Deadly Contact (22 page)

His stomach flip-flopped at that, but he refused to get excited about the possibility that she wanted to see him. She’d been very clear in the hospital. Still, his curiosity wouldn’t allow him to stay silent.

“You’ve talked to her?”

Thomas nodded, taking another sip from his glass. James waited for him to elaborate, his impatience mounting as the other man remained infuriatingly silent.

“And?”

Thomas met his gaze. “And what?” he asked, his tone oh-so-casual. He looked for all the world like another clueless guy, but James caught the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth and knew he was being played.

“How is she?” he bit out, his pride taking a backseat to finding out about Kelly. Even though she didn’t want him in her life, he still cared about her. More than he wanted to.

“Like I said, she misses you. I think you should talk to her.”

James mulled this over for a moment. Did she really want to see him again? Could she have changed her mind? Maybe she had reconsidered all the things she’d said in the hospital.

Or was Thomas just setting him up? He didn’t think the other man had anything to gain by sending him in to get his heart ripped out, but maybe he was misreading her signs....

“Did she actually say she misses me?” As soon as the words left his mouth, James winced, knowing he sounded like a fumbling teenager. It couldn’t be helped, though. If he was going to talk to Kelly again, he wanted some kind of assurance he wouldn’t be shot down. He didn’t think he could handle being rejected by the woman he loved a third time.

“She didn’t have to,” Thomas replied, choosing not to comment on James’s sophomoric question. “I can just tell by the way she acts.”

Jealousy was a hot flame in his chest. He’d seen her? Spent time with her? When? Where had they gone? Had it been a date? He narrowed his eyes at the other man, considering him in a new light. He’d seen the way women reacted to Thomas, how he’d lay on the charm and have them eating out of his hand. Had he done that with Kelly? Was she another notch on his bedpost now?

His thoughts must have showed on his face, because Thomas held up a hand. “Whoa. It’s not like that, man, so dial it back a notch. She’s just my friend.”

“I’ve never known you to be just friends with a woman.”

“Well, I am with this one. Besides, she doesn’t want me. She wants you, if you’ll ever man up enough to go after her.”

James turned back to his beer. “It’s complicated.”

Thomas groaned. “Gimme a break. Life is complicated. Why should this be any different?”

“Because it just is.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I used to think you were a smart guy, but you’re clearly not. My mistake.” Thomas stood, drained the last of his beer and threw a bill on the bar. “You have a chance here, something most people don’t get. Kelly is an awesome woman, and if you don’t try to make it work with her, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.” He clapped James on the shoulder, then walked away.

“Thomas?”

The redhead stopped at the door, turning back to look at James with one brow raised.

“She’s okay? Really?”

Thomas sent him an exasperated smile. “Ask her yourself,” he replied, a subtle dare in his tone.

James turned back to the bar, his thoughts swirling. Maybe Thomas was right. No, scratch that. There was no maybe about it—he
knew
Thomas was right. He’d been thinking about Kelly nonstop since the accident, to the detriment of his job performance. And okay, yes, he’d been a little snippy with everyone. It was hard to be cordial when he’d spent his time reliving their conversations over and over again, obsessively looking for any sign that Kelly might be willing to forgive him.

Walking away from her after she’d told him about Gary had been a huge mistake. He’d been overwhelmed at the time, but it didn’t matter. She had needed him, and he had turned his back on her, just like everyone else she’d ever worked up the courage to tell. She deserved so much better than him, but maybe, just maybe, she’d give him another chance to make things right.

He realized now that if he didn’t talk to her again, didn’t try one last time, he would spend the rest of his life carrying around the regret and guilt of letting her go without a fight. After all, if he put himself out there and she rejected him, he could move on, secure in the knowledge that he’d tried everything. But if he didn’t even attempt to win her back, he’d never be able to get rid of the ache in his chest that had become his constant companion since the morning she’d walked out on him all those months ago.

