CHAPTER FOUR

Jace flung himself into bed. It was December twenty-sixth and his first day back to work. After his shift, he spent four hours at the gym training. His muscles were tired and achy, and his brain was a complete fog.

But even as exhausted as he was, that didn’t keep him from grabbing his phone and shooting off a quick text to Peyton. How was your uncle’s Boxing Day party?

She didn’t reply right away, but he wasn’t worried.

It was only eleven o’clock, maybe she was still at the party.

But before his screen went black, those three little dots started to bounce below his message.

It was really great. She messaged back.

Yeah? Did you go with the chowder or the chili?

I can’t believe you remembered that. Will you judge me if I say I had a bowl of both?

He grinned. I’d have probably had four bowls of each, so no. No judgment here. Did you have a nice Christmas with your parents?

He wanted to call her, but worried that might be a little too forward. Yes, they’d spent the night together and had sex more than once and in many positions, but would calling be trying too hard? He hated all this new dating protocol bullshit. He hated dating in general.

Fuck it.

He hit dial .

“You’re one of those people, eh?” she answered.

“One of what people?”

“A person who actually calls on the phone and doesn’t just text.”

He chuckled, though a frisson of unease wormed through him that he’d overstepped. “Texting is so impersonal.”

“I agree.” There was a smile in her voice, and he let out a sigh of relief. “Christmas was so lovely. They were very curious about you.”

“You told your parents about me?”

Even though he couldn’t see her, he knew she was probably shrugging. “I’m very close with my parents. I just said that we hung out and met at the bachelor-bachelorette party and wedding. And that we’re having dinner tomorrow. That was it. Though, my mom wanted to see a picture of you, so I showed her one from your Instagram.”

He rolled onto his back, put his phone on speaker mode and tucked his hands behind his head, letting his phone rest on his bare chest. “Yeah, which picture did you show her?”

“Had to scroll for a bit to find one with your shirt on. You were in front of a waterfall.”

He snorted. “That’s from last fall. My ex took that. We were at Little Qualicum Falls.”

“Figured it was somewhere on the island. Did you have a nice Christmas with your family?”

“Sure did. Ate my weight in turkey and trimmings.”

“Only way to do it. And how was your first shift back? ”

“Thankfully, uneventful. Nothing but some routine calls, which is surprising, because this time of year can bring out the worst in people.”

“It sure can.” Peyton was a social worker with the ministry, just like Rayma, and like Jace, he was sure she’d seen her fair share of disturbing shit. “Then you trained for a million hours after?”

“Not quite a million, but it sure felt like it.” His traps were tight, and he’d definitely be feeling them in the morning. A quick hop in the infrared sauna at the gym wasn’t enough. He needed to book a deep-tissue massage and get the knots properly untied. “But I’m going to hit the gym in the morning instead of after work so I can come have dinner with you.”

“Oh, I don’t mind if we eat late. Don’t kill yourself on my account. I was thinking about doing a yoga class after work, anyway.”

“You’re sure?” As much as he loved talking to her, his eyes were struggling to stay open and his brain fog grew thicker.

“Totally. What time would you be done your workout?”

“I’m off work at six, would be at the gym by six-thirty, and I can be out by eight-thirty, home and showered by nine.”

“That’s perfect. Let’s plan for you to come over here for nine.”

“That’s not too late?”

She made a noise of impatience. “I understand what you’re working toward, Jace, and I know that training comes first. So if nine o’clock is when I can see you, then that’s okay. I just want to see you.”

Holy shit, this woman was cool.

“Okay, then. Nine o’clock it is.”

“You sound exhausted. So hang up and get some sleep. You need to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to fight crime in the morning.”

He snorted. “Okay, then.”

“Goodnight, Jace.”

“Goodnight, Peyton. ”

They ended the call, and he plugged in his phone on the nightstand, double-checking that the alarm would go off at four-thirty, then he rolled over and was asleep in seconds, dreaming of a red-haired woman with gray eyes, freckles and who was definitely a Gemini.

Another fairly uneventful day at work, Jace pushed himself hard at the gym for those two hours. Not so hard that he’d pass out and be shit company for Peyton, but hard enough to earn any carbs she might cook for dinner. Not that he really needed to worry about that, but he made sure his legs were Jell-O by the time he climbed into his truck and headed home to shower.

After his shower, still with wet hair, he put on a dark gray Henley and some dark jeans, his boots and a winter jacket, then headed out the door.

He was just stepping off the elevator when a guy in a hoodie darted past him and down through the doors to the stairwell that took you to the parking garage.

