For Her Eyes Only

Jessica’s eyes teared in frustration as she stopped its escape. “I got dizzy.”

His expression softened. “Need some help?”

She hesitated.

“Come on, honey. I’ve seen it before.”

The look on her face was priceless, and Stone knew he’d reminded them both of something better left forgotten.

Jessica’s ire rose. “Just turn around, you mealymouthed snake.”

He grinned slightly as he turned. “Dare I turn my back on a woman who’s just called me a snake?”

Jessica glared at his backside, reminding herself to ignore the wide shoulders, narrow hips and long legs as she thrust both arms in the shirt, yanking it down over her head in haste. But she’d forgotten the bandage at the edge of her hairline and yelped in pain when the neck pulled too tight for comfort.

Stone spun, took one look at the predicament she’d put herself in and stalked across the room without waiting for an invitation.

“Easy,” he warned, and pulled the shirt back up enough to give himself room to maneuver. She started to sputter. He frowned. “Calm down, damn it. I’m trying to help.”

When she muttered something he didn’t understand, he figured it was better to let lost curses die. This time when he eased the shirt down, he started the opening at the back of her head first, then pulled it toward the front, stretching the fabric as it slid past the bandage. When it cleared her nose, he looked down. Two orbs of pure blue were gleaming up at him with malevolence.

“You’re welcome,” he drawled.

She resented his arrogance. Why did devastating men always smirk?

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

The question took him off guard. What was he doing here? Last night had resulted in a multitude of disasters that had sent literally dozens of Grand Springs residents to the hospital. And Jessica wasn’t the only one he knew who’d been admitted. Why had he felt the urge to make sure she, above all others, was going to be okay? Uneasy as to how to answer her, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I was on my way home. Thought I’d stop by.”

“You live on the other side of town.”

His eyes narrowed. He wasn’t prepared to pursue the issue. Not with her. Not even with himself.

“I know where I live. Do you want to go home or not?”

Jessica’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, please.”

Satisfied to be back on firm ground, Stone nodded. “That’s fine, then.” He looked down at her feet. “Where are your shoes?”

Jessica pointed toward the closet and started to cry. Not loudly, just huge, silent tears spilling out of her eyes and down her face.

At that moment, something tore loose inside of Stone that had nothing to do with compassion. If he hadn’t been so rattled by a particular tear hanging on the edge of her lip, he might have realized the emotion for what it was. But he was, and he didn’t, and by the time he got the shoes on her feet, the notion of pursuing the thought had long since passed.

Their drive home was silent. A half hour later, he pulled into Jessica’s driveway and parked. Every house on the block was little more than a dark shape against the shadows of the coming night. Now and then a weak glow of some lantern or candle could be seen shining through curtains, but it was the depth of darkness out on the streets that made Jessica jumpy.

After offering to carry her inside, and getting a quick glare for his efforts, Stone settled for walking her to the house. Lit only by the glow of a three-quarter moon, he guided her to the porch steps. They were at the door before Jessica drew back in dismay and slapped her hand against the side of her leg.

“Wormy, wormy fudge,” she muttered.

He chuckled beneath his breath. One thing he’d loved about her was the uniqueness of her colorful language, but even that sounded gross to him.

“What’s wrong?”

“My keys are in my purse, and it must be back in my office at the lodge.”

“Not to worry,” Stone said, and slipped a small lock pick from his jacket pocket. Moments later, the lock clicked and the door swung open. He stepped aside.

“Don’t mention it.”

She glanced up at him in silent appreciation. “Thank goodness you’re on our side.”

Stone followed her in, shutting the door behind him. “Got a flashlight or candles?”

“Both in the kitchen. Top drawer on the right.”

He traded the lock pick for his own small flashlight. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

When he started toward the back of the house, Jessica frowned.

“How do you know where the kitchen is?”

“I’m following my nose.”

She sniffed. He was right. The scent of burned bacon was still evident.

Smart aleck.

But she didn’t voice her thoughts. She didn’t have it in her to complain anymore. An old Elvis Presley song came to mind as she leaned against the wall to keep from falling. Yes, her legs were shaky, and her knees were more than weak. She was definitely all shook up, but from the accident, of course. Not from the fact that she’d just spent the better part of an hour with a man who’d haunted more than one of her dreams.

Jessica closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. When she looked up, he was coming toward her, carrying a lit candle. His face was cast in shadow, but the cut of his cheekbones, a broad slash of jaw and his lower lip were highlighted by the soft yellow glow.

Exhaling slowly, she watched as he set the candle on a nearby table and then led her toward the chair beside it. She sat.

“Here,” Stone said, and dropped her flashlight into her lap.

Suddenly the intimacy of being alone in the darkness with this man was too much. She’d spent two years trying to forget how it felt to go to sleep and wake up in his arms.

“Goodbye, and thank you for bringing me home.”

His easy laugh did things to her nerves she didn’t need to feel.

As Stone chuckled, it crossed his mind that his ex-wife would have cried and clung with every ounce of her being. She’d hated his job as a cop, but she’d hated her lonely life as a cop’s wife more.

“Damn, honey. I’ve had the brush-off before, but never so sweetly.”

Muttering beneath her breath, she looked away. “That wasn’t a brush-off, and stop calling me ‘honey.’”