Razor's Edge Page 4

  Jack paid attention to her and the things she liked in ways she hadn’t fully appreciated until Steve was gone. The flowers he sent weekly were either calla lilies, stargazer lilies, or tulips—her favorites. How did he know that? Perhaps Steve mentioned it. But her favorite Luzianne chicory coffee, which had to be ordered? Or her favorite hand cream, Japanese Cherry Blossom Shea Cashmere, the smell of which was usually hidden by her perfume? Even Steve, the one person who’d known her better than anyone, couldn’t remember that.

  Maybe Jack’s attention to detail was just part of who he was and the job he did. After all, the U.S. Marshals Service was responsible for the Witness Security Program. Maybe the little things he remembered about her were things he’d pick up on anyone, part of the process of wiping a person’s identity and erasing identifying habits. But maybe something more personal was involved. She hoped so, because she’d started falling in love with him over those gifts and how they made her feel. After years of having everything she loved denigrated and belittled by her aunt until she didn’t enjoy anything at all, Jack had taught her to celebrate the things that made her happy.

  Smiling at the thought, she bent down and picked up after him, grabbing his clothes and taking them out to the hamper in the bedroom. It wasn’t a task she was particularly fond of usually, but she was beginning to think Jack could use a little looking after. Besides, he’d made the coffee. She was willing to trade quite a bit for the pleasure of waking up to freshly brewed coffee.

  “Would you totally gross out,” she asked, returning to the bathroom, “if I use your toothbrush?”

  “Go for it.”

  Rachel was rinsing her mouth out when Jack turned off the water in the shower. Straightening, she turned and faced him, determined to catch the view. The door slid open. A dripping wet and gorgeously naked Jack appeared, and she gave an appreciative whistle. He was perfectly sculpted from head to toe. And the package in the middle, impressive even while semi-erect, made her hot and needy. She could seriously get used to this.

  His mouth twitched with suppressed amusement as he reached for the towel hanging on the wall. He’d shaved and looked less rogue warrior and more GQ cover model. She loved both looks on him.

  “Wait.” She stepped closer, licking her lower lip.

  Jack’s eyes filled with a heat that made her flush. His arm dropped back to his side. “I’m all yours.”

  JACK held his position despite the seemingly endless insurgence.

  As if Rachel sensed his wariness, she’d brought him a beer earlier, hiding it from the multitude of underage eyes with an insulated bottle cozy. He didn’t touch it, knowing from experience that it was best to stay razor sharp when surrounded by unknowns.

  From the safety of the grill, he eyed the dozen or so eight-year-olds running around the patio of Rachel’s small two-story condominium. It was a madhouse, but he didn’t feel as out of place as he’d expected he would. That was certainly because of Rachel, who smiled at him often and made a point of including him.

  “Jack.”

  He turned his head and smiled down at Riley, who looked so much like his dad. Riley had the same smiling sloe eyes and cheerful grin, the same quick laugh and desire to help others. “Hey, sport. Having fun?”

  “Totally. I have a question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “My Aunt Stella says you like my mom.”

  He glanced at the picnic table, where most of the Tse family was gathered. “I do.”

  “Like her like a girlfriend. You know, kissing and stuff.”

  “Oh?” Jack focused on the burgers and hot dogs grilling in front of him.

  “She says guys only pay attention to what kind of coffee creamer a girl likes when she’s his girlfriend.”

  Not knowing how to reply, Jack just nodded slowly and shot another glance at Rachel. She was talking about him to the Tses. He hoped that was working in his favor.

  “So it’s true?” Riley pressed. “Is my mom your girlfriend?”

  “Uh . . .” Jack blew out his breath. “How would you feel about that? Is that bugging you?”

  “No. Will you be coming around more? I think you should come around more.”

  “I’m going to be working on that. I’d like to spend more time with you. There are some things your dad and I used to do together—fishing, golfing, taking some Sea-Doos out to Havasu . . . I think you’ll enjoy those same things.”

  “Sea-Doos?” Riley’s dark eyes lit up. “Really? That would be so cool!”

  “We’ll have to make plans, then.”

  Riley ran off, shouting at his friends, but skid to a halt a few feet away and came back. “Watch out for Aunt Stella,” he said in a stage whisper. “She says if mom doesn’t snatch you up, she will. She’s cool, but . . . well . . .”

  “Got it.” Jack somehow managed to keep his face impassive. “Thanks for the tip.”

  Watching his godson run off, Jack rocked back on his heels and felt hopeful. If the Tses were endorsing him, he had a chance in hell. He’d take it.

  His cell phone rang and his light mood sank like a stone. Pulling it out of his pocket, he answered, “Killigrew.”

  “Hey, Jack.” Gary Lancet’s grim voice was like a cold shower. “I’m sorry to interrupt you on leave, but I figured you’d kick my ass if you found out after you got back.”

  Jack set down the tongs he’d been using to turn the hot dogs. “What is it?”

  “One of Terry’s old collars went to his house. Fucked the place up and killed his dog. Callie’s a mess.”

  “Jesus. Are she and the kids okay?”

