“Well, that’s lucky.” Julia wondered if he was buttering her up for something, and why, and if he really did like pecan pie. On the other hand, who didn’t like pecan pie?
“You got my number, I guess.”
“Yes, she certainly does,” interjected Cathy, like the sly dog she was.
Julia gave her a warning look as Cathy scooted back her chair and brought out a pot of coffee. Cathy poured the brew, and Will ate two pieces of pie and politely complimented Julia on its deliciousness. She was stupidly pleased and chastised herself soundly.
Keep it professional, keep it professional
, she kept telling herself.
Partner, partner, partner, partner
.
“Oh yes, Julia’s a better cook than I am. Lots of down-home Southern recipes from Memphis,” gushed Cathy.
Jeez, what was Cathy going to do next, give Will a punched ticket into Julia’s bedroom?
“My favorite kind of cooking,” said Will. “That’s what my mom does.”
Aha, Julia thought, the most private one slipped up. “Where does your mom live?”
“She moves around a lot.”
“Will the
Men in Black
come after you if you talk about your mom’s cooking, too?”
There was another awkward silence for a moment. Cathy and Lonnie looked at her as if she’d asked Will how well he performed in bed, which she suspected he might be willing to describe readily enough. Oh no, he wouldn’t. What had gotten into her? She was being ridiculous. He was a nice guy. Maybe that’s what had her so upset. He was okay, which wasn’t okay.
“My mother grew up in Alabama. She’s a great lady. I miss her.”
Well, now, let’s peel down some more of that onion
, thought Julia, delighted he was finally talking about himself. “What about brothers and sisters? Do you have any?”
“Yes.” Will turned to Cathy. “Do you think I could take home a doggie bag? Everything you made was so good.”
“Of course.” Cathy was pleased. Julia could see it in her face, and Will’s request got Cathy jumping up from the table and packing him a sack of goodies. Effectively ending any need for him to answer further questions about his family, brothers and sisters included.
After dinner they played cards. Hearts, men against the women. Will was very good. To her chagrin, the men won. Afterward, Cathy refused to let them help with the dishes, and when they were ready to leave, she shooed them out the front door like two teenagers on their first date. No doubt planning to peek out the bedroom windows like an overprotective mom.
Outside, on the long porch filled with comfortable chairs and couches, Julia looked at Will. “You did notice, of course, that Cathy’s got this matchmaker complex. She just can’t help herself. Sorry about that.”
Will held the screen door open for her. “I like your friends. Lonnie, too. He’s a nice man. We both root for the Braves.”
They walked together out to his truck.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said abruptly.
“Get in. I’ll take you home.”
“No, that’s okay. I walked down here. I like to walk.”
“Then I’ll walk you home. It’s the least I can do on our first date. Besides, Cathy there, who’s watching us out the window, will be disappointed if I don’t.”
Julia laughed. “Okay, but it’s not a date.”
“I know. Just kidding.”
He didn’t act like he was kidding. Trouble was, it felt like a first date—discomfort, self-consciousness, stammering, and all. She had a feeling he was experiencing the same asinine Zoe-aged emotions. “Okay, I’ll take the ride. Thanks.”
“I really like it out here on the river,” Will commented as they drove the short distance to the boathouse. “There’s something about living on water that’s soothing.”
“Does that mean that you live on water?”
There was a slight hesitation, but this time he actually divulged a fact about his place of residence. Miracle upon miracle.
“Yes, but it’s more of a lake.”
“Around here?”
“Yes. Here we are. That took about three minutes flat.”
Will turned off the ignition and then the headlights. They sat silently with the moonlight flooding through the windshield, painting them in a pearly, romantic light. “How about inviting me in for a nightcap?” he suggested.
No, no, no, no
, she thought. “Okay,” she said.
They walked up the steps, and Jasper came barreling out of the house. He stopped barking when he realized it was Julia and Will. “Have a seat,” she told Will when they reached the porch. “I don’t have much, just beer and water and Seven Up.”
“That sounds great. I’ll take a beer.”
Will took a seat on the swing, and Julia walked inside. She got two Bud Lights out of the fridge, twisted off the caps, and carried them back out on the porch.
This is not a good idea
, she thought.
Nope, it’s a bad idea, in fact. Very, very bad
. This was feeling more and more like a date. Unfortunately, she liked the feeling. So did her body, judging by the way her nerve endings were all tingling and having a party inside her skin. Damn, she liked Will more than she should. A lot more, in fact. And if she was not mistaken, he liked her, too. They both knew better, but then again, crazy, insane, impossible-to-control sexual chemistry was hard to ignore.
Will was outside now, down by the river, leaning up against the picnic table on the bank. She walked down the hill to join him and handed him a bottle of beer.
“Here you go, nice and cold.”
Will took the beer, tipped it back, and she stood beside him, looking out across the dark river at the lights on the far side, trying to ignore the quivering going on in certain intimate places. “This is a great spot,” she said. “You can see the stars like nowhere else I’ve ever been.”
When she looked at Will, his eyes weren’t on any stars. They were drinking her in. They stared at each other, longingly, hungrily, and every nerve in Julia’s body started dancing jigs. They were very close now, eyes locked, thinking about one thing and one thing only, and what it was going to feel like. He reached out and stroked her hair. “You just don’t know how long I’ve wanted to touch you like this. You have beautiful hair, Julia, the blackest hair I’ve ever seen.”
