After Avery unlocked the door and closed it behind Luys, his dark brows lifted as his gaze roamed over her body before settling on her face. “You look like you’re feeling better than before. I’m glad.” He smiled, flashing those incredible white teeth. He even had a too-sexy dimple on his left cheek.
She flushed, still reeling from the abnormality of her quick healing and strange and unsettling amplified hearing. “It’s amazing what a shower will do.”
“Well, food should make you feel even better.” He lifted two bags of groceries. “Lead the way.”
Luys followed her into the U-shaped kitchen, where he made himself comfortable, finding the necessary pots, pans, and silverware. She brushed her palms against her hips to warm her clammy hands. Over six feet, he filled the small room with his large frame. As he twisted to one side and grasped the handle of a cast-iron skillet, the cords of his forearm flexed, and the fabric of his t-shirt stretched across the broad width of his shoulders, hinting at his strength. His faded jeans hugged his hips and thighs. Avery couldn’t deny he was sexy. Dimples, killer smile, dark sultry eyes, and thick mahogany hair any woman would love to run her hands through. From the moment she’d crossed paths with him, she’d considered him disconcertingly attractive, and now that he was in her too tiny kitchen, she found him even more so.
She scowled, not sure of herself and hating the feeling. Was she crazy to have let him inside? He could easily subdue her. Mayor had been a safety valve, but now it was just the two of them with thick walls that could muffle any cry of help from her.
She didn’t know him. He could have been the person behind what had happened to her. What better way to get to know your victim than by pretending to be a friend or someone who cared?
Luys could be dangerous.
Her frown deepened as she watched him for several minutes move about in the kitchen and start the pasta. She wasn’t always the best judge of character. She’d let other people into her life who not only disappointed but hurt her. Take her last boyfriend. When she’d confided in Blake, took a chance on him, he’d dumped her so fast she’d had whiplash.
She’d considered Luys rude and cold. He didn’t look like either now. Could she have misjudged him completely? He didn’t have to do what he was doing. He could have easily grabbed some fast food and dropped it off.
He was being kind. And he’d done everything right, not hesitating once to ensure her wellbeing.
That didn’t sound like a man who would slice and dice a woman.
After he opened a drawer to grab a large spoon to stir the pasta and pulled a colander from a cabinet, he pivoted in her direction. “It looks like you have someone watching over you.”
Avery frowned, for a minute wondering who he was talking about. “Oh, you mean Mayor.”
“Are you good friends?”
She leaned against the fridge as he poured the water and pasta from the pot to the colander in the sink. “Not really. I met her a couple of months ago.”
“I see,” he murmured, dumping the contents of the colander into a frying pan and retrieving the spoon from the counter. A sudden stillness settled around him.
Or maybe it was her imagination…. She cocked her head to the side. No, there was something there in his face even though he tried to hide it. He knew Mayor. She waited for a bit, hoping he’d say more, but when he kept silent, she finally said, “Yeah, we’re both coffee addicts. She lives not too far from here.”
Metal hit the stove, then clattered to the floor. “Damnation!”
“Oh, here!” She hurried over and picked up the spoon from the floor he’d dropped. When she rose and found herself between the counter and Luys’ very large and very masculine body. He towered over her with what felt like a good foot.
The sudden look in his gaze sucked the breath from her lungs. Anger radiated from his dark brown eyes. She shifted backward, but the edge of the counter bit into her back. Unable to get a safe distance between them, she clutched at the large spoon and lifted it between them. Maybe she’d been stupid for judging Luys after all. He could easily snap any of her bones with a quick flick of his wrist.
He stepped back, giving her space while the sudden anger in his eyes just as quickly dissipated. He rubbed his thumb with his fingers and winced. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to alarm you. I surprised myself. I am usually proficient in the kitchen and don’t usually burn myself.”
When he became emotional, his words thickened to where he rolled the vowels in such a way that the dialect didn’t sound like anything from Spain or even Mexico, at least to her ears.
She didn’t loosen her grip on the spoon. “Let me see. I’ll get some anti-bacterial cream.”
