Six weeks earlier
“You were a spook?” Angela asked, glancing up from her plate.
Jake’s eyes seemed to look right through her. “Sort of. I worked for the CIA in a related line of work.”
“Sounds mysterious.”
“Not the adjective I’d choose. It was all covert ops, and definitely not as romantic as Hollywood makes it seem.” He stared into space. “It’s a damn lonely life.”
“Is that why it’s hard for you to get close to people?”
His eyes jerked back to hers. “Look who’s talking,” he answered brusquely.
Her chin came up. “How nice to discover we have something so wonderful in common.”
“Yeah, great.” He stabbed a bite of swordfish and jammed it into his mouth.
Angela sighed. She’d been walking on eggshells all day because of Jake’s dark mood. Her attempts to cheer him up had been futile. He had refused to admit anything was wrong when she inquired so she’d been left with simply trying to keep the atmosphere neutral.
She nibbled on a fried shrimp while she scanned the restaurant. Anthony’s Fish Grotto was situated on the Embarcadero with a fantastic view of San Diego Bay and Coronado. She and Jake were regulars and enjoyed the people-watching as well as the great food.
“I’m sorry,” Jake said, laying his hand palm up on the table. “Forgive me?”
Her attention swung back to him. She laid her hand in his, and he gave it a firm squeeze.
“No need to apologize. There’s some truth to what you said. I don’t get close to people easily. I have a lot of acquaintances, but few friends.”
“And I can count my friends on one hand,” he said.
“What about all the cops and deputies you know?”
“Acquaintances. Professional contacts. They really know nothing about… Which reminds me. I owe them a barbecue. I do one every summer. Will you help me by playing hostess?”
“Sure, but…” Her gaze shifted to the windows.
“But what?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me,” he said sternly.
Men. They were so dense sometimes. Angela contemplated the best response. There wasn’t one.
“I don’t want people to get the wrong impression,” she said.
“About what?”
She rolled her eyes. “About us. Our relationship.”
“Why do you care what they think of our relationship? This must be a chick thing.”
“It probably is. So never mind.” She took a long drink of her iced tea and pointed with her pinky. “Can you believe the purple shirt that man is wearing?”
“Oh, no you don’t. You’re not getting out of this that easy. Hell, what is our relationship?”
She carefully laid her fork on the table, folded her napkin, and tucked it under the edge of the plate. Eggshells crunched loudly all around her. She had tried so hard all day to avoid a confrontation, but now it seemed inevitable.
Drawing a fortifying breath, she plunged in. “We’re friends, good friends. We’re dating. We enjoy each other’s company. No strings, no commitments, no promises—”
“No sex,” he interrupted, his voice angry. “Is that the part of the ‘impression’ you’re worried about? That they’ll think we’re having sex? If it’ll make you feel better, I can make an announcement that we’re not fucking each other.”
Trying to hide the hurt, Angela pushed back her chair and stood up. “I need to stop in the ladies’ room. I’ll meet you outside.” She heard him curse under his breath as she walked away.
In the restroom, she stared into the mirror. She would not cry. It wouldn’t help or change a thing. She loved Jake, but he didn’t love her. He never would. Did she want that to ruin their time together? No. She wanted every minute before he disappeared from her life to be special.
She managed to smile at her reflection. She was so much stronger now than when they’d first met. Not only was her sexuality slowly returning, she was emotionally stronger as well. Her relationship with Jake—however it was described, whatever it entailed—was a positive one she would look back on with gratitude and satisfaction.
Jake was waiting for her on the sidewalk in front of the Corvette’s parking space when she came out of the restaurant. He turned and greeted her with a serious expression. He caught her arm as she walked by and pulled her against him. He embraced her with the side of his head leaning against hers.
“We’re a couple, Angela,” he whispered in her ear. “An exclusive, committed couple. Damn, I hope I got the terms right. And sex or no sex, I don’t want to be with anyone but you.”
* * *
A week later, fifty or so people were partying in Jake’s backyard: eating, drinking, talking, laughing. The pool offered a welcome respite on the hot day, and many guests were taking advantage of the refreshing water. The delicious aroma of barbecued ribs, teriyaki chicken, and hamburgers permeated the air.
Angela had been happily mingling. She’d worked her way around the yard, back to the grill where Jake had been stationed, cooking for the last two hours. The rest of the food was catered, but he’d insisted on grilling the meat himself. A male thing, she assumed.
But the man standing at the grill now wasn’t Jake.
