CHAPTER 5
A long pause stood between them before Blake finally gave in and gave up on trying to control her reaction to what he knew was more than a prank.
“I’m staying the night,” he insisted, heading for the house.
With her cat under her arm, she was quick to follow, and protest. “Uh, no, you’re not.”
When he ignored her, she tried again. “Blake, I’m serious…you aren’t staying the night. Not an option.”
Blake went straight through the living room and through the front door, pulling it closed behind him. Scratching her cat’s head, she leaned against the door and let out a sigh of relief. It was bad enough she had to call him for help – having him sleeping over was worse.
Not only was he bossy and demanding, he was hot as hell, and all three qualities bugged the shit out of her. He made it hard to hate him with all his pushy, macho, let me protect you
, bullshit that made him so desirable and charming. She didn’t want to find him desirable…or charming…but he was making it hard. She was a strong, independent woman, who fought her demons alone for years. She didn’t need a man to fight them for her, even if this
man reeked of hot, sweaty sin of the all night, sexy variety.
She shook her head, clearing her thoughts, erasing the part where Blake and sexy combined. He was an asshole
, she told herself. A dictator, even – he was practically a terrorist with his cocky, do it my way, the world is mine to protect
crap that he was constantly acting on.
Suddenly, she was thrust from the door when it opened behind her with a little more force than just opening it would require. She face planted into the wall, flinging her cat across the entry when she lost her balance. What the…
“Were you trying to hold the door closed so I couldn’t come in?” Blake asked, confused by the force the door required and Jessie’s wall hug.
“No, jerk. Don’t you know how to knock? I was leaning against it until you shoved
me into the wall.”
“Why were you leaning against it if not to keep me out? Why not just use the lock?”
“Touché. Why didn’t
I use the lock? It’s normal for people to just…let themselves into my house in the middle of the night.”
“I told you that I was staying over.”
“And, I said you weren’t, and then you left.”
He grinned, happy to rile her up, and held up his dog. “Had to get Baby. She can’t sleep outside all night in my truck.”
“Your dog? Nooooo. She can’t stay here either. Flea doesn’t like dogs…or other animals…or people
who aren’t me.”
“Well, I wonder where he learned that? They’ll be fine. If you don’t make a big deal about it, the dog and cat won’t.” He sat on the couch and put Baby on the ground while he unlaced his boots.
“What are you doing? Tie those back up; you aren’t…” she paused when he removed his belt and slid out of his shoulder holster. “Blake, you’re not staying! Put all of that back…on. I swear if you take off your shirt, I’ll shoot you with your own gun!”
With his head tilted to one side, his raised eyebrow matched the curl in his lip. “You know, ladies don’t usually tell me to put my clothes back on.”
Then, he continued to ignore her and fluffed a couple of throw pillows before grabbing the blanket off the end of the couch, tossing it out the length of the couch, unfolding it over his long legs.
“Are you serious?” she asked with a high-pitched squeak.
“About the ladies?” He knew exactly what she was referring to, but getting her riled brought him an odd sense of joy.
“About…” Her jaw dropped when he tossed his arms behind his head and crossed his ankles – this guy really was staying.
“Oh, forget it!” she ranted. “You’re impossible. A big…bully
! Let’s go, Flea.”
“Bully? That’s the best you got? Bully
? You’re Jessie Clarke…you invented ninety percent of the vulgar words of the world, and the best you could come up with was bully
?”
When her cat followed the dog, half his size, to the couch and snuggled in with Blake, she tossed her hands up in the air.
“You’re an ass
!” she said, pointing to Blake before shifting her attention to the animals, “And you two suck!”
His ornery smirk had her in fits. “Are you going to say anything?”
“Are you done?” When she nodded, he sat up, and proceeded. “You called me for a reason
, correct? Why?”
“Yes, you’re…the police.”
“I am…one of many officers. Yet, you
called me
. Not the backline to dispatch, not even 911. Me.”
“So?” With her arms crossed, she shot him a sharp glare, daring him to go on.
“Soooo
, you called me for a reason, Jess. You don’t have to tell me, but I am
staying. In the morning – with daylight – I’ll get a better look outside.”
“Then, come back in the morning.”
“Jessica…” He saw a slight shimmy when he used her full name. “Do you know who it was? Who was in your house? Who started a fire in your backyard?”
“And let my cat outside…” she added.
He rolled his eyes. “And let your cat outside? If you know or suspect – if there’s something I should know, tell me. Please.”
Blake didn’t really need her to answer any of those questions; he already had the answers. He needed her to tell him though. He needed her to share her story so he didn’t have to pretend that he was in the dark anymore. She was afraid for a reason, and he was there to protect her from it – so he gave her a chance to trust him and be honest with him.
She called him because she was afraid, and he didn’t blame her, given the terror she had lived through so many years ago. A terror that was coming for her. Jessie’s façade that she had spent nearly ten years building was in play. She was in self-preservation mode – it was either that or crumble – he could see it.
When vulnerability swept across her face, and her eyes wandered as if searching for answers, he thought she just might tell him. He could see her considering both sides, at battle with herself, trying to decide if she could trust him with something so delicate. Then, she stiffened, gave a subtle shake of her head like she was pushing everything on the surface back down. She wasn’t going to tell him.
Blake was a patient man. He wouldn’t push her. Her brave front was back, despite being petrified as she should be. Jessie would tell him when and if she was ready. If he pushed too hard, she might figure out that he already knew, and how he found out would crush her. He had violated her privacy and, in a way, was lying by omission, at the very least.
It didn’t matter how good his intentions were. The way he went about looking into the pasts of those he cared so deeply about was wrong. But, it was also the only way he could truly protect any of them, whether they wanted him to or not. If he was honest with himself, it was more for him than them because loss and pain haunted him daily, and he would protect himself from it, as much as them, at any cost.
“No, nothing. I know…nothing,” she said, fearful of what he might think of her if she shared her truth. If he knew her secret. The steely, tough girl front was back in place as she straightened.
But, she almost made a mistake when she said, “If I…knew
, I’d take care of him myself.
“Him?” Another opportunity to get her to share, but she recovered quickly.
“Whoever…him…her…whatever. Goodnight, Blake.” Jessie disappeared down the hallway and slammed her door for good measure.
She wasn’t ready. She may never be ready
, Blake thought. Jessie had called him for help, so it wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. It was that sharing her secret was like reliving it, and her past was a heavy burden she didn’t wish on anyone. Blake could relate to that more than anyone. It’s why he kept his own secrets.
Blake would carry that burden for her – as long as she needed him to. In the meantime, he would watch for anything out of the ordinary, any potential threat, and guard her from it. Even if she thought he hadn’t a clue what or who he was protecting her from. Like tonight when someone had let himself in her house, lit a fire to taunt her, a silent but real threat. It was just in his nature to take care of those around him – he wouldn’t fail this time. He would redeem himself one way or another and, hopefully, overcome the guilt he carried and never let down those he cared about most.
He wouldn’t let Jessie down. Blake made a silent vow not to rest until the bastard who’d hurt her, wanted to hurt her, was back in jail. Or…dead
.