“No. No. It is nothing.” Dropping his hand to his side, he smiled, and the darkness in his gaze shifted yet again and turned into warm, dark chocolate. He stepped further away until he rested against the opposite counter.
Her grasp on the spoon’s handle eased. Maybe she’d read too much into his expression. She could have mistaken anger for pain.
“I’ll need another cooking utensil to stir the shrimp and pasta.”
“Yes, of course.” After discarding the old spoon in the sink, she pulled out another from the drawer beside her and handed it to him, trying not to notice that his hand was almost double in size from her own.
The scent of butter and garlic drifted toward her as he mixed the noodles with the shrimp and peas. Hunger hit her stomach. “It smells delicious!”
“Almost done.” He rummaged through her silverware drawer and pulled out a wine opener. “I did get some white wine. I didn’t know if you liked dry or sweet, so I picked a semi-dry.”
“No, that’s perfect.”
“How about you sit down. Relax a bit. I’ll set the table.”
“Oh, no. it’s the least I can do with you cooking dinner.”
With both plates and wine served, Luys joined her at the table. “So, what do you think?”
She took a bite, letting the butter, pasta, and shrimp linger on her tongue before swallowing. She moaned—she couldn’t help it—and met his earnest gaze. “It’s delicious. If I tried something like this, I’d probably cook the shrimp until they were hard rubber.”
His teeth flashed. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ve had no complaints so far.”
“Do you like to cook?”
“I love it...”
“But?”
He shrugged. “I’ve few people to cook for.”
“Oh.” She glanced down at his left hand. She’d already noticed long before he didn’t wear a ring, but she didn’t feel comfortable asking whether he was divorced.
He made a face. “I’ve been single longer than I like to admit. I do have family...a brother who lives out of state.”
“And your parents?”
“Mine passed years ago. I remember very little of them, but what about you?” He searched her face with unmistakable interest. “Do you have a large family?”
“No. Just me.” When he continued to stare back at her, she surprised herself by adding, “I never knew my parents. They died when I was a toddler, and it’s just been me most of my life. I had a couple of foster families, but none of them really stuck until I was twelve, but that relationship ended abruptly. From then on, I stopped trying to compete with babies, toddlers, and little kids.”
“That must have been hard on you.”
Avery stared at her plate, her hand tightening on her fork. “Yes, well, life is never easy.”
“I didn’t intend to upset you, and—”
“No, you didn’t. That was a long time ago.” Avery shook her head quickly. “If nothing else, it’s made me stronger. Far stronger than I even imagined.” She forced a smile. She didn’t want to go back there. She’d folded the past and put it away in a safe, dark closet. She’d come too far now to unfold it.
During the rest of the meal, they talked about the weather, movies, nothing too personal, which was just as well. Becoming intimate with Luys, even as a friend, wasn’t the best idea right now, not with her future. Among everything else, she had an attacker with a dark, obscene motive she couldn’t understand. Anything happening with Luys would end up messy. Granted, she had an idea anything messy with Luys would be a good messy.
She shouldn’t even be enjoying herself. She should be talking to someone at the police station again to see if there were any recent developments. Yeah, she’d already called them today and left a message, but that was this morning before Mayor had shown up at her door. Any number of things could have happened. They could have arrested someone during that time.
This morning, she’d also talked to the condo’s homeowner’s association and tried to get information as to any new residents. They’d given her the standard, “We can’t divulge that information. It’s against our privacy policies and the law to release anything.”
So, she’d have to do some detective work on possible suspects. But she had no clue where to start. Then she stared across the table at Luys. “You’ve lived in the complex for a while, right? Longer than I have, I think.”
“A good six years.”
She nodded, staring down at a pea as she moved it around her plate with her fork.
“Why?”
Oh, God. She had to tell him something. “Someone attacked me, and the police don’t have any suspects yet, and I thought you might be aware of anyone new in the complex who might—”
“Hurt you or anyone else?” He placed his fork slowly on his plate.
