Left to Lapse (An Adele Sharp Mystery—Book Seven) by Blake Pierce (book club suggestions txt) 📗

“No,” she insisted, propelled bysome summoned courage from a hidden place. She didn’t know why she waspressing, why she wouldn’t let it go. But in that same moment, she realized shedidn’t want to. She knew John—and when he acted like himself, his true self,there was no one she trusted more. When he acted like a shadow of himself, hewas the most obnoxious, unprofessional, ridiculous man she’d ever known. It wasinfuriating…

And yet part of her enjoyed thetwo-sided coin that was Renee’s personality. Part of her also loathed it. For abrief moment, she thought of Agent Leoni. Of Christopher. His kindness, hisself-sacrifice, his willingness to care about her regardless of what she seemedto do.

She felt a flutter of guilt andfrustration in her stomach, and she glanced off now, staring at the roadheading in the opposite direction from John’s own gaze. Both of them continuedto stare in different directions for a moment. And John muttered, “Taxi shouldbe here soon.”

“Great.”

“Yeah. Great.”

Adele waited, hesitant. She hadn’tknown what she wanted John to say, but silence wasn’t it. She’d broken open thedam, cracked the seal, voided the warranty, as it were. Now, it was John’sturn. But what had she expected? It wasn’t like Renee was a wind-up toy shecould force into her bidding at a moment’s notice. Hell, half the time, Johndidn’t seem to have rhyme or reason behind anything he did. And yet hewas an effective agent.

An effective companion… after astyle.

Thesilence continued a bit longer, and Adele found herself getting angry. She didn’teven understand why, and yet as John refused to speak, as she stared off andaway from him, her imagination churning, her own mind began to grow restless.Her lips drew in a thin line and she muttered. “Damn it, Renee. Why can’t youever just say what’s—”

“Ihate what you do,” he said, suddenly, interrupting her.

Adeleblinked and turned back now. Both of them were watching each other like twocats in the dark, searching out the boundaries of new territory.

“Hownice of you to say,” Adele murmured.

“You’rethe one who called me a bastard.”

“Idid that for emphasis.”

“Soam I. I do hate what you do. I hate…” He hesitated, scratching at his jaw, butthis time not quite looking away. “I hate how you make me feel.”

Adeleblinked, staring now. She found her breath came a little more quickly.

Johngritted his teeth, his jaw stretched, the scars along his chin standing outrigid and pale in the poorly illuminated outside terminal. He sighed, thenpassed a hand through his hair. “Christ, Adele,” he said. “You’re a strangeone—I’ll give you that. I wish I didn’t… you know… care.” He shook his head asif puzzled. “Really, I do,” he added, glancing back at her as if in emphasis. “Butyou’re just… you’re an odd bird, aren’t you? You’re… You’re…” He sighed andshrugged.

“Anodd bird,” Adele said, softly, trying not to smile. “What every girl wants tohear.”

“Imight not be able to tell you what I’m thinking… but I know how you make mefeel,” he said, nodding adamantly. “That Leoni fellow, he’s an asshole. I hatedhim. Hated him the moment I saw him. Couldn’t quite place why, to be honestwith you. Then I saw him hold your hand, and I swear, Adele…” John inhaleddeeply. “I swear I wanted to put a bullet in him then and there.”

“John!”

“Ididn’t—just to be clear. Need I remind you? I didn’t. But also, the thought ofhim driving us to the airport. Of taking us in that stupid limousine.” Johnshuddered, shaking his head. “I could’ve punched him.”

Adelehesitated, feeling a panic rising in her. Was this what she wanted to hear?Part of her thought so, another part wished he would shut up, or lie. But inthat moment, ever the investigator, her curiosity got the better of her. Shesaid, softly, “John… I don’t care what you think about Leoni. I know what you’retrying to say. But I want you to say it. Leave Leoni out of it. Leave youranger at the door, just for one moment. Can you do that? Or is it so much apart of you, you’re not even able—”

“Goddamn it. Just shut up, will you,” John growled. Then he leaned in, remindingher once again just how tall the Frenchman was. He didn’t hesitate, he didn’task, he didn’t do anything or speak any more words except place his arm aroundher lower back and press his lips to hers.

Thefaintest of moments passed where she could have pulled away, where she felt hisbreath against her cheeks, warm and soft.

Andthen, he pulled her in complete. For a moment, the two of them stood there,beneath the flickering lights of the airport terminal. John holding her close,sharing breath, their mouths drinking the other in. The warmth from him, thescent of smooth cologne and sweat. The sound of his breathing, the gentle gustof air from his nose against her cheek as he exhaled a soft sound of pleasure.

Heleaned in, holding her tighter now, practically lifting her from her feet. Thekiss itself seemed so… John. Aggressive, passionate, intense. There was a sortof kindled rage to it as well, a declaration—it seemed—a howl against any whomight intrude on that moment, intrude on the space between them. But there wasno space, not where John was concerned. His frame blocked out any glimpses of shimmeringfluorescent lights, his back to the road now, fully facing her at last.

Theyremained like that, the intensity rising and falling in swells like rollingwaves dashed against the shore. For a moment, Adele felt a flicker along herback where his fingers pressed, felt a sense of tingling along her spine.

JohnRenee… unprofessional, obnoxious. But damn, was he a good kisser.

Notthe first time, but this second kiss was more… honest… than the first.

Atlast, though, she pulled back, panting and staring up at him wide-eyed. He didn’tblink, didn’t look away, but also breathed, gasping, his chest heaving as if he’djust sprinted up a flight of stairs. A faint flicker of delight flashed acrosshis eyes, the corners of his lips turned up into a sort of tomcat grin. Hewinked at her. “Call me a bastard again,” he murmured.

Adelestared