Shoot Out (The Baltimore Banners Book 7)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  Mat dropped the load in his arms then bent over and opened the duffel, pulling the blankets out. He unfolded the first one and shook it out, mumbling when it flew back in his face. Laughter floated to his ears, the sound light and musical and over too quickly.

  “Here, let me.” Nicole tugged the blanket from his hands and spread it out with one efficient toss. She leaned over to straighten a corner. Mat’s eyes automatically drifted down, taking in the firm curve of her shapely bottom and tanned length of her toned legs. The hem of her gauzy black skirt drifted up, dangerously high against the back of her thighs, and he nearly groaned.

  Then he looked away, his face heating at the thought of being caught staring. That was the last thing he wanted, because he didn’t want Nicole to think he was ogling her. Okay, so he was ogling her. How could he not, with the way she looked?

  It wasn’t just the black gauzy skirt that drifted high on her thighs and swung and bounced just a little when she walked. Or the high-cut fitted jacket she wore over the snug patterned shirt. The shirt was cut just low enough to give him an enticing peak at the swell of her breasts, at the crystal pendant hanging just above the expanse of her cleavage.

  And it wasn’t even the matching warrior sandals, although he really, really liked those. It was all of her. The entire package, from her clothes to the careless way she pinned her hair back, those colorful pink streaks peeking out. Even her oversized sunglasses, which actually annoyed him because they hid her eyes and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

  It was so much more than the way she looked and he didn’t quite understand it. All he knew was that she had somehow gotten under his skin, beginning with that night in New Orleans. He wanted to get to know her better. He wanted to get to know her, period.

  So no, he couldn’t get caught ogling, no matter how much he enjoyed watching her.

  “You should laugh more often.”

  Nicole whipped her head around, her mouth slightly opened in surprise. And damn, why did he have to go and put his foot in his mouth again? He’d meant it as a compliment but it probably came out the wrong way, if the expression on her face meant anything. He shrugged and gave her a small grin, hoping that would help. “I just meant you have a pretty laugh. That was all.”

  “Oh. Uh, thanks.” But she turned away, like she wasn’t sure what else to say. Or maybe the compliment just made her uncomfortable. And when would he learn to just keep his mouth shut?

  Mat leaned over and pulled the second blanket out, wondering if he’d make an ass of himself again trying to spread this one out.

  “We need two blankets?”

  “Yeah. One for us, and one for Derek and Bridget. In case they don’t think to bring one.” He shook the blanket out and managed to spread it on the ground. Well, mostly. Nicole reached out with her foot and straightened the edge.

  “I didn’t know anyone else was joining us.”

  And shit. Had he screwed up again? Mat couldn’t quite meet her eyes when he nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I should have told you. Is that okay? I could call Derek and—”

  “No, that’s fine.”

  But she didn’t look like it was fine. Yeah, he screwed up again. Mat glanced at his watch, wondering if it would be too late to call Derek, to tell him not to show up. He reached for his phone, pulling it from the back pocket of his shorts. Nicole stepped closer and placed her hand on his arm, stopping him.

  “Really, it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded and gave him a smile, but it didn’t look like a real one, like the ones that had lit her face the last two times they had been together. Mat hesitated then jammed the phone back into his pocket, suddenly at a loss and wondering what he should do.

  He moved over to the blanket and lowered himself onto it, stretching out and leaning back on his hands. He tilted his head, motioning for Nicole to join him. She didn’t hesitate, which he took as a good sign. But she also didn’t stretch out next to him, like he’d been hoping. There was too much space between them, space he wished wasn’t there. He inched over the tiniest bit, watching as she pulled a camera from her bag. Not a small handheld one, not one of those cheaper digital models. This one looked like a professional camera, with a zoom lens and everything. At least, as far as he could tell.

  “Taking pictures later?”

  Nicole looked up from doing something to the settings and nodded, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “Yeah. I told Mia I’d bring her in pictures of the fireworks so she could see them.”