“...yes.” She hated this topic. It made her feel vulnerable, raw, exposed.
“I cannot think of anyone in the complex...”
“But...?”
He slid a thumb up and down the handle of his fork. “What about someone else? This Mayor? Where does she live?”
“Oh, she lives over on Gold Dust off of Scottsdale Road. One of the older houses.” She shook her head. “There’s no way she could have attacked me.”
“Why is that?”
Definitely some antagonism between the two. She was tempted to ask why, but she didn’t want to delve into something she didn’t want to deal with now.
“You saw her. She might be taller than me, but there’s no way she could overpower me. I work out with weights when I’m not running or using an elliptical machine.
“Hmm.”
Then silence, awkward and thick. The mood was getting dark, and she’d had enough of dark to last the rest of her life. “Enough about me. What about you? Have you always lived in Scottsdale?”
He shifted. “No.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve lived in too many places to mention, but now I consider Scottsdale my home. The heat is something I enjoy even in the summer.”
“Even when it hits 115 or higher?” she teased.
“Even then.” He chuckled. Then he rose and retrieved both plates. “I did buy a dessert.”
Avery groaned. “You’re going to be the death of my scale.”
“How about a bit of molten chocolate cake?”
She loved chocolate, and she found she had little self-control when he placed the dessert in front of her. After eating every morsel, she groaned again and sat back in her chair. “You’re going to have to roll me out of the kitchen. I ate way too much!”
“I’m sure a few extra calories will do you some good.” Luys grinned back at her, his eyes crinkling at the sides.
Then when his brow dipped, she believed his thoughts had veered back to her attack. She jumped up and started picking up the dishes. “I’ll clean up.”
“No. I’m not having that.” He took the salt and pepper shaker from her, his fingers brushing against hers.
“I’m feeling fine.” Which was the truth but strange after being brutally assaulted.
The kitchen was small. Avery grew distinctly conscious of his large frame, of how his arm would brush against hers, of the warmth of his body inches from her own as he moved around the kitchen and helped stack the dishes in the dishwasher. At one point, as she edged to one side and pressed her back up against the counter, she looked up and met his gaze as he reached over her to put a plate away. He paused, and her body stilled at the way his eyes seemed to darken with some emotion. Passion? Hunger?
She held her breath as her pulse stuttered and lust roiled through her body to pool low in her belly. Slowly, he placed the plate on top of another in the cabinet and dropped his hand to her shoulder. The heat of his palm burned into the thin fabric of her shirt as they stared at each other.
Impulse moved her hand upward. She grazed her knuckles along the side of his neck, then slipped her fingers into the fringe of his hair by of his ear, relishing the silken texture.
His head dipped. Their lips touched. Their breath mingled.
An ache in her belly escalated to the point that she gasped at its intensity. She hadn’t had a man in her bed for what seemed forever and hadn’t realized she’d been starving herself until now. She clutched his arm with her other hand as he edged closer until his chest flattened the rise and fall of her breasts.
The kiss deepened. His lips tasted of wine and chocolate. Someone groaned; she wasn’t sure who. She then slipped her fingers into the thick, luscious waves of his hair above his nape and arched into his body, gasping against his mouth as the heat of his arousal pressed into her belly. Knowing he was equally hungry made her want him that much more.
If she wasn’t careful, she was going to lose absolute control of herself...if she hadn’t already.
Then he stiffened and stepped away, forcing Avery to drop her hands back down to her side. She felt strangely bereft. Only a kiss, but it had the potency of hitting her like a two-by-four. It made her wonder what it would be like if Luys hadn’t stopped. Would she have let desire cloud her sanity, make her do and say things she would have regretted hours later?
No. She wasn’t that impulsive. At least she never had been before.
The kiss had been more innocent than most, hadn’t it? No open mouths or tongues involved. Just bodies touching, hands not going anywhere inappropriate. Then she remembered the ridge of his erection against her body. No, he’d been equally aroused and, like her, hadn’t been thinking innocent thoughts.