  “Yeah, they’re shaken up but fine. It’s a miracle they weren’t home at the time. Her damn radiator hose took a shit on the way back from picking them up from school. Otherwise . . . Well, it could have been a lot worse.”

  Looking at Rachel and the festive scene around him, Jack finally felt the sensation of being the odd man out. He should have felt it earlier. His life, such as it was, didn’t fit here. He’d forgotten that for a while. The grisly reminder was a timely one. He hadn’t yet laid his heart on the line; retracting it would have been a lot harder than just bailing early. “Am I needed?”

  “We’ve got it covered. I just knew you’d want to know.”

  “Absolutely. Tell Terry to call me if he needs anything. I still have some things to wrap up here, but nothing that can’t wait.”

  “I’ll keep you posted.”

  Jack hung up and stared at the phone for a long minute. Just imagining what Terry must be going through made his gut knot. Thinking about a close call like that happening to Rachel and Riley about doubled him over. Sweat beaded his forehead despite the coolness of the northern California weather. He rubbed at the tightness in the center of his chest. “Shit.”

  Rachel’s voice came from behind him. “Is everything all right?”

  He turned, grateful for the sunglasses shielding his eyes. “Something’s gone down back home.”

  “Oh.” She bit her lower lip. “Do you have to go?”

  Facing her disappointment only strengthened his resolve to stop being selfish. He had to think of her first. “Not yet.”

  Her chin lifted. “I’d understand if you had to go. Riley would, too.”

  “You shouldn’t have to understand.”

  One of her brows arched. “Really? Says who?”

  “Let’s not do this now.”

  “Later, then. Right after this is over.”

  It was already over. Not that it ever really had a chance to begin.

  RACHEL picked up the last bit of torn wrapping paper that had blown beneath the patio table and straightened. Her house was almost back to normal . . . except for the brooding deputy attacking her gas grill with a steel brush.

 
Jack had grown strangely quiet since taking that phone call a couple hours before. He managed smiles for Riley, who’d loved every one of the too-many gifts Jack had given him. Gifts that were craft sets or science projects or models. Things that were taught or built. Rachel took note of the fact that a man who worked with death and destruction was fostering a love of discovery and creation in her son. But Jack was unable to muster even a ghost of a smile for her. Instead, when their gazes met, he looked . . . ravaged.

  She shoved the trash in the garbage bag beside her and yanked on the handles to seal it. Then she approached Jack, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his lean waist. Even though he’d seen her coming, he tensed when her arms encircled him. She was grateful her mother-in-law and Stella had taken Riley to Target to spend his gift cards. It gave her the chance to get things straightened out with Jack.

  She slid her hands beneath the hem of his shirt and caressed his washboard abs. “Stella tells me I need to keep you around and exploit your mad grilling skills.”

  He set one hand over hers, stilling her movements. “Flipping burgers isn’t enough to fix my faults.”

  “Oh my God, you have faults? What a relief! I was beginning to think you were perfect.”

  Jack set the brush down and turned carefully to face her. “Rachel.”

  She pushed up his sunglasses to reveal his eyes. They were completely shuttered. “What was the phone call about?”

  “Nothing you should have to worry over.”

  “Bullshit. Whatever was said to you has you pulling back. Since I’m the one you’re pulling back from, I deserve to know why.”

  Exhaling harshly, he pulled off his sunglasses and hung them from the collar of his T-shirt. “One of the guys on the team had a scare today.”

  Rachel listened to his voice as he told her what happened. It was tight and clipped, his jaw taut. Someone he cared about—one of the very few—was hurting now and that was hurting Jack.

  “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Her fingers stroked soothingly across his nape. “The good, the bad, and the ugly. It helps to get it out.”

  “I don’t want you involved in stuff like this.”

  “I’m already involved.”

  “You don’t need this crap in your life,” he said harshly. “Riley doesn’t need it.”

  “We need you,” she retorted, “and you and the job are a package deal.”

  “You’ve got me.” His dark gaze was stormy. “I’ll always be here for you, just as I’ve always been. We just need to keep things simple.”

  That was ridiculous. What they had was totally complicated. He was complicated, and he was used to keeping his circle of friends small and tight. Letting her in probably scared the shit out of him on a level he didn’t even recognize. Because then he could lose her, one way or the other.

  He was going to figure out, real quick, that she had absolutely no intention of getting lost.

  seven

  “Simple, huh?” Rachel backed away from him and headed into the house. She needed a beer. Maybe two. “As simple as living in the same town?”

  Jack followed her. “As simple as keeping things the way they have been until last night.”

  She wondered if he heard how gruff he sounded, how defensive.

  Reaching the fridge, she pulled out two beers and set one down in front of him. They faced each other across her kitchen counter with equally wary and examining glances.

  “You don’t get to make that decision by yourself, Jack.” She twisted off the top of her beer and took a swig.

  His gaze narrowed. He had his game face on, dangerous and inscrutable. “I’ll make the decision if it keeps you safe.”

  “I think the person you’re trying to save is yourself.” She pointed at him with the neck of her bottle. “I scare you.”