He had to talk to her. She might not roll out the welcome mat for him, but he was going to tell her once and for all how he felt about her. If she laughed in his face, so be it. At least he’d know for sure, which was a damn sight better than wondering.

He just hoped it wasn’t too late to turn things around.

* * *

Kelly frowned at the shirt in her hand, weighing her options. It was her favorite shade of green, but she’d bought it almost six months ago and the tags still fluttered from the sleeve. She should probably throw it in the donation pile, but it was just so pretty....

“All right, you can stay,” she muttered, resolving to wear the shirt soon as she hung it in the large wardrobe box camped out in the middle of her bedroom. She was almost done packing up her closet, and then it was on to the bookshelves.

She was getting close to finishing up, which was a good thing since the movers were coming tomorrow and she still needed to do a quick clean of the bathroom and kitchen. No way was she going to lose her security deposit because the place needed a professional cleaning after she moved out.

Her apartment, already small to begin with, was now a cramped maze of cardboard boxes, with half-finished rolls of packing tape and stacks of newspaper adding to the overall aesthetic. She hated the claustrophobic feel and was looking forward to settling into her new place. It was a little bit smaller, but the amazing view of the Potomac more than made up for the loss of space.

So she had set about packing up her belongings, getting rid of things she no longer needed or hadn’t used in years. Thomas had driven her to the local Goodwill on several occasions so she could drop off loads of stuff that she didn’t want to take with her. Hopefully, someone else could use her leftovers.

It felt good to purge her home like this. Clearing out all the unwanted items really felt like a fresh start, something she needed to do to move on with her life.

She’d known in the hospital that she couldn’t stay in this apartment. Not after the shooting. She only had to close her eyes to see the shadowy figure standing in her den, his arm raised. And even though she knew it was impossible, every once in a while she’d catch a whiff of gun smoke and cordite, and she’d be taken back to that awful night. It had taken her several days before she’d been able to sleep at night, and even now she slept fitfully; every little noise jerked her awake, her heart threatening to pound right out of her chest.

Moving was the best thing for her to do, even though it was an exhausting process made even more tiring by the fact that she still wasn’t back to feeling 100 percent. The doctor had told her to take things easy for a while, and she would—just as soon as she got settled into her new home.

She pulled another shirt off the rack and froze. It was the shirt she’d worn the night she and James...

Kelly tossed it in the donation pile as if it was a lit firecracker. One of the benefits to being wrapped up in the move was that she hadn’t had time to think of James. But seeing that shirt again hit her like a punch to the stomach, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the flood of memories.

She’d made the right choice. She had. Yes, it still hurt, and yes, she missed him something fierce, but in the end, they weren’t meant for each other.

So what if she felt as if a part of her was missing? As if she had a hole in her heart that was never going to heal? Loving someone meant you did what was best for them, and it was clear she wasn’t what was best for James. It was the truth, and she just had to keep repeating that until she accepted it.

Which she would. Eventually.

With hands that shook ever so slightly, she lifted the shirt from the donation pile and smoothed out the wrinkles. Then she hung it in the wardrobe box. She couldn’t just throw it away. It was still a good shirt, even with all the painful memories that seemed woven into the fabric. Maybe one day she could even wear it and not feel as if her heart was breaking all over again.

Maybe.

The doorbell rang, and the harsh sound made her jump. She shook her head as she wiped a stray tear from her cheek. It was just the pizza. She had to get her nerves under control and stop thinking that every noise, every unexpected sound was a threat. Her therapist had told her it would take time to feel safe again, but she was tired of being afraid.

She walked to the door, wishing for the umpteenth time she had a peephole. It was a little thing, but it made a huge difference to her peace of mind. With a deep breath, she reached out to lay a hand on the baseball bat she’d taken to leaving by the door. The wood was smooth and cool under her fingers, and although it probably wouldn’t do her any good, it made her feel better to know she had some means of protecting herself.

It’s fine,
she told herself, reaching out to lay her hand on the dead bolt. Knowing that if she didn’t act now her insecurities would get the better of her, she flipped back the lock and twisted the doorknob, pasting on a false smile as she opened the door to get her dinner.