“Hi, I’m Kent Smithson, detective, Coronado PD,” the man said, extending his hand.
Everyone at the party included their department and rank as part of their introduction.
She smiled and shook the offered hand. “Angela Reardon, owner, Heavenly Interiors.”
He chuckled. “Sorry about that. I’m afraid we don’t shed our law enforcement persona easily,” he said, waving the barbecue utensil at the surrounding group.
“I’m certainly getting a more up-close-and-personal insight into those who choose to serve and protect than I’ve ever had. All of you are so…so interesting.”
“‘Interesting’?” Kent laughed. “What a diplomatic word.”
Her cheeks warmed. “I didn’t mean it to be derogatory.”
“I know. I just think ‘crazy’ might be a better description. You have to be a little crazy to be a cop.”
She smiled, instinctively liking the man. “And what’s a little insanity among friends?”
“True.”
“I’m looking for Jake. Have you seen him recently?”
Kent’s gaze dropped instantly to the grill. “Uh, Stone handed me the tongs a few minutes ago. Said he had something urgent he needed to do.”
Angela glanced toward the house just as Jake led a tall, voluptuous redhead inside through the patio door. They were holding hands. She noticed several guests watching the couple, and when the pair disappeared from sight, those eyes refocused on her. A prickly sensation ran down her spine.
“Thanks. Nice to meet you, Kent.”
“You, too, Angela,” he said without looking at her.
She strolled closer to the house, to where she could see Jake and the woman talking to others in the kitchen. After a few minutes, still holding hands, they exited down the hallway toward the front of the house.
“Her name is Tanya Neal. An old, very hot, flame.”
Angela spun around and bumped into the man behind her who had spoken. He caught her shoulders to steady her. Before releasing her, he massaged gently.
“You must be Angela. I’m Ryan Brown, detective, San Diego PD.” He smiled insolently, returning his gaze from the house to her. His pale blue eyes were intimidating.
“Yes, I’m Angela. Glad to meet you, Ryan.”
The icy eyes seemed to assault hers, and she looked away nervously.
“Do you want to know more about Stone and Tanya?”
“No. I don’t like gossip.”
He snorted. “You know, there’s a lot of gossip today…about you.”
“That’s to be expected, I guess. I am the newcomer.” She sighed. “It’s just that gossip can be so unkind.”
“Unkind, but often true. There’s a pool running.”
“A pool?”
“Yeah, you know, the one who guesses closest to the date wins.”
Angela peered at him with apprehension. “The date for what?”
“You honestly don’t know, sweetheart?”
She shook her head.
A sneer curled his lips. His gaze bounced off her cleavage, swept down her bikini-clad body, and returned with a leering gleam. He stepped beside her and draped an arm casually across her shoulders. Ryan chuckled when she stiffened.
“The date Stone breaks up with you, of course.”
Angela jerked away and faced him, eyes blazing. “That’s rude and cruel.”
“Just a friendly warning, sweetheart. We’ve known Stone a lot longer than you have.”
She turned on her heels and marched quickly toward the house. A sharp pain pinched her chest. She felt the burn of eyes on her back. Ignoring the questioning looks, she rushed in the patio door, hurried through the kitchen, and trotted down the hallway.
She wanted to be alone, to tamp down her anger, to compose herself. The powder room off the hallway was occupied. She tried the door to the study; it was locked. Crossing the foyer, she scurried through the other hallway to the office. Also locked.
Then she remembered Jake saying he would “lock down the house” during the party for security reasons. But the meaning hadn’t been clear. Apparently, his customized security system had yet another special feature that allowed him to lock individual rooms. She groaned.
Leaning her forehead against the office door, she closed her eyes and breathed slowly. How could a complete stranger say such a hateful thing? It wasn’t a “friendly warning” at all. It was full of scorn and contempt. She wasn’t going to believe it. She grimaced and clenched her teeth.
Just a few days ago, Jake had described their relationship as an exclusive, committed couple. She loved Jake. She trusted him. Didn’t she?
Pushing away from the door, she walked back to the foyer. She glanced up the stairs and saw no one. Space to be alone. With each step, the lump in her throat seemed to grow larger until she could hardly swallow at the top of the staircase. Without stopping, she headed right and found the doors to the master bedroom closed.
Please don’t be locked. Please.
Two voices—male and female—drifted out from the bedroom. The talking stopped abruptly when Angela turned the doorknob. Locked.
“Who is it?” Jake called from inside.
She clamped a hand across her mouth.
“I’ll be out in a little while. Catch me then,” he added.
