Keeping to the dark side of the street, he spotted a dark-blue, four-door sedan facing him across the street from Brooke’s house, right where Dolores claimed the man would be. Gavin had to get behind the guy if he had any hope of a sneak attack.
A small strip of trees sat across the street from Brooke’s house. Hers was the fourth one down on the right side, but only two homes resided on the left. He darted from the first to the second house, hoping neither one had motion detectors that would turn on if he passed by. So far so good. He made it behind the car, hopefully without detection.
As he neared the sedan from the rear, he detected a low rumble emitting from the engine. The man probably kept the car on for the heat. Gavin crouched low and dashed behind the vehicle. If the driver put the car in reverse, Gavin would be dead. Though it was dark, his eyes had adjusted to the dim light. No license plate appeared on the back. What did that say about the innocence of the owner? He spotted an NRA sticker on the right side bumper, but that didn’t confirm the identity of the man. A ton of people around here were big gun advocates.
Keeping below the level of the driver’s side window, Gavin inched his way forward until he reached the man’s door. When he heard no movement inside the cab, he stood up and flashed the light in the man’s face.
The startled man looked straight into the light and grinned.
Oh, shit.
Chapter Four
Gavin froze. For starters the man was African American, and not the Caucasian Brooke claimed. Clearly this guy wasn’t the killer but that didn’t guarantee he wasn’t working for the drug lord.
Gavin weighed the odds. This guy might just be a dad waiting for his daughter to end her evening, though the lack of other cars in the road implied that the possibility of a nearby teen party was small.
He kept his weapon by his side and tapped the window. If nothing else, the man should be aware Gavin was onto him.
The guy rolled down the window and raised his weapon in one fluid motion. His military training kicked into high gear, and Gavin twisted to side just as the gun fired. Pain streaked through his upper arm. Fuck. The gun had a silencer, too, implying this was no two-bit operation, but one orchestrated by a pro.
While the law was on his side in that he could claim self-defense, Pleasure didn’t need the wrath of a drug cartel descending on it, so he didn’t shoot back. Before Gavin had the chance to decide his next step, the man peeled down the road, leaving burnt rubber in his wake.
Shit. He needed to follow him. Maybe he’d lead him to the real killer. Gavin sprinted the quarter-mile down the road, keeping his gaze on the vehicle to see which way he’d turn when he reached the T in the road. His arm pounded, but he ignored the ache. Taillights lit up. Wheels spun. Brakes squeaked as if he was planning to return to the scene. Gavin rushed to the side of the road, ready to hide. The car stopped. Two pops sounded, and then the man sped away.
Not wanting to draw any conclusions but fearing the worst, he ran to his car. The flat tire confirmed the worst. “You prick.”
Blood dribbled down his sleeve and over his fingertips. The failure left a bitter taste in his mouth. Heart racing, he slid into the driver’s side and placed a finger in the hole in his jacket. Shit. This was his favorite one, too.
He grabbed his cell from his pocket and called Justin. Asking for help sucked almost as much as getting shot, but he wanted to get back to Brooke sooner rather than later, and changing the tire with only one good arm would delay him.
* * * *
“You need to go to the clinic to get patched up,” his cousin said. He’d arrived within fifteen minutes of receiving the call.
Gavin had removed his jacket and showed Justin the bullet had only grazed him. “I’ll put a bandage on it when I get home.” He’d been shot a few times during the war. This was truly a scratch.
“Suit yourself, but I’m going to write up a report.”
“You do that.” As long as the killer never read it, he didn’t care.
“I’ll ask Tom to drive by Brooke’s house every few hours to make sure the guy doesn’t return.”
“I doubt he’ll bother. They know we’re onto them.”
“We need to follow up.” Justin cupped his shoulder inches above his wound. “Come in tomorrow and you can give me a more detailed description of the guy, okay?”
“I only saw him for a second.”
“Stop by.” It was a command more than a request.
Justin probably wanted to make sure his arm was good. “Will do.”
“Now stay in the car. I’ll have the tire changed in no time.”
Another set of hands probably wouldn’t help. Damn. True to his word, the tire iron clanged in the back and the bad tire rolled then settled in the back. Justin tapped the rooftop then eased into his cruiser. Since Justin parked in front of him, he pulled away first. Gavin followed his cousin for about a mile then turned right. It was past eleven, and he hoped Brooke had gone to bed. If she saw his injury, she might freak, not because he’d been hurt but because of what the killer might do to her.
He wished he could bring her better news, but the stakes had gotten worse instead of better. The fact the killer had minions to do his dirty work scared him. Now more than ever, he was determined to be more vigilant.
His home came into view minutes later, for which he was thankful. His arm throbbed like a bitch and blood coated his jacket and jeans. He opened the garage door electronically and pulled in next to Riley’s vehicle. As soon as they picked up Brooke’s car, he’d park outside so her car would remain hidden and secure.
The door to the kitchen was locked. Crap. Riley probably made a big deal of showing Brooke no one could get in without his knowledge. He unlocked it, and as soon as he entered, Riley jumped up from the sofa.
