He wanted to take his time checking her house when it was daylight, when he could see everything better and make sure it was secure. He didn’t think she really wanted to go home alone tonight anyway. By tomorrow night, she’d probably have it all worked out in her head and wouldn’t be as vulnerable to the fear someone was trying to break in. Not that he could say for certain she’d have felt that way tonight, but experience had taught him that most people not in his profession usually spent a lot of time worrying about the what-ifs and almosts. Someone had shoved a note under her door last night and today someone threatened her. It was only natural to sit in her house and flinch at every little sound from outside.
But now she didn’t have to. The fact she’d agreed told him she’d needed to be elsewhere tonight. He slathered mustard and mayo on the bread, layered on ham and cheese, and then cut the sandwiches in half. He had pickles in the fridge so he grabbed a couple of spears, then he picked up a bag of chips and took everything back to the living room and set it on the coffee table.
Haylee came sashaying out of the back, black leggings covering her limbs. But she still wore his T-shirt, and he got a very masculine thrill out of seeing her in it. She’d combed her hair and it hung in a shiny curtain down her back. She smiled at him as she came over to sit beside him.
“Wow, this looks really good. You even toasted the bread.”
“I’m not just a pretty face, Haylee.”
She laughed. He loved the way she sounded in that moment, so happy and carefree. Just a few minutes ago she’d been angry and frustrated. He liked hearing her laugh without pain or fear. It was why he’d made the joke.
“Apparently not.” She picked up the sandwich and took a bite. “Mmm, oh wow. So good.” She chewed and swallowed and he tried not to feel sexually aroused at the appreciative sounds she made.
“It’s not sex, honey. Though I can provide that too if you’re feeling hungry for more.”
Dammit, not what he’d intended to say. He didn’t want her to feel any pressure or discomfort.
She laughed again. “First of all, a man who makes you a sandwich this delicious doesn’t have to provide sex in order to impress you. And second, a man who makes you a delicious sandwich and gives you an orgasm is definitely marriage material. You might want to dial it down there, Dean. I might never leave if you aren’t careful.”
He couldn’t help but snort a laugh. She amused the hell out of him when he least expected it. “You’re funny.”
“Sometimes.” She sighed happily and leaned back on the couch with her paper plate. “What’s on TV? Anything good?”
“Depends on what you think is good.”
“How about HGTV? Or the Food Channel. Oooh, I know—the Hallmark Channel!”
He tried not to let his horror show. He must have failed because she laughed again. “I’m kidding, stud. What do you like? Isn’t there a football game on? Formula One? Something appropriately manly?”
“There’s football,” he said warily. “But are you serious about that or just saying it to accommodate me?”
She chucked his arm with her free hand. “Okay, so I do like those channels, but I was pretty sure you wouldn’t so I said it to get a reaction. I am serious about football. I like football. So please put on the game.”
He wondered if it was a test or something, but then she arched an eyebrow and he thought Fuck it. If she didn’t like it she could say so. He turned on the game and grabbed his plate.
They watched the game in silence for several minutes. And then Haylee let out a groan when the quarterback got sacked. “Seriously, dude? You couldn’t let go of the damned ball? Just throw the stupid thing for pete’s sake!”
Wolf eyed her with interest. She glared at him. “What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“He had three open receivers out there. But this guy couldn’t throw a rock over a cliff, much less a football into the arms of a waiting receiver.”
Wolf laughed. “Wouldn’t have guessed you were such a fan.”
“Wouldn’t have guessed I could play pool either.”
“No, you got me there.” Damn he liked her. A lot. She was more interesting than any woman he’d ever dated before. This is the point at which he’d usually be wondering if the sex was any good, but he already knew the answer to that too.
Her phone dinged and she jumped. She picked it up and peered at the screen. He tried to keep his eyes on the game and not watch her expression, but he couldn’t help himself. She was frowning.
“Anything wrong?” he asked.
She looked up. Pasted on a smile. “Of course not.” She dropped her gaze to her phone again. But she didn’t type an answer. Instead, she set it face down and picked up a potato chip.
He waited a few moments, but she didn’t say anything. Just frowned at the television and mechanically ate potato chips.
“Haylee.”
She jerked her gaze to his. “Yes?”
“The message. What is it?”
Her frown grew harder. Then she blew out a breath. “It’s Tony. He wants to talk.”
Jealousy twisted inside him. He didn’t understand it, but there it was. “Did he say what about?”
“No. He said last night was fun. And that he wanted to call me if I wasn’t busy.”
“You didn’t answer him.”
“Because I’m busy. If I answered, then how busy could I be?”
He couldn’t fault her logic there. “You don’t look happy about it.”
She blew out a breath. “Because now you’ve got me wondering if he wants more than friendship.”
“You honestly had no clue he might?”
She closed her eyes for a second. “Okay, yes, I suspected. But until you confirmed it, I thought it was just me being paranoid.”
“How long did he date your friend?”
“A couple of months. He was pretty broken up by her death.”
“And now he’s interested in you.”
