As if sensing her growing unease, Joe wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gathered her close. She turned to him and rested her head against the muscular wall of his chest, grateful for the warmth and security his powerful body offered.
He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Why don’t you pack a bag? You can stay at my place tonight.”
Chapter 12
Pintowokethenextmorning with a crick in his neck from crashing on the couch.
After the lousy night Fiona had endured, he’d insisted she sleep in his bed. It didn’t take a genius to realize the break-in had rocked her sense of security. The least he could do was ensure she felt comfortable and safe while sleeping in a strange place.
The sun wouldn’t rise for another thirty minutes, but he could already hear the sounds of activity as his neighbors began a new day. Not that it ever got totally quiet at the apartment complex. There always seemed to be something going on, with people coming and going, doors slamming, kids running around, and cars driving in and out of the lot. Every so often, somebody threw a big party, but things usually didn’t get crazy enough to warrant a call to the cops.
Trying his best not to add to the noise, Pinto got up, stretched, started a pot of coffee, and turned on the water in the shower. He’d placed a set of work clothes in the bathroom last night so he wouldn’t wake Fiona while getting ready for work. If given the choice, he would have taken the day off, but new recruit training was scheduled through the rest of the week, and they needed a qualified medic on site in case any of the newbies got hurt.
Shaved, showered, and dressed in all black, he followed his nose to the kitchen, where a freshly brewed pot of coffee beckoned to him like a siren song. Pinto filled a mug, took a sip, grimaced, and drank some more. He’d made it stronger than usual this morning, because he needed that extra boost of caffeine to kick his ass into gear.
He was halfway through his breakfast bar when the bedroom door opened. Fiona crossed to the bathroom, eyes sleepy, hair tousled, sexy as hell in a white T-shirt and plaid pajama shorts that clung to her curves. Seconds later, he heard the sound of running water, and his brain nearly short-circuited at the thought of her naked and wet. It triggered a memory of that kiss by her front door last night, and every nerve in his body lit up like a Roman candle.
Get a grip, he told himself as he swallowed another bite of his bar. It wasn’t the first time a woman had stayed the night or used his shower. Granted, it was the first woman in a fair amount of time, but he was an adult who damn well knew how to keep his hormones in check. Their entire relationship was built on deception, and the more he reminded himself of that inconvenient fact, the better.
Still, it took a bit of effort to tear his gaze away from the bathroom door. He switched on his phone and scrolled through his social media accounts, searching for something—anything—to distract himself from the hot, naked woman in his shower.
The water turned off, and a short time later Fiona emerged from the bathroom, hair damp from the shower, wearing tight jeans and a dark-red blouse—crimson or maroon? Fuck if he knew where it landed on the color wheel. All he knew was that it made her pale-blue eyes stand out even more than they normally did. It was mesmerizing.
He downed another swig of coffee. “How’d you sleep?”
“Okay, I guess,” she said with a shrug, though the shadows under her eyes told a different story. “Better than I would have at my place.”
If she’d stayed in her apartment, he seriously doubted she would have slept at all.
After she’d packed a bag last night, they’d compiled a list of possible suspects for the break-in. It was a very short list. She didn’t have any friends or family members with money problems or drug habits. Aside from the occasional irate student or parent, she didn’t have any enemies, and it seemed unlikely that any of them hated her enough to break into her apartment.
Personally, his money was on Dennis, though he couldn’t figure out the motive. If he’d wanted to scare her, he would have trashed the place, and if he’d wanted to steal a particular item, Fiona would have noticed it missing.
There was also the possibility that her home was targeted at random, but the lack of forced entry and the fact nothing was stolen led him to discount the idea.
“Can I get you something for breakfast?” he asked. “I don’t have any Diet Cherry Coke or Pop-Tarts, but you’re more than welcome to anything I’ve got in the kitchen. Glasses and plates are in the cabinet by the stove.”
A flicker of surprise crossed her face. “You remembered what I eat for breakfast.”
“How could I ever forget?”
She looked as if she were fighting a smile. “You say that as if there’s something wrong with Pop-Tarts and Diet Cherry Coke.”
“Hey, I’m not judging. Eat whatever floats your boat.” He stuffed another bite of bar into his mouth so he wouldn’t keep going and say something stupid.
Fiona opened the fridge and bent at the waist to peer inside, treating him to an unobstructed view of her denim-covered ass. He nearly groaned out loud. She reached inside, took out a bottle of water and an apple, and closed the door.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said as she unscrewed the cap. “Maybe I was wrong about the jewelry box drawer.”
Pinto mentally sighed. He’d seen this kind of denial before, a subconscious rationalization because it was easier to live with the idea of being absent-minded than admit your sense of security had been violated. And though he didn’t want to be the one to shatter the illusion, it was more important for her to take the potential threat seriously.
“How about the cat?” he asked. “Do you think Wanda locked herself in the bathroom?”
Fiona caught her bottom lip between her teeth, a nervous habit she probably wasn’t even aware of. “Maybe I closed it by accident.”
“Has that ever happened before?”
Her shoulders slumped. “No.”
