Chapter 26
Jack
“SO ARE YOU going to tell me why you’re letting your friends think you’re the one that stabbed Ian?” Nora hisses at me when we’re all alone again; the others having gone to examine the body and talk with some of the people from the building about anything they might have seen.
Why? That’s a good question. One I’m not really interested in answering. The answer is too pathetic. Too selfish.
“Don’t you think we should be focusing on trying to figure out who killed Cleo?” I attempt to distract her.
“Don’t change the subject,” she cries, throwing up her hands. “One second I think I no longer have to worry about getting charged with murder but then the next I’m wondering if it’s not as simple as all that, if there’s still a possibility that I might be charged with Ian’s death. I mean, why else would you claim responsibility for stabbing him?” She breaks off at a hysterical whisper, and I have to force myself not to wrap her up in a hug. She’s got this all wrong.
But I’m terrified to set her straight.
“That’s not why I let them keep thinking I did it, okay?” The words come out rough and exasperated, and she flinches. I’m off to a great start with this.
“Then why?” Her voice cracks. She’s looking up at me with so much emotion in her green eyes that I can’t figure out where her feelings end and mine begin. Then her hand brushes against mine and everything slides into place.
“I don’t want to lose you,” the admission bursts out of me, like an unbridled horse—wild and free. Something tight in my chest loosens, and I inhale a full breath for what feels like the first time in three years.
“You don’t want to lose me,” Nora echoes. I can’t read her tone, not with my own feelings fighting for center stage, so I barrel on blindly.
“If this case is over, if you’re cleared—” I can’t finish the sentence, but Nora fills in the rest.
“There’s no need for us to stay married,” she whispers. I nod.
“I’m sorry,” I say hoarsely. “It was selfish of me and—”
“So are you saying you want to stay married to me?” she cuts me off.
Suddenly the memory of her turning me down three years ago hits me—sharp and clear. My unbridled horse stumbles over a ditch, leaving me floundering for my footing.
“Jack?” she presses, inching closer to me, eyes wide and beautiful.
“Nora,” I say her name as a plea, but she shakes her head, not backing down.
“Answer me.”
My pride shatters in two as I nod once. “Yes,” I rasp. “Till death do us part.”
The seconds between me saying these words and her answering might as well be an eternity for how long they feel. Finally–after my soul has died a thousand agonizing deaths–she answers, her words soft, but measured.
“You know, Jack, I’ve always found the way you exude confidence and approach life with an air of complete competence so attractive. When we were together I knew you would take care of me no matter what and that made me feel safe and cherished.” She drags in a breath before continuing. I’m hanging on her every word—desperate for her to give me some indication that my confession won’t go unreturned. Wondering if she realizes that it’s all been an act. She thinks I’m competent, but when it comes to her I’ve done everything wrong.
“But I realized recently that I also found it intimidating,” she goes on. “How could I ever measure up to that when most days I feel like a hot mess? You know about my mom and how she moves in and out of my life. I’m expendable to her. She’s never wanted me enough to stay and she certainly doesn’t need me.”
I suck in a breath, hot fury boiling in my chest like lava on the brink of erupting. Suffice it to say I do not like Nora’s mother. Never have, likely never will. I open my mouth to try and voice her worth, but all that comes out is the truth pared down to its simplest form: “But I need you.”
My voice is hoarse, displaying my emotions far too liberally for my comfort, but then Nora’s hands are on my chest, her body pressed up against me, a fierce and determined look in her eyes.
“It’s about time you admitted that, Jack Reynolds,” she declares, then she’s kissing me, and all coherent thought vanishes from my mind as the exhilarating combination of her sweetness and heat courses through me.
“Nora,” I breathe her name as her mouth moves against mine, tugging her closer still. A soft sound escapes her and fire blazes low in my belly. Her hands drag up to my shoulders then slide around my neck, holding me in place. Not that I’m going anywhere. No, I plan on staying right where I am for as long as she’ll let me.
“Okay, now this looks more like a honeymoon,” Stafford’s brash tones interrupt our kiss and I can’t help the angry growl that explodes out of me as Nora pulls away from me. The pink blush of her cheeks gives me a primal satisfaction, and I’m about ready to tell Stafford to go the heck away so I can go back to kissing my wife when I spot what it is that must’ve brought him over here in the first place. Dread coils in my stomach. He went in my car.
“Oh yeah, this.” Stafford’s teasing grin disappears as he lifts the photo and the manila envelope. “Care to explain why you were driving Ian's car last night?”