Was it the same guy from Christmas Eve? Something about the dude and the whole situation just itched at the back of Jace’s neck like a fresh mosquito bite.

But his instincts had never let him down before, so rather than heading out the front door to Peyton’s condo building across the street, he followed the man in the hoodie down into the stairwell.

It was decently lit, but eerily barren, with nothing but concrete walls, concrete steps, and metal railings.

He hesitated long enough in the lobby that the guy in the hoodie had already exited into the parking garage. Jace entered the garage and had to dive out of the way when the squealing of tires echoed through the low-ceilinged place, and a black sedan with overly tinted windows came screaming toward him .

The main garage door was already open, and the car disappeared, red taillights and all, into the dark city night.

What the fuck was that?

Unhurt but a little shaken, Jace jumped to his feet and took off through the garage to the big main door, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of the license plate. But the car was already long gone.

He glanced up at the security camera in the corner and shot off a text to his building manager about getting the footage.

His knee smarted from how he dove out of the way onto the unforgiving concrete, but at least he was still in one piece.

Still shaken, he climbed the stairs back up to the lobby, then limped a little to the front door and across the street to Peyton’s. She buzzed him up.

By the time he reached her door, he wasn’t limping anymore.

He refused to let whatever just happened in the garage ruin his evening, so he tossed on a big smile, shoved the situation to the back of his mind, and knocked on the door.

She greeted him with an enormous sexy smile of her own and the scent of chicken parmesan and garlic bread. His belly grumbled.

But either he’d done a shit-job of hiding his unease, or she was crazy-intuitive, because just as soon as her beautiful smile came, it vanished and worry flashed behind her gray eyes. “What happened?”

He pinched his brows together and stepped into her warm apartment. Alternative rock played quietly from some portable speaker. “It’s nothing.”

“Jace Shepherd, don’t lie to me.” She plunked her hands on her hips. That’s when he noticed she was wearing a cute apron covered in strawberries on a blue background.

Huffing out in exasperation, he accepted the glass of wine she offered him. “Remember that guy from the elevator on Christmas Eve?”

She nodded and sipped her red wine. “Yeah. ”

“I think I saw him again in the lobby just now. And when he saw me, he ran. Ducked quickly down into the stairwell and the parking garage. When I followed him, I nearly got run over by some speed demon in a black Elantra.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

“Dove hard out of the way, but I’ll be fine. I’m just pissed I didn’t get the license plate.”

“Doesn’t your garage have security cameras?”

“It does. And I’ve already texted my building manager. But given the time of year, I may not hear from him for a few days.”

She frowned. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“How’d you know something was up?”

She shrugged and smiled sweetly, ducking into the kitchen. “I have a sixth sense about this stuff.”

That pulled a smile to his face. “I bet you do. Is it a Gemini-thing?”

“No, it’s a woman-thing.” She pulled the garlic bread out of the oven. “I hope you brought your appetite.”

“Oh, babe, if you don’t want leftovers, I’ve got you covered.”

She snorted, and her gaze softened. “I am glad you’re okay.”

Setting his wineglass down on the counter, he stepped toward her, setting his hands on her hips. They were so close now; she was forced to tilt her gaze up to see him. “I like that you’re worried about me.”

“Yeah?” Her bottom lip got caught under her top teeth.

“Mhmm.” Dropping his head, his lips brushed hers. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss and pushed her back against the kitchen counter.

They made out until the timer on the oven beeped, forcing her to breathlessly pull away and retrieve the chicken. “To be continued,” she said, her cheeks flushed, and not just from the open oven.

“Absolutely. ”

They chatted about everything and anything over dinner. More about his family. More about hers. About their childhoods and what activities they were interested in as kids.

Even though he didn’t grow up on the other side of the tracks or anything, his family was a lot more blue-collar than Peyton’s. Her dad was a developer and her mother was a lawyer. She grew up sailing and traveling the world with her parents. She played tennis, belonged to a country club, and got a car for her sixteenth birthday.

Jace’s parents were honest, hardworking people, but they didn’t have the kind of money that Peyton’s parents did. Originally from Ottawa, Jace and his family moved to Victoria when he was fifteen. His mother was a high school English teacher and his dad was in refrigeration. His sister Gemma was five years older than him and didn’t move to Victoria until grad school. She met her husband Theobold at UVic in the MBA program. They were both now high up in their respective fields as executives, with two kids: Elijah who was nine, and Marion who was twelve.

