Say No More

by Rose, Karen

  This was what he’d wanted. Her. Willing. Open. Wanting him. He kissed her softly, intending to keep it chaste, but she whimpered and it broke his resolve. He turned in to her, threading his fingers through her hair, and the kiss turned hot and lush and . . . sultry. Because she was humming now, her hands on the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer.

  He pulled back enough to whisper against her mouth. ‘Touch me anytime you want to. Anywhere you want to. Please.’ Then he dived back in, wanting to live forever in this one moment when he felt her melt against him, her tentative fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt. Slipping one hand beneath the fabric to stroke his skin.

  ‘Like this?’ Her words were barely audible over the pounding of his own heart, but he heard.

  ‘Exactly like this.’ He wanted to do the same, to touch her soft skin, to cup her generous breasts in his hands, to feel their weight. To make her sigh in pleasure. But this was her show, so he settled for running a hand down her side, gripping her waist. Otherwise, he remained still as a statue. Letting her explore.

  Her fingers skimmed over him, making him shiver. Her kisses made him feel drunk, but they weren’t enough.

  Nothing would be enough, not with this woman.

  He relaxed his hold when she finally pulled away, her lips red, plumped, and wet. She was breathing hard.

  And there wasn’t a trace of wariness in her eyes. Just heat. And want.

  And I need to stop now. ‘Just so we’re clear,’ he said, his voice gravelly and rough. ‘That was exactly right. And we need to stop, because I don’t have that much self-control. Not around you.’ She looked very pleased with herself and it made him grin. ‘You like that, do you?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’ She eased her thumb over his lower lip. ‘What now?’

  He laughed helplessly. ‘Fucking hell, Mercy. Don’t ask me that. Not right now.’

  Her gaze dropped deliberately to the erection that there was no way he could hide. Her lips curled up, like a satisfied cat. ‘Oh.’

  He laughed again, joy bubbling up and warming him from the inside out. ‘Yeah. Oh.’ He pulled her against him, settling her against his chest, pressing his cheek into her hair. ‘I meant it when I said I have feelings for you. I’m not sure what comes next, either. I’m rusty at . . .’ He hesitated, then parroted her words back to her. ‘Being whatever it is that you need me to be.’

  ‘Just be you.’ She sounded sleepy already. ‘I like you.’

  ‘I like you, too.’

  She was quiet for so long that he thought she’d fallen asleep, but she surprised him. ‘Tell me about Bella. If you want to.’

  His heart stuttered. ‘Oh. Okay.’

  ‘You don’t have to.’

  ‘I’ll tell you. But why do you want to know?’ he asked. ‘I’m curious.’

  She made a noise in her throat, part huff, part sigh. ‘I don’t know. Maybe because you know everything there is to know about me now. You don’t need to tell me about Bella, but maybe share one thing that nobody else knows about you?’

  It was emotional quid pro quo and he was okay with that, because she was right. She’d opened her personal life like a book tonight and he knew it hadn’t been easy. Hell, he wasn’t sure how he’d managed to listen. He couldn’t fathom how hard it had been for her to reveal.

  ‘That would be Bella, then,’ he said. ‘Nobody knows about her. About our relationship. Well, almost nobody. She was the prosecutor assigned to my task force when I was in Gangs. I’d been undercover for nearly a year, trying to break into one of the bigger drug cartels in the county. She and I weren’t supposed to be together. Bad for our careers.’

  ‘And your safety,’ she murmured.

  ‘That too.’ He hadn’t cared about that so much back then. He’d just wanted to be with Bella in any way he could. ‘She knew my brother Jude first. They worked together in the prosecutor’s office here in Sacramento, and they’d been friends since college.’

  ‘Did he know about you and Bella?’

  ‘Not while we were together. While she was alive,’ he added, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. ‘My partner and I were picking off the minor characters in the cartel. The foot soldiers. Bella was getting them to flip on their superiors, one layer of the cartel at a time. She’d give the information to us, so that we’d know how to function in the organization, who to focus on. Then one of the midlevel dealers double-crossed her. She’d offered him a deal, but he was loyal and directed his attorney to warn the bosses that she was getting too close, that it was just a matter of time before she had enough proof to bring charges against the upper echelon. That’s when my partner and I were supposed to close in and make arrests.’

