When she finally reached it, she bent forward and looked through the peephole.
Jay was grinning back at her from outside.
Her heart leaped for a completely different reason.
She set aside her crutches and quickly unbolted the door to open it.
"What took you so long?"
Her knee was bent and her ankle pulled up off the ground. She balanced against the doorjamb. "What d'you think, dumbass?" she retorted smartly, keeping her voice down so she wouldn't alert her parents. "You scared the crap out of me, by the way. My parents are already in bed, and I was all alone down here."
"Good!" he exclaimed as he reached in and grabbed her around the waist, dragging her up against him and wrapping his arms around her.
She giggled while he held her there, enjoying everything about the feel of him against her. "What are you doing here? I thought I wouldn't see you till tomorrow."
"I wanted to show you something!" He beamed at her, and his enthusiasm reached out to capture her in its grip. She couldn't help smiling back excitedly.
"What is it?" she asked breathlessly.
He didn't release her; he just turned, still holding her gently in his arms, so that she could see out into the driveway. The first thing she noticed was the officer in his car, alert now as he kept a watchful eye on the two of them. Violet realized that it was late, already past eleven, and from the look on his face, she thought he must have been hoping for a quiet, uneventful evening out there.
And then she saw the car. It was beautiful and sleek, painted a glossy black that, even in the dark, reflected the light like a polished mirror. Violet recognized the Acura insignia on the front of the hood, and even though she could tell it wasn't brand-new, it looked like it had been well taken care of.
"Whose is it?" she asked admiringly. It was way better than her crappy little Honda.
Jay grinned again, his face glowing with enthusiasm. "It's mine. I got it tonight. That's why I had to go. My mom had the night off, and I wanted to get it before..." He smiled down at her. "I didn't want to borrow your car to take you to the dance."
"Really?" she breathed. "How...? I didn't even know you were..." She couldn't seem to find the right words; she was envious and excited for him all at the same time.
"I know right?" he answered, as if she'd actually asked coherent questions. "I've been saving for...for forever, really. What do you think?"
Violet smiled at him, thinking that he was entirely too perfect for her. "I think it's beautiful," she said with more meaning than he understood. And then she glanced back at the car. "I had no idea that you were getting a car. I love it, Jay," she insisted, wrapping her arms around his neck as he hoisted her up, cradling her like a small child."
"I'd offer to take you for a test-drive, but I'm afraid that Supercop over there would probably Taser me with his stun gun. So you'll have to wait until tomorrow," he said, and without waiting for an invitation he carried her inside, dead bolting the door behind him.
He settled down on the couch, where she'd been sitting by herself just moments before, without letting her go. There was a movie on the television, but neither of them paid any attention to it as Jay reclined, stretching out and drawing her down into the circle of his arms. They spent the rest of the night like that, cradled together, their bodies fitting each other perfectly, as they kissed and whispered and laughed quietly in the darkness.
At some point Violet was aware that she was drifting into sleep, as her thoughts turned dreamlike, becoming disjointed and fuzzy and hard to hold on to. She didn't fight it; she enjoyed the lazy, drifting feeling, along with the warmth created by the cocoon of Jay's body wrapped protectively around her.
It was the safest she'd felt in days...maybe weeks...
And for the first time since she'd been chased by the man in the woods, her dreams were free from monsters.
Jay's downstairs waiting."
With her father on one side, and the handrail on the other, Violet descended the stairs as if she were floating. Jay stood at the bottom, watching her, frozen in place like a statue.
His black suit looked as if it had been tailored just for him. His jacket fell across his strong shoulders in a perfect line, tapering at his narrow waist. The crisp white linen shirt beneath stood out in contrast against the dark, finely woven wool. He smiled appreciatively as he watched her approach, and Violet felt her breath catch in her throat at the striking image of flawlessness that he presented.
"You...are so beautiful," he whispered fervently as he strode toward her, taking her dad's place at her arm.
She smiled sheepishly up at him. "So are you."
Her mom insisted on taking no fewer than a hundred pictures of the two of them, both alone and together, until Violet felt like her eyes had been permanently damaged by the blinding flash. Finally her father called off her mom, dragging her away into the kitchen so that Violet and Jay could have a moment alone together.
"I meant it," he said. "You look amazing."
She shook her head, not sure what to say, a little embarrassed by the compliment.
"I got you something," he said to her as he reached inside his jacket. "I hope you don't mind, it's not a corsage."
Violet couldn't have cared less about having flowers to pin on her dress, but she was curious about what he had brought for her. She watched as he dragged out the moment longer than he needed to, taking his time to reveal his surprise.
"I got you this instead." He pulled out a black velvet box, the kind that holds fine jewelry. It was long and narrow.
She gasped as she watched him lift the lid.
