Chapter Eleven #2
Which was one more reason to stay well away from Summer.
Not only was he sexually attracted to her, which was raising all kinds of red flags, but he also found her mind appealing in ways no other woman had done.
He was already invested in her story; who wouldn’t be after finding out that a simple break and enter had morphed into something much more sinister and now she was the target of an eco-terrorist?
The protector within him was desperate to keep her safe, but another part of him was also desperate to delve deeper into that dark well of emotions simmering just below the surface.
There was a sad past there; he could tell.
Which was no business of his, he reminded himself, shaking his head to clear it of the lame thoughts.
“Thank you,” he replied, squeezing past her to get through the doorway.
“Just let me know if there’s anything you need.
I’m going to make a coffee and some toast. Are you hungry?
” There wasn’t a lot of food in the house; he’d left it pretty much empty when he’d gone on holiday, and he’d need to make a trip to the local supermarket this afternoon if they were going to eat anything decent for dinner.
“Yes, please, that would be lovely.” He’d noticed that Summer had eaten nothing on the flight, and while he didn’t blame her—airline food could be abominable—she must be starving by now.
While it was mid-afternoon here, it was still only early morning back in Seattle, so his stomach was confused, not knowing what it wanted to eat. He guessed she was probably the same.
She settled on a stool on the far side of the kitchen island and watched as he busied himself taking bread out of the freezer and popping four slices into the toaster.
Then he turned on the coffee machine, filling it with water and ground beans.
All the while, her eyes followed his every move.
It was a little disquieting, but also…homely somehow.
“Does your family live close by?” Her question surprised him.
“Not really. My mother, Nora, lives in Stockholm, as do my brother, Eric, and his family,” he replied, placing the butter and jam on the island bench. “It’s only a seven-hour train ride to see them, or a couple of hours on a plane.”
“So, you moved away when you became a cop?”
“Yeah, I did my training in Ume?, a town a few hours drive south of here. I was offered a position here as a newly minted cop, and I guess I stayed.”
“What about your father? You didn’t mention him.”
“He died just before I was born. Crashed his car into a frozen lake in Norway. That’s one reason my mother moved us to Sweden.
” Not that M?rten didn’t like to talk about his dad; it was just that he had no memories of him, so there was nothing to talk about.
Eric had been two when their father, Anders, had died, and even he admitted he couldn’t remember him.
It was only through photos and Nora’s stories of how she’d fallen in love at first sight with the American architect that M?rten knew him at all.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Summer’s face crumpled. “That must be hard.”
“Not really. I grew up in a family with a single mother—she never remarried or even dated until we were old enough to move out—and so I knew nothing different.” Which was all true.
The part he didn’t tell most people was that money was always tight.
His mother had moved them to Stockholm to take her dream job at a holistic healing clinic, but the salary was barely enough to get them through.
Even though both he and Eric got jobs as soon as they were old enough, it was still a struggle.
Now, however, both he and Eric earned good wages, and his mother had taken the plunge after they’d left home and started her own holistic healing business, which was doing well.
“I guess.” Summer shrugged delicately, and his eyes were drawn to the smooth roundness of her shoulders, bare beneath her dark blue tank.
She’d traveled in an oversized hoodie and leggings on the plane, but as soon as they’d stepped out into the Swedish sunshine, she’d removed the sweater with a sigh of delight and he hadn’t been able to look away from how the tight tank and leggings hugged her curves, showing off her sculpted body.
Quick, think of something else. He was about to open mouth to inquire about her family when she changed the subject, asking, “What is this?” She picked up the jar and tipped it so she could examine the orange contents more closely.
“It’s cloudberry jam. This one is homemade.
” He didn’t hide his grin of delight. “It’s a northern delicacy.
The cloudberries grow wild in the forest. Only the locals know where they grow, and their picking spots are kept a tightly held secret, often passed down within the family.