  “Cool. Is Mia your sister or something?”

  A shadow passed across his face, there and gone as she shook her head. “Nope. I’m an only child. Mia is one of the kids at the hospital. I couldn’t bring her pictures in today because I was coming here so to make up for it, I told her I’d bring in some of the fireworks, too.”

  Mat shifted on the blanket, trying to swallow back the guilt building in his gut. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had something else you were supposed to do. You could have told me—”

  Nicole leaned forward, placing her hand against his arm again. “No, I didn’t mean it that way. Honest.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. Really. Mia’s just a little spitfire and not very patient. Here, I’ll show you.” She scooted closer to him, her leg brushing his as she brought the camera up between them so he could see the view screen. Mat tilted his head to get a better look without the glare and almost hit Nicole on the cheek. Heat filled his face and he turned his head to apologize, but she just shook her head and laughed. The sound was soft, only audible because he was so close. He froze, watching her, wondering if she knew what just her laugh was doing to him.

  But she wasn’t even looking at him. Her eyes were focused on the small screen as she hit the button to scroll through the pictures. Mat wanted to lean forward, wanted to graze her cheek with his lips, with the lightest of kisses—

  “Here she is.”

  He bit back his groan and moved his gaze to the small viewing screen. The pictures were of a young girl, maybe nine or ten years old, frozen for a split-second in time. A large smile lit her thin pale face and shone in her eyes. A feather boa floated around her face, the bright pink even brighter against the dark purple of the scarf tied around her head. One picture caught her mid-air, the boa drifting down around her as she flung her arms out to the side. Mat could see the smile in her eyes, could almost hear the laughter as she hung there, weightless, her small frame hovering above the harsh metal frame of a hospital bed. The pictures shouldn’t be anything more than candid shots, but they were. So much more. He wasn’t sure how she did it but Nicole had captured the life, the inner essence, of the young girl. No, they were definitely more than just candid shots.

  His chest tightened, became heavy as Nicole flipped through the pictures one by one. He blinked, blinked again as his throat thickened with unnamed emotion. “You—” He cleared his throat and tried again. “These are really good. I can almost hear her laughing.”

  Nicole shrugged then turned the camera off and placed it beside her. “They’re okay. They’ll look better once I enhance them, do some photo shopping. Different backgrounds, things like that.”

  Why would she want to change them? As far as Mat could tell, they were perfect. The way she framed the little girl, the way she captured that inner spark and flash of determination inside her. “But they’re good now, just the way they are. Really. I mean, I don’t know anything about photography but they’re really good.”

  Nicole turned to him, her mouth parted in surprise. Her face softened and before he realized what she was going to do, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. The kiss was soft, tender—and she pulled away before he could even think about reacting. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  “Oh. Yeah, no problem.” He shifted on the blanket and cleared his throat, feeling like an eager teenager. “I meant it, though. Really.”

  The cor
ners of her mouth tilted up as she watched him. “I believe you. But Mia wants to be a princess, so I’m going to make her a princess.”

  “That’s what you do? I mean, besides taking the pictures.”

  “Yeah. It’s not much, but it makes the kids happy. And it’s something I enjoy doing so…” Her voice drifted off and she shrugged, like what she was doing was no big deal.

  “So you’re going to make Mia a princess and give her fireworks at the same time. That’s pretty cool.”

  Nicole laughed and ducked her head. Was it his imagination, or was the lightest blush fanning across her cheeks? She looked over at him and he felt her eyes on him. A few seconds went by then she reached up and pushed her sunglasses up, anchoring them in her hair. Light sparkled in her eyes, something more than just the reflection of the sun.

  “She also wanted pictures of you but I told her no.”

  “Me?” Mat sat back, surprised. “Why would she want pictures of me?”

