Page 26 of Vision of Justice

Hunting for ingredients, chopping, and stirring kept her mind off of the explosion, and off of Gus after Julie had left to get a book from the library. The rumble of the garage door made her pause. She washed her hands in the sink and dried them with one of the towels hanging over the oven handle. The house alarm Julie had set before she left disengaged, and Gus stepped through the door. His face was wilted in exhaustion, and dark circles that weren’t there last night had formed beneath his eyes. He looked toward the pot on the stove, then at her, and his shoulders visibly relaxed. She should’ve insisted that he sleep in his bed instead of the couch. He was the one who was working to solve these cases, who had to stay sharp. Being tired on the job could put his life in danger.

“You stayed.” His gaze roamed over her, and there was a familiar hitch in her chest.

“You asked me to.” She offered a soft smile and stepped forward, not really sure how to greet him. They were keeping things more formal, but it felt awkward to simply say hello. That, and the need building within her had only intensified, ready to snap.

He took a step back. “I’m filthy. I have to shower.”

“Whatever you need.” It must’ve been the wrong thing to say because his whole body tensed and he turned toward his bedroom.

“I’ll be right back.” His gruff tone rode over her skin, leaving tingles in its wake.

The pipes creaked overhead, and the sound of spray pummeling the shower stall reverberated from the bedroom. He didn’t waste any time. Over the course of one night, she’d memorized every hard line and taut muscle of his body. There was a fluttering in her chest, accompanied by a light-headedness that had everything to do with Gus stripped bare beneath the pounding water as it soaked his skin. She’d never last another night in this house with him so close. She busied herself setting the table with bowls and spoons. A glass was in each hand when the sound of the shower abruptly stopped, and the rapid beat of her heart filled the silence. One of the glasses slipped from her hand and shattered on the tile floor. Fragmented shards splintered in every direction, and she shrieked.

A door opened then slammed. Feet pounded down the hall. Gus placed his hand over his heart gave a deep sigh when he looked at the glass.

“Shit. I thought you were hurt. You okay?” A towel was slung low around his hips, his shoulders still glistening with droplets of water. Those shapely muscles, his pecs, his rigid stomach all on display and untouchable. She blinked once, then twice. She wasn’t sure she could formulate a coherent answer when he was standing there like made-to-order sex delivered in a shiny ribbon—aka, a flimsy towel easily untied. “Sasha?”

“Yup. All good. Glass.” Her voice was breathless, and a full-body blush warmed at the tip of her ears and traveled down her face and neck, and all the way to her bare feet.

“Come ’ere,” he said, roughly holding out his hand. “I don’t want you getting cut.” When he took her hand and pulled her into him, it was like being struck by lightning. She looked up, and his blown-out pupils were locked on hers. The desire she thought might’ve waned was now crystal clear beneath the thin towel. One minute they were simply staring, and the next they were attacking each other. In one quick move, he had her sitting on the island counter, hands caressing the tops of her thighs as he stood between her legs kissing her like the world was disintegrating beneath them. His hands went to her face, caressed her cheeks. Firm fingers held her chin as they kissed, and she kept wiggling toward the edge of the stone to get him closer. They both moaned, a guttural sound from low in their throats, just as the alarm beeped. They broke the kiss and looked toward the door where Julie was standing slack-jawed.

She held up a baguette with one hand. “I got bread for the soup, but it looks like you’ve moved onto dessert.”

Gus huffed and stepped back, taking her with him. He placed her gently on the floor and turned. “There’s glass.” He pointed to the floor. “Don’t touch it,” he said to his sister and disappeared down the hall.

Julie giggled and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry for interrupting,” she whispered with a smirk on her face.

“We need a chaperone,” she said, trying to control the furious heat building along her cheeks.

“Clearly,” she mouthed with a roll of her eyes. That was all it took for the laughter to begin, until she was leaning against the counter, tears in her eyes. Julie clutched the loaf of bread, doubled over.

“Did I miss something?” Gus’s raised brow and the grumpy expression on his face ignited another fit of breath-clenching laughter. He just shook his head and got a broom from the closet to sweep up the mess. Sasha genuinely liked Julie and what she’d seen of Gus’s brothers. They’d dropped everything to be there for their brother and a woman they’d never met. Together, they’d forged a tight unit. The stab of envy startled her. Since the day her parents and brother died, she’d intentionally gone out of her way to avoid connections, family.

So what if a chemical reaction combusted within her whenever Gus got close? It was just physical between them. Attraction, lust, but nothing else. Panic was a slow landslide that started in her chest and ground into her stomach. There could be nothing else between them. This was his life, his family, and she wasn’t a part of it. She’d built her own world, one that she was perfectly content with.

“Are you okay?” Julie touched her hand to her shoulder. “You look a little off.”

“I’m fine. Maybe a little hungry.” She crossed over to the stove and turned off the burner. “Is it okay if we eat?” she managed to squeak out, even though her stomach was a twisting mess. Julie sliced the bread while Gus poured drinks, and she filled the bowls on the table. They ate together like the night before, and Julie dismissed herself either to work on a report, or to give them space.

“I’m so glad she didn’t walk in one second later.” A whisper of a smile danced over Gus’s face.

“Me, too.” She covered her face with her hand and shook her head.

“Thanks for dinner. It was awesome. And thoughtful.” There was more emotion behind his words than was typical for a simple meal. If anyone could understand that though, it was her. People who had others to rely on might dismiss a helpful gesture like making a meal or offering a ride, but she and Gus had been on their own for a while now. They were used to seeing to their own needs.

“Don’t mention it,” she said, leaning back as Gus stacked her dish on top of his and took it to the sink.

“All day, I was worried you’d left, and then I walked through the door and you were here cooking.” He circled back, sitting beside her instead of across the table, where he’d been sitting earlier.

“Where did you go?” She was almost afraid to ask. With each passing day, things seemed to get more complicated, more dangerous.

“The barracks. I wanted to check something out.” He reached for her hand, tucking it between both of his. How could such a small touch make her feel so warm and safe?

“What did you find?” she asked, braver now that she was holding his hand.

He sighed. “A woman who’d been killed. She was the assembly tech manager at Jefferson and Sons. We’ve had two other recent victims who worked as assembly techs for the company, at varying stages of their careers.

“Oh,” she breathed, placing her free hand on the outside of his. “Why is this happening?”

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