by Susan Stoker, Cristin Harber, Cora Seton, Lynn Raye Harris, Kaylea Cross, Katie Reus, Tessa Layne
He stalked into the darkness, feet carrying him across the yard and around the paddock.
What in Zeus’s butthole had he been thinking?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
What in the hell had just happened? One minute she’d been convinced he was going to take her to bed. The next, he’d pushed her away and yelled about the damned door being unlocked. Elaine let her head fall back to rest on the cabinet, thoughts whirling, body still buzzing from the high of his touch.
Never in her twenty-four years had she been kissed like that.
Ever.
And for the first time in her life, she wanted more. She couldn’t help it, she wanted all of Travis Kincaid. Was it possible to be half in love with someone you’d only kissed once? She’d felt a world of possibility in that kiss, a future spinning out before her filled with happiness. Stability.
Pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, she inhaled a deep stuttering breath and slowly let it out. “Think, Elaine. Think.”
But she couldn’t. Not just yet, anyway. Travis’s kiss had detonated a bomb inside her. It was going to take a few minutes to collect herself. Her throat grew itchy and hot. She would not give into tears. She was stronger than that. Had endured too much. She’d made the mistake of allowing herself to hope. Something she wouldn’t be doing again.
Sliding off the counter, her gaze landed on the open bottle of wine. The temptation to pour herself a glass to steady her nerves was powerful. But she couldn’t risk it. Only one more year and then she could live like a normal human being. Blowing out a long sigh of frustration, she turned to the few remaining dishes still soaking in the sink. Turning on the faucet, she ran more hot water and soaped the sponge. At least her hands could stay busy while her thoughts raced.
Dax was asleep on the couch and Travis had stomped out. Who knew when he’d be back? Did he expect her to curl up on the couch next to Dax and wait for him to finish his little tantrum? Anger flashed through her. Should she call Weston? Or Dottie?
She shook her head, putting the soapy dishes on the other side of the sink to rinse. No, she was figuring this out on her own. But as soon as she took her GED she’d ask Dottie to teach her how to drive. For now she was stuck. But she wouldn’t be forever.
She rinsed the remaining dishes and grabbed a towel, slowly drying and putting them away, becoming acquainted with Travis’s kitchen layout. It had been a nice meal. Weston and Travis one-upping each other in an effort to make Dax laugh. And she’d been excited about the first project Weston had given her – identifying potential supporters based on analytics. She’d had no idea that voting software could be so sophisticated.
In spite of the way Travis made her feel, she wasn’t going to walk away from this job. The money alone was a game changer for her. And she’d endured far worse conditions for far less money. She’d have to keep reminding herself this was a business opportunity and nothing more. She pushed down the hard knot of disappointment that had lodged itself in her chest. Love just wasn’t in the cards for her.
With the kitchen set to rights, there was only one thing left to do. Squaring her shoulders, she headed for the door, stopping to brush her fingers through Dax’s light hair and give him a kiss on the forehead. His round pudgy face, angelic and sweet when he slept, pulled on her heartstrings. Everything for him. He would have the opportunities she never even knew existed.
Giving Dax a last kiss, she stood and marched out of the house. The night air was heavy and still. Not even a hint of a breeze. Her trailer would be an oven tonight, even with the tiny window AC unit running full blast. She had no idea where to look for Travis. She didn’t even know how big the property was.
Stepping off the porch, she wandered across the yard, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. Her ears filled with the sounds of crickets and frogs. Whoever said the country was quiet didn’t know what they were talking about. A coyote yipped in the distance.
As she came around the barn, a glorious sight stopped her in her tracks. A three-quarter moon hung low on the horizon, pouring light over the hills in its yellow majesty. Peaceful. Serene. A stark contrast to the man who leaned on the fence on the far side of the paddock, also gazing skyward.
