Chapter 6
Despite how uncomfortable she was, Watson didn't want to move. A light breeze played with her hair and the sun shone brightly. Even the air seemed fresher somehow. She wanted to blame it on the full night's rest or something equally inane, but when she looked up, she know the tranquility she felt could only be attributed to one man.
The man sleeping in what appeared to be a very uncomfortable position in the backseat of her car. The light hit his features at a perfect angle, highlighting everything about his face that had recently begun to make her toes curl and her body shiver. She wasn't sure when these feelings started to develop, but she was now certain that she couldn't run from them.
Not after the night before, not after she let her guard down just for a moment and was sweetly rewarded by kisses that were still making her body tingle. She was afraid to move because she didn’t want Turner to wake up. He was a light sleeper and appeared to be in deep slumber. Watson thought the slightest movement would force them both to disentangle from each other, which she was not quite ready to do. She relaxed again, letting the warmth of being in Eric Turner's arms take over again.
She traced the buttons on his vest; thinking how she had always wanted to feel the softness of the material, but never thought she would have the opportunity to do it. It should have scared her that she was so enthralled by every aspect of his man, but it didn’t.
It was as if the night before, with his attentiveness and concern for her, that the advisor broke the last barrier Watson had against him and now she was at his mercy and found herself liking it. She enjoyed that he worried about her, wanted to make her smile, and always in his own way thought of her whenever they were at a crime scene.
She never noticed it before, but it was interesting how much a person could miss when they fixated on one aspect. As she thought about it, everything over the last few months had made complete and utter sense. His lingering on the couch until she was ready to go home almost every night. His creative apologies for antics on the job, his flirty glances, all culminating in one realization.
She trusted him and she always had. She had just always been afraid to face that possibility. After everything that happened last night, the kiss, the conversation, the way she'd let him hold and lull her to sleep, it all underscored just how much she trusted the man laying beside her.
Even if it took a near break down to make her realize it.
He spent several hours in a cramped backseat of an SUV, dead to the world, and it was proof of the comfort the woman in his arms instilled in him.
Turner rarely slept through the night anymore, but somehow with the vivacious woman peacefully slumbering with her limbs wrapped around him, he didn’t care about the car door biting into his back or the unnatural position of his legs, because she was finally sleeping.
He was still a very light sleeper, so when Natalie woke up, no matter how careful she wanted to be, he opened his eyes. He wanted to stretch or pull her closer, but for some reason his body was paralyzed. He remained still, waiting to see what she would do, already realizing she had no plans to shift or do anything that would give her away. However, when her small fingers reached out to finger the button on his vest, the urge to take her hand in his and give her a proper good morning became overwhelming.
He didn’t let himself dwell too much on the previous night, over the enormity of it, the extent to which he knew it would undoubtedly change things between them. He didn’t want to confront the doubt in the back of his head that reminded him of the journey he still had to complete, even with Natalie by his side. He didn’t want to think about how much his obsession with Red River Killer could ultimately drive a wedge between them.
All he wanted to do was run his fingers through her hair and pull her closer, letting her know that he didn’t regret a single second of their night spent together and that if he had to do it all over again, he'd only kiss her sooner.
The first touch of his fingertips against her cheek made Watson flinch and he felt a heat spread on her skin that makes him smile. He knew she didn’t like to be caught off guard, but man was it a pleasure of his to see the slightly annoyed but amused look on her face when he did something unexpected.
"Hi." She said almost bashfully, meeting his eyes with anything but annoyance.
"Beautiful morning," Turner smiles, his hand still stroking her cheek, "isn't it?"
"The best," Watson murmured, before snuggling further into his chest, inhaling the remnants of cologne on his clothes. Turner had to physically restrain himself from mounting her when she stretched against him, and as if sensing the building tension, Natalie slowly slid off him and sat up.
It didn’t really quell his desire, because as soon as he clearly saw her sleepy green eyes, hair curling slightly at the ends, the shirt she was wearing ride up just the perfect amount, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, and maybe do other things.
Watson felt his eyes on her and it brought a strange sense of empowerment. After her revelation, it felt like every move Turner made was just a confirmation of what she's known all along. It gave her a strange sense of anticipation and comfort, knowing she hadn't thrown her heart out on the line for nothing. She hadn't butchered a slightly dysfunctional, but very effective working relationship for a few kisses and a peaceful night of sleep.
"You okay?" He asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.
"Yeah, I am." Watson nodded, her hand reaching out to squeeze his, "I honestly haven't slept so well in weeks, maybe months." Her admission should have been difficult, but it's wasn’t.
