Thomas gave another frantic wave of his fist and a loud cry. “Hold on, baby.” Popping his pacifier into his eager mouth, she pulled her tennis shoes from beneath the bed, slipped them on and stood.
Two steps and Julie stopped cold, her gaze riveted on Dylan and the picture he made lounging in the chair, his cowboy hat tipped low on his head. He wore nothing but jeans, his long feet bare, propped on another chair and hooked at the ankles. A faint snore filled the room and she realized he was asleep.
And half-naked.
The truth echoed in her head as her gaze shifted to his bare chest. Dark, silky swirls of hair spread from nipple to nipple, then narrowed into a funnel that dipped beneath the waistband of his jeans. His shoulders were broad, his arms heavily muscled, as if he spent his time doing hard labor rather than P.I. work.
He did do hard labor, she reminded herself. He divided his time between Finders Keepers, the private investigation firm he ran with his sister, Lily, and the Double G, his family’s ranch just outside of San Antonio. Dylan Garrett could ride and rope and cowboy as well as any of the paid hands at the Double G. She’d seen him on the back of a horse the few times she’d been out to the ranch. Watched his expertise as he maneuvered the reins and went after a rowdy calf. Enjoyed the full-blown grin that had curved his lips when he’d broken a particularly ornery horse.
But in all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen him like this.
So hard and muscular and...sexy.
You’re not some naive virgin, she reminded herself. You’ve seen men before.
Sebastian was buff and tanned and very attractive. The sight of Dylan shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary.
Her head knew that, yet her heart continued to hammer. Her blood rushed. Her nerves buzzed.
The urge to reach out and run her fingers through his chest hair, trace the contours of every muscle, feel the steady thump of his pulse against the pad of her finger, was nearly overwhelming.
This was Dylan, she reminded herself. Her buddy, her pal. She shouldn’t be having such thoughts about him, particularly since he didn’t have similar thoughts about her.
Nothing but friendship.
They’d spent plenty of time together over the years, and never once had he made a pass. He’d always been a perfect gentleman. Someone she could trust.
A friend.
She knew that, and still her body responded to his. Called to his. Begged for his. As if he were more to her.
Because she wanted him to be more.
Her hand moved forward and she reached out, stopping just shy of actually making any contact, thanks to Thomas, who chose that moment to coo.
Heavens, what was she thinking?
She wasn’t thinking, period. Obviously a few hours’ sleep hadn’t done anything to help her state of mind. She was still punchy. Irrational.
Scared.
The fear accounted for her racing heart. Fear and anxiety and the need to get on with things. That along with the fact that Dylan Garrett was one good-looking male specimen and she was a red-blooded female.
A tired female at that. Coupled with the fact that she’d always found Dylan handsome, that she’d even fantasized about him on occasion, it was no wonder her body was experiencing such a response.
She wasn’t surprised, but she was dismayed.
The timing was all wrong, not to mention Dylan was off-limits. Julie knew all too well what happened when friends took their relationship a step further. If things didn’t work out, it wasn’t merely a romance lost, but a friendship. And Julie valued Dylan’s far too much to take such a risk on account of lust.
And that’s all it was. He was handsome. She was a fully functional woman who’d been celibate too many months to count. It made sense.
But this wasn’t the time or the place, and certainly not the man. She wouldn’t ruin the special closeness she shared with Dylan by making advances toward him.
On that note, Julie forced her attention past him to the pile of change sitting on the table. Grabbing a few quarters, she moved toward the door and reached for the lock.
A loud click filled the room as the dead bolt turned. In a heartbeat, Julie found herself shoved up against the door, a hard wall of solid muscle pressing into her back.
“Where do you think you’re going?” The words were low and deep, rumbling through her ear and making her heart pound even faster.
She drew in a deep, steadying breath and tried to ignore the man behind her, surrounding her, pressing into her.
Pressing?
Yes, he was definitely pressing. Not hard, mind you. Just enough so that she couldn’t move.
She could only breathe. And feel.
Heavens, could she feel.
The hard wall of his chest at her back. The warmth of his breath against the bare curve of her neck. The firm cradle of his hips against her buttocks. The solid feel of his legs flanking hers.
“You shouldn’t be going outside. Especially not when you think I’m asleep.”
“I didn’t want to wake you. I...” Julie licked her suddenly dry lips and drew in a shaky breath. “Thomas is hungry and—” she gave a quick flick of her tongue across her bottom lip “—so am I.”
Boy, was she ever.
She forced the notion aside and concentrated on taking deep, measured breaths. A bad move, because his scent now filled her head as well, skimmed her nerve endings, coaxed her body to life.
This is Dylan, remember? Your friend. Your best friend.
“I saw vending machines over by the stairwell when we checked in.” She ducked beneath his arm and sidestepped away. “I have formula but I wanted to see if there was any apple juice or plain cookies.”
“We’ll go to a supermarket.”
“That’s what I had in mind, but in the meantime...” Thomas chose that moment to let loose a loud wail. “Looks like he’s not going to wait any longer. I’ll fix a bottle,” Julie said.
