“A bedroom with a full wall of mirrors, free weights and a home gym. There’s a treadmill in there, too,” he added, “but I’m not much into running as a form of exercise.”

  Neither was she—into running. She liked inline skating, though.

  With a sideways glance at her, he quirked an eyebrow. “I’m getting the impression you aren’t taking me seriously here.”

  “I’m not finding anything to take,” she told him. “You’re going on like you’re some kind of freak man or something.”

  “Liv suffered from my inability to sit through the tough moments, or hours, with her. I’ve had a victim or two over the years who was negatively impacted by my lack of empathy. I tend to prefer to stick to the facts.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say. “If you’re expecting me to convince you otherwise, to tell you that I’m sure you’ll come through if I need you to, or something, I’m sorry to disappoint you. Or if you’re expecting me to find you lacking...same response.” She’d never had anyone give a friendship precursor before. Or had one come with warnings.

  He looked at her. She looked back. “You’ve had your share of being blindsided by the people you let into your life,” he said. “I don’t want to be one of those people.”

  In that moment, she fell in love.

  * * *

  He needed to kiss her. To take her into his arms and not let go for at least the rest of the night. They’d agreed to become friends, not lovers.

  He touched her sweet face, hating that she’d once again been physically attacked that night. Hating more that she’d come through it, taken it, as though it wasn’t all that big of a deal.

  Said far too much about the life she’d lived.

  And explained even more clearly why she championed her brother so much.

  Her fingers reached up, and while he was thinking she was going to pull his hand away, she touched his face, instead. “I’ve been wanting to do this since the first time you showed up at my door,” she told him. And then, leaning forward, she pressed her lips against his.

  It was just a light touch. Nothing at all come-hither. Maybe even just a thank-you. His body reacted as though he’d been prepped for liftoff, though. Immediate and intense, the response shocked him. Embarrassed him a little.

  He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her closer, supporting her head as he pressed harder against her, opening his mouth over hers, ready to coax her to do the same.

  Her tongue met his without any need of teasing. Tempting him further. Urging him to pull her body closer, then to lean over, laying them both back on the couch with him half on top of her, half beside her.

  He lifted his free hand, maybe heading toward her face again, but it was shaking so hard he let it drop at her waist. Held on. And continued to explore the taste of her. Her lips moved with his, opening, accepting, giving back. She didn’t quite suckle him, but they did this thing, this kind of moving against him, it was like they held his lips, caressed them—all in a kiss.

  And her tongue...it slow danced, teased, like none other.

  What the hell? Kissing was kissing. The get-through-it-to-get-to-it part.

  He didn’t rush to it. Wanted to linger right where he was. Aware of every second. He was going to make love to her. He had no doubt about that now.

  But...

  When his body was perilously close to exploding from the pleasure of her—and he hadn’t yet even touched her breasts—Greg sat up, pulling her with him.

  “I want you so badly it hurts,” he said, not quite evenly—and breathing a little hard. With one downward glance, she’d know the state he was in. His jeans were pinching him. There was no point in trying to deny the fact. “But when we make love, I want it to be something we do because we’re both eager to get there before we actually do get there.”

  So he was a frickin’ poet now? A bad one? “I don’t want it to be in the heat of the moment,” he clarified. And then shook his head. His brain was definitely all in his pants at the moment. “I want it to be a decision we’ve reached before we get to the heat of the moment.” At least the third time was still the charm. In some world.

  “You want to give me time to make sure I know what I’m doing,” Jasmine said, no longer touching him, but smiling as she faced the black television screen.

  With a sideways shrug, he nodded. Probably. He couldn’t be completely sure. He’d had the thought, knew that’s why he’d stopped. On the surface.

  It was the deeper crap. Stuff lurking there, bugging him, too. Not only was this friendship with Jasmine Taylor new territory for him—what had just happened, the kissing, that all had been pretty much different, too.

  He couldn’t remember a time, ever, in his entire life, when he’d struggled to stay on the surface. The surface was the only life he was capable of living. Right up top there with facts, body parts and explosive orgasms.

  She probably only had orgasms when she was emotionally involved. Monogamously, emotionally involved. Sex, for her, was likely the seal on a deal. The one intimacy no one else got...

  He probably needed to get home and work out.

  But didn’t want to get up.

  Or leave her. He leaned over and kissed her again. Deeply.

  And his phone rang.

  The Santa Barbara police had just picked up Heidi, less than a mile from Josh’s home. Another squad stopped by Josh’s house to check on him and found him asleep in his bed.

  He hadn’t been expecting Heidi.

  But she’d clearly been heading for him.

  * * *

  Jasmine went in to check on Bella while Greg took his phone call. It was close to midnight. Jasmine was generally in bed asleep by then and wouldn’t be checking on her niece, but she went anyway. She needed to reassure herself that the toddler was right there, sleeping peacefully. Content. Secure.