  He felt Mercy stiffen at his bitter tone. ‘What happened?’ she asked. ‘Were you compromised?’

  ‘No. But they got to Bella.’ He rubbed his jaw against the top of Mercy’s head, needing the contact. ‘They followed her one night when she left the office. And they killed her.’

  She slid her hand inside his shirt, over his pounding heart. And left it there. Not stroking, not stimulating. Just . . . connecting.

  His eyes burned. ‘And you thought you didn’t know how to do this,’ he whispered.

  She pulled away just enough to look up at him. ‘Do what?’

  He looked her straight in the eye. ‘Be who I need you to be. You’re doing it right now.’

  Her expression softened, pleased. ‘Thank you. For telling me that. For telling me about her.’ She kissed his jaw, then settled back against his chest. ‘I’m sorry you lost her. But glad you loved her.’

  It was so simple a statement, yet so very perfect. ‘I am, too. She was smart and funny. Stubborn as hell. Strong in ways I could never imagine. But she was compassionate, too. She made me a better person, you know?’

  ‘Then we owe her a debt.’

  He smiled at that. She’d parroted his words back at him as well. ‘It was hard keeping our relationship a secret. I wanted her sitting next to me at Sunday dinner. I wanted the world to know that I was hers. But we couldn’t be public. Not until the case was over. We had plans. I’d asked her to marry me and she’d said yes.’

  ‘And after she was gone? Why did you continue to keep her secret?’

  It was a valid question, a little harder to answer. ‘At first it was because I didn’t want to be transferred out of the task force, and I would have been had our relationship been known. I would have been “too close” to the case, and I wanted to bring the fuckers down.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘Yep.’ He hesitated, then continued, figuring she needed all the information before deciding how far she wanted this thing between them to go. ‘And I enjoyed it. I had to kill two of them, but the rest we took into custody. The two I killed were shooting at us and I was protecting my partner’s back, but I was glad to have killed them. They were the ones who’d killed Bella. Haven’t had even a second of regret.’ He paused a moment, then asked a question he wasn’t sure he was ready to have answered. ‘Does that make a difference to you?’

  ‘What, that you killed the men who murdered your fiancée so that your partner could go home to his family? Yes, it makes a difference. It makes me like you even more. And respect you. They wouldn’t have spared you, had you hesitated.’

  Peace flooded him and his tense muscles relaxed into the corner of the sofa. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘What about after? Why didn’t you tell your family after?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe because they’re so . . . them. I love them with everything that I am. But they can overwhelm me with love and I was really fragile at that point. I think I might have broken into too many pieces to put back together, if I’d let them comfort me. And then, after I’d grieved, it was kind of too late to tell them because then I would have needed to explain why I hadn’t told them before. It was exhausting to even consider.
’

  ‘I understand that. But your brother Jude knows?’

  ‘Yeah. Too much vodka one night and I blurted the story out to him. He showed up with a bottle of Absolut and a mountain of guilt. She’d taken the case over from him when the DA assigned him to another case. I think he suspected that we were together before I told him, and he felt guilty about that, too – that he’d “robbed” me of her, which was ridiculous. He ended up patting my back that night while I cried like a baby. He promised he wouldn’t tell a soul because I needed to stay on that case. When I killed the two who’d murdered Bella, we got drunk again. He moved to LA shortly after I closed the case. I think he needed a clean break. Too many memories here. But we still spend her birthdays remembering her, Jude and me. We drink to her memory and tell stories that make us laugh and cry.’

  Her palm against his heart was a welcome weight. ‘I’m glad you have each other.’

  ‘Me too.’ He let a few beats pass. ‘How long will you be here, Mercy?’

