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Chapter Five
Kinley sat on her hands to stop them from shaking. One moment she was living the life she wanted, and the next there was a dead woman, reporters camped out in front of her apartment, and presumably a killer taking care of unfinished business—her. That reporter had scared the shit out of her when he stepped in their path. She hadn’t been angry at Easton for shielding her. She’d been mad at her reaction. Tucked into his side, she felt safe in a way she didn’t know was possible at this point in her life. She’d seen and experienced things she couldn’t unsee or unfeel—so had he—but despite that, they both committed their lives to protecting people. She shouldn’t need someone to lean on. Others were supposed to look to her for help.
And had she tried to wriggle free and stand on her own two feet? Nope. If anything, she’d clung to him. So much for the independent, kickass detective. If there wasn’t a picture of her in Easton’s arms plastered on tomorrow’s headlining news, it would be a miracle. She felt guilty for giving him a hard time when all he was trying to do was protect her. If their roles were reversed, she would’ve done the same thing to keep him from the press.
“What are you thinking so hard about over there?” The hoarse roll of his voice made her stomach tumble into a freefall.
“How much my life has changed in twenty-four hours.” She sighed and turned to him. “And how I appreciate you shielding me back there, even if I’ve been a jerk about it.” She hoped the sincerity came through in her voice. “Seriously, you took time out of your schedule this morning to hear my concerns, then for Gus when he called you to the scene, now you’re letting me crash at your place…”
“Stop.” He flipped on the directional and pulled onto a residential road. “None of those things are a hardship.” At the end of the street, they reached a cul-de-sac, and Easton entered the driveway of a huge, two-story colonial home. Motion-sensor spotlights illuminated the house. “I don’t want you to presume I have pure intentions, here. I’m not just helping you. I’m trying to crack a notorious cold case. I don’t mind helping people out, but I’m no do-gooder. I can be a selfish bastard, and most of the time, I’d rather spend hours at my computer than talk to a human. I go out of my way to avoid interactions. If someone gets too friendly at the local sub shop, I’ll never go back. When it comes to household chores, I’m lazy. I’ve never mowed the grass at this house once. I don’t even own a lawn mower.”
“Well, thank God you cleared that up. I was wondering how you could be single.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I live off frozen, sodium-laden single-serve meals because I just can’t be bothered. Sometimes, I’ll skip showering in lieu of reading a good book. I sneak into my apartment some nights so my elderly neighbor doesn’t talk my ear off, and I never leave candy for trick-or-treaters.”
“You want to date me, Kins?” A ghost of a smile flitted around his lips. One that made the breath get trapped in her lungs.
She rolled her eyes, hellbent on restraining the grin eager to spread over her face. “That’s what stuck with you, huh?” This was silly. She had bigger things to occupy her mind than how Easton would look naked. Still, the image she’d conjured up was quite tempting. Annoyed with the giddiness fizzing in her belly, she unbuckled and opened the door. Easton was rounding the vehicle before her shoes hit the pavement. The temperature had dropped another few degrees. Spindly branches thrashed at the whim of the gusty wind, exposed to the elements without the cloaks of leaves. Easton’s strides were long and purposeful, but she kept the pace, walking hip to hip with him until they’d reached the side door. Instead of inserting a key into the lock, Easton took out his cell phone and entered a code. The deadbolt disengaged, and he stood to the side so she could enter first.
They stepped into a mudroom with a built-in wooden bench and coat hooks on the wall. Footwear was stacked on a shoe rack on the floor. She removed her jacket and slipped it on one of the hooks, then followed his lead and removed her shoes. The room led into an open kitchen and living room. Light stone counters popped against the deep mahogany color floors. She’d been expecting more of a bachelor pad, but the space was sophisticated and welcoming. The walls showcased canvas portraits of his siblings, and a cozy throw was draped over the buttery leather couch.
“Your home is beautiful.” Her apartment was a place to sleep and keep her stuff. She shifted as she looked around, suddenly uncomfortable with the inadequacy of her own residence.
“It would be a barren shell if it weren’t for Jules. She chose paint colors, décor, and all the finishes. I didn’t understand what was wrong with white walls and a futon, but I can’t complain about the end result. It’s comfortable, but it looks nice too.”