  A peek in her door was all it took. A glimpse of those small cheeks and the covers moving up and down in the regular rhythm she’d grown used to seeing.

  She stopped to refresh herself, got a look at her face in the mirror and pulled out her makeup drawer, before sliding it closed without reaching inside.

  He was probably getting ready to head out. Might even be waiting for her by the front door. She didn’t blame him. It was late.

  She was off the next day but had no idea if prosecutors-turned-detectives worked Saturdays.

  And didn’t want him to leave.

  Her heart skipped ahead a beat. Oh my God! Before that phone call, she’d made out with Greg Johnson. And had been so turned on she couldn’t think about it without a resurge of that heat.

  Far better than that...they’d made a formal declaration of personal friendship.

  It sounded so high school.

  And felt so adult. So real life. Her life.

  Pausing when the front door came into view and he wasn’t there, she also paused in her chain of thoughts. They’d said “friendship.”

  The kind that came with benefits, obviously. That much was pretty clear now. But...

  He was sitting right where she’d left him. Her gaze went of its own accord to the fly of his jeans. Like that was somehow the reason he hadn’t moved. Which was ridiculous. Guys might have a hard time moving when they were kicked in certain places, but a guy could walk with a hard-on.

  “She still asleep?” he asked, watching as she curled up not too far away from him, tucking her feet up beside her.

  “Yep. Amazing how so much can happen and little ones sleep blissfully through it,” she said. Thinking of the violence—not what came after—at the moment. How many years had her mom suffered while she and Josh slept, unaware of the man their father really was? How many years before they’d caught on?

  And become his victims, too.

  But no more. Her father couldn’t hurt her anymore with his blows and taunts and lashing out. And he wasn’t going to infiltrate her home in any other way, either.

  Bella had slept through the violence earlier that night. There couldn’t be any more coming after. No chance that precious little girl would grow up with that fear in her home.

  “Since you came with warnings, I guess I should, too,” she told Greg before she could second-guess herself.

  He grinned. “Shoot,” he said, his lids lowered in a way that called out to her. She liked him this way—all relaxed and laid-back.

  But had to say what she had to say.

  “I’m not looking for forever,” she said, making her intent as clear as possible. “Not now. Not ever.”

  “Ever’s a long time off,” he said, still with a hint of a smile—not so much on his lips, but in his eyes.

  She turned, frowning, and took his hand. “I mean it, Greg. I am not going to get married. Or even live with a partner ever again.”

  She’d had a hard past and scars that were not going to go away.

  “Because of the chance that you’d end up with an unhealthy partner.”

  She’d told him her dark secrets. Now he had to understand that she’d made some healthy choices and they weren’t going to change.

  “Partially, yes.”

  “You think that somewhere inside me lurks a temper that could turn violent.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “But that’s just it... I never think it. I mean, I know you aren’t a violent man. But I also know that I am predisposed to not be able to discern if you were. But it’s not even just that...”

  She was being pushed from the inside out, as though her life depended on speaking up.

  “We’re in the beginning stages right now,” she said. She was falling back on things she’d learned in counseling; they’d helped her to finally understand a lot of what motivated actions she’d never before been able to recognize, much less understand. “Everything’s new and feels so great. There’s an excitement unlike any other kind in finding someone who’s a mate for our soul.”

  She heard the words and wished she’d dialed back a bit. Expected him to balk at the emotional, drama-ridden bit. His gaze was focused, seemingly intent. As though she not only had his full visual attention, but his auditory concentration, as well.

  “However long that lasts—could be weeks or months, even years depending on how much time you spend together—things are good. Kind of like the honeymoon phase of a new marriage. But there are always parts of people that you don’t know until you live through unexpected circumstances with them. Like a tire blowing out on a deserted road. Or the death of someone close. And then there are the life choices—a career change. A sudden need for adventure or the desire to wander to new places. Midlife crises. Or goals left unmet. Maybe even an unexpected need to procreate. Add to that any financial challenges, decorating difference and squeezing the toothpaste from the middle or not...”

  Turning his hand over, she slowly laced their fingers together. One by one.

  “Or a brother being prosecuted,” he said.

  And she knew what he was telling her. Something she’d already pretty much figured out for herself. Just because Heidi had shown tonight that she wasn’t healed didn’t mean that Josh wasn’t also an abuser. There was nothing on earth that proclaimed that there couldn’t be two abusers in a home. Or that one took precedence over another.

  This wasn’t two spouses duking it out in divorce court. As far as the court suspected, or at least had to entertain, Heidi and Josh were equally abusive.

  If that was the case, they’d both have to pay.

  “I know his case isn’t just going to go away, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said now. Greg nodded.

  “I also know that entering into another life-partner relationship is not healthy for me.” She brought them right back to where she’d started. “I’m always going to be looking, Greg. Fearing the unknown. And by doing so, creating my own reality. Bringing on the bad. They say that what you put your mind to, you get. Or something like that. And I can’t be in a live-in monogamous relationship without having those thoughts.”