  ‘I have two months’ leave. I’ll go back for Aunt Quill’s funeral, of course.’ A shudder ran through her body, but she didn’t cry. He’d be shocked if she had any tears left after today. ‘I loved her. She clucked over me like a mama hen and when I graduated from college, the apartment next to hers opened up. I moved in and had an instant dinner companion. We played cards or watched her shows.’ She laughed quietly. ‘She loved Matlock and Murder, She Wrote. I took her to the doctor and made sure she remembered her medicine. She loved my cats and gave them treats when she thought I wasn’t looking. Like good treats. Real tuna. They loved her.’

  ‘I bet they did.’

  ‘I miss her,’ she whispered. ‘I want Ephraim to pay for what he did to her.’

  ‘I want him to pay for what he did to you.’

  ‘You and me both.’ She yawned and snuggled closer. ‘You’re right. This is really nice. Simply holding each other like this.’

  He smiled into her hair. ‘Yep.’

  ‘But so we’re clear? I don’t want to be just friends. I’d like to resume what you interrupted earlier at some point in the near future.’

  His cock surged to life. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Mm. Yeah. Do me a favor? The next time I come on to you, trust that I know what I want?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  She chuckled softly. ‘Night, Rafe.’

  So it seemed they were sleeping together. Rafe wasn’t going to complain. He pulled the throw blanket from the back of the sofa and maneuvered them from cuddled in the corner to stretched out together, his arms tight around her all the while. ‘Night, Mercy.’

  Seventeen

  Sacramento, California

  Monday, 17 April, 6.30 A.M.

  Mercy woke to a feeling of panic. Arms were holding her down, a man’s arms. She stiffened, poised to flee, but then her brain became alert and she relaxed.

  She wasn’t being held down. She was being held. And the arms holding her tight weren’t just any man’s arms. They were Rafe’s.

  And he has feelings. For me.

  It was . . . a lot. Especially before coffee. Please have some. She slipped out of his grip, tucking the blanket around him, then straightened, expecting to be stiff from sleeping on a sofa, but it had been incredibly cozy.

  She couldn’t wait to do it again. Or . . . She glanced at the bed, partially hidden behind a silk screen.

  Go for it. Be happy. Mercy bit back a laugh when she heard Farrah’s voice in her mind. But maybe her best friend was right. Maybe not being unhappy isn’t enough. Maybe I deserve to be happy, too.

  And maybe she was still loopy from Rafe Sokolov’s kisses and whispered confidences. Which had been exactly what she’d needed.

  She used the bathroom, then washed her hands and face, staring at her own reflection. She still had bags under her eyes, but nothing like they’d been before last night. Her eyes were . . . bright.

  And she was smiling, which was really new.

  And then she remembered that Quill was dead, and that people she’d never met had seen her naked. Yes, Bunker had gotten the video taken down quickly, but it had been online long enough.

  But you’re going to be brave, she reminded herself. You’re going to hold your head high, because you didn’t do anything wrong.

  ‘And you’re going to turn this shitstorm into something positive,’ she said out loud, just in case the woman in the mirror wasn’t listening to the voices in her head.

  ‘You sure are,’ Rafe said on the other side of the door, making her jump a foot.

  ‘Shit, Rafe. You scared me.’ Her face heated, knowing that he’d heard her talking to herself.

  ‘I’m very sorry,’ he said. ‘But can you talk yourself into stuff after I use the bathroom?’

  She laughed, pulling the door open to see him leaning against the door frame. Shirtless. Her laughter dried up and she stared. God. The man was beautiful. Golden and sleek, broad shoulders and acres of muscle. And that treasure trail that made her want so much more.

  His eyes warmed at her speechless scrutiny, but he broke the moment by clearing his throat. ‘As much as I appreciate you drooling over me, I really need to pee.’

  That startled her into another laugh and she smacked his chest as she passed him. ‘I wasn’t drooling.’ God, she hoped she wasn’t. She touched the corner of her mouth, spinning to glare at him when his laugh boomed loud and happy.

  ‘Made you check,’ he taunted, closing the door with a snap.