  Nicole looked away. And this time, there was no doubt she was blushing. “Oh. Uh, nothing. It was silly. She, uh, just thought you were my boyfriend and wanted pictures. I, uh, I told her you weren’t—”

  “I could be.” And Christ, now he sounded like he was fucking twelve years old. He looked away, cringing at the words, and ran a hand over his heated face. Was there no end to the sheer stupidity that would fall from his mouth?

  It didn’t help that Nicole wasn’t saying anything. Yeah, she probably thought he was a moron. Should he apologize? It would probably be better if he just pretended he never said it. Even better if he changed the subject.

  “You can take it if you want.”

  “What?”

  Mat glanced over at Nicole then looked back at his hands, studying them, wondering what to do with them. Wondering if he should just shut the hell up again. “My picture. You can take it if you want, I don’t mind.”

  “Oh. That…” Her voice drifted off again, like she wasn’t sure what to say. Of course she wasn’t. Hell, even he didn’t know what to say, not anymore.

  “Maybe you could make me a prince, since Mia’s the princess.” And maybe, just once, he’d learn to keep his big mouth shut. For not knowing what to say, his mouth was certainly having a field day with the verbal diarrhea. He shook his head, thinking he should apologize—again—when Nicole shook her head, her brows lowering in a frown.

  “No. A dragon is much better than a prince.”

  Mat thought about sticking his finger in his ear and cleaning it out, knowing there was no way he could have heard her right. A dragon? But now it was Nicole who was looking away, her face turning a cute shade of pink. “A dragon?”

  “Uh, yeah.” She bit down on her lower lip then faced him, still frowning. Her expression finally cleared and a small smile teased her mouth. “Sorry. It’s your eyes. A dragon was the first thing that came to mind when I first saw you. I mean, your eyes. They’re such a gorgeous shade of deep green.”

  She’d said something very similar to him, back in New Orleans. In fact, those were the first words she had said to him. Did she remember? Maybe, if the look in her eyes meant anything.

  “A dragon, hm? Don’t they usually get killed by the knights or princes or whatever?”

  “Oh, only the bad ones. You’re a good dragon.” Nicole’s eyes widened and she lowered her head, bringing both hands up to cover her face. “Oh my God, I did not just say that.”

  Mat laughed. A real one this time, one that lifted some of the doubt and tension he’d been feeling. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who does that.”

  Nicole lowered her hands, just enough so she was peaking at him through her fingers. Her amber eyes glowed in the sun, warming him from the inside out. “Does what?”

  “Say things that don’t always come out the right way.”

  “Oh.” She lowered her hands to her lap, her left one brushing the skin of his thigh. “No, I guess not. Um, for what it’s worth, that was a good thing.”

  “What was?”

  “The, uh, good dragon part. Good dragons are better than superheroes.” She ducked her head, no longer watching him. Mat smiled then leaned forward, capturing her chin with his hand to tilt her head back. Her eyes flared then darkened, filling with awareness as he lowered his mouth to hers. He caught her small gasp, felt her lean toward him as he swept his tongue inside. God, she tasted so sweet. Sweet and spicy, like hot cinnamon mixed with honey. He could get drunk on her kisses.

  She leaned even closer and wrapped one hand around his neck, her touch warm, her body soft. Mat deepened the kiss, losing himself in her taste, her touch. He shifted, just the tiniest bit, to get even closer. He brought his hand up, dragging it along her arm, thinking to pull her even closer, maybe shift to the side and pull her down on top of him. But she flinched and pulled away, a hiss of pain escaping her. Mat sat back, his brows lowered in concern.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—did I hurt you?” He wasn’t sure how he could have but maybe he grabbed her too hard without meaning to, without realizing it. Maybe he—

  “No. No, I’m fine. It wasn’t you.” But she wouldn’t look at him as she rubbed the side of her arm where he’d grabbed her.

  “Nicole, are you sure? Let me look—”

  “No, I’m fine. Really.” She slid away, putting some distance between them. Mat frowned, not sure if he should push the issue or not.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “Really, it wasn’t you. I, uh, I just hurt my arm. At work. That’s all.” But she was looking away from him, not meeting his eyes, and he wondered if she was telling the truth—wondered why she would lie.