  She knew how people could do things they’d never expect themselves to do or in a million years want to do. Desperate circumstances created desperate actions.

  Like pushing your brother so hard he had to get stitches.

  “So you could be in a live-in relationship if it wasn’t monogamous?”

  He wasn’t smiling. Was he asking for...

  “No,” she said. “I can’t be in a sexual relationship that isn’t monogamous, either.” Saying it out loud like that sounded so...uptight. She came with strict rules of all kinds, apparently.

  “So, if we were to...say...be friends who had a sexual relationship, I’d be the only one you were sharing that kind of friendship with?” He nodded as he spoke, like he could already see that happening.

  Even after she’d let him know, quite clearly, that their friendship would never be more than that.

  “Yes.” The word came out with a sound of intent. And maybe a bit of cheer.

  She hadn’t been describing their future, she’d been defining what it couldn’t be, but...

  “Good, then,” he said, leaning over to kiss her again. “Because I’m all for a monogamous friendship with you.”

  He was pushing her back down to the couch. Slowly. Gently. Giving her time to object. “And you understand that it goes no further than that,” she said, not objecting so much as stalling.

  “I do.” He was looking her right in the eye, all humor gone for the moment, as he said those two words.

  She kissed him then, pulling him down to her as much as being laid down. And then stopped once more. “And this is a given, but should be mentioned—I come as a package deal with Bella right now. And for however long it takes.”

  “Oh, lady, I’ve got that one,” he said, lying fully on top of her. “I believe I’ve just signed on for a long-term plan without having kids of my own, which I happen to like, by the way. I’m good with kids. They seem to like me, too, what little I’ve had to do with them. I just don’t have a lot of experience so wouldn’t want to say...raise one on my own, as Josh has been doing. But I’m open to learning. So...yeah, I’m fully prepared for whatever comes with Bella...”

  His mouth was on hers as his voice drifted off, and she couldn’t think after that.

  Not about violence, or court, or never having kids of her own. She couldn’t think about not having...anything...because in his arms, she felt like she had everything she’d ever need.

  Chapter 17

  She didn’t sleep with him that night. She came pretty darn close. About as close as you could come without completing the act. He was the one who’d stopped them. But she was glad he had. Even in the moment.

  Being with him felt...necessary. Rushing things just didn’t. They had time. She needed time.

  And yet, as the weekend transpired, she was burning with the need to have that final connection there between them. Burning on the back burner, as she gladly welcomed her brother and his caseworker, Marianne, who’d agreed to a longer weekend visitation with Bella. The little girl knew nothing about her mother’s visit the night before, the violence or her subsequent arrest, but Josh still needed to see her. To be close.

  They watched a couple of kiddie movies. Made chocolate chip cookies. And had hot dogs for dinner. Marianne sat in a corner of the dining room a good part of the afternoon, working on a laptop and going out on the deck to make calls.

  Josh was hoping that when William Brubaker got to the office Monday morning and heard about his victim’s arrest, he’d drop the charges.

  She hoped, too, but didn’t count on it. She did think, though, that Josh had a better chance of winning the case, that his attorney had a better shot at showing the court that Heidi was manipulating them, lying, than he’d had before.

  She didn’t tell Josh about Greg. And wasn’t sure why. Maybe because of Wynne’s reaction. What if Josh, like her friend, warned her off? Reminded her of her relationship challenges? Told her he didn’t have a good feeling about him?

  Maybe she didn’t tell him just because she wanted to savor her new friendship privately for a bit. Or maybe she felt a bit off, finding this new happiness while her brother’s life was falling apart. Almost at his expense.

  Because his life was falling apart. But if it hadn’t been for Heidi filing charges, she’d never have met Greg. Maybe the thing to do was just as Greg had suggested the other night when he’d stopped their lovemaking. They should wait until after the case was done.

  Anything else just further complicated an already complicated situation.

  She couldn’t have Josh worrying that she was losing focus. Or that Greg was.

  For that reason, she decided that she shouldn’t have Greg around Bella much, either. At three, the little girl had a tendency to blurt out whatever was on her mind with no idea of nuances or potential consequences. She didn’t want Bella telling Josh that she’d had dinner with Greg. Or watched TV with him. Or that he’d been kissing Auntie JJ.

  And she most definitely was not going to put herself in a position that would require her to tell Bella not to tell her father. Not about Greg. Or anything else personal.

  So she contented herself with phone calls. A lengthier one on Sunday night even than Saturday.

  “It’s kind of good, you know,” she told him while lying in her bed in the dark. “Having this time. I know you’re there. That we’re here. And yet I’m going about my normal life, too.”

  “And is normal life giving you qualms about us...being here?”

  “None.” Which surprised her. A lot. “It’s kind of a sweet agony. Thinking about you. Wanting. Knowing I’m going to have you and yet...not having.”