Chapter 13 Dominique #2
I didn’t know what to make of the brutal honesty.
People said things all the time, voiced spontaneous opinions while under stress that they might normally keep to themselves.
Was it a glimpse into Kobe’s true character?
A slip of the tongue in a heated moment?
Did he regret it or stand by the claim? He didn’t seem to feel any sympathy for the dead.
It was something to consider, but not in the middle of the night.
We didn’t talk about the investigation over dinner.
Kobe hadn’t wanted to, and I wasn’t about to push.
If he willingly shared, I would happily listen.
What had he discovered about these victims?
Why the venomous comment? It was quite the out-of-place statement for a man of the law. Then again, did I really know him?
Maybe it should have bothered me or raised red flags, but I was more concerned about our lost date and the unexpected trajectory of our evening, wondering when or if we could get it back.
It was late, but the memory of Kobe’s kiss lingered.
My lips tingled whenever I recalled the feeling of his mouth against mine.
Soft lips. His scent in my nostrils. A hand on my thigh.
I’d been robbed, and my imagination was not going to get me through the days that would follow before I saw him again. Figuring out how to articulate this unexpected need was another issue.
By silent agreement, we headed toward our vehicles. I tossed my gear in the trunk and faced Kobe, who waited with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders near his ears. He still struggled to hold my gaze.
“I’m sorry our night was so rudely interrupted,” I said, breaking the ice.
He peered up from under dark lashes. “It wasn’t your fault, Doc.”
“I guess, but I missed out on a proper kiss good night.” Or more, I didn’t say.
Kobe studied me. Instead of smiling at my forwardness, his apprehension seemed to deepen. He peered back toward the crime scene, creases forming on his brow. “I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier. It was unprofessional. Again. I have a habit of putting my foot in my mouth.”
He didn’t clarify what he was referring to, but he didn’t have to. I’d been hearing the words over and over.
“You must have had your reasons.”
Kobe huffed a humorless laugh, meeting my eyes. Scrutinizing. Questioning. Unsure. “You’re just going to brush it aside?”
I shrugged. “You wouldn’t be the first person in the world to have a malicious thought, Kobe Haven. These men weren’t killed for no reason. It’s obvious they’ve done something…” I fished for the right word. “Unforgivable? At least in someone’s eyes.”
“If my suspicions are right, then yes. That’s exactly it.”
“All right then. Not my place to judge.”
Kobe didn’t seem to know what to make of that.
He radiated an insecurity that I didn’t like.
I preferred him playful. Coy. Flirty. The Kobe who uninhibitedly crooned to jazz music from the fifties was the one I preferred.
The boyish smiles. The dimples. The man who thought my dry sense of humor was funny.
“I appreciate it,” he said, but the tension between us remained. “When will you get to the autopsy?”
“In the morning. First thing.”
“Cool. Not sure I’ll make it. This is going to get ugly before the sun’s up.” He sighed and kicked at a pebble. “I should try to grab a few hours before all hell breaks loose.”
“What are the chances you’ll be free tomorrow evening?”
He frowned like he didn’t quite understand the question. “Honestly? Slim. Why?”
“I figured. I was hoping to see you. For dinner, maybe. I don’t want to get a babysitter again.
Cosette gets moody when I’m away from home too many nights in a row.
If you manage to get away, even for an hour, you’re welcome to come for dinner.
I have a passion for cooking. Not sure what’s on the menu yet, but… ” I trailed off.
“Dinner? Are you sure?”
“I enjoyed tonight. It was short-lived, and I want another chance to earn that kiss. The one you held back.”
“I only held back for the sake of our food. Cold steak frites is gross.”
“The point is, I missed out on something I was… looking forward to.”
A glinting smile touched his mouth, and in a flash, Boyishly Shy Kobe surfaced. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He approached, stopping less than a foot away.
I stood my ground as Confident Kobe replaced Shy Kobe.
He smoothed a hand over the front of my leather jacket. “What if I’m too busy tomorrow?”
“I suppose we could wait for another date night.”
We were of the same height, Kobe a half inch or so shorter. I fell into the dark pools of his eyes, vibrating with anticipation. The cold no longer touched me.
As though reading my mind, Kobe said, “What if I don’t want to wait?”
We moved at the same time, coming together in a kiss that started with uncertainty, but quickly bloomed to something fresh and new and tantalizing.
Kobe’s tongue fluttered against the seam of my lips.
A whisper of permission. I granted him entrance—into my mouth and my world.
His hands landed on my cheeks, fingers like ice, drawing me closer as he backed me against the car and kissed me with passion and surety.
I staggered, then surrendered, unable to do anything else.
Kobe’s tongue, his lips, and the hard press of his body kindled a fire in my blood.
In those few blissful moments, I forgot who I was and where I’d been, and for the first time in two and a half years, the sorrow and pain that lived in the carcass of my soul faded.
I was free. Reborn. Alive.