The urge to go to him, to soothe the tension that held his shoulders tight, zipped down her legs, pushing her feet to move. But she held steady. She approached slowly and stopped within calling distance. The draw of his shoulders told her he’d heard her soft approach. Taking a deep breath, she braced for the words she knew she had to get out. “I’m not going to let you blow hot and cold with me, Travis.” She kept her voice low, but strong. “I deserve better.”
He dipped his head, arms tightening on the rail, but didn’t turn around.
Taking another fortifying breath, she continued. “I loved kissing you. But I can see you’re not ready for…” She cast about for the right word, but how could you describe anticipation and desire all rolled up into one? “Whatever it is that’s between us. Tomorrow I will cash your check, and when you pick me up I’ll be nothing more than your campaign person.”
She hated saying those words. They ripped through her with the intensity of a Band-Aid coming off. But it was for the best. At some point, if they became truly intimate, he would expect her to share things. Talk about her past. And then it would be over for good. Better a little pain now than total heartbreak later. “Please take me and Dax home.”
He swung around, his face stark and tight in the moonlight. “I’m sorry,” he rasped, scraping a hand across his jaw and shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have… I never meant to…” His eyes raked over her, wild and raw with turmoil. “You’re so beautiful. And soft. I would ruin you.”
God, that hurt. Hearing him say she was beautiful and that he’d ruin her in the same breath. As if she hadn’t already sunk so low. Hot tears poked at her eyelids. No one had ever called her beautiful. Or looked at her with the kindness that Travis had. But she had to think straight for her son. “We’re both adults,” her voice came out clipped and rehearsed. “You’ve given me a great job opportunity and we both can be professional.”
Travis sagged against the fence and nodded his head. “You’re right.” He pushed off and passed, giving her a wide berth.
That hurt too.
You’ve been through worse, she reminded herself as she followed at a distance. She waited below the porch while he checked the house, and returned with Dax folded over his shoulder, her new phone in hand.
After he locked the door, he stopped in front of her and stretched out the phone. “Take this with you,” he said roughly. “You never know when you or Dax will need anything. And teach Dax how to call 911.”
She nodded mutely and followed him to the truck, touching him as little as possible when he helped her up. The drive back seemed endless, silence pressing in on them from all sides.
“Wait here,” he said when he pulled up in front of her little trailer. He proceeded up the short walkway and let himself in, turning on a light. She jumped down and waited at the end of the truck while he pulled Dax out and marched ahead of her into the trailer. She hovered by the door while he put Dax to bed, unsure of where to stand so she could avoid his physical presence. But the place was so tiny, there was no avoiding him. He paused in front of her, stony-faced. For a long moment she held his gaze, unable to look away. He raised a hand and gently cupped her cheek, thumb sliding across her cheekbone. The ache in her chest was so intense, tears sprang to her eyes. Before she could blink them back, he’d stepped away and disappeared through the door.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It was hotter than fuck. And dry. All he wanted was a glass of ice water. But if he moved, if he twitched, he’d give away their position to the enemy and they’d all get blown to bits. He still didn’t understand how they’d ended up using the same rendezvous point as the insurgents. Focused on the neck of the target in front of him, the hilt of his knife loosely grasped between his fingers, he was ready to let fly the second recognition
hit the guy’s eyes. He would not compromise the mission. The figure turned and the knife clattered from his hand.
What the fuck? Dax?
Travis sat bolt up, body covered in sweat, breathing in great gasps.
Motherfucker.
He covered his eyes, still breathing in huge gulps, heart slamming in his ears.
“Oh God, oh God,” he gasped, hand shaking as he reached for his phone. “Oh fuck, pick up, pick up, pick up.” His stomach churned as the phone rang once, twice, three… four times.
“Tell me you’re calling in the middle of the night because you finally got laid.” Weston’s voice came through the speaker like a lifeline.
If only.
“No. I need the name of your shrink. The dreams keep getting worse.”
Weston’s voice became instantly alert. “How bad?”