  “Thinking of something happening to you scares me.” He opened his beer and drank, watching her as he swallowed.

  “So, you ride off into the sunset, and I’m here safe and sound . . . until I get carjacked at the gas station. Or robbed at the store.”

  “Not the same thing,” he argued. “The level of inherent risk with me is much higher.”

  “Shouldn’t I be more worried about you not coming home than the reverse?”

  “I know what I’m getting into when I go to work. You didn’t sign up for this.” Jack ran his hand through his hair. “The last thing I want to do is bring more traumas to your life. You and Riley need someone who comes home every day. Someone who leaves their work at the office. Someone—”

  “Like Steve?” she interjected. “A guy who never had a moving violation in his life. No speeding tickets. A guy who never drove without his seat belt on. Who would have thought he’d die in a car wreck? No one. Terrible things happen to unsuspecting people every day. It’s part of living, Jack. There’s no way to go through life risk-free.”

  “I’m not bringing the shit from my job to your doorstep. Period.”

  Rachel’s foot tapped on the tile floor. “You think I didn’t know what I was taking on when I seduced you? I’m a grown woman with a child who depends on me. I don’t jump without looking. You seem to be forgetting how well and how long I’ve known you.”

  “Steve didn’t know the gritty details of what I do. If he had, he never would have wanted you anywhere near me on a permanent basis.”

  Her gaze moved to the photo of Steve and Jack on the mantel in the next room. She could barely make out the details from where she stood, but the image was indelibly etched on her mind; she could see it with her eyes closed. Both men were dark-haired and brown-eyed. Both were tall and fit. But that was where the similarities ended. Steve’s handsome Asian features reflected his fun and easy charm, while Jack’s gaze was shadowed and his smile guarded. Steve had been content with the simple things in life—like her. Extroverted and spontaneous, he was known and liked by damn near everyone; Jack was hard to know and harder to understand.

  Yet she loved them both madly.

  Rachel looked at him. “You were the brother Steve never had. He trusted you with his life. But I don’t make my decisions based on conjecture about what my deceased husband would think of them.”

  “Don’t you?” he challenged softly, his eyes so dark they looked black. “Tell me Steve isn’t the reason you came over last night.”

  “Steve isn’t the reason I came over last night.” She lifted her chin. “I loved my husband. I couldn’t have loved him more. He was everything to me and if he were alive right now, what happened last night would never have happened. But he died, and I came to terms with that. I changed. My needs and wants changed. And now, when I look at you, I don’t think about him. I don’t think about you in relation to him. Half the time, I don’t think at all, because I’m too busy appreciating the view. If you gave me some kind of best friend pity fuck last night, that’s on you. Don’t try and say that’s where I was coming from.”

  Jack was oddly still . . . except for the rapid tempo of his breathing and the fevered brightness of his eyes, both of which betrayed far more volatile emotions.

  Rachel frowned, catching on to the fact that she was missing something. She didn’t believe he’d made love to her for any other reason than that he’d wanted to, but she was beginning to think he hadn’t attributed the same motivation to her. “What’s going through your head?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I was wrong.” He looked down at his bottle, which he twisted and turned atop the counter. There was a softness to his features that tightened her chest.

  “Most especially in thinking you could put on the breaks and slide into reverse.” She bent down and leaned to the side, catching his lowered gaze. “There’s only forward, Jack. I stopped looking back a while ago.”

  JACK stared at the vibrant
woman looking at him in a way he’d never allowed himself to even dream about and knew he was done. He was never going to be able to say no to her. Not now. Not in the future. He wanted to give her everything, make her happy, keep her safe.

  As if she knew what he was thinking, she said, “The safest place I can be is right next to you.”

  “Not when I’m the reason you’re endangered to begin with.”

  “So you spend some of your off-duty days teaching me how to shoot a gun until I’m dangerous. You help me pick out an outrageously expensive and comprehensive alarm system for the house.”

  “Which house?”

  “Both. For now.” She smiled. “And you wear a bulletproof vest all the time. No crazy heroics.”

  “All the time?”

  “Except when I want you naked.”

  His mouth twitched. “I was hoping that would be all the time.”

  “After last night, that is all the time.”

  “Then I’ll be wearing body armor only rarely.”

  “If you want me to kick your ass and deny you sexual favors, try it.”

  Jack lifted his beer to his mouth to hide a smile. It was inappropriate considering the seriousness of the discussion, but Rachel always had that effect on him. She made him happy in spite of himself.

  “You can talk to me about anything, Jack,” she said softly, all levity gone. “You can ask me anything, and I’ll try to come through for you. But you can’t tell me to let you walk away. I can’t do it, I can’t let you go.”

  He swallowed and looked around the condo she’d bought after Steve died. It was the perfect size for her and Riley. The kitchen boasted new stainless-steel appliances and was big in relation to the overall square footage, which suited someone who baked for a living. The window over the sink had curtains with cupcakes on them—a housewarming gift from Steve’s mom.

  “You have a good life here,” he noted. “You’ve got family nearby and a new business. Riley has his friends and classmates.”