Inside was a delicate silver chain, and on it was the polished outline of a floating silver heart that drifted over the chain that held it.
Violet reached out to touch it with her fingertip. "It's beautiful," she sighed.
He lifted the necklace from the box and held it out to her. "May I?" he asked.
She nodded, her eyes bright with excitement as he clasped the silver chain around her bare throat. "Thank you," she breathed, interlacing her hand into his and squeezing it meaningfully.
She reluctantly used the crutches to get out to the car, since there were no handrails for her to hold on to. She left like they ruined the overall effect she was going for.
Jay's car was as nice on the inside as it was outside. The interior was rich, smoky gray leather that felt like soft butter as he helped her inside. Aside from a few minor flaws, it could have passed for brand-new. The engine purred to life when he turned the key in the ignition, something that her car had never done. Roar, maybe-purr, never.
She was relieved that her uncle hadn't ordered a police escort for the two of them to the dance. She had half expected to see a procession of marked police cars, lights swirling and sirens blaring, in the wake of Jay's sleek black Acura.
Despite sitting behind the wheel of his shiny new car, Jay could scarcely take his eyes off her. His admiring gaze found her over and over again, while he barely concentrated on the road ahead of him. Fortunately they didn't have far to go.
Yeah, Jules!" Chelsea said in a voice thick with envy. "Go away, you're making the rest of us look bad." She winked at Jule's date wickedly. "I bet you just want to eat her up, don't ya?"
He stared at Chelsea with bewilderment and glanced back at Jules for help.
"Just ignore her," Jules explained over the noise from the sound system. "She doesn't get out much."
Chelsea tried to look hurt by Jule's words, but she couldn't quite pull it off. "I'm just sayin', Jules, he'd better watch his back tonight, or I might be trying to take you away from him." Chelsea loved to play the potentially bi-curious card, even though everyone knew she liked boys far too much to go to bat for the other team.
"Gross!" cried Claire, who wasn't pretending at all. Claire hated it when the conversation deviated too far off her straight and narrow path. The operative word being straight.
"Don't worry, Claire-bear," Chelsea soothed condescendingly. "I'm not going to hook up with Jules." She wrapped her arm around Claire's waist and then said suggestively in he ear, "I'm much more likely to make a move on you."
"Eww!" Claire shrieked, shoving Chelsea away. "Get away from me!"
"Leave her alone, Chels," Jules interrupted. "Or you're gonna make her start her 'It's Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve' speech. And sorry, Claire, but none of us really want to hear that."
Jay pulled Violet close to him as they listened to the familiar, playful bantering. He slid his arm around her waist from behind, and let his lips gently tease her earlobe while no one was paying attention to the two of them. Violet wanted to turn around right there, in his arms, and forget this whole dance thing altogether.
"Hey!" Chelsea's voice interrupted them, and Violet jumped a little, realizing that everyone was staring at them. "Did you hear me?"
Violet leaned forward on her crutches and away from Jay, still feeling bemused by the close and intimate contact. "What?" she asked, trying to focus on what had been said.
"I said, 'I gotta pee.' Let's go to the bathroom," Chelsea repeated as if Violet were some sort of imbecile, incapable of understanding normal human speech.
"Keep it up, Chels, and none of us is gonna want to hook up with you tonight," Violet promised jokingly.
Chelsea grinned at Violet. "I like the way you think, Violet Ambrose. Maybe you'll be the lucky girl I choose.' And then she turned to Jay. "Don't worry, I've got her from here," Chelsea announced. Jules and Claire followed.
Violet laughed and glanced back at him. "I'll only be a few."
Jay gave her a skeptical look that no one else would have even noticed, as he assessed the three girls who would be escorting Violet. And then he finally nodded. "Okay, I'm gonna show these guys my car." He was beaming again. "I'll be right outside, but I won't be long."
Violet did her best to keep up with the trio ahead of her, but it was hard on one high heel and two crutches. Finally she yelled at them exasperatedly, "If you guys don't wait, I'm not going!"
They all three stopped and turned around.
Chelsea tapped her lovely silver shoe impatiently. "Hurry up, Violet, or I swear I'll take you off my list.
She does not even look kind of cute!" Claire stated, her face a mask of mock horror.
They all started at her, not sure what to say.
And then once again, of course, it was Chelsea who broke the stunned silence. "I swear, Claire-bear, I am going to call your mom and tell her you need to start riding the short bus. You really need to start practicing your bitchy comments. What are you gonna do when we're not here to get your back?"
Claire rolled her eyes, too oblivious to be insulted, which was why she was the perfect friend for Chelsea, who was too insulting to be oblivious. "Geez, Chels, I don't even ride the bus."
Jules couldn't help herself; despite her best efforts to hold on to her detached cool, she started laughing. And pretty soon they were all laughing, even Claire, who still didn't realize what they were laughing at.