He couldn’t tell him. No one could know how bad this dream was. He wanted to puke from it. “Killing people I know. Confusing them with former ops.”
“I’ll text you the number right off. Anything happen tonight to trigger it?”
“I kissed Elaine.”
“’Bout damn time.”
He might laugh if the dream hadn’t been so horrifying. “You know I can’t do that.”
Weston sighed into the phone. “Don’t sell me that truckload of manure. Not interested. You need to kiss her and keep kissing her until it’s okay. Or until she tells you to get lost for good.”
“Oh, that’s brilliant advice.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
“All it is, is sensitization. Just like the horses. If kissing Elaine triggers you – kiss her more. If storms trigger you, go do a Goddamned rain dance until you can do it naked and laughing. But if you don’t believe me – talk to Doc Munger about it. All I can say is it helped me.”
His heart rate had slowed but was still racing. As long as he lived he’d never get that vision of Dax blotted from his head. “I think I’m gonna go take a walk.”
“That’s a good place to start. And Travis? This campaign is gonna be stressful. It’s good you’re dealing with this at the start.”
If this was the start, God help him when the going got tough as Weston had warned the other day it would. Still, if this was a wake-up call, maybe it was a good one. He didn’t ever want another dream like that one.
He grabbed his shirt from earlier, draped over the chair by his desk. Threw it on over his pajama bottoms and took the stairs two at a time. He had to get out of the house before the walls closed in on him. The tightness in his chest eased once he’d stepped off the porch. The moon cast everything in a pale silvery glow. Plenty of light for navigating through the pasture. He avoided his path this time, needing to focus his thoughts on where he stepped. Focusing on the unfamiliar always seemed to help drive the thoughts from his brain. He counted two rises before he saw the figure standing on the other side of the fence line.
Cassie.
Good. He needed to have a conversation with her anyway.
Judging from the way she held her body and the fact she was wearing pajama bottoms like he was, she’d had a rough night, too. “It’s the same moon over Kandahar,” he called out softly. “But the stars are brighter there.”
Cassie yelped, spinning around. “Jesus, Travis, you scared the shit out of me.” Her horse nickered in agreement and flicked her ears. “You scared Winny too. How in the hell do you do that?”
“Walk silently? How do you think?” The hard edge had returned to his voice.
She cocked her head studying him. “You okay?”
“If I was, I wouldn’t be out here. And neither would you.”
“Humor me, Navy boy.”
He laughed harshly at her jab. She had enough problems of her own, he wasn’t about to burden her with his. And she was the closest thing he had to a kid sister. He was supposed to be helping her. “Let’s just say it’s nothing that a moonlit walk won’t cure.”
“Why’d you rat me out to my mom?”
Travis cocked his head. “Who says I ratted?”
“Mom said she’d talked to you. Said you’d told her to tell me not to be late tomorrow.”
This time, he chuckled in earnest. “Your ma’s no dummy. But I didn’t rat you out.” He’d never betray her near miss, but he wasn’t above using her healthy fear of her mother to get her to show up to the Hansens’. “I might have applied a little tactical pressure though.”
“Hmph.”
His voice turned steely. “You blew me off today.” Had that really been today? So much had happened since then that his morning workout with Flipper seemed like ages ago.
“About that…” A cow lowed in the distance.
Travis placed his hands on his hips and studied the stars. “I’m waiting,” he muttered after a long silence.
“I had a nightmare after I fell asleep while on call the other night. I thought Parker was a Taliban fighter when he tried to wake me up.” She spoke so softly he barely heard her. But it registered, and when it did, he couldn’t help the sharp gasp as Dax flashed before his eyes again.
“That sucks.”
“Yeah.” She leaned her forehead into Winny, stroking the mare’s shoulder. “Surprised Parker, too. He landed on the floor. Woke up the whole unit.” She let out an embarrassed chuckle.
“You know, he may not have said it, but it doesn’t take an genius to see that Parker’s crazy about you.”
