only way for me to move past it was to get better training, better experience than I was getting here. So I moved to New York City, took a job in the most violent precinct, traded my vacations for FBI courses at Quantico, did everything I could to make myself a better cop.”

“That sounds admirable.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s what I had to do. It was the least I could do. My mistake, no matter how small it might sound, had tragic consequences. A killer went free.” He clenched his fists against his thighs. “It’s something I have to live with, knowing if I’d taken two more minutes, followed my instincts, followed standard procedure, I could have stopped him. Who knows if he’s killed again, or hurt anyone else?”

“Thank you for telling me.” Amanda reached out her hand to hold his.

He looked at their entwined fingers resting on his thigh before turning the full wattage of his gaze on her. The pain was there, etched in lines around his mouth, but there was also a raw hunger in him that made her gasp in recognition as the same hunger burned through her. She looked at his mouth, leaned slightly forward.

His body tensed and he reached for her, but in spite of the heat in his eyes and the tension in his body, he was ever so gentle as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. He lowered his lips toward hers, slowly, as if to give her time to change her mind. She waited for the panic to come, but all she felt was the same raw hunger, the same answering need. She reached her arms up and wrapped them around his neck, pulling his lips down to hers.