She sighed. “You might be right.” She picked up her phone again, started to type. Then she pressed send and gave him a smile. “I told him I can’t right now as I’m on a date.”
Wolf’s eyebrows lifted. “Good play, Haylee.”
“Thanks.” Her mouth twisted as she looked at the TV again. “Come on, dude! Did you put butter all over your hands before walking onto the field today?”
Wolf snorted a laugh. Then he lay back on the couch and enjoyed himself.
Chapter Eighteen
The game lasted another hour and then it was over and Haylee was yawning again. She liked watching the game with Wolf. He was quieter about it than she was, but he still got pissed at bad plays and bad calls. They high fived each other on the good plays, and cheered when their receivers were running down the field with the ball.
“One of the guys at work has a brother in the NFL,” he said during a commercial break when he’d muted the TV. “Storm Kelley.”
Haylee felt her jaw drop. “Storm Kelley? He’s kind of a big deal.”
“Yeah, sure is. Best quarterback in the league this season.”
“Think he’ll get a Super Bowl win?”
“Hard to say. I think his team isn’t good enough to propel him.”
“Their defense sucks,” she said.
“They need a good first round pick to turn it around.”
“Agreed.” She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. He noticed.
“You should go to bed. I have to be at training early, so I’ll be leaving around five.”
“Wow, that’s super early.”
“Yep. But you don’t have to get up. Sleep in and when I get back I’ll take you home. There’s eggs and cereal and coffee. Have what you like.”
“That’s sweet of you.”
He shrugged. “If you say so.”
“It was sweet of you to pick me up today. And to let me stay. I’m sorry if I’ve inconvenienced you at all.”
“You didn’t inconvenience me. I told
you to call me if you needed me. I didn’t give you my number to be nice.”
“I appreciate that.” It felt awkward all of a sudden. Why was it awkward? “You know, I could sleep here on the couch.” She eyed it. “It’s certainly big enough for me. If you’d like your bed back.”
His gaze was hot. “I remember how we slept in El Salvador.”
Her heart thumped. “I remember it too. But that’s not all we did.”
“No.” He shook his head. “You take the bed, Haylee. I’m fine out here.”
She didn’t want to go. In fact, she wanted to curl up against him like she had that night in El Salvador. She got to her feet reluctantly. “Thanks, Wolf. For the sandwich and the company—and everything, really.”
“You’re welcome. You need anything to be comfortable? Another blanket? A different pillow?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” She started to walk backward, toward the hall, her gaze still tangled with his, her belly twisting with fiery need. “Goodnight, Wolf,” she said, determined to make it to his bedroom without asking him to join her.
His gaze was on fire. “Goodnight, Haylee. Sleep tight.”
“You too.”
She turned and fled, her body throbbing with thwarted desire as she closed the bedroom door behind her and leaned against it, eyes closing as she concentrated on breathing in and out, in and out.
Jeez, she’d given him that whole speech about how it wasn’t going to be so easy for him this time around, that she wanted him to work for it, yet here she was wishing she could jump him right damn now.
Haylee went over and climbed beneath his sheets. She ached to feel the way she had back in El Salvador. To experience that perfect melding of bodies, the heated build to orgasm, the explosion of pleasure that wrung her out and left her craving more.
But there was something else too. Something she had to acknowledge. If she did that, if they spent the night together again, it wasn’t just sex to her. There were emotions involved, at least for her—and she didn’t really want to find out that she was the only one.
She lay there and strained to hear the sounds coming from the living room. The television stayed on, but she heard him walking around. He started to talk and her breathing grew shallow as she tried to hear the words. He was on the phone with someone, but what was he talking about? Her?
For a brief moment, she wondered if he was talking to a woman. If everything he’d told her was a lie and he was actually involved with someone else and that’s why he hadn’t come to see her like he’d said he would. It was possible. Anything was possible.
She’d known men who lived double lives. Her father had done so before he’d left them and married the younger woman he’d been seeing. Haylee bit her bottom lip. That had been a hard time. Her mother cried a lot, and then she suddenly didn’t. Her father tried to stay involved, and then he didn’t. Haylee had been young and confused, but she remembered those feelings vividly.
And she damned sure wasn’t going through them as an adult. Which meant it didn’t matter if he was involved with someone else because right now he wasn’t involved with her. And she wasn’t going to cross that line in the sand unless she was positive he didn’t have anyone else. Haylee Jamison was nobody’s side piece.
She lay in the dark and fumed for a while. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but she awoke with a start sometime later. The room was dark and there was no sound coming from the living room. Not even the television. She fumbled for her phone to see the time.
Two a.m. Lord.
She lay there, more awake than she wanted to be, and scrolled through her phone. She checked messages—there was a return text from Tony, a text from her editor about the profile of a new congresswoman she was supposed to be working on, and a message from her mother that said simply Are you coming home for Thanksgiving?
Considering Thanksgiving was still two months away, she hadn’t actually decided. Thanksgiving with her mother was typically low-key. Mom ordered a smoked turkey from a local BBQ restaurant, and they made sides. She invited some of her colleagues who were single. Everyone brought a dish. It often turned into a literary salon of sorts. Haylee loved it, but she also missed her own friends. And football, which her mom didn’t watch.
