J. Kenner - Heated

“I’m saying that you’re very good at what you do. Whatever you do.”

“I’m flattered. And I’m still curious.” He pulled away from me, making me feel cold and suddenly alone, then took my hand as we continued walking through the park.

“What are you not telling me? Please,” he added gently. “I would really like to know.”

I drew in a breath. The truth was, I wanted to tell him. Yes, I knew that I would have to walk away from this man eventually. And yes, I knew that it would be all the harder if I shared my secrets, my fears, my emotions.

But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t a question of smart, but a question of heart. And I wanted Tyler to see into mine.

“Have you heard of Harvey Grier?”

It took him a moment, and then he nodded slowly. “I think so. Baseball player, right? Found shot right as his career was really taking off.”

“He was my stepfather.”

“I see.” Two simple words, and yet they suggested so much. And I both feared and hoped that he really did see. “Did they ever find who killed him?”

“No,” I said. “No, they didn’t.”

“He beat you,” Tyler said softly, and I saw understanding bloom in his face. “Tied you up and beat you.”

I looked away, not ready to see the pity in his eyes. “No, not me. My mother. Well, he tied us both up,” I explained, my voice flat. “But he never beat me. He just made me watch. He said my time was coming.”

“You must be very glad he’s dead.” Tyler’s voice was low and hard. “If I’d known you then, I would have killed him myself.”

I drew in a breath, thinking that was the most perfect thing anyone had ever said to me. And also thinking that I couldn’t say those words aloud. Not and continue to be the person I thought I was. The cop I thought I’d become.

“I am glad,” I said instead. “But he’s dead because the system messed up. I tried to get that bastard arrested, but the cops were too starry-eyed.” I dropped down to the grass and stretched out my legs. “I would have kept trying, but someone blew him away first.”

“So you became a cop to fix the system.”

“I became a cop because I believe in the system. Harvey Grier should be spending a long life rotting in jail. Dead, and it’s just over.”

He joined me on the ground, his hand on my thigh. As always with Tyler’s touch, I felt the heat of connection. But this time it was warm and calm and gentle. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry you had to live through that.”

“But I did live through it,” I said. “So I guess that’s a win.”

“What about your mom? She must have been relieved to be free of that asshole.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I would have thought so. But she shut herself off. Closed herself up. And—” I shook my head. “She just sort of checked out of herself. Just drifted. Never really settled.” I licked my lips. “And then she died. Two years ago. Cancer.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. I thought—I thought that once he was gone she would have been happy, you know? Alive again. But she never was.”

I ran my fingers through my hair and turned away, not wanting to see his face through the red curtain of my memories. “Sometimes I think that if they’d arrested him instead, if there had been a trial, she would have been able to deal with it. They’d have gotten her counseling for the abuse, right? As it was, she was just a minor celebrity’s widow. She never told anyone about the abuse, and no one helped her. I tried, but I was still just a kid. If the system had worked the way it was supposed to, then maybe she—”

I cut myself off, biting my lower lip. “She was a good woman. Fragile, but good. She didn’t know how to get herself out of a bad situation, and she did everything she could to protect me from him. But after I—after he was killed, she rolled into herself. I lost her.”

He tucked a finger under my chin and turned my head to face him. “I’ve never seen you in action, but I’ve asked enough questions to know that you’re a good cop. So you have to know that the system isn’t perfect. It isn’t even close.”

“It evens out,” I said. “Justice finds a way.”

“Does it?”

I smiled. “That’s what my dad always says. And my dad is a very smart man.” I drew in a breath and ran my thumb under my eye, catching an escaping tear. “Sorry.” I managed a teasing smile. “I guess your motto is the opposite? ‘Screw justice’?”

As I’d hoped, he laughed. “There you go, assuming things about me.”

“Is that what I’m doing? Maybe I want to know how you started down the dark path. Come on, Mr. Sharp. I’ve revealed all. Why don’t you tell me why you became a criminal.”

“Such a loaded question, Detective. What makes you think I am?”

“Because I’m not an idiot,” I said.

“Cute, but I’m serious.” He leaned forward. “I admit I like to live dangerously. I love the thrill of acquiring something through my wits. Isn’t that the defining core of every successful businessman? But what crimes have I committed? What evidence do you have?”

“Never mind. Just drop it.”

“No,” he said. “I want to know.”

I sighed. I wanted to know, too. But I couldn’t deny that I feared his answer. Even so, I pressed on. “Evidence, no. But there’s a lot of talk about you and your friends. A lot of speculation.”

“Sticks and stones,” he said.

“Dammit, it’s a conversation. I’m not wearing a wire. I’m not even a Chicago cop. And I’m sure as hell not playing a game. Christ, Tyler, I’m—”

I’m falling for you.

I blinked, shocked by the intensity of the thought. And I didn’t look at him. Instead, I looked everywhere but.

“I’m—I like you,” I finally said. “I like us . But I don’t even know you.”

“What if I told you I was squeaky clean?” His voice was so very gentle, and in that moment I feared that he’d heard past the words to the truth in my voice. “What if I said that everything you fear is in the past?”

I turned now to look at him, and those stormy blue eyes were clear and warm. “That would be nice,” I admitted, realizing as I said it how much I wished it were true.

I tried for a smile. “Will you tell me about your past, then? How you met Evan and Cole? The misadventures of your youth? You told me once your childhood should have been idyllic. What went wrong?”

He raked his fingers through his hair, then stood up and glanced around the moonlit park. Then he reached a hand down for me. I took it and let him help me to my feet, then fell in step beside him. I assumed we were done, that he was keeping his childhood secrets locked away, and I told myself that was good.

I didn’t have a future with Tyler. Despite his protests—or maybe because of them—I knew damn well he was dirty. But for these last few days of my medical leave, I could ignore that. Pretend it wasn’t true. Tell myself I was taking a vacation from myself and sliding into adventure.

I didn’t need to know his secrets, didn’t need to see his heart.

After all, I’d already given him too much of mine.

We’d been walking in silence for at least fifteen minutes when he said, softly and simply, “My parents live in Florida now. We don’t really talk. We’ve never really talked.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Well.” We’d reached a hill atop which there was a statue of a man on a horse. The moon shone down around us, illuminating the area. It was late, probably after three and right then it felt like we were the only two people on earth.

I sat on the side of the hill, then laid back in the cool, damp grass. Above me, Tyler smiled down, and I held out a hand. “Join me.”