Page 55 of Jessica's Hero
My belly tightens at the promise of what will hopefully happen after. Squeezing my legs against the need building at my core, I suck in a steadying breath. “And maybe some other things, too?”
Heat flares in his gaze. “Definitelysome other things.” Then, in a tone just above a whisper, he adds, “I bought some silk scarves. In case you want to try them out tonight.”
Oh.
Desire floods through my body. In a strangled tone, I reply, “Scarves sound nice.”
As I look at Kane, everything else around us disappears. Sandy and Anna. The newly-hired receptionist, whose name I don’t know yet. The half-dozen patients waiting for their lab work. The guy refilling the vending machine over in the corner. None of them matter right now. It’s just me and this man I’m almost certain I’m falling in love with.
Then Kane’s phone buzzes from his pocket, interrupting the moment. He grabs the phone to check it, then stiffens as he switches back into police officer mode. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he says. “It’s Oliver. We just got a call. I need to go.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what it is. If it’s safe. But I know dating a cop means he can’t always tell me where he’s going or what the calls are about. So instead, I swallow back my surging worry and say, “Okay. Be careful.”
He cups my cheek. “I will. And you too. Remember, if something happens and you have to leave before the end of your shift, call me. If I can’t come, I’ll get one of the B and A guys to do it. Or Grant or Ian. Just don’t leave on your own.”
I kiss Kane on the cheek again. “I won’t. I promise. Now, go. Make Sleepy Hollow a safer place.”
He grins. “I will.” Then he pauses, like there’s something else he’s about to say. But before he can, his phone buzzes again. “Shit. I really have to go.”
“Then go.” I take a step away and give him a little push towards the front door. “I’ll see you soon.”
As I watch him walk away, the strangest feeling comes over me—kind of like a piece of my heart is leaving along with him.
Is this what Thea feels when Ben leaves? Or when Nora goes away on a job and has to leave Jackson behind?
Is this how it feels when you’re in love?
I’m still rolling the question around in my mind as I walk back to my office, still clutching the small bouquet of blue flowers—delphiniums, this time—in my hand. I get a few curious glances from coworkers I pass, some of them accompanied by pleased little smiles, others the same skeptical looks I saw from Anna and Sandy.
But I don’t care. I’ll keep telling myself that until I believe it. Until all that remains is the warm glow from Kane’s visit and the fizzy joy I got when he handed me the flowers and the anticipation of tonight.
Just as I’m turning down the hall that leads to my office, a male voice calls from behind me, “Jessica? Is that you?”
The instant I hear him, a band wraps around my chest and squeezes. He might not be sure who I am, but I’m certain of him. Considering how badly he hurt me, I’m not sure I’ll ever forget his sneery tone or the words he said.
Brian. My short-lived boyfriend back in my twenties. The guy who Ithoughtliked me, but discovered later was only using me.
I contemplate ignoring him and continuing on my way, but his footsteps speed up as he repeats, “Jessica. Wait.”
Crap.
Pretending not to hear him is one thing. But outrightignoring him? My mother raised me to be more polite than that.
With a resigned sigh, I turn around to face him.
Then I get a good look at my crappy ex, and even though I know it’s petty and superficial, I can’t help but feel smugly satisfied at his appearance.
Twenty-six-year-old Brian was good looking in a bland sort of way. Fairly fit thanks to an almost fanatic obsession with racquetball, dirty-blonde hair always combed to perfection, and a toothy grin he never hesitated to break out whenever he wanted something. Back then, I thought he was too attractive for me. I thought I was lucky to have found him.
Or at least, before he crushed my foolish heart and left me swearing never to trust a man again.
But now? He’s carrying at least fifty pounds more than he should be, with a good amount of it in his belly. His hair is thinning, barely concealed by a cotton-candy-like comb over. And his smile is more fake than I remember it being; or maybe it was fake all along and I never noticed.
Shouldit make me feel better that he hasn’t borne the last ten years very well? Probably not.
Does it? Yes. Very much so.
“Brian,” I say in a carefully pleasant tone. “What are you doing here? I thought you were still covering the Capital region.”