Then his fingertips caressed her cheek so lightly she could barely feel it. She felt all the caution, all the barriers she’d erected around her heart start to come down like a row of flicked dominoes. She tried to refreeze her inner fortitude, but his other hand was on her waist, pulling her up against his chest. Oh God. She didn’t resist, and chastised herself silently for that, too, but it felt good. It felt so good to have a man’s arms around her, to have Brannock’s arms around her. He felt hard and warm and strong, and she leaned into him, wanting more, despite her better judgment. His lips found hers, hot and eager, and she let herself go, just for this moment, just for this one kiss. She responded, sliding her arms around his neck, and Will made a sound of pleasure deep inside his throat and tangled both fists in her hair. Julia opened her mouth under his invading tongue, and then they were lost in the sheer sensations, tongues touching, their bodies on fire, both giving in to something they’d wanted since the first day they’d met but had fought off for days and days and days.
It took some time, but finally, she wasn’t sure how long, Julia managed to pull her whirling, incoherent, unbelievably turned-on thoughts together, and realized what they were doing, what they shouldn’t do, what she couldn’t do. She thought of Bobby, of what had happened to him, of how she’d grieved so long and hard, and she stiffened in Will’s arms and somehow managed to push her palms against his chest. She could feel the way it was heaving under her hands, could hear him panting, could hear her own breaths, shallow and quick and shaken.
“We can’t do this,” she got out in somebody else’s voice. Somebody whose words were wavering like a frightened virgin’s.
“I know. We can’t.” His lips attacked hers again. She fell against him, forgetting everything but the masculine taste of him, the way his hands felt exploring her body, finding his way under her shirt, his palms sliding over her bare flesh. Julia fought herself back to good sense.
“We can’t do this,” she tried again, very halfheartedly.
“No, this is a terrible idea.”
His mouth found hers again. Julia fought for self-control, didn’t find it for a while—quite a while, actually. When she did, she backed out of his arms, jerked loose, and put a few feet of distance between them. Will took a step toward her, his breathing harsh and his chest heaving. She took another step back, shaky, weak in the knees, weak in the head.
“God, I want you like I’ve never wanted anybody,” Will muttered, breathless, too.
Julia moistened her trembling lips. She wanted him, too; was tired of fighting the attraction. “We’re both pros. We’re working on a murder case. We cannot do this right now. Later, it’ll be a different story. It’ll be acceptable then.”
Moonlight carved dark planes and hollows in Will’s handsome face as he stared silently at her. He didn’t look exactly thrilled. He placed his hands on his hips, shook his head, then looked back at her. “Okay, I can live with that, I guess, if it’s got to be. As long as we can finish this. Soon.”
Julia swallowed hard. “I don’t know anything about you, Will, except that you’re hiding things from me. That makes me nervous.”
“I’ve got my reasons for that.”
Julia waited, surprised that he had admitted it, but he didn’t elaborate, didn’t tell her why. “What is it? You don’t trust me?”
“I trust you. I just can’t tell you everything you want to know. Let’s leave it at that.”
That was all he said. That was all he was ever going to say. But could she leave it at that like he wanted to do? “Then maybe we should step back and pretend this didn’t happen.”
Will gave a low laugh. “Maybe you can forget the way that felt, but not me.”
“I’m just saying, not while we’re on this case together. It’s too important. People are dying. We’ve got to find who’s doing it.”
“You’re right. I know that. I’ve been living this case, night and day. Just like you have.”
Julia looked out over the river. “I’m no prude, Will, but I don’t go in for casual sex. I never have, and I don’t intend to change that with you. And I like to know who I’m getting close to.”
“It won’t be casual.”
Will reached out and pulled her back into his embrace. She could feel his heart beating beneath her ear.
“You need to go,” she whispered, “before we do something we’ll both regret.”
“I won’t regret it.” He stopped speaking for a moment and just held her. “Look, I’ll back off and go, sure, if that’s what you really want, but don’t think this is over because it’s not. We’re not finished.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“Oh, we’re gonna finish this, all right, and I think you know it.”
He was right, of course. They would finish it; she knew that only too well. She wanted him to stay, to kiss her all night long, forever if he wanted to, but she couldn’t bring herself to give in to it, not yet.
“Then I guess I’ll see you in the morning,” Will said, still holding her tightly against him. He whispered, his mouth against her hair, “Good luck pretending this didn’t happen.”
He let go of her then, and Julia watched him walk off. He stopped halfway to the truck. “Thing is, Jules, I’m not at all sure you can keep your hands off me. It’s going to be hard for you. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, right,” she said, but she had to laugh at his joking, because his words were oh, so true.
“Go ahead, laugh. But you’ll see. You’ll want to kiss me again, and you’ll be sorry about sending me packing like this.”
“Would you just get out of here?” she told him, but the smile would not leave her face.
“You really know how to hurt a guy, Cass.” He paused. “Lock your doors tonight. Keep that gun under your pillow.”
Julia watched him get inside his Hummer, glad he had ended this episode on a light note. That would make things easier in the morning. He sat there for a few seconds, then the headlights flared on and the engine roared to life. He slowly turned the truck around and headed down the river road toward Cathy and Lonnie’s house.
Julia stood in the darkness and looked around. The river was flowing along, just as if nothing momentous had happened, crickets singing full force in the woods. The stars were out; the breeze was nice and cool. She wished Will was still there. How could this have happened? Who would’ve thought it possible? She had thought him a playboy type from the day they’d met, had felt that attraction that so many other women had undoubtedly felt.
During all the time they had worked so closely together, hour after hour, day after day, week after week, he’d been strictly professional, had done nothing to make her feel that he was a self-absorbed cad. In fact, he had been a gentleman, a serious law enforcement officer on the job, and had certainly given her no indication that he was a sleazy guy on the make. Just the opposite, really. She trusted him now, trusted his instincts on the job. He made her smile, was easy to be with, was easy to fall in love with.