by Jen Talty
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a bit too serious?”
Clayton let out a slight chuckle and smiled. “You’re not the first one to tell me how detached I come across. I can’t help it. Between how I grew up and my training as a SEAL, I learned to keep my emotions in check. I’ve managed to stay alive in some dangerous situations because of it.” He laced his fingers through hers and tugged her into the elevator. “But make no mistake, I love my job, and I care about human life.”
“Jesus, you sound like that weirdo half-human guy from Star Trek.”
“At least I don’t look like Spock.” Clayton had the nerve to wink.
But what truly mortified her was the fact her lips tipped up into a smile. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re utterly impossible?”
“My mother used to tell me that every day.”
Sage glanced down at their intertwined hands. His thumb ran up and down her finger. His skin felt warm, and his grip made her feel safe. Everything about this man turned her upside down and inside out. He put new meaning into the word: an oxymoron.
Silence filled the small space. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart. Cobwebs filled her mind. Her thoughts clung to the strings, unable to break free. Perhaps that was for the best. Clayton was right. She was exhausted, and collapsing in her own bed for a few hours would give her the reboot she needed to figure out what the hell had happened this evening.
They headed out of the hospital and into the parking garage, hand in hand. Part of her knew she should pull away, but the other part needed his strength. Not to mention she’d almost fallen on her face twice tonight. A yawn gripped hold of her chest, and she nearly fell asleep leaning against the hood of his truck as he pulled open the door.
“Up you go.” He lifted her into his arms and set her gently in the passenger side of his massive pickup. The plush leather seats conformed to her body.
“Thanks for being here for me when my father was too busy to make an appearance.”
“I’m nothing like your father.” He cupped her face with his big, powerful hands. His gaze held her captive, and her heart thumped into the back of her throat. “I’m probably stepping out of turn here, but your father is an asshole.”
“What sucks is that it’s taken me this long to realize he doesn’t give a shit about me, only how I make him look.”
“You’re not defined by your parents.”
“Do you really believe that? I don’t mean to be insulting, but your mother was a hooker, and I’m sure people have made judgments about you because of it.”
He nodded. “Growing up, people thought my mother didn’t love me simply because she was a prostitute. How could a woman who sold her body for money love a child if she couldn’t love herself? Only, most whores go into the prostitution world kicking and screaming. They tried to survive other ways, but the money is too good, and then it just becomes nearly impossible to get out.”
“What your mother did doesn’t bother you?”
“My mother had me when she was only seventeen. She was young, scared, and alone. All she knew was selling her body for money. It might sound crazy, but she continued the lifestyle in part because she loved me. She would do anything, and I mean anything, to ensure I had food in my stomach and a clean place to live. When she tried regular jobs, we ended up on the streets or in shelters, but when she worked as a prostitute, we had enough money to more than survive.”
“You skirted my question.”
“Of course, it bothered me, but I don’t judge her for her decisions.”
“But she chose to continue to do something illegal even after she’d started the Alley Home, which put her turning tricks and the money above you.” She covered her mouth. Why Clayton made her go all loose in the lips was beyond her. She wasn’t even tipsy anymore.
Clayton reached across her and fastened her seatbelt before slamming the door shut and jogging around the back of the vehicle. He climbed behind the steering wheel.
“Just because our parents do things we can’t understand, or aren’t the touchy-feely kind of parent, doesn’t mean they don’t love us,” Clayton said as he backed out of the parking spot. His attention focused everywhere but on her.
Story of her life.
“I don’t think my parents understand love.” Perhaps that’s why she hadn’t ever been able to fall in love.
The sound of tires squealing to a stop caught her attention. She glanced over her shoulder as a black sedan came flying around the corner.
“Get down,” Clayton said calmly as he pushed her head to her lap and rammed the gearshift into drive. “Stay low and hold on to something.”
“What is—”
Pop!
She screamed, trying to lift her head, but he kept his hand over it.
He punched the gas and sped forward. The vehicle pitched left, then right, and then her body jerked forward as he raced right through the gate.
“Hey, Siri, call Maddog,” Clayton said as if nothing terrible had just happened.
“What’s up, man?” a deep voice boomed through the vehicle’s speaker system. “I’m about to take off.”
“We just got shot at leaving the hospital. I need you to call Frost and let him know. It was a dark sedan. Nevada plates that start with 8F9, but I didn’t get the rest. I seem to have lost them, but I’m going to take a weird way to get to my old stomping grounds where I left my trailer. Do you have the address?”
“Sure do,” Maddog said. “Guess our bad guys don’t have very good aim.”
“Didn’t even hit my truck. I think it was supposed to scare us.” Clayton took a sharp turn.
“It scared the hell out of me.” Her body slammed against the door. Once again, she tried to sit up, but he kept her head pushed between her legs.
“It would scare any normal person,” Maddog said. “But our friend Clayton is far from normal. I bet his heart is barely beating.”
