Chapter 38
“Go away. No one’s home.”
“If no one is home, then who is speaking?” Derek leaned against Jayna’s closed door.
“If your name is Derek Brennan, then no one is home.” Jayna’s voice was muffled, but the wooden door couldn’t buffer the grumpiness.
“Come on, Jayna, open up.” He banged on the door again. “I’m not leaving until you do.”
The door swung open, revealing a scowling Jayna. She wore sweatpants and a cropped T-shirt, and her feet were bare. Derek swallowed. She looked just as beautiful as she had in the elegant dress she’d worn the last time he’d been here. However, that time she’d answered the door wearing only a towel. That was the look to beat.
“To whom do I owe this displeasure?” Her tone was sharp, making him grin. He liked this version of Jayna. This Jayna he knew how to handle.
“I…” He what? Stopped by to check up on her? That would go over like a lead balloon. “You…”
“What are you mumbling about, Derek?”
“You can’t actually believe it’s a good idea to continue dating Lance Romance?” There, he managed to get the words out.
Her scowl deepened. “Is that the only reason you stopped by? You’re concerned about me?”
“Is there another reason why you’d want me to stop by?” He shot her the grin that always worked for him.
“Nope. I can’t think of a single reason why I’d want you to stop by. Ever!” Her voice raised on that last word .
He blinked. His charm never worked on Jayna.
“And there are so many reasons why I’d want you to leave,” she continued.
He blinked again. “Jayna, the guy is a person of interest in a murder investigation. I’m just looking out for you.”
“Lucky for you, I’m no longer your concern.” She stood, hands on her hips, backing up as he stepped over the threshold into the foyer.
“Jayna,” his tone changed to pleading as he closed the front door behind him. “He’s not the guy for you. You act differently around him.”
“I just smoothed out my rough edges,” she said softly, and he heard defeat in her voice.
“But your rough edges are amazing. They set you apart from the other women.”
She blinked, her brow furrowing. His brow furrowed as well. He couldn’t believe he’d just said that. But every word was true. She was amazing, refreshingly different from any woman he had ever dated before. And Lance didn’t understand that. The man did not deserve her.
“Jayna, he’s not the guy for you.”
“But you are?”
Now he blinked, his mouth dropping open, but no words came out.
“You don’t do relationships. You don’t do complicated. But you do ‘walking out the door’ so well. So why don’t you?”
“Jayna,” his voice cracked with hesitation. Just why was he here?
Because Lance was a person of interest in a woman’s murder. And no matter how hard Derek tried, he couldn’t stop the worry.
Another thing he didn’t do was WORRY!
Jayna had him feeling jealous, possessive, and now worried. But the thought of Lance touching her, kissing those lips, had him seeing red.
The possibility of something bad happening to her prevented him from sleeping the night through .
If Lance was not the upstanding guy that he had everyone believing… if Lance was the one who had killed Greta…
It was unimaginable. However, Burke had told him that Lance had an airtight alibi. Why couldn’t he shake the feeling Jayna was in trouble?
Serious trouble!
Lance was too polished, too well-dressed. He drank cranberry and vodka! There’s no way the guy could handle a round of wing roulette. What did Jayna see in him?
Lance Romance was not the man for her. She needed someone who appreciated her rough edges, as she had referred to all her incredible traits. Incredible traits? He had once found them completely annoying, too. When had he changed his mind? When had he started thinking that he was the man for her?
He hadn’t changed his mind, had he? No!
Hell, NO!
Yet here he was, standing in her front hallway, trying desperately to convince her to dump the paramedic.
“Jayna, please.”
“Leave, Derek.” She pointed at the front door.
“You are so infuriating. I don’t know if I want to scream at you for being so dense or just kiss you senseless.”
“Neither.” She stepped back further. “Don’t even think about kissing me. You have no right.”
“Really?” He stepped forward.
“Really!” she hissed as his boots touched her toes.
“I don’t like being told what to do.”
“Neither do I.” She sucked in a breath as he reached out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear.
“I never noticed,” he chuckled and moved his head toward hers.
“Don’t,” she whispered as his head dropped.
“Don’t what?” His lips were inches from hers.
“Just don’t,” she said, breathless.
“Don’t do this?” he questioned, his lips brushing across hers.
“Yes.”
“Yes, don’t? Or yes, do?” His tongue flicked out, tracing the lines of her full, gorgeous lips. “I better not then.”
He stepped back, breaking the spell. His only motive was to talk some sense into her. Kissing her had not been the plan.
The same confusion he felt was mirrored in her eyes before it was replaced with a flare of anger.
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” She moved around him and opened the door.
He shook his head. “I may have called you many things, but never stupid. Until now.”
Moving past her, he brushed his fingers across his mouth and then touched hers. Just to annoy her even more, he told himself. Not because he wanted to touch her one more time.
He paused as he walked toward his parked truck. Peaches. Her hair smelled like bloody peaches today. Seriously, that woman needed to pick a shampoo and stick to it. Then maybe she’d be able to think clearly. It could help her to be more decisive, and to realize that dating a murder suspect was probably not the smartest choice.
And if she had hair that smelled the same, then maybe it would stop wreaking havoc with his equilibrium.
He started walking briskly to his truck.
Peaches.
Who the hell used peach-scented shampoo?