Compared to his sister, sometimes Jace felt like a slacker.

But Gemma was also very candid about her struggles with depression and anxiety that came with having to “do it all and be it all.” She was supposed to be a mother like she didn’t have a career, and in her career act like she didn’t have children. Theo had it easy in comparison to Gemma. So when he could, Jace tried to help out with his niece and nephew. At least a couple times a month, Gemma called him to either grab Elijah from soccer or take Marion to ballet.

Peyton told him all about how her mother ended up needing a hysterectomy only a few months after Peyton was born, which was why she was an only child. Her parents thought about adopting, but ultimately decided that Peyton was enough. She was honest with him and how lonely she got as a child, bringing up her imaginary friends again, and how even though she knew her mother couldn’t have more children, she always asked Santa for a baby brother or sister .

“This has really helped get my mind off that guy in the garage,” Jace said, reaching across the table for her hand. “Thank you.”

She smiled at him, then at their intertwined hands. “I’m glad.”

“I know we just met, but I really like you.”

Like two silver disco balls, her eyes glittered. “I really like you, too.”

They sat like that, just smiling in the quiet for half a minute before he leaned up and over the table for a kiss. She tasted like parmesan and wine. A combination he wasn’t at all complaining about.

Again, the timer on the oven broke their kiss.

Smiling, and pecking him one more time, she stood up from her seat. “I may have also made a berry crumble from frozen berries in my freezer.”

His mouth watered.

“à la mode?”

“Is the Pope Catholic?”

“I think so.”

She winked at him and opened up her freezer, bringing out a tub of Tahitian vanilla ice cream.

He stood up and cleared their dinner dishes, putting them in the dishwasher while she dished up their dessert. He loved this domestic simplicity. He’d never been one who liked to date around and play the field. Just like she said, he was a monogamist. He liked to be in a relationship. He liked having that special person who he could share his day and his life with. Not an endless string of sort-of-special people who he barely got to know.

He topped up their wine and followed her back out to her small two-seater table, where she set down his bowl with crumble and ice cream. The steam rising off the crumble brought with it the scent of berries and sugar. He knew it was going to be good.

Barely waiting long enough for the crumble to cool down and not burn his tongue, he dove in. The ice cream did its job and was a balm for the burn.

“Damn, that’s good,” he said .

She smiled and sipped her wine. “Did you even taste it?”

“It’s still a little hot, but I’m impatient when it comes to food.”

Reaching behind her to a small side table, she grabbed an over-sized deck of cards. “Still want me to do a tarot reading for you?”

He shrugged. “Sure. Maybe it’ll explain what’s going on with the guy in the hoodie.”

She brought the deck out of the box and handed it to him. “Shuffle it well.”

He was no black jack dealer on the Vegas strip, but he knew how to shuffle cards. Nodding once it was done, he took another bite of his crumble, which had cooled off a bit. “Okay. Now what?”

She held out her hand, and he handed back the deck. “We’re going to do ten cards. I’m going to lay six out in the Celtic Cross here.” She did a cross on the table between them with her finger. “Then four down the side here. These represent advice, external influences, hopes and/or fears, and outcome. I’ll explain more as we go along.” She laid out six cards in a cross like formation, placing the second one perpendicular over the first card in the center, then laying the rest out around it.

Last, she did the four down the side. They were all face down.

He took another bite of his crumble, gauging her warily.

Her expression gave nothing away. Now he wasn’t so sure he wanted this reading. He was never big into the paranormal or spiritual stuff. Not that he begrudged those who were. But he was more of a realist. However, after all their talk about Libras and Geminis the other night and how much he really was like his ruling astrological sign—even it’s ruling planet: Venus, and the seventh house—he’d been thinking a lot more about all this stuff.

Over the course of his career, Mercury being in retrograde, or the full moon, always came up from various people to help explain strange behaviors of people and suspects. Or when there was a string of weird happenings in the city. He usually just chalked it up to a new kind of opioid hitting the streets. But maybe the planets had more impact than he gave them credit .

“Just out of curiosity,” he started, “is Mercury in retrograde?”

Her smile was playful and knowing. “It is, actually. Started on the thirteenth and will be in retrograde until January first.”

He huffed out a sigh. “What does that actually mean?”

She smiled again. “It happens four times a year. And it’s when Mercury appears to be moving backward across the sky. It’s not really moving backward, it just looks that way based on Earth’s position in relation to the sun. So it’s called apparent retrograde.” Jace nodded. “Traditionally, people associate this time of the year with confusion, delay and frustration.