Dylan grinned, a slight tilt of his lips that sent a surge of warmth through her and made her heart pound faster. “He does sound desperate. I’ll go.” He pulled his shirt on and tucked the gun into the back waistband of his pants.
“Oh, and see if they have Doritos,” Julie said as he pulled the door open and peered outside.
“Doritos? For a baby?” Dylan looked aghast.
“The Doritos are for me,” Julie answered him.
He smiled this time. A typical Dylan smile, but it didn’t draw the usual response. There was no sense of comfort. No rush of relief. Instead, her heart fluttered and a strange warmth hummed through her body.
Friends, she reminded herself, holding fast to the knowledge.
“Lock the door behind me,” he finally said, turning away and stepping outside.
Julie hurried over to her bag to get Thomas a fresh diaper and prepare his bottle. While she changed the baby, she tried to make some sense out of what had just happened.
She’d responded to Dylan Garrett. His closeness. His masculinity. Him.
Despite the fact that he was her friend. Despite the fact that they were in a dangerous situation and she should be totally and completely focused on staying alive.
The thing was, Dylan made her feel alive. More than she’d ever felt before. He made her heart pound and her blood rush.
Under any other circumstances, she’d feel guilty. After all, legally she was still a married woman. But in her heart she hadn’t been married since she’d thrown her rings into that Dumpster a year and a half ago—the day she’d learned the truth about the man she’d married.
What a mess her life had become.
She’d been so certain of Sebastian’s love, of his character, and she’d been dead wrong. The love she’d felt for him had died along with her illusions.
She had learned from her mistakes. No way would she risk her friendship with Dylan over a temporary case of lust. Dylan was too good a man to lose.
* * *
DYLAN POPPED two quarters into the arch
aic-looking vending machine and squinted against the early morning sunlight.
Exhaustion tugged at him. He slid a hand around his neck and squeezed, feeling the pull of muscle and tendon. He was tired and uptight and damned happy.
He grinned, remembering the feel of Julie’s hair trailing across his chest when she’d leaned over him to pick up the spare change. More than that, it was the look in her eyes when he’d opened his and stared up at her.
Desire.
There’d been no mistaking the fierce glitter of her gaze, or the way she’d licked her lips as if she’d wanted to taste him as badly as he’d wanted to taste her.
But he’d seen surprise as well, and he knew the emotion he stirred was unfamiliar to her, and so the desire had faded as quickly as it had sparked.
If it had been there in the first place.
He ignored the nagging doubt. Success was all about being positive. About staying focused on the objective and ignoring the small deterrents along the way.
“But I want to go to the pool now.” The child’s voice drew Dylan from his thoughts. He realized in a heartbeat that the man and the two small kids he’d seen the night before stood not three feet away.
Dylan hadn’t even heard their approach. He’d been too lost in his thoughts.
“I already told you,” the man said, exasperation in his voice. “We’ll go after breakfast.”
“But that’s too long.”
“And it’s only going to get longer if you don’t stop bothering me and let me get your mother’s Diet Coke.” His words met with a lot of grumbling. “Now get back in the room and watch cartoons.” He shrugged as he came up next to Dylan. “Little woman can’t function without her morning caffeine.”
“I know the feeling.” Dylan swiped his own tired eyes and pictured an extra-large cup of steaming black coffee from the nearest convenience store.
“Long night?” the man asked as Dylan stepped to the side and started to feed quarters into the snack machine.
“You could say that.” As he leaned down to retrieve a package of vanilla wafers—the only cookies the machine offered—the hair on the back of his neck tingled. Awareness skittered down his spine and he turned.
A man stood across the parking lot in an open motel room doorway. He took a drag off the cigarette in his hands before his gaze collided with Dylan’s.
Dylan expected the man to look away as most people did when caught staring, but he didn’t. He held Dylan’s gaze for a few long moments before flicking the butt of his cigarette and turning to disappear into his room.
“You and the little woman on vacation?” The man next to him fed more quarters into the neighboring machine and retrieved a third diet soda. “I saw you checking in last night,” he said by way of explanation. “You and your wife?”
“Um, yeah.”
“Vacation?” the man prodded as Dylan’s gaze drifted back to the closed motel room door behind which the stranger had disappeared.
“Yeah,” he said. “We’re out doing a little sightseeing. Off to see family. How about you?”
“I agreed to AstroWorld in lieu of two weeks with the in-laws from hell.” As the two small kids started to punch each other at his side, he shook his head. “I’m actually starting to rethink the decision.”
Dylan winked before letting his gaze slide back across the parking lot, to the black Suburban parked in front of the door where the other man had been standing. He made a mental note of the license-plate number.
“...all the way to Florida. We’ve only been gone a few days, and already the wife’s laid up with a massive migraine and I’m getting there. That’s why we’re here. We were going to drive all the way through to Houston and Six Flags yesterday, but then the wife started getting that familiar pounding and bam, we’re cooped up in motel hell with a bag full of greasy burgers and two kids that are driving me nuts.”
“Hope the caffeine helps.”
“It will, for the wife that is.” He struggled with the child clinging to his shorts. “I’m beginning to think the only thing that’s going to save me is a noose.”