He came close and whistled. “What the hell happened?”
Gavin slid out of his coat and tossed it on the center island. He’d ditch it tomorrow. “It’s a scratch.” He stepped over to the sink and washed his hands. He had to toss his good shirt, too, so he shrugged of it and studied the injury. It didn’t look all that serious.
The door down the hallway opened. He froze. “I don’t want Brooke to see me like this.”
Riley chuckled. “Fat chance of that.”
Before he could even duck in the cold garage, Brooke ambled in all sleepy-eyed. She wore flannel pajamas that outlined her large breasts, and his damned cock hardened. That response wouldn’t do anyone good.
She pushed her glasses up her nose and gasped. “Gavin, what happened?” She rushed to his side.
He was standing at the sink bare-chested. Removing his shirt had made the wound break open. “I got shot.”
“Oh, my God. This is all my fault.”
He was afraid she’d say that. With his good arm, he gathered her to his chest. She willingly stepped into his embrace. “Baby, don’t even think that way.”
She looked up and her chin trembled. “Did you get a good look at him?”
“Yes and no. He wasn’t your killer. This man was African American.”
She stepped back. “Tell me what happened.”
He pressed a towel to the wound to stem the bleeding. “You sound too much like Justin.” He gave her and Riley a brief rundown of the event. “When I shone the light on his face, I thought I’d blinded him. My mistake. He must have seen me coming and had the gun on his lap. If his window had been down when I approached, I might be dead.”
She sucked in a breath.
Riley stepped over to him. “Glad you’re not. I’m heading to bed.”
“Me, too.” He wrapped an arm around Brooke’s waist to escort her back to her room.
He stepped past his room to drop her off at hers when she halted. “I want to bandage that wound. I know guys. You’ll slap a too-small adhesive strip on it and call it a day. You might need stitches.”
He wasn’t sure he could handle her being so near and touching his skin, but her firmed lips implied she wasn’t goi
ng to take no for an answer. “Thanks.” He opened his door.
He hoped she didn’t mind his bed wasn’t made or that his bathroom had his junk all over the place. He’d been meaning to hire a maid service, but opening the business had taken most of his time.
She followed him into the bathroom, and the walls seemed to close in on him. He faced her. “Have at me, nurse.”
“Where are your first aid supplies?”
Good question. He bet Riley had everything organized by bandage size. He squatted to look under the counter and pulled out some iodine, large gauze pads, and adhesive tape. He stood, shoved his crap out of the way, and placed the items on the counter. “This is all I have.”
She smiled. “I’ll make it work.” She looked around for something.
“What do you need?”
“I want to clean your arm. You don’t want to get blood all over your sheets.”
He was about to suggest he shower, but he didn’t want to add any more discomfort to her plate. He found an old washcloth. “I’ll use this.”
He wet the rag and dragged it across his cut. Blood squirted out again, and he pressed the cloth over the cut.
She shook her head. “You have to be gentle.”
“Guys don’t do gentle.”
She ran a hand over an old scar on his side. “Was that from a bullet hole?”
He didn’t need her exploring his body. His cock would misbehave. “Yes. Old war injury.”
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I lived. The enemy did not.”
She glanced away, and he had the urge to explain the rest of his wounds. Maybe later.
Brooke lifted his hand from his recent injury. “Let me do my job.”
He kept his gaze straight ahead and tried to concentrate on anything but her fresh scent. When she leaned close, her breasts pressed against his arm. Did she not have any idea what she did to him? She lifted the cloth and dabbed the material around the wound.
“I’m going to put some iodine on this. It might sting.”
He didn’t hold back a smile. “I’ve felt worse.”
She looked up at him, and her mouth parted then closed. The temptation to try out those full lips nearly did him in. She was a client. As such, he needed to keep his distance.
She patted the wound then cleaned it. After she placed the gauze bandage over his wound, she wrapped it in more tape. “I don’t want it to bleed through.”
“I’ll live, thanks to you.” That got a smile out of her. “Let’s get you back to bed.”
She glanced to the floor. “I’m going to stay in your room until you fall asleep. If your arm starts bleeding, I want to make sure you don’t pass out from the loss.”
The scratch wasn’t severe enough for that to happen. He’d seen horrible injuries in the war, and this was truly a superficial wound. He studied her earnest expression to figure out the real reason for the request.
“I promise I’ll yell if I start to feel weak.” Oh, shit. Now she’d feel rejected, and that was not what he wanted. “On second thought, how about we just talk. If after, say, an hour, my arm’s good, then you don’t have to stick around.” He was pleased with his win-win suggestion.
She drew in her bottom lip. “Okay, but what if the man who shot you comes back?”
Is that what worried her? He’d left his SIG on the kitchen counter. “Tell you what. Let me get my weapon from the kitchen, and we’ll make sure he doesn’t make it past my door.” He had others stashed around the house, but he didn’t want her to think he owned an arsenal.
“Okay. I’ll wait here.”
He smiled and her shoulders seemed to relax. Not wanting to break open her patch job, he walked into the kitchen, grabbed his gun, and returned. Brooke was sitting on his bed, her back straight.
