CHAPTER FOUR
– HELENA –
Ballard locks his truck as we walk to my sister’s house. Last night, after he agreed to become my fake boyfriend, I showed him the invitation I received. The invitation to my sister’s party is what gave me the idea of asking for Ballard’s help, after clearing it with Orson, of course.
I could have tried to do it by myself, but the thought of facing my family by myself and handling this case alone along with it? Too many distractions. Not to mention, the emotional, legal, and ethical conflicts I’d be facing.
Everything is on record, and I’m the only person with the right connection who might be able to crack this case.
Orson actually suggested Ballard as the right person to be my partner during this sting operation.
We went by the station earlier today, and Ballard signed some forms to make things official.
I throw a glance at the man who is now wearing black boots, dark jeans, and a white crisp dress shirt instead of a flannel one. He’s looking all business instead of the rugged mountain man version I saw last night. His dark gaze hits me and one of his eyebrows moves up.
“Let me do all the talking, okay?” I tell him, and cringe when his mouth turns into a flat line.
Okay, definitely a bad choice of words.
I smack a flat hand against his chest. “Don’t act like I stepped on your dick. You know very well you’re capable of using other ways to talk. Like you did just now by giving me one look.”
Ballard shows me his middle finger.
I narrow my eyes. “Definitely no use of obscene signals either. You’re my backup.
The one who will keep his ears open and documents every detail.
I did some digging into your background after Orson suggested you as my partner.
You inhale knowledge with your eyes. Well, that’s how Murray describes your ability to learn things quickly. ”
He shrugs and I turn to fully face him. “You’re also here to keep me in check. I hate my half-sister and despise my father. This won’t work if I blow it. It’s going to be hard enough to do my job, but harder to act as if I want to reconcile.”
I can feel my temper rising just thinking about talking to both my family members. Ballard steps closer and with it breaks my personal space. I’m about to back up when I feel his hand on my ass.
“What the...” My voice abruptly stops when his lips inch closer to mine. “Right. We’re playing...need to...yes. Kissing here first would be...”
I don’t get a chance to finish whatever I was going to say when his mouth covers mine. My heart skips a beat, and the feel of his lips on mine...and then his tongue is gliding over my bottom lip. Holy hotness, sparks of lust are spreading warmth throughout my body.
He doesn’t deepen the kiss, and it merely feels like he’s testing the waters. Shit. Agreeing to a fake relationship with a man you’re attracted to is a bad idea. A very, insanely, batshit crazy idea that feels so freaking right. Ugh.
“Okay,” I breathe, and have to clear my throat and mutter, “Dammit, I can’t think. You’ll not only inhale knowledge but suck it right out of my brain too if you keep kissing me.”
The hoarse, breathy sounding puff reaches my ear again. This time I recognize it for what it is, a soundless bark of laughter.
Reaching out, I let my fingers caress his bearded jaw. Something I’ve been curious about, and the feelings it creates both inside and out are very freaking satisfying.
“Let’s keep the kissing to a minimum.” I cringe. “Look, I know this was my idea, and clearly, I didn’t think things through. With what happened to me, I thought it would be a nice way to initiate some clinical intimacy, but you make me react differently.”
Again with the raised eyebrow.
I push against his chest and take a step back. “I don’t know why either, okay? Normally kissing doesn’t even draw a reaction from my body while you make it seem like you’re lighting a match, and who knows what comes next? And why are we even discussing this? Come on. We’re going inside.”
One step is all I take when I’m swooped back and kissed as if he’s a damn prince needing to wake up a princess.
Holy shit. Fire sparks inside my veins and I moan into the man’s mouth.
I’m reaching for his shirt and start to curl my hands into fists when he places me back on my feet and steps away from me.
My balance is slightly off, and I sway on my feet. I’m breathing hard and again there’s a fog in my brain. What the hell else is this man capable of? Too damn potent. With what happened in my past, I really thought the touch of another man would repel me.
Watching this man bleed out under my hands made me panic and a primal need of survival kicked in; I had to save him. By doing so I started to fantasize about him saving me in the nightmares I still had. Nightmares which were basically memories from the time the serial killer took me.
The one getting sliced with a knife was me, not Ballard, and he was the one saving me.
..in my dreams. Dammit, some things should stay dreams because now I’ve had a taste of what it could be between us.
Something I can’t allow to happen. Dreams are meant to stay dreams due to the fact that reality is like a slap in the face.
The next step for kissing means getting naked. Something tells me this man won’t have sex in the dark, and even then, I wouldn’t be able to hide my scars. The thought of what that serial killer managed to do to me before they found me and killed him is like being doused with a bucket of cold water.
I practically run to the door and knock.
A butler opens the door and lets us in, asking for our coats.
Ballard doesn’t have one, however since I’m always cold these days, I do.
I shrug out of my coat and hand it to the butler.
A few men in tuxedos rush through the hallway carrying trays with empty glasses.
My sister keeps inviting me to her parties, though I rarely attend them. The amount she organizes a year is excessive. She’s the kind of person who would throw a party when a blocked fart has finally left her ass.
The butler points at the open doors of the living room and a few heads of the people gathered turn toward us.
“Helena, you came,” Jolene gushes as if we’re loving sisters who spend time together on a regular basis.
Her reaction is due to the people she invited, which is why I plaster a fake smile on my face.
“Oh, and who did you bring?” She eyes Ballard.
Jolene knows exactly who Ballard is, but I keep my smile in place when I tell her, “My...” boyfriend sounds weird. “Ballard. We’re together...dating, and I didn’t think you’d mind if I brought him along.”
Jolene’s eyes are locked on Ballard’s neck, probably to see any of the scars Nolan inflicted, when she murmurs, “You’re dating, how nice.”
“Ballard,” Royce suddenly rumbles from our left. “Fancy meeting you here.”
My father, though he’s never been one. He certainly doesn’t deserve the sentiment in my eyes, so he’ll always be Royce to me.
“I could say the same,” is the first thing that comes to mind, but it doesn’t come out of my mouth.
Ballard takes Royce’s hand and shakes it. Ballard’s gaze turns to me, and he slides his arm around me.
Royce catches Ballard’s smooth move. “You’re together?”
Apparently, we’ve bored Jolene since she walks off without another word. I’m about to open my mouth to reply to Royce when I feel a warm hand on my stomach. Glancing down, and to Ballard, I’m completely at a loss for words.
“Seriously?” Royce grunts and is staring at Ballard who nods.
What the hell is going on? I try to reach for Ballard’s wrist when I see him pull out his phone. Dammit. Wasn’t I clear on the whole no speaking thing? The man doesn’t even have a damn voice for crying out loud, and he’s taking over completely the second we step inside.
Within seconds he’s holding it out for Ballard to read who stuns me completely when he says, “Pregnant? Man, you move fast. I guess it’s because she saved you, eh?”
Royce pats Ballard’s shoulder as if he’s proud of him.
Turning to me he says, “So, you will be on desk duty I presume? Maybe quit your job to take care of the child? You’re not working any active cases now, are you?
You got hurt once before on the job. Luckily, we don’t get any serial killers around here.
Though, you should be careful with a baby in your belly. ”
I grit my teeth because the man who’s standing before me, the one I share DNA with, is in my eyes a damn serial killer himself.
“We don’t have many open cases,” I lie.
Royce’s smile brightens and he turns to Ballard. “I know you turned in your resignation, but I would like to offer you a job. Your talent is wasted if you stay up that mountain, and between you and me? Raising a child is expensive. Let’s talk.”
They walk off and I’m left to mingle by myself. Awesome. This sting is turning into a shitshow.