He frowned. “I’m none of those things.”

She shrugged. “Maybe you’re immune.”

He snorted. “Highly doubt it. I mean, earlier this month work was nuts, so maybe with retrograde coming to an end, things are getting better?”

She nodded. “Could be.”

Reaching for a small book, she took another bite of her crumble. “All right. Let’s start with the one in the center here. This is the present. This one on top of it is what is challenging you. An immediate opposing force.”

“Okay. So, what are the cards?” He took a sip of his wine.

She flipped them both over, then huffed an amused laugh. “Believe it or not, but your present card is Justice. You are all about fairness and equality. Balance. Your ruling attribute is Libra.”

“But that’s me.”

“I know. Crazy, right?”

“But what does that mean?”

“Just that you are laying down the law and doing what is right.”

“Okay …” That was his job, but wasn’t there supposed to be more to it? “What about the challenge?”

Her brows hiked up her forehead. “The seven of swords and its in reverse.”

“Being reverse means something different? ”

“Mhmm. It means the opposite.” She flipped through her book for a moment. “The seven of swords means deception and cunning. That you’re trying to get away with something you know you shouldn’t be doing.”

“No, I’m not!”

“But in reverse, it means something a little different. Like revisiting a situation to make things right. Doing the right thing.”

“But I haven’t done anything wrong,” he exclaimed.

“Let me keep reading. Just hang on. When it’s not in reverse, it says that what you need to do may also require stealth moves and flying under the radar. So perhaps, in your case, since you are Mr. Justice, this involves you returning to a past case and revisiting it? Perhaps something needs a second look? Maybe a closed case was closed too soon and fresh evidence has come about?”

His mind reeled. As far as he knew, there were no cases like that. He was thorough and fair in everything he did.

He finished his crumble and glared at the cards, which were all face down. “What about this one?” he pointed to the one closest to him.

“That’s your subconscious. But we’ll discuss that later. Let’s move on to your past. Number three.” She flipped it over.

“Okay, who is this guy?”

She smiled. “This is a good card and one that definitely makes sense for you. It’s the Knight of Pentacles.” She flipped through her book again. “The Knight of Pentacles is practical, methodical, stable, grounded, respectful and financially focused. A sturdy, hard-working fellow that commits to a goal. He is reliable and efficient and very trustworthy. This card can also show taking responsibility for a project or situation. Remaining committed to a cause. A boss in training.” She tilted her head to the side. “Ring any bells?”

His mouth opened a little. “I mean … yeah. I’ve started a training program for teens. Sort of a big brother thing, but not so structured. More for teenagers who don’t have male role models, but also want to work out. A bunch of guys at the precinct have joined. We don’t get paired up. Just make sure there are always a few of us around at the designated times to help train the kids and just be there, you know? Support them, answer any questions they might have about life or whatever. Keep them from getting tangled up in the wrong crowd. If they know there’s somewhere they can go, and someone they can talk to—without judgement—then they’re less likely to do something stupid, you know?”

Her smile was beautifully bright. “That sounds amazing. But I also think the card just represents who you are as a person. And maybe the project is E.R.T.?”

He scratched at his scruff. “Yeah, maybe.”

Okay, the previous card was still pissing him off, but the first one and this one weren’t so bad.

She flipped over the fourth card.

“What about that one?” It was a dude on a horse. Well, the dude was probably a knight, given how he was dressed. Very similar to the Knight of Pentacles. But instead of a holding a star—or pentacle—this knight was holding a chalice.

Now, her smile was small, and sweet and a sexy pink bloomed in her cheeks. She glanced away causing a swath of hair to break free from behind her ear and cover her face. “That’s the Knight of Cups.”

“And what does the Knight of Cups mean?” he asked, reaching forward and tucking the wayward strand back behind her ear.

“Romance and chivalry. Leading with your heart, taking action on feelings and your imagination.”

He gaped at her.

Her smile turned coy. “He is the knight in shining armor that sweeps you off your feet in a romantic gesture.” She flipped through her book again, the color in her cheeks traveling down her neck into her chest. And it was more of a red than a pink now. He liked it. Clearing her throat, she continued. “The Knight of Cups is sensitive and empathic and perhaps a bit of a dreamer. He is a consummate gentleman and proof that chivalry is far from dead. This card can also be a reminder to allow your head to lead your decisions and follow your deepest dreams. ”

“And he’s in my what? What does this card represent?”

She glanced up at him with veiled excitement. “Your future.”