Vulnerable (Morgans of Nashville 4)

“You are a dog on a bone.”

His eyes darkened. “When you’re in my sights, I don’t stop until I get what I want.”

Electricity surged inside her. “Good to know.”

He grabbed a handful of nuts. “As much as I’d like to stay and chat, I can’t.”

A surprise jolt of disappointment zapped her gut, but she covered with a wide smile. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

“You don’t know her.” He winked and popped a nut in his mouth. “See you in the salt mines on Monday.”

She held up her glass filled with melting ice. “You bet.”

He turned and left the bar, leaving her annoyed and deflated, something that never happened when she just stepped off the stage. “He just played me, ass.”

KC refilled her glass. “So what’s got you all sour faced?”

“Jake Bishop. That guy can really piss me off.”

KC laughed. “Really, you hide it so well.”

“Hush up.”

“He’s a hell of a guy, Georgia.”

“He’s a hound dog. Always looking for the next woman to bed. I bet a mob of angry husbands and boyfriends chased him out of Boston.”

KC’s expression sobered. “You really don’t know why he left Boston?”

“No. Should I?”

He pulled the bar rag from his shoulder. “He was engaged to be married. Fiancée’s car was hit by a drunk driver who left the scene. She was killed. Jake was Boston PD then, but that didn’t stop him from finding the guy and beating the hell out of him. He would have killed the guy if his brother hadn’t pull him off.”

“Damn.”

“That’s only half of it. The hit and run driver was a mob boss’s son, but the boss told Jake the boy deserved the beating. But touch him again and he wouldn’t spare Jake’s life or the lives of his family. Jake knew if he stayed in Boston he’d see this prick again and would kill him, so he did what was best for all and left town.”

“Wow.” It was no secret that Jake had a temper and kept it on a short leash.

“Cut the guy some slack. It’s clear he’s got the hots for you.”

She held up her glass for a refill. “It will pass.”

“Oh, it sure as shit won’t. Guy could not take his eyes off you while you were singing. Completely mesmerized.”

* * *

Amber’s stitches itched but her headache had passed and she was feeling much better. Especially now that she was staying at the Reeds’ house. She could get used to a soft bed, fancy food, and a view of the lake behind the house, which she enjoyed while sipping morning coffee. This was the kind of life she deserved. This was the kind of life she wanted.

Mrs. Reed had gone to bed at nine but Amber couldn’t sleep. As the minutes ticked by, she became more and more restless, realizing her return to Nashville was not going as planned.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Tuesday, October 10, 11:00 A.M.

The medical examiner released the remains of Bethany Reed and Mike Marlowe on a rainy Sunday afternoon. Jake visited Marlowe again and convinced him to hold the services together. A combined service might be too much for the killer to resist. By Monday, Mrs. Reed finalized plans for the funeral, which would honor both children. Mr. Marlowe’s only input had been the venue, which he insisted be held in the stadium-sized Baptist church near St. Vincent.

During the time leading up to the funeral, Georgia filled her days to overflowing. She visited Amber at the Reed house and found her doing well. She continued to review the files, searching for something that might break the case. As tempted as she was to call the lab every day for DNA results, she resisted. She even made time for lunch with her sisters-in-law for the final, somewhat torturous, fittings of their bridesmaids’ dresses.

Now as Georgia walked into the police department in high heels and a black dress, she thought about Jake and wondered about his weekend date. Which lovely woman had he chosen to take out or warm his bed? The unexpected thought jabbed her like an elbow to the ribs.

At Rick’s request, she arrived at the homicide offices early so that she could drive to the funeral with Jake and him. When she entered Rick’s office, Jake was there standing next to a bookcase fiddling with an old baseball that dated back to Rick’s high school days.

Jake wore a dark suit, crisp white shirt, and a black tie. Broad shoulders, a straight-backed posture and the flawless suit held her gaze for a beat longer than it really should.

Seeing him now, she freely acknowledged to herself that she missed the irritating and smartass questions. Wanting him was not smart.

“Georgia,” Rick said rising. “Like the dress.”

Jake set the baseball down and turned toward her. A hint of a smile crossed his lips. “Clean up nice, Morgan.”

Annoyance mingled with pleasure. “Thanks. Feels weird wearing a dress, and I’m fairly sure these heels were designed by a sadist.”

Jake’s gaze slid up and down the ribbon of muscle in her calf. He said nothing, but his look telegraphed a need to touch.

Rick reached for his gun from his desk drawer and holstered it. “Is Amber coming to the funeral?”

Georgia shook off thoughts of Jake touching her calves with his weathered hands. “She is.”

Rick pulled his suit jacket from his desk chair and shrugged it on. “Is it really smart for her to be staying with Mrs. Reed?”

“I don’t think so, but Mrs. Reed enjoys doting on her.”

Jake tugged the front folds of his jacket in place and adjusted his tie. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

She shifted, her hand at her side fingering the soft fabric of her dress. As the elevator doors dinged open, Rick’s cell phone buzzed. He glanced down, shaking his head. “It’s Jenna. Let me take this. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Jake blocked the door open with his arm. “Sure. Take all the time you need.”

As Georgia moved past Jake, the heat of his body rushed out to touch her. The two stepped into the empty elevator and the door closed behind them.

He punched the elevator button. “You look sexy as hell. Gonna be hard to forget those heels the next time I see you in steel-toed boots.”

She tugged on her dress. “Take a picture. These heels are about to be retired.”

“Too bad.”

As the elevator doors closed, his energy magnified in the small space. She glanced at her reflection in the scuffed stainless-steel door. Her red hair skimmed the tops of her shoulders and curled up slightly. She had taken the time to wash and blow-dry her hair this morning, something she rarely did. However, despite her efforts the rain had grabbed ahold of the strands and twirled them sideways into tighter curls. Damn. She wanted to make a good impression at the funeral, but the truth was she wanted to please Jake.

“How was the date?” she asked.

“Fun. You have a good weekend?”

Chinese food. A very sad attempt at running a mile. Binge watching a comedy series. “Awesome.”

He glanced at her, his gaze searching, intense. “Singing again soon?”

“Who knows? The day job’s got most of my time this week.” She thought about him standing at the bar as she began her set. “Why’d you stop by Rudy’s the other night?”

“KC wanted to run something past me. Nothing special.”

She thought about what KC had told her about Jake’s fiancée. Of all the backstories she might have expected, that was the last. It added a dimension to the guy she didn’t expect. She admired him for starting over. Easy to give in to a bad temper, but much harder to walk away from a fight to protect those you love.

The doors opened to the lobby and a group of officers talking. Jake waited until Georgia stepped off. A few minutes later, Rick strode out of the other bank of elevators. He glanced at them both as he tucked his phone back in the holster on his belt. “We need to get moving if we want to be there early.”

Jake opened Georgia’s car door, causing her to stop, surprised. “Something

about heels, Morgan. Reminds me you’re a woman.”

Maybe she wouldn’t retire the heels. “Thanks.”

Georgia slid into the backseat, adjusting her dress, wiggling toes inside shoes that pinched. Rick and Jake both sat up front.