Haylee left all the messages unanswered for now. She’d reply at a more decent hour. Most people turned on their Do Not Disturb function at night, but Haylee was pretty sure her mother did not. If she woke Mom with a text, she’d want a phone call. Haylee wasn’t about to call her mother while she was sleeping in a man’s bed. Not that Mom would know, but Haylee would.
She sighed and put the phone down. She needed to pee. She pushed the covers back and got out of bed. The bathroom was in the hall so she opened the door very quietly and listened. There was no sound from the living room. She padded to the bathroom, closed the door, and did her business. Then she returned to the bedroom and considered calling an Uber. She could sneak out and head home and Wolf wouldn’t be any wiser. Kind of the way he’d snuck out on her in El Salvador.
Something told her it wouldn’t be that easy, though. She decided to test the theory by trekking to the kitchen for something to drink. The living room was dark as she tiptoed in. Wolf was a hulking figure on the couch. He lay on his back, face up, not moving.
She was almost to the kitchen when his voice rumbled into the night. “You okay, Haylee?”
She jumped. “Yes. Just looking for something to drink.”
He stood with the grace of a cat rising from a nap. Then he was striding toward her as if he hadn’t just been sleeping. How the hell did he do that?
“There’s water,” he said. “Or Gatorade.”
“Water’s good.”
He moved past her, opened the fridge, and pulled out a bottle of water that he handed to her. She clutched it. “Thanks.”
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked after a few moments in which she didn’t move.
She started. “Yes, fine. Why?”
“You seem nervous.”
Did she? “I’m not. Sorry. Just thinking.”
“You sleep good?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “But I’m afraid I’m awake now. My sleep’s been all screwed up.”
“That’s okay. I’m awake too.”
She gave him a lopsided grin. “So now what?”
“Coffee?”
“Sounds good.”
He went over and pressed a button on the coffee pot. She was impressed that he’d had it ready to go. It started to brew and she leaned against the counter, watching him move with a grace that always surprised her considering how big and masculine he was.
“It’s two in the morning,” she said unnecessarily. “How are you so awake?”
He shot her a look. “How are you?”
“My sleep schedule is whacked,” she said. “It’s part of the job, really. I mean I have appointments and do interviews and stuff during regular hours, but I also work on my own schedule. So long as the work gets done, they don’t mind. What’s your excuse?”
“The job,” he told her. She must have frowned because he lifted an eyebrow. “No, really. You think parachuting into places like Guatemala happens on a nine to five schedule?”
She had a very strong vision of him—grease painted face, stark gray-blue eyes—ripping her attacker away and then asking her, very seriously, if she was okay. A wave of emotion flooded her. She didn’t care to examine it. “I didn’t think about it. Guess not.”
“Nope. I get on a pretty regular schedule when we’re home, but we’ve only been back about a week. It takes time.”
She wanted to know more about him. Everything. And wasn’t that just a little bit dangerous? “So how often do you, uh, do that kind of thing?”
“All the time, Haylee. It’s the job.”
A pang of something stabbed into her. Worry? “It’s dangerous.”
“Yes.” He busied himself with getting cups out of the cabinets. “Cream? Sugar?”
“
Cream.”
He went to the refrigerator and pulled out the cream. Then he faced her. She was still reeling over the revelation what he did was dangerous. As if she didn’t already know it. Seriously, who was she kidding? Of course she knew. She’d fucking been there.
“This is part of the reason I didn’t come see you,” he said quietly. “It’s a lot to take in. One night stands? Easy. A relationship? Not so easy. I’ve been in Special Ops for seven years now—and I’ve never yet found a woman who could handle it. You said you wanted to date me—but do you really? Can you handle this, or would you rather chalk us up to a one-night stand and move on?”
She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Maybe he was pushing her too far too fast, but dammit, he’d lain on that uncomfortable fucking couch, tossing and turning and thinking hard about this. She wanted to date, but what the fuck was the end game? He liked her—a lot—but if she couldn’t handle his life, then why start? She had to understand what it meant. Had to.
Or the whole damn thing was doomed.
The coffee maker beeped and he turned to get the pot. Poured it into two cups. Handed her a cup with a spoon so she could stir in cream. Lifted his and sipped while she splashed in the cream. Then she stirred and suddenly frowned as she watched him drink.
“Why do you have cream if you don’t use it?”
“I use it in tea.”
She tipped her head to the side in adorable confusion. “Really? You drink cream in tea but not coffee?”
He shrugged. “I don’t drink tea often, but my mom always fixed it with cream. It’s like going home again, you know?”
Her lashes dipped as she lifted her cup and drank. “Yes. I understand that. My mom’s grilled cheese sandwiches are like that for me. She butters the inside of the bread, and she puts a slice of cheddar and mozzarella in there. It melts in your mouth.”
HOT Justice: A Hostile Operations Team - Book 14 Page 16