Her honesty earned Watson a wide smile, the one only reserved for her, paired with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. He leaned forward until they were face to face and she automatically sucked in her breath.
Everything about him intoxicated her, even up close. Now that she had a taste of him and learned what it was like to kiss and be kissed by Eric Turner, she only wanted more. As his gaze stopped at her mouth, she already prepared herself for his soft lips.
"You know what would make this even better?" Turner murmured, watching as she was almost hypnotized by his soft voice and warm breath against her face, "A really good breakfast, I'm starved."
Just like that, her eyes grew wide, her lips formmed into a mock frown, and she playfully shoved him, "Damn it, Turner."
He laughed heartily as Watson tried to hide her embarrassment, but she just shook her head, "that wasn't fair." She admitted, running her hands through her hair.
"If you think I'm not being fair, take a look at yourself before you start making accusations."
He had her blushing again from the subtle compliment. Others might have missed the innuendo in his voice, but with his look trained on her, admiring everything about her in a glance, Watson could't blame herself for squirming and blushing.
Eric Turner had many talents and one of them was that he could almost always get a rise out of her.
"Does this mean I can’t drive?" Turner asked, putting on his best groveling face.
It was Natalie's turn to laugh, as she slipped out of the car leaving the door open for him, "not a chance in Hell, Turner."
"I guess I'll have to work on my powers of persuasion." He said cheekily, but Watson was already behind the wheel when he moved to the front.
"You could definitely try," she replied back and Turner didn’t miss the flirty look in her eye.
“Oh I intend to," he promised before sliding his hand in hers.
She was just about to take the lasagna out of the oven when there was a knock on the door.
She set the dish down on the stove and stode over to the front door, and opened it to find Turner leaning against her doorframe, a paper bag in his hand. He looked at her briefly before a smile spread over his face, "Your casual attire is killing me."
Natalie rolled her eyes, despite the heat spreading to her cheeks.
"Well, hello to you too Eric, would you like to come in?" She quipped back, trying to act nonchalant, even though the temperature in the room seemed to have risen since he stepped inside.
"No, seriously, first that damn jersey, now this?" He gestured to the shorts and tank top she wore.
"Would you like me to change?" She settled her hand on her hip and cocked her eyebrow at him, but he just shook his head and approached her slowly.
"Don't you dare," Turner said in a low voice and found immense pleasure in seeing her shiver beneath his gaze. He settled his hands on her hips then, liking the way Watson's hands automatically reclined against his chest, fingering the lapels of his jacket gently. It was nice to know his clothing inspired just as much curiosity in her as her lack of attire did in him.
"You're seriously torturing me, woman." Turner murmured against her neck, trailing his lips to the hollow of her throat.
Natalie let out something akin to a moan, but she could't be sure, considering how recently any contact with the had her head spinning and her thoughts in disarray. "Maybe I should make you feel better then," She suggested, her eyes boring into his as she raised on her tiptoes and captured his mouth in a kiss.
It had been about two weeks since they spent the night sleeping in the back of her SUV. Between work and other obligations, they had not spent as much time together as either of them would like.
He always waited for her to finish at work, walked her to her car, sometimes made playful comments or left lingering touches, but nothing had come close to the intimacy Watson was feeling right now. It occurred to her that she missed that, missed kissing him and just being around him without the weight of work obligations.
Although she was slightly worried that things were intensifying too quickly, Natalie indulged in the soft way his tongue traced her lower lip and the way his hands created delicate trails of fire across her skin, through the thin material of her tank top. Turner eventually released her and rested his forehead against hers.
"I missed you too," he announced and she shook her head again, loose curls framing her face.
"I didn't even say anything."
"You were thinking it though."
Natalie just smiled, moving away from him and to the kitchen, hips sashaying as he watched her saunter into the other room. For the first time since coming in, Eric smelled the rich aroma coming from the kitchen and grinned in triumph when he realized she had made dinner for them.
"Hope you like lasagna". Watson called from the kitchen and his smile broadened.
"I wouldn't be human if I didn't."
She turned around then, giving him a bright grin and a wink. Turner conceded that he also wouldn't be human if the vision in front of him didn't somehow warm his heart, despite the many beatings it had sustained. They ate facing each other on the couch, sharing a plate between their laps.
It was messy and childish, but as Natalie fed Turner bits of noodles, she could’t help but think how easy all of this was. Just a few weeks ago she was reluctant to let him see her apartment, but now it seemed that the newfound trust she had for him had made everything easier between them. Even his smile had less of an edge to it.