“My pulse is elevated, just for the record.”
“Not sure that makes me feel better,” she mused.
“We gotta go. I’ll be in touch,” Clayton said. A few seconds later, the call was replaced with a song from the Rolling Stones.
Her chest hurt every time she tried to suck in a deep breath. She buried her face between her knees, staying as low as she possibly could. Fear seized her heart. Nausea grabbed hold of her stomach and churned until it soured.
“Just breathe,” Clayton said, his fingers kneading the back of her head. “I want you to stay down just a little while longer.”
She opened her mouth, but all that came out was some strange noise that sounded like a dying cow. Minutes ticked by as Clayton took one sharp turn after the other until he sped up.
“We won’t be going back to your place now.” He let go of her head.
She swallowed a small amount of bile that bubbled up from her gut. Sitting up tall, she glanced around.
Clayton weaved in and out of traffic on the highway. She leaned over, surprised to see he wasn’t speeding.
“Where are we going?” she asked with a rattle in her vocal cords. Right now, having his level voice wouldn’t be a bad thing.
“A place I know where we’ll be safe.”
“I think I might be safer on my own,” she mumbled.
“Trust me. If I thought that were true, I’d be dropping you off at the next restaurant.”
That certainly didn’t make her feel better. “I don’t understand what’s going on. This makes no sense to me. I’m a good person. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt me.” Sage clutched her chest when her cell phone buzzed. She dug into her purse and pulled it out. She stared at the screen with her mouth hanging open.
“Who is it?”
“My father,” she said softly. “Why is he calling me? An hour ago, he practically hung up on me.”
“Answer it.”
She swallowed her breath and hit the green button. “Daddy?” While she spoke with her father regularly, it was rare he cal
led her first.
“Where are you?”
Clayton shook his head.
“I’m not exactly sure,” she said, doing her best to refrain from being sarcastic.
“I bet that guy from the Brotherhood Protectors told you to say that,” her father said. “But I need to know where you are.”
“He doesn’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Put him on the phone.”
“You’re on speaker,” she said half under her breath. For a split second, she thought about telling dear old dad about being shot at again, but she decided the only thing that would accomplish was to remind her that her parents saw her as an appendage they were responsible for, but not as their daughter. Not as a flesh and blood human being that needed hugs and the occasional pat on the back.
Who was she kidding? Her parents didn’t even do that, and she figured their marriage was more out of convenience than out of love.
“I’ll cut right to the chase,” her father started.
Clayton glanced in her direction with an arched brow.
She shrugged her shoulders.
“A couple of months ago, I took over a company called Rotork. It was a family-owned business that years ago did quite well. Unfortunately, the company took a downhill turn, making it ripe for someone like me to come in and—”
“I’m sorry, sir, but could you cut to the point,” Clayton said with a sharp edge. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands.
“I’m getting there. I think the backstory is important.”
“Not when I’m trying to outrun a bad guy with a gun.”
She liked the way Clayton handled her father.
“Jonathon Rotork, the son of the founder, told me when I sold off the company for parts that he’d make sure I paid, and just the other day, when I ran into him at a coffee shop, he told me to watch my back. I think he’s your guy.”
“Send any and all information to my boss, and we’ll look into it.” Clayton reached out and squeezed her thigh. “I’ll take good care of your daughter.”
The phone went dead.
“Love you too, Dad,” she said, resting her head against the glass. “The scary part is the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“Trust me; you’re nothing like your father.” Clayton left his hand on her leg.
She should brush it off, but she decided she liked the human contact, even if it was from Mr. Calm-Cool-And-Collected.
Chapter 4
Clayton considered himself a good judge of character, but he wasn’t so sure what to think of Sage. There was no denying she was one smart filly. What she’d accomplished with her foundation was truly amazing between charity events like last night, or providing needed aid to disaster zones, without even being asked.
He adjusted himself in the folding chair and stared into the crackling fire as flames flickered in the early morning light. Sipping his coffee, which was more like grinds mixed with hot water, he stared at his camper.
His home.
Hank and Swede had burst out laughing when he pulled into Hank’s place in Eagle Rock, Montana, six months after his mother died and only three weeks after he’d retired from the military. Hank had offered him a cabin to rent until he got a place of his own, but Clayton already had a home, and it went with him wherever he went. His mother always told him never to have more possessions than you can pack up and move in less than a few hours. He’d taken that advice literally, but it was also what he’d become accustomed to. He and his mother went from one shelter to the next when he’d been a small boy. Then she met Maxwell and that had been both a blessing and a curse.
And in more ways than one.
“Clayton!” Sage’s scared voice cut through the dense Nevada air.
He jumped to his feet and flipped open the door to his fifth wheel trailer. “I’m right here.”
“Where the hell is here?” She stood between the kitchen and the bedroom in one of his button-down shirts, the hem flowing loosely over the top of her knees. Her dark hair fluffed out over her shoulders in a wild morning look.