“I better go.” He stepped away, giving her needed air. A distinct flush darkened his cheekbones.
She nodded, not about to argue. Having him here was dangerous and tempting at the same time. “Of course.”
“I’ll check on you tomorrow.”
“You don’t need to,” she forestalled as she followed him to the door.
With a hand on the metal knob, he looked down at her and slipped several strands of her hair over one ear. “But I want to, and make sure you lock up behind me. Your safety...”
He stumbled over the last words before he kissed her on her brow, and her breath caught against the back of her throat at the unexpected but tender caress. Then he quickly opened the door and disappeared outside.
Her toes curled into the carpet as she closed the door after him. Sighing, she leaned her back against its frame and pressed a fist against her chest to calm her heartbeat.
This evening, she’d never been so conflicted in her life. One minute she wanted to have him sweep her into his arms, and then the next, she wanted him gone. She’d received as many mixed signals as possible from Luys.
She locked the door and the deadbolt.
A sound broke through her thoughts. The wail of a siren. The noise strengthened. She stood against the door as the cry in the night reached a crescendo but then dimmed. The police or an ambulance, she couldn’t tell. But someone needed help.
In less than a second, sudden panic exploded inside her chest, shattering the warmth of Luys’ visit as she double-checked both locks with a trembling hand. She stepped away from the door. Had her attacker struck again? Had they cut up their next victim and left them to die alone this time?
She tried to shrug off the fear, the loneliness, but it was impossible tonight. For years, she’d told herself she was alone but not lonely, but she couldn’t lie to herself this evening, not with the way her anxiety amplified her sense of isolation.
She was tired, tired of fighting life on her own, of being strong when she felt anything but.
Was it so wrong to want to find a man who knew not only her body but her mind intimately? To share a moment or two with someone else other than herself? Was she asking too much? Were her expectations too high?
She wanted to be selfish. Moments lasted only so long. She wanted more than a day, a month, a year with someone.
But would it be fair to let someone into her life with what she knew about herself?
Thursday, August 21st – 7:28 pm
After stopping by the grocery store to grab some salad and frozen dinners to show Luys if he happened by her condo that she had more than orange juice and eggs in her fridge, Avery drove down the main road leading into her condo community. She glanced in the rearview mirror. A vehicle was bearing down on her at a ridiculous speed. In ten seconds, it would hit her back end if she didn’t do something, and fast. Then she realized it was a police car. She veered to the right and hugged the side of the road, all the while gripping the steering wheel with rigid fingers as she slowed.
One, then two cars raced past.
No sirens, no lights. Strangely silent. Unlike last night, where she couldn’t get rid of the sound of the police or ambulance’s wail from inside her head, to the point, she’d given up on sleep and gotten up to recheck the locks on the windows and doors.
For some reason, the silence felt worse than if the police cruisers had their lights flashing and sirens blaring, signaling their approach. Both vehicles turned off into her condo complex. Her heart rate kicked up. For a moment, she thought of Luys, then of her friend Cristina. Life could change so in a moment. One second, sure and stable, and then the next careening into chaos.
She pulled back onto the road and turned left onto the complex and in the same direction as the police. Probably not the best idea to follow them. She rolled to a stop halfway through the north parking section. Two squad cars blocked the section leading to her reserved spot, forcing her to park in a visitor parking slot. The barricade was far from a good sign.
Behind the wheel, she sat in indecision. Leaving her groceries behind and grabbing her purse, she slipped from the car. Did she dare go out amid whatever was going on? A wave of hot air blasted her from all sides and sucked the oxygen from her lungs. She blinked against the sun’s glare as one of the squad cars backed up to let an ambulance through. The truck passed without its lights. Another silent emergency vehicle, another bad sign.
She frowned, surprised at how easily she could hear static and the officer’s PA system from half a block away.
“Hey, Avery!”
She turned to find Cristina rushing down the sidewalk toward her from the opposite direction. The gleam of sweat clung to her friend’s face. She must have been outside watching the drama unfold for some time. “What’s going on?”
“Someone was murdered.”