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“You never thought to redecorate?” Jason asked wryly. “I don’t think this room has changed since you were fifteen.”
She smiled. “Nope. I told my dad that he could convert it to another guest bedroom, but he said he liked it just the way it was.” She paused. “He said it reassured him that there was still innocence and goodness in the world.”
“I understand what he meant.”
“Do you ever want to do something different?” she ventured.
“Nope.”
“But you could be a trial lawyer with your background,” she said.
“Can you honestly see me striding through a courtroom, making impassioned speeches?” he asked. “I spent ten years in law enforcement before I was appointed to the marshal position. This is where I belong.”
Caroline nodded. She knew exactly what he meant. She recalled that moment when she realized she was meant to work with underprivileged children. She’d had a sense of complete fulfillment. While corporate law might be more lucrative, she would never find it more satisfying.
“What about you?” Jason asked. “Ever see yourself as a trial lawyer?”
She gave a surprised laugh. “Me? No. I’ve thought about using my trust fund to set up a foundation for needy kids.” She sensed his sharp interest. “I really enjoyed the pro bono work I did in Richmond for the child welfare office. I felt like I was making a difference.”
“That’s a noble endeavor,” he finally replied. “What about working as a child advocate here in San Francisco?” He gave her a wry grin. “Trust me, if I’d had someone like you on my side back when I was a kid, things might have been very different.”
Caroline sobered. “But then I might never have met you. You wouldn’t have ended up in my father’s courtroom, and you certainly wouldn’t have spent time with us while you finished college.”
“And you wouldn’t have spent half your time watching me when you thought I wasn’t looking,” he said, his tone teasing.
Her eyes widened. “You knew I used to spy on you?”
Grinning, he pulled her into his arms. “Like I said, I knew everything about you.”
They stared at each other for several long seconds. Jason swallowed, and his gaze dropped to her mouth.
She placed her hands lightly against his chest and pressed her lips sweetly to his. The moment their lips met, heat flared. With a rough groan, Jason captured her face between his big hands and slanted his mouth across her own. She didn’t resist when she felt the intrusion of his tongue against hers, and then there was only a slow burn that made her nipples ache and her center throb.
She wound her arms around his neck, speared her fingers through his hair and reveled in the hard, solid feel of him, flush against her from chest to knees. He slid a hand to the base of her spine and pressed her forward so that she could feel his growing erection beneath his jeans. In another second, she was going to drag him into her childhood bedroom, throw him across the pristine white bedspread and do all the things that she’d ever fantasized about doing to him.
The sound of a car door slamming nearby startled them both, and they broke apart, their breathing a little labored. Stepping past her, Jason moved swiftly into her bedroom and over to the side window. She followed him, and they both looked outside.
A car had pulled into the driveway of the house next door, and a woman had climbed out of the passenger seat. She wore a plain beige uniform with a white collar and cuffs and white service shoes. As they watched, the car reversed slowly and backed into the street before driving away.
“That’s the neighbor’s housekeeper,” Jason noted.
She remembered the woman from that first day, when she had insisted on seeing the spot where her father had been shot. Now the woman carried two large shopping sacks in her arms, and Caroline could see a long loaf of crusty bread and a leafy vegetable poking out of the top.
“She must be the cook,” she murmured. “Or maybe she does both. Looks like she has something good planned for dinner.”
They watched as the woman climbed the steps to the back door and then pulled out her house key, struggling to balance the two sacks of groceries and her pocketbook. She glanced once over at their house and gave a quick nod of acknowledgment. Caroline knew that one of the deputies stood guard on the back porch, so she must have just become aware of him observing her.
“Poor thing,” Caroline said. “She must be completely freaked out.”
Unable to juggle the groceries and her pocketbook, she set her purse down by her feet and quickly unlocked the door. She disappeared inside, and then returned a scant second later to scoop up the pocketbook and close the door firmly behind her.