If you’re very lucky, someone will share a jar or two with you when they make a batch. ”
“Do you have your own clandestine cache?” she asked, tipping her head to the side coyly.
“This was a present,” he admitted. “I help one of the elderly residents down the road sometimes. Chop her wood, shovel her driveway in the winter, that kind of thing.”
“And she repays you with jam.” Summer’s sardonic smile turned thoughtful. “That’s nice of you. I like that idea. A community doing things for each other. It’s good.”
M?rten shrugged. That was just how it was here; Summer was a city girl, not used to the way people took care of each other in small towns. When he looked up from where he’d been placing clean plates on the countertop, he found her dark eyes riveted on him, her chin resting in her palm.
“The hardened cop has a softer side,” she said, almost to herself.
“What?”
“Never mind.” She waved a hand in front of her face. “Hurry up, I’m desperate to try this jam.”
Right at that moment, the toaster popped, and he juggled two pieces onto her plate, then did the same to his.
He came around, took the stool next to hers and watched her sideways as she slathered butter and then cloudberry jam on her toast. She took an enormous bite, and he couldn’t help himself, he had to turn and observe her expressive face as she tasted one of his favorite things in the whole wide world.
First, she closed her eyes, long dark lashes laying on her tawny cheeks.
Then she pursed her lips, but continued to chew slowly, rolling the food around in her mouth.
At last she swallowed, the tip of her tongue coming out to lick the crumbs off her lips, and her eyes flew open as a broad smile spread across her face.
He was so fixated on her tongue as it disappeared, leaving her plump lips succulent and pink, that he almost forgot to breathe, catching himself just-in-time to force his gaze upward to meet hers. God almighty, that’d been about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
“It’s delicious,” she declared.
“I’m glad you like it,” he replied, hoping she couldn’t hear the slight hoarseness in his voice.
She went back to eating as he buttered his toast, shifting uncomfortably on the stool to ease the bulge in his pants. This was the second time in half an hour he’d reacted to her presence. It was as if he was hyper-aware of her, and every little thing she did turned him on.
He needed to get laid; it’d been too long. Just not with Summer. Right now, give him ten minutes alone in the bedroom and he’d have himself sorted. He should have thought of that earlier, while they’d been back in Seattle, even. Maybe he wouldn’t be so focused on her every move then.
He returned to the topic of her family, just to give himself something to take his mind off his edginess.
“Jacob texted earlier and confirmed they now have an agent watching each of your family’s houses.
” That’d been part of the deal. Summer had been worried that if Tyrone knew who she was, he might target her family to get back at her.
In a private conversation, Jacob had admitted to M?rten he thought the risk was low, but his boss had agreed to give the family protection, at least for the next few days.
Summer could have peace of mind on that count.
“Mmm, thank you,” she mumbled through a piece of toast. “I got a message from Jasmine earlier telling me she felt like she was living in a spy novel, because there is now a dark sedan parked the other side of the road to her house, and a sinister-looking man who follows her everywhere,” she went on, swallowing her mouthful.
“I hate scaring her and the rest of my family. And I hate not being able to tell them what’s really going on.
” She screwed up her pretty nose in disgust. “Surely, this is all a storm in a teacup. I’ve handed over the photos; it’s too late, the FBI know everything.
What more can he want from me now?” Summer grimaced, her lustrous mouth turning down at the corners.
“Anyway, I texted Jasmine back it wouldn’t be for long, and I’ll explain the whole situation soon. ”
He had to disagree. Tyrone didn’t necessarily know she’d found the incriminating photo, let alone given it to the cops.
And even if he did, his violence seemed to be escalating alarmingly.
He may want her dead as retribution. Which was why her family was being guarded.
Tyrone was a wild card; no one could predict what he’d do next.
“You told me your family was from Mexico, and they moved to live in San Jose?” He’d heard the bare basics of her background, that she had three sisters all of who still lived in San Jose to be near their parents, but he’d like to know more.