Chapter Eighteen
Patrick and I grabbed takeout burgers and fries for dinner on the way home. Once inside the kitchen, I put the paper food bags onto the table, and Patrick set down the drink tray. He removed his gun and utility belt and deposited them into a cabinet drawer.
“I’m just going to get out of these clothes,” he said.
That was an attractive picture. I beamed ear to ear.
He chuckled. “I’ll be right back.”
I took two plates from the cupboard and pulled the drinks from the cardboard tray. I snatched a French fry from a bag. This day had been completely opposite to my old usual routine. From morgue to crime scene, pin balling, so to speak, between two men. I had no experience in crime investigation, but I felt I wanted, no needed, to dive into all this more. I couldn’t figure out why, because I hadn’t particularly enjoyed the day’s occurrences.
Patrick came back wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. He sat and took a sip of his fountain drink. “Nickel, for your thoughts?”
“For you, no charge,” I said. “But seriously, I was just thinking about the day.”
We put the burgers and fries on our plates and dug in.
“How are you coping?”
“I think as good as can be expected. But—”
“But what?”
“It’s hard to explain. I feel that this is all, anticlimactic. We have gotten no answers. Just more questions.”
“Welcome to investigative work, love. It’s not like what you see on television.”
“Not at all. Right now, I am so happy with you, but with regard to the case, it’s like I have a black emptiness inside. I can’t describe it.”
Patrick looked at me in thought. “Black emptiness? Like a void of missing something? Or someone?”
I froze. What was he referring to? This couldn’t be about Aram. Could it? Was I being paranoid? Had my imagination gone wild because I hadn’t yet told Patrick about Aram and our past?
“I don’t feel like I’m missing anything,” I said.
“June, I think I know what you’re going through.”
“Really?” I said as I crinkled up the foil wrappings from our meal. Internally, I braced for the truth of our conversation.
“The dark emptiness you feel right now. I’ve experienced it before.”
“You have?”
“Yes. I believe you’re involved in this case deeper than you realize. Personally, professionally. And we can’t dismiss how you may be in danger.”
He had a valid point. Since the day Patrick answered that police call while driving me home, my life had changed. I had become consumed by unanswered questions, tension, and fear. If Patrick wasn’t beside me, I’d certainly be living in terror.
“I’ve never been inundated like this before,” I said.
“You can only live on adrenaline for so long, and then you crash,” Patrick said. “Tomorrow, perhaps you shouldn’t come with me to visit that hematologist, Dr. Fulthorpe. Maybe it’d be best to slip back into your usual routine.”
“Perhaps, but I want to go tomorrow. I need to.”
He gave me a sympathetic smile. “It’s addictive, isn’t it? Needing answers. Craving justice.”
His gaze pulled me in, as did his insightful words. I did need answers. And I’d always wanted fairness and justice for everyone. I remember even at an early age sticking up for kids that were teased at school.
“Yes, this really is all-consuming. How were you able to figure out what I’m going through?”
“All I’ve figured out is I’ve felt the same way you just described,” he said. “I also suspect you’re longing to make passionate love to me right now.”
I laughed. “You couldn’t be further off the mark, Officer.”
He jumped out of his chair, scooped me up, and slung me over his shoulder. Like a caveman, he carried me upstairs, and I giggled. He set me on my feet beside the bed, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“What would I do without you?” I whispered.
He frowned. “Without me, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”
I caressed his neck. “That’s not true. I got myself into this mess, remember?”
“Well, we won’t harp on this anymore.” He put his lips to mine and pulled me close. Our kiss lingered and deepened, heating me inside and out. We undid each other’s shirt buttons and laughed at the awkwardness of our tangled arms. He sat on the bed, and I stood between his thighs. His expert mouth moved across my cleavage. He was in no hurry to unhook my bra. I closed my eyes, relishing the sensation. My hands cradled his neck, and then I ran my fingers through his hair. I floated as if without gravity.
Behind my closed lids flashed an image of Aram. Dark hair, brows, lashes, electric aquamarine eyes. Breath caught in my throat, and I stepped back, winded.
Patrick looked up at me, as if he was just wrenched from a dream. “Hey,” he said softly. “You okay?”
“More than okay.” I moved to continue where we had left off. He undid the button on my pants. They slipped down, and I stepped out of them. “Stand up for a sec,” I said. He obliged, and I undid his trousers.
He kissed my shoulders and slipped his arms around my body. Before he could unsnap my bra, I angled away from him.
Shit.
What was wrong with me?
His lips parted as if about to speak, but he remained silent. I had behaved in this manner when we had first become intimate. And now I was re-enacting that same push-pull.
Aram. It was because of seeing Aram I’d regressed into this mode. I didn’t know what else to call it.
“June,” Patrick said. “It’s all right. How about we just cash out? We have an early morning planned.” He stood and pulled back the bed sheets.
“Stop,” I said. I would not let phantom emotions from the past impede on being with Patrick. I’d do what I had to do to get past it.
He stopped and crooked a brow.
“Stay there. Don’t move,” I said and dashed out of the room. I leaned against a wall in the hallway to catch my breath. Breathe, I told myself. Breathe. Wait. I had an idea.
I scurried down the stairs to the wall unit. I turned on the stereo and found a station with melodic pop music. Perfect for upping an intimate atmosphere. In the kitchen, I opened the top drawer of the cabinet and retrieved what I wanted. I raced back upstairs and paused in the doorway, short-winded from running. Panting wasn’t overly sexy, and I hoped he wouldn’t notice.
Shirtless, Patrick’s triceps flexed as he pulled down the window blind. He turned, and his mouth curved into an affectionate grin. “You put on music.”
“I did.” I pushed my shoulders back and jutted out a hip. I took my hand from behind my back and held up his handcuffs. “Once more, for old times’ sake?”
His eyes scanned the entire length of me. I’m sure he soaked in every detail. He was, after all, a cop.
“You’re taking me on what charge?” he said.
“For being the sexiest man I’ve ever known.”
“In that case, I surrender.”