"What are you thinking about?" He asked in a quiet voice, his eyes watching her contemplation with calming ease. She thought he already knew what was on her mind but didn’t want to ruin the moment.
"Just wondering if you own anything other than three-piece suits. It does get hot here occasionally."
The teasing in her tone made him laugh a little bit, "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Before she could reply, he put the fork to her lips and found that Natalie retaliated by wrapping her mouth around the utensil and running her tongue across her lower lip after she chewed. The entire time, her green eyes were trained on him and Turner didn’t realize how exciting lasagna could be.
As much as both of them tried to keep work out of the conversation, it didn’t turn out quite that way. They spent most of their dinner talking about a recent case, bouncing ideas off each other while a bad reality television show played in the background.
When Natalie hit on a possible lead, he watched her entire body react to the prospect of catching a suspect. Her green eyes sparkled and she bit her lower lip in concentration, while sitting straight up with her naked legs crossed, as if inviting him to pull her closer.
He wondered if she realized that the high and satisfaction she got from her job were not unlike the rush he got when a new possible lead on Red River Killer materialized.
The idea made him smile, because despite the sinister plans he had for the serial murderer and the fact that it could very well damage the relationship with Natalie at any moment, it gave Turner comfort to know they were not that different from each other. Different method and intention, but the purpose was the same: catch the bad guy.
He was well aware that they differed on this aspect, but in this moment, he didn’t care, because he found another way to relate to the usually composed woman who currently had sauce on her chin.
He chuckled in spite himself and Natalie broke out of her reverie, "What are you laughing at?" she looked annoyed for a second, but Turner reached over and playfully licked the spot on her chin then crashed his mouth on hers, finally giving up the battle with restraint.
Natalie caught her breath, but welcomed his kiss and his sudden weight on top of her. Her legs unconsciously fell apart and Turner settled between her hips, thinking only momentarily about the danger of their predicament.
He didn’t know if he could stop now, but the taste of her lips, the smell of her perfume, and how domestic this all is makes him not want to stop at all, not even consider the consequences of letting himself indulge too much in her company.
Turner's hands slid down from her hip to her bare thigh and the sensations he inspired in her threatened to snap all her self-control. Each touch was like a lick of fire, warm and close to burning, but not quite. It ignited delicious flames all over her body, making her react to his kisses more fervently, making the anticipation in her stomach intensify impossibly quickly.
Her rational side won and Watson breaks the kiss, resting her forehead against Turner's as she raked her fingers through his red curls, having wanted to do that so long. "You should come over for dinner more often." She breathed heavily against his lips and he closed his eyes, his unsuccessful duel with control made her giddy.
There was something to be said for making a composed and self-assured man like Eric Turner transform into a desire-crazed bundle of hormones and Natalie took infinite pleasure in seeing him squirm.
Eventually though he opened his eyes. They were back to their impish cobalt shine and he gently moved away from her, "You say that now and yet you still haven't inquired about the dessert I brought." He motioned knowingly to the paper bag sitting on the kitchen table.
"Dessert?" Her eyes went wide, followed by a genuinely goofy smile.
"Yeah, the chocolate kind." He winked at her, knowing full well how much of a guilty pleasure chocolate was for her. She squealed uncharacteristically, jumped off the couch and opened the bag.
She smiled more profoundly when she saw the big slice of chocolate cake looking very appealing from inside the clear container. Watson was once again reminded that the man lounging on her couch like he belonged there knew more about her than she would usually like.
She looked up and sees the look of adoration on his handsome face and her fears of what the outside world might have in store for them dissipated just a little bit. Just enough for her to retrieve a fork from the kitchen and sit back on the couch, sinking the utensil into the cake and offering the first bite to him.
When Turner accepted the dessert, it was Natalie's turn to ponder on how Turner could turn eating into an art form, a very sensual art form at that. She swallowed and said, "I thought you said you'd never seduce me over a meal."
Turner stopped chewing and smirked, reaching over to tuck a loose strand of chestnut hair behind her ear, "Who said anything about seduction, Natalie?" He leaned over and gave her a bite of cake, "when I seduce you, and I plan to. Trust me, you won't be questioning it."
Usually, such a pompous comment would irritate the hell out of Watson, but when it came from Turner, it just made the heat in her belly spread through her entire body. It's crazy that he could have her entire system on edge just from a few words, but he managed to accomplish it quite frequently.
It should bother her, but it didn’t. She just continued eating, albeit smiling playfully at him as she did. They sat for a while in silence, sharing dessert as Turner flipped through the channels, finally deciding on a black and white Civil War film.
