Page 25 of In Her Eyes

The effect of her full attention on me is like a drug I want another hit of. My pulse speeds and my head spins. It’s like an adrenaline high.

“The Army.” I leave the SUV running. “Lock the doors. I’ll be right back.” I’m grateful for the chance to step away, clear my head, and give other body parts a chance to relax. But her presence follows me all the way to the restaurant. And again, I wish we had met under different circumstances. I pay for the food and walk back. Her gaze is on me as I exit the place. Her shoulders drop as if she was watching the door the whole time.

She unlocks the doors as I approach, and I put the bag of food in the back seat. The vehicle immediately fills with the smell of fries.

Ava shifts to look in the back seat, inhales deeply, and licks her lips with a soft hum. I fix my gaze on her mouth—the sexy sound she made skips my ears and goes straight to my loins. So much for relaxing body parts. I start to click my seat belt when she looks back at me.

She tucks a curl behind her ear. “And then, after the Army, you became a cop?”

What? Army? Cop? Oh, she’s picking up the conversation where we left off. I miss the seat belt on my first try like I’m a green boy on his first date.

I back out of the parking spot. “After the Army, I went to college for Criminal Justice, then the police academy.”

“How long have you been a detective?”

“Three years as a detective. Before that, I was in the force for seven years.” She’s full of questions I’d normally evade, but the longer we talk, the more I want to open up to her. There’s a sense of familiarity like I’ve met her before. But I know I didn’t. I would not forget a woman like her.

Her head tilts, brows scrunched, and lips parted. “How old are you?”

I hesitate. I feel so much older than the seven-year difference between us. Ava’s untarnished, and I’m too jaded. “Thirty-five.” Some days, the weight of time pushes down on me with crippling pressure. Today is not one of those days.

“You’ve been in the protect-and-serve business for nearly half of your life. You look younger than thirty-five.” She bites her bottom lip and nods her assessment.

Cheese on crackers, as my grandfather used to say, so as not to take the Lord’s name in vain. I lower the AC temperature and move the vent toward my lap.Just keep driving, Jake. Just keep driving.

She crosses her legs, and one calf peeks through the slit in her dress. “Where are we going?”

I make a left into the State Park. “We’re here.”

She leans forward, looking at her surroundings. “A park?”

There are joggers, people walking dogs, kids playing ball and throwing Frisbees on the grass. I drive farther through an access road, deeper into the woods, to a place I like to come to when I need to get away and think. I find a spot under the shade of a tree, turn off the ignition, and get the food. Then I open my door, wait for her to get out, and then lock it. The loud beep is a dissonant sound in the quiet rustle of trees and singing birds.

I point into the woods and away from the trails. “There’s a picnic table just ahead. We can eat and talk there.”

She walks next to me beneath the trees. The breeze flutters the skirt around her legs and molds the fabric to her curves. The green apple scent makes another appearance. I suppress a groan. I’ll never be able to look at or smell a green apple again and not be turned on.

“Watch your step.” I gesture at a spot on the ground where tree roots crisscross the ground, making it uneven. She almost trips and takes my hand to steady herself. A zing of awareness ricochets throughout my entire body. The hairs on my arms stand to attention. They aren’t the only things on my body trying to stand. Her fingers flex, and her breath catches. Did she also get hit with the same jolt of electricity?

She snatches her hand away. “It’s so beautiful and peaceful here. It feels like I’m miles away from everything.”

Tall bushes and taller trees hide us. There’s no official trail to this spot. I have never run into someone else while in this particular area.

“Here, just after this bush.” I move the foliage so she can get through. She steps around me, and I follow her. She walks in a circle, taking everything in.

The clearing by the lake is small and completely hidden from any paths. Only someone on a canoe would be able to see us, and the park stops access to the lake after 5:00 p.m.

I sit at the weathered picnic table and set the food bag on the wooden top.

Ava walks to the water’s edge. “How did you even find this place? Wait! This is the place you came to as a kid with your grandfather.”

My head snaps up, and a chill runs down my spine. “How did you know?”

“It’s the same place from my vision with your grandfather. There are more trees and bushes, and the water’s edge looks smaller, but I recognize it.”

I want to ask more questions about what she saw when I gave her the rock, but I acted like an asshole then, and I don’t want to remind her of that.

She picks up a rock and tosses it at the water with a flick of the wrist. The stone skips once, twice, three times before sinking to the bottom. She brushes her hands off. Tilts her face to the sun, eyes closed, lips parted.

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