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“Which part?” she asked. “Kissing me or stopping?”
He slanted her a warning look. “Caroline.”
“What if I didn’t want you to stop?”
Her words reverberated through Jason, causing his body to harden. She’d felt so good in his arms, and she’d tasted exactly as he’d remembered from all those years ago, like wild honey. But she was no longer an impressionable, innocent girl. She was a woman now, and there was no reason why he shouldn’t take whatever she offered. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want her.
He did.
He also knew that getting involved with Caroline would be a mistake of monumental proportions. After all, she was the precious daughter of his mentor and friend. Judge Banks had spent his life ensuring her safety and happiness. He wanted the best for her, and that didn’t include a guy like Jason. He could still hear her scathing words from that long-ago night—he was gutter trash.
He may have cleaned up his act and donned the veneer of respectability, but deep down he knew she was right. He couldn’t change who he was—the son of a drug addict, born and raised on the crime-ridden streets of Hunters Point. He’d done things that would cause Caroline to recoil in disgust if she ever knew.
Even if he could change who he was, it would make no difference. They lived on opposite sides of the country, and he didn’t do long-distance relationships any more than he did long-term relationships.
“Look,” he finally said, carefully choosing his words, “you’ve had a traumatic day, and you’re vulnerable right now. I won’t take advantage of you that way, not when I’m detailed to protect you.”
“Even if it’s what I want?”
Jason felt a wry smile tug at his mouth. Even now, after all these years, she felt entitled to have something simply on the basis of wanting it.
“I’m not sure you know what you want right now.”
Her mouth tightened, and he could almost see the walls going up around her. She was shutting down, shutting him out. “I want to go home.”
He gave her a tolerant look. “Caroline, you know that’s not possible. Not right now. Maybe in a day or two, if they clear the scene.”
Her chin went up. “What about the beach house? That’s not off-limits, is it?”
He frowned. “The beach house is no safer than the house in Sea Cliff. We have to assume that whoever shot your father also knows about the house in Santa Cruz. Even if we cleared the house, it’s a long drive. Sure you want to make that trip each day?”
“So I could stay there?” she asked, ignoring his question.
Jason didn’t like the idea of returning to the beach house, but there was no reason why she couldn’t return home, either to the house in Sea Cliff, once the investigators were finished processing the crime scene, or the house in Santa Cruz. He had enough men to provide ample security wherever she chose to go.
She stared at him for a moment, then spun on her heel and walked toward the windows. She abruptly changed course and moved to stand near the table.
“Please tell me we can go to the beach house. Even you can see that I can’t stay here,” she said, not looking at him.
With you.
She didn’t say the words aloud, but they hung in the air between them. Jason blew out a hard breath. This was his fault, and he mentally kicked himself. But there was no way he was going to give up the protection detail or allow another deputy to step in and take over. He’d pulled a lot of strings when he’d contacted his counterpart in San Francisco and asked for the assignment. He couldn’t back out now. And in all honesty, he didn’t want to. “The investigators should be done with the Sea Cliff house in a day or so,” he said quietly. “If you want to go to the house in Santa Cruz, I’ll make the arrangements. But for tonight, we’ll stay here.”
Her cell phone rang, and she reached for it, glancing at the screen before looking at him. “I have to take this call. I’ll stay here for tonight if there’s no other choice. But I’m checking out tomorrow morning.”
“Caroline—”
She’d already turned away, putting the phone to her ear as she strode into the bedroom. Before she shut the door, he heard her say, “Hi, Patrick. I’m sorry—I meant to call you earlier.”
Who was Patrick? A coworker? A friend? Or something more? Jason scrubbed a hand over his face, blocking out the image of Caroline with another man. Over the years, he’d managed to work her into his conversations with the judge, so he always knew what was going on in her life. But William had never talked about Caroline’s boyfriends. Jason hadn’t pressed him, because he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. Pulling out his own phone, he made a call to the officer on duty at the hospital, reassuring himself that the judge was still alive and that he’d had no visitors since they had left. Then he made a call to Agent Sullivan, the lead investigator on the FBI team, to get more information about the footprint they had recovered.
