Karen Rose - Have You Seen Her?

"Maybe you should go ask her. Now would be good," Thatcher responded through his teeth.

"Thatcher," he began, but Thatcher turned with his jaw clenched so hard it was a wonder the man didn't break every tooth in his head.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Davies."

Neil looked back to the table where Jenna sat chewing on her lower lip, her eyes now troubled. Not afraid, just troubled. And quite possibly more than just a little bit pissed. He remembered the brown belt she'd worn around her waist when he'd met her Thursday night and figured she was more than capable of taking care of herself. Even so, he'd check on her tomorrow. Just to make sure she was all right. A professional courtesy, as it were. "Tomorrow, then," he said to Thatcher, and against his better judgment, left the bar without looking back.

Saturday, October 8, 10:15 P.M.

Jenna was out of the Volvo and halfway up the stairs to her apartment by the time he got the keys out of the ignition. Muttering a curse, he followed, catching up with her at her front door.

She looked up from searching her purse, her eyes accusing. "I think it's better for both of us if you just went home, Steven," she said sofily, then turned to look behind her with a scowl. "I'm all right , Mrs. Kasselbaum. We just had a fight. If you'd care to come out in your hair curlers I'd be glad to tell you all about it."

The door clicked closed and Jenna gritted her teeth, dropping hdr eyes to search her purse again. Dismissing him.

"Jenna, we need to talk."

"I think you've said quite enough for one evening, don't you think?"

He blew out a breath. "I said I was sorry. Just open the door so we can discuss this in private, okay?"

She shook her purse in frustration. "I'd open the door if I could find my damn keys."

The door behind them opened and a gnarled old hand appeared with two keys connected with a bread bag twisty-tie. "Thank you. Mrs. Kasselbaum," Steven gritted and took the keys, remembering he still hadn't changed the deadbolt on Jenna's front door. He ignored Jenna's outstretched palm and unlocked the door himself, holding it open as she squeezed past him with a glare.

He closed the door and leaned against it. Watched her hang up her jacket and run a soothing hand over Jean-Luc's back before sending the dog back to his bed in the corner. The dog glared at him, able to read Jenna's mood.

So could Steven. She was upset. She had a right to be. He'd been jealous and curt and had embarrassed her in front of Davies. "I said I was sorry."

She nodded, her back to him. "Yes, you did. Now would you care to tell me why?"

"Why I'm sorry?"

"No, why you threw that little tantrum back at the bar."

He gritted his teeth at the trivialization. "It wasn't a tantrum."

She turned around, scorn on her face. "Then what was it, exactly, because I'm confused. I only know this is the second time you've jumped to the wrong conclusion when you've seen me talk to another man. Your track record leaves much to be desired, Agent Thatcher."

He shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Thursday night at the hospital-when you came in with Neil and I was with Ned and Lucas. You were angry then, too."

Steven locked his arms across his chest, remembering how he felt seeing her in the arms of another man. He hadn't been angry. He'd been hurt. But now he'd be damned before admitting that to her. "I was not angry. Surprised, maybe, but not angry."

She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Fine." She lightly pushed him away from the front door and he let her do it. Opening the front door she gestured for him to leave. "I'd like to continue this when you're willing to talk to me," she said, in what he imagined to be her schoolteacher voice. It grated on him. "But it's late and I'm tired and I'd like you to go now."

He stared at her for a full minute. She meant it. She was throwing him out. "Davies wants you for himself," he heard himself say, then waited.

Her lips twisted in a humorless smile. "Well, Steven, you of all people should know we don't get everything we want. You actually thought I…" She let the thought trail away and shook her head. "If you could even think I could go with him not twenty minutes after talking about making love with you?" She swallowed hard. "Then we weren't talking about making love. We were only talking about having sex. And to borrow a trite phrase, I'm not that kind of a girl." She motioned to the hallway with a flourish. "Good night, Steven."

Uncertainly he stepped out into the hall and a second later was staring at the door she'd quietly closed in his face. Slowly he trudged down the stairs and to his car where he had an eagle's eye view of Jenna standing at her window, looking down at him.

She just stared down as he stared up, her expression so disappointed and grave. No hysterics or thrown pottery as Melissa would have done. And he heard Mike's voice in his head. "Not all women are Melissa." Steven knew that. He knew Jenna was nothing like Melissa. He'd known it from the very start. Yet at the first opportunity he'd allowed himself to believe the worst. He'd wounded her before she could wound him.

And he'd done a damn fine job.

He watched as she went into the kitchen, coming out with the container of ice cream she'd taken comfort in the night Casey got hurt. The night he'd told her he could fall in love with her. Because she was beautiful and kind. Every man's dream.

His dream. So get your ass back up there and apologize , his self told him severely. So he did.

"Jenna, open the door," he coaxed when she didn't answer. "Please." He'd leaned his forehead on her door when he heard a giant sigh behind him and turned to find Mrs. Kasselbaum in her robe and hair curlers looking as if she really wanted to take a switch to his hide.

"Do I have to do everything for you people?" she demanded in an exasperated voice. "I gave you the keys not ten minutes ago. Have you lost them already?"

Steven dug in his pocket and felt the twisty-tie prick his finger. "No, ma'am." He brought out the keys and showed them to her. "Here they are."

She rolled her eyes. "And there is the door. Do I have to draw you a map? Key, door. I swear, young man, if my safety is in your hands, I'm going to buy a gun."

Steven felt his lips twitch. "No, ma'am, don't do that. I'm sorry we woke you."

"Don't let this become a nightly occurrence," she snapped and stepped back into her apartment.

Jenna looked up, startled when her door swung open and Steven walked in as if he owned the place. She glared at him, wishing she had never let him into her heart. Wishing she'd never given him the power to hurt her so badly. Wishing Mrs. Kasselbaum didn't have a spare set of keys to her apartment. "I thought I told you to go away."

"I changed my mind."

"I didn't." Sensing her mood, Jean-Luc curled up at her feet and she could feel a low growl vibrating through his body.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, right," she said bitterly. "We seem to have had this conversation before."

He took another step closer and she could smell his cologne. He smelled so good. "I'm an idiot," he said, looking so good. So damn good. Her heart kicked up a notch and she felt her skin sizzle. And cursed the fact that she was so easy when it came to him.

She looked down into the ice cream, fighting the urge to forget his tantrum and throw herself into his arms, to simply take up where they'd left off before Davies spoiled everything. No, she corrected herself. Before Steven thought the worst of her. "I figured that out the day we first met."

"You were right then." He came closer until his hand closed over hers, sending the spoon back into the ice cream and a current straight down the middle of her body. "You were right tonight. I was a jealous jerk. I'm sorry."