“More than nice. Your sister could make a living as a home decorator.” She was suddenly aware of just how alone they were in the large house. The only sound was their breathing in the cavernous space.
Easton cleared his throat and rocked back on his heels. Had the same thought crossed his mind, too? “She wants to be a behavior analyst. Help kids with special needs. Come on. I’ll show you the spare rooms.” He lifted his chin toward the staircase. The smooth floor was slippery against her socks, so she proceeded with caution, perfectly content walking at a slower pace.
“She’s a good person,” she added as they moved to the second floor. “After Sasha was rescued, she and Jules insisted I go to their favorite day spa to celebrate.”
His eyes widened before he neutralized his expression. “I had no idea. Jules has a big heart. She’s definitely the best of us.” Easton opened the first door on the right. “She usually stays in this room because there’s an ensuite. It’s probably the most comfortable, but you can decide.”
“This is fine. Thanks.” It was more than fine. A queen-sized bed with a mountain of lemon-colored pillows, some with ruffles, others with sequins or beading lined the upholstered headboard. There was a large, cream-colored desk that matched the walls, and a pink crystal chandelier cast the room in a soft sheen. Before she’d been taken, she liked to paint her nails and chat about boys during slumber parties with friends. That girl had been left behind in the basement. After her escape, she did her best to blend instead of trying to stand out. She was out of place in this room with all its pretty frills and eye-catching details, but she might enjoy how luxurious it felt for a day or two.
“Okay,” he said, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Let me get you clothes to wear. I’ll make something quick to eat, and we can talk about what I’ve found so far. Sound good?”
A shaky breath escaped her lips. She hadn’t expected him to find something so soon. The tightness in her throat made it difficult to speak, so she nodded and Easton disappeared down the hall. It took only a minute for him to return with a pair of sweatpants, a long-sleeved shirt, socks, and a hoodie. “In case you get cold,” he said, handing over the stack of clothing. “I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”
Kinley shut the door and shed her work attire. The stench from the scene clung to the fabric, and she was grateful for anything clean no matter how baggy it was. The pants were soft and lined with fleece. She pulled the strings at the waist taut so they wouldn’t slip off. The hem of the shirt hit her knees, and the hoodie swallowed her up. She’d never been more comfortable. The fresh scent of Easton’s laundry detergent hugged the material. Not that she’d ever admit to inhaling his things. Still, for whatever reason, being in his clothing, in his home, grounded her.
The scratch at the base of the door made her take pause. Easton hadn’t mentioned having a dog. When she opened the door, the largest feline she’d ever seen mewed loudly and stalked past her. Its yellow fur puffed up at odd angles, and it seemed to be missing half of an ear. There were many sides to Easton she’d yet to uncover. She sought him out, padding down the hall and the stairs.
He was standing at the stove. His broad shoulders were lined with hard muscle, and they bunched as he transferred something from a frying pan to a plate. He turned, spatula in one hand and the plate in the other, and caught her eye. Her mouth went dry as he studied her. The expression on his face was primal and heated, and her heart banged against her ribs as she became adrift in his gaze.
“Looks good on you.”
A current of electricity tingled through her at the hoarse timbre of his voice. It reached the core of all the neglected, sensual places she’d ignored for so long. Places that were no longer silent. No, every inch of her flesh was smoldering.
“It’s cozy. Thanks.” When he gestured to the kitchen table, she pulled out a chair and sat. She wasn’t sure her legs would hold her much longer anyway. One look from Easton and she’d gone weak in the knees. The plate clinked against the table as he set grilled cheese and soup in front of her.
“If there was ever a time for comfort food, now’s probably it,” he said before turning back to the counter.
“Thanks.” The mouth-watering aromas of butter and melted cheese rose up to her nose, and her stomach grumbled in response.
Easton carried his own plate over to the table and sat across from her. She tried to ignore the way the muscles in his jaw clenched as he dug into the meal. Chewing had just become sexy as all get out. They ate in companionable silence for a few moments.
“So good,” she murmured and swallowed down a bite. It tasted like childhood. “Knocks my frozen dinners out of the park.” She wasn’t exaggerating when she said most of her meals came from a square box.
“If that’s all it takes to make you stay, I’ll keep ’em coming.” The grin he cast her way muddled all of her senses.
