And Then She Was Gone(25)

Kelly pulled her hand back.

Jack stiffened. He regretted saying anything.

Kelly sat for a long minute, staring out the window.

Jack tried to break the tension. He knew this was a lot more than most people could handle. “I can just picture your father’s face when you tell him that one.”

Kelly snapped out of her daze, reached over, and took Jack’s hand. “Like I said, I’m not my father.”

Jack searched her face. He expected to see scorn, but there was none. His fingers drummed the dashboard. “You don’t think less of me?”

“Do you think less of me because of the way my father acts?”

“No.”

She squeezed his hand.

“Seriously, I hope this wasn’t too much of a buzzkill,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Kelly slid over until her body pressed against his. She leaned on his chest. “No. It hurts to think that you had it so bad.”

“There’re lots of people who’ve had it worse.” He put his arm around her.

Kelly laid her head on his shoulder. “So you rescued a little old lady?”

Jack’s breathing clicked up a notch. He nodded.

“You chased after the guy and almost got stabbed?”

He raised his hand as if he were taking an oath. “All true.”

Kelly gazed up at him.

Jack’s chest swelled as his emotions surged. He thought for a moment of his father’s speech, his mother’s warning, and Aunt Haddie’s words, but then he looked into Kelly’s blue eyes. He felt like Superman, but Kelly was the one with heat vision—her smoldering stare was hitting him like Kryptonite. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

He felt for the small scratch on his side just above his waistband, the one he’d hidden from Chandler and his parents. “Actually…” He grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt. “I think the knife may have nicked me.” He lifted up his shirt so she could see his side.

“Oh, Jack.” Her eyes rounded in concern as she searched for signs of injury. She reached out and gently touched above the scrape.

His skin tingled at her touch. It felt wonderful.

“Does that hurt?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. But maybe you should feel… all around. You know, just in case.”

Her eyes sparkled as she chuckled. Slowly, she ran her fingers along his chest muscles. Every trail her fingers traced sent electricity rippling along his skin.

His chest rose and fell faster as her eyes locked with his. Then she leaned in and kissed him.

A ripple traveled from the crown of Jack’s head to his feet. He felt a glow surge through his veins; he felt wanted.

He liked how that felt.

Her kisses were long and slow. Jack put his hand up into her hair. The wispy blond strands felt like silk. As they kissed, he tasted her lip gloss—cherry. Jack had a new favorite flavor.

The windows fogged. After a few minutes, Jack felt something vibrate. He opened one eye.

Kelly opened hers, pulled back, and smiled shyly. “It’s my phone.” She pulled it out of her pocket, pressed the silence call button, and tossed it on the floor.

Jack pulled her close, and they went back to kissing. “You taste like cherry mixed with spring,” he said.

“You smell like musk.”

A minute later, Kelly’s phone vibrated again.

“Seriously!” She grabbed her phone off the floor, scrolled through her texts, and then cringed. “My father’s freaking out.”

Jack looked at the clock. “Why?”

Kelly swallowed. “He saw us on the news.”

“So?”

She turned to Jack with an I-don’t-want-to-but-I-have-to-go look.

Jack hoped his forced smile didn’t betray his internal frustration. “I’ll take you home.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Jack started the engine and backed out of the parking lot.

Kelly texted her father back as Jack drove her home. When they pulled into the driveway, it looked as though every light inside and out of the Dawson home had been turned on. Jack parked the Impala, but before he’d even shut the engine off, the front door flew open. Mr. Dawson stormed down the steps, followed closely by his wife.

Mr. Dawson pointed toward the house. “Get inside, Kelly. Now.” His order was just below a shout.

Begrudgingly, Jack got out of the car. He didn’t know whether he was crazy or brave for facing her father. “Mr. Dawson—” Jack started to say, but Mr. Dawson stormed around the car and cut him off.

“How dare you?” Mr. Dawson jabbed his plump finger in Jack’s face.

Jack looked down at the red-faced man and fought to control his own temper. He understood the man was upset; he realized that he was a father and clearly something had set him off with regard to his daughter.