In the Blink of an Eye. Julie Miller
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another left-hander in their pitching lineup. That’d make them a sure thing.”
Wade was off on another conversation that required no input from herself. How could the guy be so amiable while discussing divorce and throwing away his money on a bet?
She served his pie and ice cream, biting back the urge to ask if risking half his paycheck had anything to do with his wife leaving him. But Wade was just a casual acquaintance. She had no right to comment on his personal life.
Besides, she had a more important task to accomplish. She dished up another serving in a large bowl, grabbed a spoon, and stiffened her backbone for the upcoming battle. “Excuse me, Wade. I need to check on Mac.”
“S’okay,” he said with a wad of food in his mouth. “It’s seven o’clock. Better check the perimeter again.” He stood, towering over Julia and swallowing up the space in the kitchen. He held up his dish like a starving waif. “S’okay if I take this with me?”
She still wasn’t quite sure what Mitch Taylor wanted to protect Mac from, but she didn’t question the security of having this friendly giant on guard outside the house. “Go ahead.”
She followed Wade to the front door and locked it behind him, then walked to the back of the house. She’d spent the afternoon cleaning, so the path was clear, but she’d need some muscle to move the furniture into an easier layout for Mac to negotiate. Maybe she’d just sent a prime recruit outside with pie and ice cream. That small bit of good fortune carried her all the way to Mac’s locked bedroom door.
The battered oak could be turned into a beautiful piece of wood if it was stripped and refinished. She wondered what it would take to break it down. Maybe Mac’s hard head. But she’d try other means first.
She didn’t bother knocking. No sense giving him the opportunity to be rude. “Mac?” No answer. “Your dinner is cold. I brought dessert. Apple pie and ice cream. Can you smell it?”
“Go away.”
Julia breathed deeply. She knew this wouldn’t be easy. “Your sense of smell should be more acute now.” She passed the bowl along the seam of the door, shamelessly tantalizing him. “It’s still warm. Take a whiff.”
“Acute?!”
A couple of quick footsteps preceded the sound of a skeleton key twisting in the lock. She jumped back when Mac wrenched open the door. His hand shot out. Julia dodged a poke in the jaw, and barely managed to switch the pie from one hand to the other before his searching fingers clamped down on her wrist and dragged her inside.
“Smell these.”
He spun her toward the dresser. Toward the parade of glass beakers. He moved his hand to the back of her neck, pushing her forward, forcing her to inhale the mishmash of toxic vapors. Her sinuses burned. She shook her head, but his grip held fast. “Can you tell which one is flammable? Which one is safe?”
“You’re hurting me.” Her plea fell on deaf ears. His hand tapped across the dresser and picked up a beaker with a surety that made her think he’d done it several times before.
He thrust the glass beneath her nose. “Do you think this is the one that Jeff used to destroy those samples? Is this what blew up in his face? I can’t tell the difference anymore. Can you?”
“Dammit, Mac!” Forgetting any rule about treating the patient with care, Julia defended herself. She shoved the beaker away from her face and twisted within his grasp. The beaker flew into the air and he released her.
Reflex actions made her lunge for the glass to try and save it, but she stumbled over Mac’s foot. Her legs knotted with his when he tried to move away. And then they were falling. The beaker shattered on the floor the same instant Mac hit the bed and she landed on top of him.
Fortunately, he’d taunted her with water. Nothing dangerous. But manhandling her was a crime she would not forgive. Patience be damned. The man was going to eat.
Julia plopped herself on Mac’s stomach, keeping him off balance when he tried to rise to his feet. She scraped the spoon through the bowl, splashing melted ice cream onto his shirt. She aimed for his mouth and hit her target, startling him into swallowing the food. Her victory fired her up for a second try.
But blind or not, Mac proved amazingly quick. He rolled. The bowl and spoon hit him in the face, but he knocked them aside and pinned Julia beneath him. “You want to take advantage of a blind man, Jules? Is that what you want?”
In a heartbeat, the breath rushed out of her and she froze. Long and lean, Mac’s body stretched beyond the length of hers. Their legs tangled together, his hips fitting snugly over hers. His hands had found her shoulders, and the tip of one long thumb branded her across the top curve of her breast. His face hovered mere inches above hers, close enough to feel each fevered breath brush across her cheek.
The heavy sensation that rushed to where his thigh sank between hers made her forget all about defending herself. How many times had she kissed her pillow and dreamed it was Mac Taylor?
If she wrapped her arms around his waist or lifted her lips, she could turn their position into an embrace.
If.
An instinctive rush of self-consciousness stole into her mind, killing the thought before it could take wing. Lying on top of her, could he gauge the dimensions of her figure? Could he remember the freckles that made her plain? The shape that made her easy to overlook?
I’m not just your last chance. I’m your only chance. A nightmare from long ago whispered into her subconscious mind.
Sturdy. I like that in a woman. Not exactly Dr. Casanova’s slickest line. But she’d fallen for it, anyway.
Julia squeezed her eyes shut against the ugly voices inside her head and tried to pull herself back to the present.
“Jules?” His terse, ruined voice demanded a response.
To be this close and know he thought of nothing but besting her, nothing but rebelling, nothing but proving a point, kept her from giving in to her hopeless fantasies.
She sought out reason, the way the Mac she’d had a crush on all these years would.
“In what way exactly do I have the advantage?”
His sightless eyes zeroed in on her crisp articulation. She felt an answering stiffness work its way into his arms and legs.
And then she was free.
Of course she was free. He’d come to his senses, after all.
Eventually, every man did.
He sat on the edge of the bed and Julia crawled to a seat beside him. She hid her disappointment, sternly reminding herself that she was his nurse, not an old flame. Hell. She barely qualified as an old friend.
She straightened her sweater and smoothed a wisp of hair above her ear. “If you want to identify the chemicals, I’ll help do the research. But my first priority is your health. You have to take care of yourself before you can take care of anything else.”
He buried his face in his hands and rocked from side to side as if suddenly caught up in a wave of dizziness. “I’m useless. Out of control and useless. There’s a crime to solve, and I can’t do it.”
Julia tried to follow his mood swings. She rose to her feet beside him and planted her fists on her hips. He was way too stubborn. Way too down on himself. She shook her head, battling through her own frustrations so she could deal with his.
“How well did you know Jeff Ringlein?”
“You, too, huh?” Julia folded her arms and glared back at his accusatory smirk. She didn’t know what crime consumed him so. She was just trying to help him work his way through whatever was putting his recovering eyesight, and maybe even his life, in jeopardy. His broad shoulders lifted in a weary shrug before he finally answered her. “I took him under my wing when he joined the department. He was a nice enough kid. I tried to be a mentor