The pain in her voice echoed his own. “I don’t see why. I’m a fucked-up hot mess who can’t make it through the day without freaking out.”
So was she going to throw in the towel? Just give into it?
“You don’t have to be,” he yelled in frustration, more at himself than her, as Weston’s words fell out of his mouth. “You get to decide if your combat experiences are just a part of your story, or if they’re your only story.”
Fuck.
Weston was right. He had to get over this latest round of shit for himself. And for the sake of the town he loved. After a long while, he spoke softly. “No one ever goes on a mission solo. You’re part of a team, Cassie. And a smart warrior knows when to ask for help.”
“You know as well as I do, they’ll think I can’t hack it anymore, or they’ll try and medicate me.” Her voice was thick with worry and unshed tears. “I don’t know who I am when I’m not in the thick of it.”
And I don’t know who I am when I’m just Travis.
The awful truth of it hit him like a freight train. He might not have the addiction to adrenaline that she did, but he was no better off, hiding in his daily routine, keeping a rigid schedule. Protecting himself with rules and regulations so he didn’t have to think about who the real Travis was, outside of his chosen role as community protector. Hearing her was like holding up a mirror. Could he do the same for her? Be her mirror?
Travis pulled his gaze from the sky and focused on her. “So when you come home, you get a job as a firefighter and take unnecessary risks on the back of your bike. And you keep searching for that adrenaline high because that’s what you know.”
“But I love what I do,” she answered softly.
He nodded. “I know, I know.” He fisted his hands at his hips and looked up at the sky again. Maybe they could help each other. “Look at me. I’m no better. I went from killing machine to community protector.”
“At least you keep people safe.”
“Do I?” he asked harshly as names and faces flashed through his head. “Ask Parker’s uncle Warren or the others who died in the tornado how well I did that.” Ask my unit how well I protected them. Guilt hit him, fresh and hot as the hours after they’d died.
Did you ever get over it? Maybe that was a question for Dr. Munger. Could you ever go back to a normal, happy life? And if there was no going back, how did you move forward?
She scraped a hand over her face, nodding. “I was a coward today for blowing you off. I’m sorry. I’ll be there this afternoon.”
He grinned at her. He’d find
a way. For himself and her too. “Admission is the first step to recovery. And this time, I’ll bring you myself.”
“Screw you, Travis.”
“I think the correct answer is hooya.”
“That’s hooah, Navy boy.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Don’t go far, Dax,” Elaine called. “Travis will be here any second to pick us up.” She grabbed a very full trash bag from the bin, tied it and hauled it out. She’d have just enough time to run it to the dumpster before Travis arrived promptly at four. He was never late.
The late July heat beat on her neck as she walked the distance to the dumpster. She simultaneously loved and dreaded every afternoon. She’d been surprised to discover she enjoyed the analytics of voter identification. Because of her work, Travis’s first piece of mail was about to be sent out to targeted residents across the county. It felt good, knowing she was making a difference. But it didn’t quite make up for the ache at the base of her throat that sprang up when she occasionally snuck a glance his direction.
It was for the best, their enforced distance, even if it felt awkward when they were alone. She could tell that Weston was doing his best to act as a buffer, staying for dinner every night. Even going so far as to offer to run her and Dax home. But one thunderous look from Travis and he’d backed off, allowing Travis to continue making the nightly trip.
An SUV she didn’t recognize pulled up, and Travis leaned an elbow out the window.
“What’s this? Did something happen to Weston’s truck?”
Travis shook his head and grinned. Her stomach tap danced right up to her heart. He didn’t smile nearly enough. But when he did, she couldn’t help but smile back. The hard planes of his face softened, and even though they were obscured by his aviators, she could tell his eyes sparkled. “Nope. Thought it might be time to retire my beat-up Chevy. Drive something more sheriff-like.” He hopped out of the car and opened the passenger door. “And check this out.” He gestured for her to look in the back seat. “Built-in booster seats.”