"You guys are so mean!" Violet charged accusingly. "Can't you just have fun and stop picking everyone apart?"
Chelsea looked disgusted. "You've gone soft, haven't you? Jay has made you soft!"
Violet rolled her eyes, smiling despite her best efforts. "Whatever. Everyone's soft compared to you."
"Ouch!" Chelsea pretended to be wounded. But again, she just couldn't pull it off.
Violet turned in time to see Jay coming in. His grin was mischievous and wicked at the same time. She practically leaped into his arms as he closed the door behind him.
He laughed against the top of her head. "I missed you too."
She lifted her face to his, and he kissed her, his arms pulling her closer.
"I just came to say good night," he said between hungry kisses.
"So say it."
He kissed her again, and then again, but he never said good night...or good-bye.
"Good night," she finally whispered when his lips left hers.
She was grateful ever single day that Jay had only been grazed by the first shot fired that night. Grateful that the wounded officer-the killer-in the hallway had been too dazed to fire straight. And even more grateful that her uncle had come around the corner in time to fire the second shot...the deadly one.
Jay watched her, reading the thoughts clearly on her face. And then he smiled and lifted her into his arms, kissing her lightly on her forehead, her cheeks, her nose. "Maybe I can stay for a little while," he breathed as he finally found her lips.
Violet knew that everything was going to be all right no.
Jay was safe. The killer was dead.
She curled into Jay as he pulled her down against his shoulder.
Everything was better than all right-it was perfect.
I miss the smell of him. I miss his lips and his strong arms. I miss him.
Kimberly DertingMots clés love strong scent remembering miss him lips-touch
He considered her request before answering, and she could tell he was enjoying this. Jay loved this particular weakness of hers. “You can guess, but I’m still not telling.”
“What if I guess right?”
“Then you’d be pretty freakin’ amazing.”
She pretended to be offended. “So, what if I don’t figure it out . . . ?”
His uneven grin made an appearance. “You’re still pretty freakin’ amazing, Violet.” He lifted her hand, pressing it lightly to his lips.
Violet felt herself blushing. She knew how to handle his teasing, but she still hadn’t gotten used to this gentler, sweeter side of him.
“You’re such a girl,” she chided, but somehow the words came out too soft . . . too tender, and ended up sounding like a compliment.
Jay just laughed. “So what does that make you, the guy?” He squeezed her hand even tighter, keeping it buried in his.
“Or some sort of lesbian,” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe we should try out a little girl-on-girl action.”
“Nice, Violet. Do you kiss your mom with that mouth?” His eyes glinted as he watched her.
She leaned closer to him in the darkness of the car’s interior. “No, but I’ll kiss you with it.”
He set her hand back in her lap. “Watch it, Vi, or I might pull over right now and we’ll never make it there.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Make it where?”
“Nice try, but you can’t distract me that easily . . . it’s still a surprise.
She tried again. “Did you ever tell anyone? Does your mom know?”
He lifted her hand to his mouth and rubbed her knuckles across his lower lip, his gaze locked with hers. “No,” he promised. “I swore I wouldn’t, not even her. I think she knows something, or at least she thinks you have the worst luck ever, since you found all those dead girls.” He lowered his voice. “She was really worried about you after the shooting last year. You’re like a daughter to her.” He leaned close. “Of course, that makes it kind of creepy when I do things like this.”
He kissed her. It was intimate. Not soft or sweet this time, it was deep and passionate, stealing Violet’s breath.
Instead of expensive fish eggs and stinky cheeses, Jay had packed Doritos and chicken soft tacos—Violet’s favorites. And instead of grapes, he brought Oreos.
He knew her way too well.
Violet grinned as he pulled out two clear plastic cups and a bottle of sparkling cider. She giggled. “What? No champagne?”
He shrugged, pouring a little of the bubbling apple juice into each of the flimsy cups. “I sorta thought that a DUI might ruin the mood.” He lifted his cup and clinked—or rather tapped—it against hers. “Cheers.” He watched her closely as she took a sip.
Funnier still how much faith her parents put in him, considering the fact that Jay would officially be younger than Violet in less than a week.
Violet was about to turn seventeen, while Jay would still be sixteen for nearly two full months/
Jay liked that, the whole older-woman thing. He also liked to joke about the fact that Violet would soon be dating a younger man.
One night, when Violet’s parents had gone out, he teased her about it, whispering against his throat, “I should probably be dating girls my own age now that you’ll be over-the-hill.” Jay was stretched out on Violet’s bed as she curled against him.
Violet laughed, rising to the bait. “Fine,” she challenged, pulling away and leaning up on her elbow. “I’m sure there are plenty of men my own age who would be willing to finish what you’ve started.
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