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Jonas limped out of the bedroom a few minutes later, almost colliding with Kate as she emerged from the bathroom. The amber gaze swept over him from head to toe, and her lips compressed. He braced for the forthcoming lecture.
Instead, she flicked off the bathroom light switch and said, "I'll pick up more painkillers today. You’ll have to make do with extra-strength acetaminophen in the meantime. It’s in the kitchen cabinet above the fridge."
Jonas didn’t reply, taking in the stocking-covered toes peeping out from beneath charcoal slacks. His gaze traveled upward, noting how the gray fabric flared slightly below her knees but deliciously hugged the rest of her leg; settling on the pale gray blouse clinging to the curves his arm had—
Kate cleared her throat. "Did you hear me?"
"I heard." Jonas ground his teeth. "Kitchen cabinet above the fridge. Got it."
Her cheeks flushed with pink, Kate turned and continued down the hallway, twisting her hair up and clipping it at the nape of her neck as she walked. "The coffee's still fresh if you want some, and I left sandwiches wrapped up in the fridge for your lunch. I'll make spaghetti for dinner when I get home."
"Where are you going?"
Jonas hadn't meant it to sound quite so abrupt, but the sexy sway of her hips leading him into the living room was damned distracting. It threw him off his stride.
"To work."
She sauntered past him to the hall closet. Walked, actually. But focused as he was on those hips, it looked a hell of a lot more like a saunter. He scowled.
"Do you think that's wise?"
She looked over her shoulder at him as she pulled open the closet door. "I think it's what pays my rent."
"What happens if someone starts asking questions?"
"I've already missed one day. Questions are more likely if I miss another."
A valid point, but not one that quelled the vague panic in his gut at the thought of remaining here like a sitting duck, waiting for Ramirez and Lewis to turn up. Or at the idea of Kate being out there on her own, unprotected from them. Kate extracted a heavy metal lockbox from the floor of the closet, opened it, and took out her service weapon. Jonas's mouth twisted. Well, maybe not entirely unprotected.
"You understand how dangerous these people are, right?" he asked abruptly.
She shot a pointed look at his leg. "I think I have a rough idea, yes."
She checked the ammo clip and tucked the weapon into the side holster he hadn't noticed clipped to her belt. Damned sexy hips.
"Stay," he said gruffly. Kate's hands stilled.
Shit. That hadn't come out the way he'd intended.
A silent second passed, followed by three more. Jonas cleared his throat.
"I've been working undercover for almost eight years," he said, "and Lewis and Ramirez got the drop on me. You—" He gestured vaguely in her direction.
The amber gaze snapped to meet his. Her hands settled on the damned hips. "I what?"
"When is the last time you even pulled that thing, let alone used it?" He jutted his chin toward the gun she'd strapped on.
"In the kitchen at the farmhouse," she retorted. "Remember?"
Touché. But not what he'd meant.
Kate raised an eyebrow. "You don't think I'm capable?"
There was no easy way to say it. "Not when it comes to dealing with this, no. If you were in uniform, working the streets, maybe, but you sit behind a desk, Kate. If they figure out your connection, if they find you, you won't stand a chance. So please. Stay here and lie low where I can keep an eye on you, just for a couple of days. As soon as I can leave town, I'll call Lewis again. It will draw their attention away from you, and then your life can go back to normal."
There. He’d come up with a plan at last. Of sorts.
Kate stared at him for a moment. Then she shrugged into a gray blazer that matched the pants she wore and slipped her feet into a pair of low-heeled black shoes.
"The television remote is on the coffee table," she said, as if he hadn’t spoken. "I have satellite and Netflix, so you should be able to keep yourself occupied until I get home. If anything comes up, my office and cell numbers are beside the phone."
"That's it?" Jonas scowled at her. "You're not even going to respond to my suggestion?"
"Is that what you think it was? A suggestion?" Kate picked up a briefcase and pulled open the apartment door. "Funny. To me, it sounded more like an insult. I'll be home at five. Try to get some rest."