The characters were interchangeable and the story lacked a substantial plot, but it reminded Eric of his childhood, the incessant blaring of the television at all hours of the night as his mother sat transfixed in front of it, the only activity that seemed to subdue her bouts of insomnia.
Turner was so transfixed by the picture playing on the TV, Watson touched his shoulder gently, afraid to startle him. He appeared to be in a trance and the myriad of emotions playing on his face when he looked at her made her frown, her mind racing through possibilities of what could have triggered such a drastic mood change. "You alright?" she asked softly, afraid to disturb the moment.
"Yeah, just thinking about how my mother used to love these types of movies."
He wasn't sure why he admitted it, why the prospect of opening up to Watson didn’t seem like such a scary or intimidating thought, but when the look of concern deepened on her face, Turner almost regretted it.
"Oh, well tell me about it. Did she have a particular favorite?"
She wanted to ease into the conversation smoothly, knowing there were some things that were a forbidden topic of conversation for Turner. Turner reached out and his thumb brushed the apple off her cheek as she watched him,
"Maybe another time, okay?"
It killed him to deny her request, but he was terrified of unleashing something that took him a long time to accept. He hoped she understood.
Watson nodded, trying to internalize her disappointment, but Turner saw right through it.
"How about I do the dishes then?"
She couldn't deny the smile playing on his lips and the warmth of his palm against her face, "Well I should think you would, considering I slaved over dinner."
"Yeah, it's only fair." Turner replied sarcastically, rolling up his shirtsleeves as he walked into the kitchen. Before he could sink his hands into the warm, soapy water, his cell phone rang from inside his jacket.
Watson wasn't sure what to think as he took the call in the kitchen, speaking in hushed tones and hanging up quickly. She never thought about Turner's life outside the PPB, what he did after he left work, or who he socialized with.
Before she could even contemplate it futher; he turned his phone off and reaches for the vest draped across the back of the couch.
"I have to go." He said, not explaining any further. Even though nothing had happened between them, watching him button up the vest and avoiding eye contact made her feel cheap and she didn’t respond to him.
She stood up and headed into the kitchen, turning on the water to override the tension-filled silence in the room. Turner felt an overwhelming sense of guilt about his secrecy, but he knew he could't share this piece of his life with Watson yet.
He could't deny that her presence in his life, her constant support and risk taking on his behalf, had had a major influence on his recent decisions, but he could't let her in until he's certain that he wouldn't hurt her. The justification propelled him forward, as he slipped on his jacket and walked into the kitchen. He pulled her against him gently, knowing she probably didn’t want to be coddled into understanding at that point.
"You have to go." She said somewhat coldly, but Turner persisted.
"I know. I wish I didn't have to, but it's something I have to take care of."
She turned around in his arms then, running her slightly soapy hands through his hair. Turner didn’t mind. "I don't really like secrets, Eric."
She didn’t look him in the eye, just faced his chest, hoping her voice didn’t betray her worry. Turner didn’t really know what to say, so he tilted her chin and pulled her into a kiss that left her lips tingling long after he departed.
When he arrived home, he parked his car next to a mammoth white Range Rover occupying the second spot in front of the garage and shook his head.
"Eric! I'm glad we could meet." A tall redhead in a slick blue suit approached Turner before he even exited the car.
"I know it's a bit late, but I thought you'd want to know that the owners accepted your offer and if you sign a few documents, the property is yours."
"That's wonderful. Shall we, then?" Turner motioned to the front door of his house, and the real estate agent fished out the keys from his pocket. "They already moved out, so technically the place is ready for you now."
Turner didnt't say anything as they stepped into the house he was going to sell.
The real estate agent talked on and on about the advantages of acquiring such a home, but Turner just fixated on the loopy signature she made on each of the documents. After reviewing the paperwork and making sure everything was settled, he placed a duplicate key on the counter for her to take with her. Now he just needed her to sell his house.
He wondered wat it would be like to live in a home that didn’t have any remnants of his wife or daughter in it. Would he survive not being able to see the markings on the kitchen wall from where he would mark his baby's height from the time she could walk?
Turner walked out onto his balcony, praying for respite from the memories, but when his wedding ring caught his eye, it gave him the sinking feeling that he might not ever be able to let go of the past. No matter how far he moved away, no matter how many times he tried to outsmart Red River Killer, it felt like the guilt of his family's murder would always be his cross to bear and his burden. He wasn't sure if he was strong enough to fight it anymore.
When he closed his eyes, a flash of dark curls and green eyes appeared in his mind...it felt like he could almost breathe again.