“I’ll place this in the side drawer, but I assure you I’ve set the alarm. He won’t get in without our notice.”
She glanced down, clearly not convinced. Something was eating at her. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“Nothing.”
“Let me put on my pajamas and crawl into bed. We’ll talk about it.”
“Okay.”
He grabbed some dark-blue long underwear and ducked into the bathroom to change. When he pulled them on, he groaned. His cock was hard and neatly outlined. This wasn’t going to work, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her she couldn’t stay.
* * * *
While Gavin was in the bathroom changing, indecision grabbed her. Brooke debated if she should slip out. Most likely he saw through her request. She might claim she wanted to make sure his wound was okay, but in truth, she was damned scared that man would come after her. Gavin could tell her all he wanted that his house was secure, but it would only take a few seconds for a guy to smash the front window and crawl in. Maybe she’d watched too many crimes shows, but criminals cut power all the time. What good would the alarm do them then?
When she’d asked him if she could stay in his room, he’d glanced to the ceiling. She knew men like Gavin Kirkwood wouldn’t even consider making love to a dumpy geek like her, so why was she worried he’d try?
Even if he took pity on her and they did make love, she didn’t need the rejection afterward that was sure to come. Right now her life was screwed up enough. The last thing she needed was to mess with her bodyguard—or bodyguards—as the case may be. She liked both men equally, which would only cause a problem later.
Hell, she’d gone years without finding a man who didn’t shy away from her accomplishments, and yet these men didn’t blink the first time they walked in her store. She relaxed a little as she recalled their first meeting. It didn’t take long before both Gavin and Riley had asked what a nice girl like her was doing owning a store like hers. She’d always desired a man who had high ambitions, and at first these two seemed like ordinary cowboys looking to start a company. Now that she’d gotten to know them better, their intelligence shone through. They worked at their job as hard as she did at hers.
Brooke glanced at the bathroom door and wondered what was taking him so long to slip on his pajama bottoms. Concern swept through her that maybe his wound had reopened. If so, she should insist he go straight to the hospital.
She trotted to the door and placed her ear against the wood, but only heard the sink water running. She knocked. “Are you okay in there?”
“Be right out.” He sounded cheerful.
He probably was fine, but she didn’t want to leave his room.
Be honest. He makes you feel safe not only from that crazy man but from your own critical self.
She’d never been so relaxed around a man, especially someone as sexy and assured as Gavin. Perhaps it was his bullet holes that drew her. Hell, they turned her on, most likely because he wasn’t as perfect as he first appeared. Sure he was all muscle and a macho man, and while nothing seemed to stop him, he had a vulnerable side, too. He genuinely cared about people.
Aw, hell. She didn’t need his protection tonight, as her room was nestled between both men. Nikki turned to leave. Halfway out, the bathroom door opened. She turned around and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them she couldn’t help but zero in on the outline of his cock.
“Where are you going?” He sounded upset. “I thought you wanted to talk until I fell asleep.”
She had said that. “I was just stretching.”
Liar.
He kept his gaze on her as he crawled into bed. Gavin padded the seat next to him. She moved over and sat facing him.
He cupped her hand in his. “Now tell me really why you want to stay. What are you afraid of?”
The man seemed to be able to see right through her. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“I get that, but tell me why.”
If he hadn’t really appeared interested in her answer, she would have excused herself and left. “I guess I’m tired of trying to control everything in my life.”
“I hear ya. I was in char
ge of my unit, and I know how tough that can be.”
Feeling more comfortable, she kicked off her shoes and tucked her legs under her and checked his arm for fresh blood. None showed.
“While no one’s life, other than my own, is being held in the balance, it just seems that I had to work harder than my sister and didn’t get as far.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Seeing that horrible man chase after me made me realize that basically I’m alone.” Oh, God, she sounded pathetic. “Don’t get me wrong. I love what I do.”
He smiled and leaned back against the headboard. “I’m sure you do and you’re damned good at it, too.”
“You have two brothers. Did you ever compete against them?”
He glanced to the ceiling. “All the time. I was the one who wanted to be the best football player, the fastest runner, and the top student.”
His need for excellence spoke to her. “And were you?”
“Yes and no. My oldest brother, Mike, was the valedictorian, but a lousy athlete. He was the one who won all the year-end academic awards. My little brother, Chandler, was a top athlete, but since I was older, I was stronger and could beat him.” His voice faded.
She waited for him to continue, but he stared off, looking lost. “Gavin?” She took a stab at what might be wrong. “What are your brothers doing now?” Had they ended up in jail or something?
He slowly faced her. Pain laced his features and the brightness in his eyes dimmed. “Mike is an oncologist in Baltimore and Chandler died of leukemia a year after high school.” He worked his mouth as if he needed time to stem the pain.
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. It really sucks, baby. It truly does.”
She was bad at asking sensitive questions, but Gavin seemed to want to talk about it. “Do you think his death changed you in any way?” If something good came from his brother’s death, it might help with closure.
Monroe, Melody Snow - Bodyguards of Pleasure [Pleasure, Montana 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 5