Except it wasn’t the pizza delivery guy standing on her threshold.

She blinked in sudden confusion at the sight that greeted her.

Her dinner had arrived, all right, but rather than some pimply teenage boy, it was James who held the thin rectangular box in his large hands.

Kelly caught her breath as she drank in the sight of him. He looked amazing, standing there in a T-shirt and jeans, his broad shoulders nearly the width of her door. His hair was a little longer, the ends curling up at his neck and over his ears. He probably hadn’t had time to cut it lately, if the stubble darkening his cheeks and the dark shadows under his eyes were any indication. She knew from Thomas that they’d all been working overtime lately, but seeing James looking less than his usual polished self really drove the point home.

His dark eyes were focused intently on her, as if he was waiting to see if she’d run. He shifted on his feet, and she caught a whiff of his soap and detergent. She nearly groaned aloud as memories washed over her, making her knees weak and her stomach flutter.
God, he still smells the same.

His lips curved up in a tentative, almost shy smile. “Hey,” he said softly. His voice was husky in the silence, and Kelly felt goose bumps break out across her skin as a thrill of awareness swept through her.

Feeling suddenly parched, she swiped her tongue across her lips to moisten them. His eyes zeroed in on the movement, then flicked back to meet hers.

“Hi,” she replied, feeling like an idiot as she stood there gaping at him like a love-struck fool. Why was he here? What was she supposed to say to him?

“Can I come in?” he asked, his expression simultaneously hopeful and guarded.

When she didn’t respond, he held up the pizza box. “I brought dinner.”

She nodded dumbly, stepping aside to let him enter the apartment. “How did you know I wanted pizza tonight?”

He stepped past her, careful not to brush against her as he walked in. “I ran into the guy downstairs and offered to bring it up.”

“Oh.” So that explained it. Releasing her hold on the bat, Kelly shut the door and reached for her purse. “Let me pay you.”

“No need,” he said quickly. “But I hope you don’t mind if I have some with you.”

She shrugged, hyperaware of his eyes on her. “Be my guest.”

He looked around her apartment, taking stock of the stacks of boxes and the empty shelves. “When are you moving?”

“Tomorrow.”

Something flashed in his eyes at the news, and he swallowed hard before turning away to set the pizza on her coffee table.

He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Where—” It came out as a rasp, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Where are you going?”

She debated lying to him for a split second. She could tell him she was moving across the country and that she’d never see him again. With one word, she could make sure he was completely cut out of her life, that her heart was protected. It would be so easy.

But the way he was looking at her now, his big brown eyes almost pleading, gave her pause. He deserved the truth. Besides, she didn’t have the energy to lie.

“Alexandria.”

His shoulders slumped at the word, and he briefly closed his eyes as he exhaled loudly. Then he gave her a relieved smile, and the fatigue and worry on his face disappeared for a moment. “That’s great.”

“Why are you here?” Being this close to him again was distracting. She could practically
feel
her resolve weakening every time he looked at her, and God help her if he tried to touch her. She’d worked hard to build a wall around her heart after sending him away in the hospital, but seeing him now and hearing his voice again made her realize she still had a lot of work to do if she was going to get over him.

His smile slipped a bit at her blunt question. “I was hoping we could talk.”

That was...surprising. And unexpected. He was supposed to just go away so she could mend her broken heart in peace. Didn’t he understand why she had asked him to leave? Did she really have to spell it out for him?

She bit her bottom lip. “I don’t really have anything to say.” She spoke slowly, feeling her way through the murky conversational waters.

James took a step forward, his expression earnest. “That’s okay. You can just listen to me.” He gestured back to the pizza. “Do you want to eat while I talk to you?”

She shook her head. A nervous flutter had taken up residence in her stomach at the sight of him, and she didn’t trust that food would stay down right now. Better to hear what he had to say without the added worry of throwing up on him.