Dylan grinned before cutting another glance across the parking lot. “Take it easy.”
“If only.”
A few minutes later, Dylan closed the door behind him and started gathering his stuff off the table.
“We’re taking off.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked as she fished a vanilla wafer from the package and gave it to Thomas.
“Nothing. Right now. But we’re not sticking around to see that change.”
“Something happened outside.”
“Nothing happened.”
“You saw something?”
Dylan didn’t turn toward her. He kept gathering things up and she touched his arm.
“You did see something.”
“More like someone.”
“Sebastian?”
“One of his men. Maybe. I don’t want to stick around to find out.”
Panic fired her hazel eyes and Dylan barely resisted the urge to pull her into his arms and swear on his mother’s grave that everything would be all right. That he would let nothing—no one—hurt her or Thomas.
But she already knew that. He’d pledged as much time and time again, until he felt like a damn superhero in her eyes.
No more.
He peeled off his T-shirt and the panic in her eyes fled. The fire in them burned brighter, hotter. “What are you doing?” she finally blurted, as if the sight of him undressing bothered her a lot more than it should have.
“Changing shirts. I always keep spare clothes in my trunk. Thank God. Otherwise I’d still be in my tux from yesterday.”
“That’s not what I mean. Why are you changing shirts here? There’s a bathroom.”
“I don’t need the bathroom. I just need a fresh shirt. Does this bother you?”
“Of course not.” She cleared her throat.
He grinned as he slid on the shirt, enjoying the way her gaze seemed riveted on his chest.
“Are you okay?”
“What?”
“I said are you okay?”
“No.” She shook her head and her gaze collided with his. “I—I mean of course I’m fine. Or I will be just as soon as we get on the road.” She turned and started stuffing clothes into her duffel bag.
“We’ll hit a supermarket to pick up a few things for Thomas, and grab a coffee for us.” He checked his gun and jammed it back into the back waistband of his pants, his expression serious now. “We’ve got a long ride ahead.”
CHAPTER FOUR
IT WAS THE longest ride of Julie’s life.
She tried to tell herself it was because of the anxiety that built in the pit of her stomach as they neared Louisiana. But in reality, it had more to do with the man seated only inches across the seat from her.
The closeness of his body had made her catch her breath on more than one occasion, a reaction she hid by clearing her throat and shifting in her seat. That, or turning to eye Thomas, who sat in the back seat, his head limp against the side of the car seat, eyes closed, chest rising slow and steady with each deep breath.
Thomas was enough to distract her for a few seconds as she contemplated how far her son had come in such a short time. At birth, he’d been small, a victim of a stressful pregnancy spent on the run without regular prenatal care.
But visiting an OB-GYN hadn’t been an option for Julie when she had been running for her life. She’d been more concerned with survival, and so she’d only managed an occasional checkup here and there at various clinics. Hattie had been her guardian angel. It had taken Julie a long time to track down her old friend, but Hattie had welcomed her immediately. She would have let Julie stay even after Thomas was born, but Julie had been so afraid Sebastian would find her there. Sadly she’d been right, but Hattie had been the one to pay.
Although Sebastian’s betrayal had shaken Julie to the very core, she had not lost her faith in the goodness of most people. Ther
e had been Hattie, of course, and Justin Dale, the physician in Cactus Creek who had cared for Thomas when he developed pneumonia. It was hard to believe he’d been such a sick baby. At eight months he was thriving, his cheeks had taken on a rosy tinge and his arms and legs filled out to a pleasing plumpness.
And then of course there was Dylan.
Gratitude and friendship. That’s what she felt for Dylan. Or what she should have felt as she sat there next to him with barely six inches of upholstery separating them.
Not the heat. The pull. The attraction.
He really was good-looking. He had short, sun-streaked brown hair and piercing blue eyes. The soft white cotton of his shirt stretched across his broad chest and banded his muscled biceps. A sprinkling of dark hair covered his forearms, and his muscles flexed as he drum-med his fingertips on the steering wheel. Her attention shifted to his hands, so large and tanned, his fingers long. Strong.
Before she drew her next breath, the image hit her. Those long, firm fingers dancing across her skin, touching, stroking—
“Penny for your thoughts.”
His deep, rumbling voice shattered her thoughts and her gaze jumped to his. Guilt flooded her and heat rose to her cheeks.
“I, um, nothing,” she finally muttered. A million wouldn’t be enough to force a confession.
She might not be able to suppress her thoughts, but she still had the small consolation that he wasn’t aware of what was racing through her mind.
Or was he?
He stared at her a moment longer, and she could have sworn that he saw everything she was thinking, felt what she was feeling.
The same heat. The same pull. The same attraction.
Crazy.
“So do you think we’re being followed?”
“It’s a possibility.” He shook his head. “I still don’t get it.”
“Get what?”
“How Sebastian could have ended up in the mob. Hell, he was my best friend. How could I miss the real man all those years?”
“I keep asking myself the same question. But we were so young back when we met—so naive. The three of us had such good times. The only hint I ever had was Sebastian’s head-on approach to life. He was fearless.”
Dylan's Destiny Page 4