And she fled down the stairs.
* * *
“You’re not at all what I expected. Definitely not Stone’s standard MO.”
Angela steadied her nerves before she looked up at the woman. She was tall, brunette, thirty-something. The lean, muscular body her bikini revealed showed the results of many hours of hard workouts. Her hazel eyes peered at Angela with no-nonsense intensity. Cop, for sure.
“You look like you could use this,” the woman said, pushing a glass at her. “Hope you like Scotch.”
“Not usually, but right now it sounds good.” She accepted the glass and sipped gingerly. “Thanks. I’m Angela Reardon, but I guess you already know that.”
“I wouldn’t be much of a cop if I didn’t. I’m Bonnie O’Grady, San Diego County Sheriff’s deputy.” Instead of extending her hand, Bonnie dropped onto the loveseat next to Angela and glanced around. They were the only people in the formal living room. “So, how did you and Stone hook up?” She took a long drag of her drink.
Angela sipped again. The liquor burned her throat, and she coughed. “Jake hired me to do some interior decorating.” She kept her head down and her answer brief, hoping Bonnie would get the message and leave.
“And the rest is history,” the deputy quipped.
She cringed and drank again. Yes, they might be history.
Bonnie lowered her head so she could look up into Angela’s face. “You got it bad for him, don’t you, honey?” Their eyes met, held. She shook her head. “I remember how it felt.”
Angela’s eyes widened. “You and Jake?”
“Yeah. Hey, don’t look so surprised.” Bonnie’s eyes sparkled as she laughed. “He’s a great guy and an even greater lover. But I don’t have to tell you that.” Angela averted her gaze. “Problem is, he’s a rolling stone.”
“As in ‘gathers no moss’?”
“Yup. Ask any woman here.”
“I’d rather not. I don’t think I want to hear this.” She started to stand, but the deputy caught her arm.
“Honey, wait. Forewarned is forearmed.”
“You’re just full of delightful sayings, aren’t you? Look, my relationship with Jake is none of your or anyone else’s business.”
Bonnie held up her hands in surrender. “Hey, sister, I’m not a buttinsky. I just thought I could save you some pain since I’ve known Jake for years, and I’ve seen lots of women come and go.”
“What’s your invaluable advice?”
“My advice is worth what you pay for it, honey, which means it ain’t worth shit.” She smiled. “Hey, another great saying.”
Angela groaned and drained her Scotch.
Bonnie stared into her glass as if contemplating what to say. She finished her drink and set the glass on an end table. “Jake was the best thing that ever happened to me. When we—no, he—broke it off, I thought I’d be crushed, but I wasn’t. Even as he left, he made me feel special, and he accepted all the blame for the breakup. Called himself ‘an unlovable monster.’ That was a couple of years ago.
“Of course, I knew his reputation and that his relationships rarely lasted more than a month or two. Somehow, he pulls off the friend thing afterward. To this day, we can laugh and joke with no animosity. Do I wish it had lasted forever?” She paused, twisted her lips. “You know, I’m not sure. And I think just about every woman here would tell you the same thing.”
“Oh God, you don’t mean—”
“Well, not ‘every’ but…” Bonnie shrugged.
Angela slumped against the cushions. “So you’re saying not to expect too much from him.”
“Yeah, a little of that, but mostly I’m saying love Stone for who and what he is. If you can do that, you won’t have any regrets.”
Feeling the buzz of the Scotch, Angela rubbed her forehead. “That man, Ryan Brown, said some awful things.”
Bonnie swore softly. “Brown’s a bastard. He tries to pick up Stone’s women on the rebound, but no one ever wants him after they’ve had the big guy.”
The two were silent for several minutes, each lost in thought. Angela’s thoughts included the voices in the bedroom. “Tell me about Tanya Neal.”
Bonnie looked surprised, then cautious. She scratched her head. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Like you, Tanya isn’t Stone’s standard MO. They first hooked up about four years ago, broke up a year later, and have gotten back together at least twice that I know of. She’s with the DA’s office. Smart. Ambitious. Some said Stone was pussy-whipped in the relationship. Don’t know if it’s true, but there’s something there, some magnetism, that keeps pulling them back together.”
Unshed tears stung Angela’s eyes. “Damn it, Bonnie, I don’t want to lose him. What can I do?”
The woman laid a hand on Angela’s shoulder. “Honey, Stone’s his own man. I don’t know if there’s anything you can do. Rolling stone, remember? Just love him while ya got him. It’s worth it.” She patted Angela’s shoulder, stood up, and left to rejoin the party going strong outside.
