Page 140 of The Last Close Call

He stopped on the sidewalk and took off his jacket, then draped it over her shoulders.

“You don’t need to—”

He kissed her and cut her off. Then he wrapped his arms around her.

“Thanks for waiting,” he said.

She stared up at him with those deep blue eyes, and he realized he hadn’t held her like this in days. It felt good, so good it worried him.

“Are you really done for the night?” she asked.

“I’m done. Let me take you home.”

***

By home, Jack meant his place, and Rowan talked herself out of all her reservations as she took him up on his offer to make herself comfortable. She borrowed his shower, and when she emerged from the bedroom clean and once again wearing a borrowed T-shirt, she discovered he’d made a fire in the fireplace.

Now she stretched out on the sofa under a fleece blanket, staring at the flames as his hand stroked over her hip. Their first time together had been fast and desperate, but tonight was slow and sensual.

He glided his hand down her side and kissed the back of her neck.

“You smell good,” he murmured.

She looked at him over her shoulder. “It’s your shampoo.”

“Not that. You.” His mouth moved down her neck as his hand slid between her thighs.

She rolled over and stared up at him. His skin looked gold in the firelight, and she reached up to trace his jaw.

“You never told me about this, either,” she said, running her fingertip over the swollen bruise.

Jack gazed down at her, and she braced herself for something evasive.

“He resisted arrest,” he said.

“Will Anderson?”

He nodded. “We followed him from his house. He was prowling around someone’s backyard, opening gates, unlocking things. I think it was a dry run.”

A chill moved through her, and she shuddered. “God. It’s so lucky you were there.”

“It ended up being a foot pursuit. I tackled him in the woods, and he landed a punch.”

“But you got him under control?”

“With Bryan’s help, yeah. He’s a big guy. It took two of us.”

Rowan watched him, picturing the scene. She hadn’t expected so much detail. Usually, Jack was very tight-lipped about his work.

He propped his weight on his elbow and looked down at her. “Now can I ask you something?”

She tensed. She had a feeling she knew what he was going to ask.

He stroked his finger over her collarbone. “What happened the other morning?”

She didn’t respond.

“Don’t say ‘nothing.’ ” He gave her a sharp look. “You were almost in tears. I’ve been trying to figure out what I did—”

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