  ‘You’re a child,’ she called through the door primly, then, ignoring his deep chuckle, went to the little kitchenette in search of coffee.

  ‘Oh, thank the good Lord,’ she murmured at the sight of a Keurig machine. This she could do. She turned it on and started a cup, then found her phone, checking for any messages from the group.

  The group. She paused a moment, letting it sink in. She was part of the group now, the family, and not just because she was Gideon’s sister. She was part of Farrah’s family too, and part of John’s and all her sibs’. She loved that she’d been folded into those families, but this felt different in a very good way.

  You’re going to leave. And you’ll lose this.

  She frowned. ‘If I do leave, I’ll still be a part of them. I won’t let Gideon go again.’

  ‘Or me, I hope,’ Rafe said, startling her again.

  She glared up at him. ‘You need to wear a goddamn bell.’

  He grinned, unrepentant. ‘I talk to myself, too. Sometimes I even answer. What’s for breakfast?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she replied sweetly. ‘What were you planning to make?’

  His grin softened to a smile and he dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. ‘Pancakes.’ He pointed to the counter. ‘Pull up a stool. I’ll get your coffee.’

  She obeyed and watched contentedly as he held on to the counter for balance, bending over to pull a pan from the cabinet and showcasing a very nice butt in the sweats he’d slept in. He was still shirtless, which she thought he was doing on purpose, but she wasn’t about to complain. She touched the corner of her mouth again, just to make sure that she really wasn’t drooling.

  ‘I left a new toothbrush on the counter in the bathroom,’ he said as he poured pancake mix into a bowl. ‘And I found a hairbrush that Daisy left behind. I’d offer you her clothes, but you’re a little taller than she is.’

  ‘Like eight inches,’ Mercy protested. ‘That’s not a “little”, Rafe.’

  He looked over his shoulder, waggling his brows. ‘You shouldn’t open doors like that, Mercy.’

  She frowned at him. ‘Like what?’

  He chuckled. ‘Never mention “eight inches” around a guy. We’ll just snicker.’

  She considered what she’d said, then shook her head. ‘You really are a big kid, aren’t you?’

  He threw back his head and la
ughed. ‘Keep ’em coming, Mercy. I am a very big kid.’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ she muttered, but she laughed. ‘I’ll be right back.’

  She returned to the bathroom and freshened up as best she could. She hoped that Sasha was a heavy sleeper, because she was going to have to slip into the apartment and pick up some clean clothes.

  She slid back on the counter stool, a little disappointed to see that Rafe had put on a shirt. ‘So now you’re modest?’ she asked, sipping the coffee he’d put next to a plate and silverware.

  ‘No, now I’m frying bacon,’ he said, pointing to a pan. ‘I don’t care for third-degree burns, thanks.’ Then he grinned. ‘But I’ll take my shirt off again after I’m done cooking if you ask me nicely.’

  She shook her head, charmed, as she opened her email on her phone. Then squinted at an email address that she didn’t recognize. Her heart sank for a second or two, thinking that the messages were in response to that damn article, but then she smiled. ‘Hey, we got two replies to all those Pinterest emails we sent yesterday.’

  ‘All right! What do they say?’

  ‘This one is from Kay in Maine. She bought one of Amos’s tables. She said she bought it about five years ago, in a shop near Crater Lake. That might be too long ago to help us.’

  Rafe flipped the pancakes. ‘What about the second one?’

  Mercy read it, then looked up, barely able to contain a squeal of excitement. ‘This one is from Diana in Phoenix. She bought the quilt that Eileen’s mother made. She bought it back in October.’

  Rafe left the stove to read the email over her shoulder. ‘In a shop in Snowbush. Where is that?’ The bacon popped and he hurried back to the stove. ‘Can you look it up on Google Maps?’

  ‘Already doing it,’ Mercy said, then exhaled slowly. ‘It’s just a speck on the map. The closest town is Likely, California. It’s up in the northeast corner, catty-corner to where the Oregon and Nevada borders meet. Close to the Modoc National Forest.’