***
Stretched out on the couch, Jonas listened to the sounds of Kate's return home. The key in the lock, the opening of a closet door, the clunk of the heavy gun box returning to the floor after she put away her weapon, the closet door closing again. He couldn't keep up the pretense of sleep forever, but—
A soft, heavy something landed on his chest. He cracked open an eye and stared at the plastic shopping bag. Raised his gaze to the woman beyond.
"Clothes," she said, walking away. A second later, he heard her in the kitchen.
He cleared his throat and raised his voice over the clatter of pots and pans. "You shouldn't have bothered. I'm fine with these."
"You sweated out a fever in those ones," she called back. "Trust me, you need the change."
He plucked at a handful of shirt. Sniffed. Grimaced. She had a point.
"You're welcome," she added loudly. A pot landed in the sink with a metallic bang, and the water came on.
Jonas sighed and moved the bag of clothes off his chest. Gingerly, he swung his feet off the couch and onto the floor. She was right. He should thank her. Not only for the clothes, but for taking him in like this. Saving his life, not turning him in...damn, but he owed her. So much.
The knowledge had been eating away at him all day. He wasn't used to owing anyone for anything. He made a point of avoiding situations that called for indebtedness of any kind. Or thanks. Or apologies, for that matter—which he also owed Kate after this morning. He winced at the slam of a cupboard door and levered himself upright. No time like the present...if only to keep her from knocking the place apart.
He arrived in the doorway as Kate turned off the water and lifted a pot from the sink. "Can I help?" he asked.
Kate jumped, sending water sloshing across her feet. She cursed and set the pot on the counter. Jonas handed her the tea towel looped through the fridge door handle beside him. She took it wordlessly, dried her feet, mopped up the puddle, and tossed the towel into a corner.
He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and slid the tips of his fingers into the front pockets of his sweatpants. "I didn't mean to startle you."
Kate turned her back on him. "It's fine." She set the pot on the stove and turned it on. "And no, I don't need help."
He watched her take out a jar of spaghetti sauce and a box of pasta from a cupboard, then moved out of her way when she crossed to the fridge and took a bag of meatballs from the freezer.
"Thank you for the clothes," he said when she returned to the counter.
She snorted. "Was that as painful as it sounded?"
She wasn't going to make this easy, was she? Not that he could blame her. He hadn't exactly been a model of appreciation so far.
"Thank you for everything else you've done for me, too," he said. "And I'm sorry for this morning. I didn't mean to insult you. I'm sure you're a perfectly capable cop."
She stared at him over her shoulder. "My goodness, you're just a fountain of good manners all of a sudden, aren't you?"
Jonas flexed his jaw. He supposed he had that coming.
"I haven't had much practice at accepting help," he said. "And I'm not used to having someone else to worry about when I'm in a situation. I'm not very..."
"Well socialized?" Kate suggested tartly, when he trailed off.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Not quite the words I was looking for, but no, I suppose I'm not...well socialized. I am sorry, though, Kate. And I'm very grateful. So...friends?"
He pulled one hand from its pocket and held it out to her. Pink blossomed in her cheeks as she stared at it, then she turned her back on him again.
"Fine," she muttered. “Apology accepted.”
Jonas let his hand drop to his side again. His gaze slid over Kate's slender, ramrod-stiff back. If he didn’t know better, he might think he hadn't been the only one affected by this morning's unplanned wrestling session. How intriguing. He coughed to cover his sudden startlement. No. No, not intriguing. Alarming. He had no room in his life for complications right now. Any more complications, that was.
Especially ones that came with amber cat's eyes and soft—
"Are you all right?" Kate frowned at him. "You look like you're in pain."
"I'm good," he said. Lied. He took a step backward, into the hallway. "If you're sure you don't need help, I'll go change."
"I'm sure." She waved him off. "Go. Dinner's in twenty. And I did my best on the jeans, by the way, but I may have erred on the large side, so there’s a belt in the bag if you need it."