  He shifted, leaning a little closer, and placed his hand on her shoulder. If he could get her to look at him, if he could see her eyes, maybe he’d be able to tell what was going on. “Nicole—”

  She stiffened, her body language speaking volumes. And maybe he wasn’t that great at talking, at saying the right things, but he could certainly hear—both what she was saying, and what she wasn’t. He dropped his hand and inched away, just enough so he wasn’t encroaching on her personal space.

  “So I take it you have a thing for dragons?” She turned her head, her eyes widening in surprise. He motioned toward her left arm. “Your tattoos. The dragons and fairies and everything. The one on your, uh, thigh, has dragons and a castle. I just figured you might have a thing for dragons.”

  Her hand came up and closed around the pendant hanging from her neck. Another dragon, this one wrapped around a milky-colored piece of glass. She must have noticed him watching because she let go of the pendant and folded her hand in her lap.

  “Yeah, I guess.” She smiled and laughed a little. “Okay, I do. Ever since I was a kid. I don’t even remember how it started. I’ve just always liked them.”

  “Even if they’re supposed to be bad?” He meant it as a joke, as a reference to her earlier comment. But a shadow crossed in front of her eyes, her expression turning sad for just a fleeting second as she looked away. And he felt it, a blast of despair that made him want to fold her in his arms and hold her, protect her, chase away the bad things until the sadness left her.

  “No, it’s not the dragons who are bad.” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and Mat somehow knew that she was lost in a memory or hope or dream. She shook herself and whatever had been there, whatever it was he thought he’d seen and felt, floated away on the small breeze that lifted the hair from her neck. She looked back at him, her eyes clear now, and laughed. “Dragons are just misunderstood, that’s all.”

  “Misunderstood, huh?”

  “Absolutely.” She laughed again then shifted, moving closer. Mat hesitated then wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her against him. Then he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, soft and gentle, coaxing, afraid of pushing. She sighed, opening her mouth under his, her hand coming up to rest in the center of his chest, just above his heart.

  Could she feel it? The steady pounding, be
ating faster with each passing second. Did she know that it was because of her? That she had the power to do this to him? To make him want, need, burn—

  “Is this the best spot you could grab?”

  Mat jumped back as something heavy landed beside him. He looked up, squinting as two shadows moved in front of him, finally coming into focus.

  Leave it to Derek to interrupt at the worst possible time.

  He pushed to his feet and leaned forward, pulling Bridget into a quick hug. Then he turned and frowned at Derek. “I thought you guys were coming later.”

  “We changed our minds.” He pushed his sunglasses up to his forehead and glanced over Mat’s shoulder, squinting. “Hey. Nicole, right? Nice seeing you again.”

  Mat was going to kill him. Did Derek have to be so forward and abrupt? Did he have to say ‘again’? Mat wanted to believe it hadn’t been a deliberate reminder of New Orleans but knowing Derek, anything was possible. He glanced over at Nicole, worrying that she might take it the wrong way, or take Derek the wrong way. Or both. She was looking up at them, a small smile on her face. Mat couldn’t see her eyes because she had pulled her sunglasses back down but he got the feeling that the smile was forced. And he wondered if Nicole would relax again for the rest of the night or if those few moments were gone for good.

  Yeah, he was really going to kill Derek.

  Chapter Twelve

  Magical.

  That was the one word that kept going through Nicole’s mind as she felt herself falling, spiraling. Down and down in a dizzying whirlwind that left her heart racing, that left her breathless.

  Mat was magical. His whispered words. His soft touch. His kisses, sometimes gentle, sometimes demanding, always seeking, searching, reassuring.

  How could she have been so wrong? Mat wasn’t a dragon. He was a wizard. A sorcerer. Weaving his magic until she fell completely under his spell.