He swallowed. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
“Excuse me?” She blinked, brushing her hair from her wide eyes. “Where exactly are we?”
“Boulder Beach Campground,” he said with a slight smirk. He shouldn’t enjoy playing with her, but it was too much fun to pass up.
“You live in Montana.”
“I live in this camper, regardless of what state I’m in.” He raked a hand across his buzzed head. Instead of giving her short answers, he should just lay it out there, but again, the look on her face was priceless.
“You’ve got to be kidding me? What are you; some kind of nomad?”
“Pretty much.” He took her by the hand and tugged her toward the kitchen. “The coffee tastes like shit, but I have fresh eggs and bacon. Let me cook you breakfast.”
“I want to check on Weslynn.”
“She’s fine. My buddy Maddog is with her, and she’s awake. They are keeping her a couple more days and then releasing her.” He squeezed her hand and smiled. “No one has tried to come near her.”
“I still want to go see her and grab some clothes. Can I take your truck?”
He placed both his hands on her biceps. “Sweetheart, you and I are stuck together for a while, so you might as well get used to it. Now, I don’t have any clothes that will fit you, but Frost is going to be stopping by some time with some clothes, so until then, feel free to rummage through my drawers for something that might come close to fitting, or stay in this.” He took a step back and let his gaze drop to her sexy pink toenails. As if she knew he found them utterly adorable, she wiggled them. “Because you look damn hot.” Did he just say that out loud?
“Do you always stare at the women you protect like their pieces of meat to be devoured?”
He laughed. “Babe, you are no slab of beef, and I wouldn’t devour you. It would be more like savoring every inch of you.” He dropped his hands to his sides. He’d never had trouble getting a woman into his bed when he wanted one, which wasn’t all that often. When he did approach a lady, he was almost always confident that they were relationship phobic.
But Sage? She was the kind of woman who would want a man, not because she needed him, but because she wanted someone to share her life with—a true partner.
And Clayton had no idea what that meant, nor did he want to find out.
Or did he?
He let his gaze slide up her tanned legs, across the white shirt covering her perky, braless breasts, to her lower lip, which she bit down on in a sexy, contemplative look.
“That was insanely inappropriate of me, but for the record, had I not been hired to protect you, last night I would have worked my best charm to see you in my shirt after a night of wild, passionate lovemaking.”
She covered her mouth and laughed.
And laughed.
She laughed so hard he wondered if she was crying too. Or maybe just gasping for air.
He stood there like an idiot waiting for her to stop. He might be a man of few words but never had a woman rendered him utterly speechless. “I honestly don’t see what’s so funny.”
She waved her finger in the air. “You don’t seem like the type of guy who would ever use the words lovemaking.”
The corners of his mouth tipped upward. She had a point. “And what do you think I would say?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe a night of wild sex?” She lifted her palms toward the ceiling. “Oh hell, I see you saying, let’s fuck over anything else.” Her nose scrunched when she used the swear word.
“I might have a bit of a rough edge to me, but I’m still a gentleman.”
She rested her hand on his chest and tapped.
His skin tingled from his head to his toes. The last time he felt like this had been when he lost his virginity.
“All right then. I’ll take some breakfast. Mind if I shower while you cook?”
“Be my guest.” He took her
hand and pressed his lips against her palm.
“Where’s my phone?”
“Shut off in the glove box of my truck. For the time being, you’re offline. The best way for me to keep you safe while the cops and my buddies work on solving why Glenn Nolan tried to kidnap you.”
She cocked her head and pursed her lips. “You said he worked for Maxwell, who you believe killed your mother, so why me? It still doesn’t make sense.”
“Nolan is a freelance thug. He works for anyone who pays him. If someone offered him enough cash, he’d kill Maxwell and not think twice. If Maxwell offered more not to be killed, he’d take the money and let Maxwell live. So, the questions we need to be answered are: who hired him and why?”
She yanked her hand free.
His skin immediately cooled. The damn woman had made her way into his bloodstream in a single night.
“I hope we find those answers by sunset because I don’t want to spend a full night out here in this thing. Besides, I have a flight to catch, and I am going to need to get ahold of some of my staff to give them directions on what to do.”
“You can use my phone later, but you can’t tell anyone where you are or why. Now scoot and get that shower.” He turned her body and patted her butt. Shit. So much for being a gentleman.
She glanced over her shoulder. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty,” she said before disappearing into the entranceway to where the bedroom and bathroom were located.
He wasn’t quite sure how to take her statement, but at least she hadn’t responded with a slap across the face. His phone buzzed in his back pocket. He glanced at the text from Hank telling him to check his email ASAP.
The sound of water rushing through the pipes filled his ears. His mind immediately went to her tight nipples that had pressed up against his white shirt. He hoped he’d gotten her bra and clothing sizes correctly. He rolled his eyes. If he got them right, she’d probably be just as insulted as if he hadn’t.