Angela stared at the ceiling and swallowed hard. Then she smiled. Bonnie’s advice reflected what she’d been telling herself for a long time now.
She stopped at the bar in the family room and poured another Scotch before heading outside. She wasn’t surprised when Ryan Brown instantly appeared at her elbow. Drinking the Scotch, which tasted better and better, she tried to ignore him to no avail.
“Hey, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to piss you off. Just thought someone should warn you.”
“You seemed to derive a perverse pleasure in warning me.”
“Perverse? I’m not the pervert here.” He snaked an arm around her bare waist and sidled closer. “Unless you want me to be,” he whispered against her ear. His breath reeked of liquor.
“Let go of me, Detective Brown.”
“Now the little lady’s going all formal on me. Listen, sweet cheeks, when Stone dumps you, I’ve got a warm spot for you in my bed. I gotta give Stone credit for that. He’s always been generous with his hand-me-downs.”
Angela’s elbow rammed into his gut. He grunted and released her.
“Shit. I’m just being friendly, sweetheart. You’re gonna want a friend to ease your pain when Tanya gets her claws into your man again.”
A nasty look slid across his face, but she hardly noticed. Her attention shot to the patio door.
Jake stepped outside. Alone. He tugged at the front of his swim trunks as if they were binding his groin. He scanned the backyard until his gaze landed on Angela and Ryan. He frowned but tried to hide it with a quick jerk of his head in greeting.
“Hot damn, Stone must’ve fucked Tanya so hard she needs time to recuperate,” Ryan slurred in Angela’s ear.
Her slap caught the cop completely off guard. The crack of skin on skin seemed to echo off the hillsides. Heads turned. Eyes stared.
Jake crossed the patio with rapid strides. He pushed Ryan away from Angela and stepped between them, his back to the detective.
“You all right, babe?” Jake asked.
“Yes,” she replied, avoiding his probing eyes.
“What’s going on?” he said through clenched teeth, slanting a glare over his shoulder at Ryan.
“Nothing.”
He scowled at her. “You just felt like slapping one of my guests for no reason.”
“It was a simple misunderstanding—” Ryan began.
“Shut up, prick,” Jake hissed under his breath.
“Shove it up your cheating ass—”
Jake whirled around and sent Ryan sprawling with a jaw-crunching punch.
Kent Smithson appeared out of nowhere. “I heard Detective Brown was just leaving. I’d be glad to show him to his car.” He grabbed Ryan’s arm, wrenched him off the ground, and escorted the red-faced man into the house.
An awkward silence hung over the crowd.
“Show’s over, everybody. Last one drunk has to clean up after the party,” Jake shouted.
Slowly, people turned away, conversations restarted. Undoubtedly, the new topic was speculation on what had just happened.
“C’mon.” Jake clutched Angela’s hand and led her into the house.
She didn’t resist, didn’t speak. Her heart was pounding too hard.
He led her upstairs, but when he turned toward the master bedroom, Angela put on the brakes.
“No.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, puzzled.
“I don’t want to…go in there.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to…see her.”
“Her?” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Aw, shit. It was you at the door.”
Angela’s knees threatened to buckle. She wobbled over to a recliner in the library alcove and collapsed onto it. She buried her face in her hands. Jake knelt in front of her.
“I’m sorry for embarrassing you. But I can’t go in there and face that woman.”
“You saw me with Tanya?”
“Yes.”
“Did someone tell you who she is?”
“Two people. Ryan and Bonnie.”
“I can imagine what filth Brown had to say, but not Bonnie.”
“No, no. She didn’t say anything negative. Bonnie was very nice.”
“Yeah, she’s good people. Look at me, Angela.” He tenderly stroked her hair until she lowered her hands. “Ask me anything you want about Tanya.”
“What were you two doing in the bedroom?”
Hurt and disappointment flooded his eyes.
“Damn it, I didn’t fuck her. I can’t believe you think I did. You still don’t trust me.” He shook his head and blew out his breath. “Tanya asked to talk to me. In private. She wanted us to get back together again. She was planning to spend the night.”
Angela’s eyes asked him what her lips couldn’t.
“Shit. What do you think I said? Not no, but hell no. I told her I’m in the best relationship of my life. With you, Angela. You.” He took both her hands and squeezed them tightly between his. “Tanya Neal doesn’t take ‘no’ very well. She was mad as hell. She’s not in the bedroom. Tanya left, and she won’t be back.”