“Other way around. Other way around.” He wrapped his arms around her and snuggled her close, just needing the human connection for a little while.
He was damned glad he wasn’t having to bury a young man he cared about. Carl had lost far too many friends along the way. But whoever was gunning for Turner was going to get their just desserts in the end. Carl was going to find them. He had never failed at something he’d put his mind to. He wasn’t about to start now.
98
Turner watched the way Annie studied the family ranch and wondered how he was going to make this up to her. She hadn’t wanted to come with him; it had taken both Izzie and Izzie’s uncle to convince her that she didn’t want to go back to her ranch out in the middle of the countryside alone tonight.
Not that anyone suspected she was the target. After Turner and Jake had explained what was going on—as much as they possibly could considering it was an ongoing police matter—she had finally agreed.
But she’d said it was because Turner needed someone with medical skills to keep an eye on him. Turner suspected that was just an excuse.
It was just a graze. Allen had made that clear.
Now she quietly walked next to him, dressed in bloodied jeans and an old FCU T-shirt of Allen Jacobson’s. It dwarfed her. Not exactly how he’d expected the evening to end up.
His eyes landed on a painting hanging on one wall. His aunt, Houghton’s mother. She’d been killed when Turner had been very young. Murdered. They’d never caught the killer.
The pain his uncle had gone through had been the greatest sadness his family had ever faced in Turner’s lifetime. She had been his mother’s best friend. He could still feel her loving arms holding him whenever he’d spend the night with his older cousin Houghton. She hadn’t deserved what had happened.
Any more than Annie had deserved what had happened to her tonight.
“Sweetheart…”
Blue eyes turned to him. “I’m not your sweetheart, Turner.”
Not yet. But that was something he wanted. He’d fallen a bit more for her tonight. Maybe into far more than lust, if he was honest. Annabelle Jane Gaines fascinated him from the top of her honey-streaked brown hair to the soles of her little white shoes.
“I want you to be my sweetheart,” Turner said quietly. More seriously than he ever had before.
“Why?” Calm even control. That was what she vibrated. “What is so special about me that you’ve done all of this?”
“You…” He admired her honesty, her directness, but giving that in return was harder than he would ever have expected it to be. He’d had serious discussions with women before—he was thirty-four years old and hadn’t lived like a damned monk. But none had felt quite like this. “I…damn it, Annie. It was that day. In the storm.”
“What do you mean?” She wasn’t just asking what was on the surface. Annie was wanting to peer into his very soul.
“You were so…strong. Steady. You didn’t panic. And the way you looked at me…I can’t forget you. I can’t. I don’t want to. I’m sorry about tonight. I’ve gotten a few threats, but we didn’t think anything would eventualize. Elliot had men on the trail of the ones responsible. We must have been wrong about who was responsible. I’m sorry. Ann—”
His free hand—Allen had insisted he wear a sling for a few days, and had still had the one from where he’d been shot by Wallace Henedy—brushed down her soft cheek. He just wanted to touch her. “I will never let anything happen to you, little one. I won’t.”
99
Little one. She’d heard his cousin Houghton call Mel that so many times. Mel had blushed one day when Nikkie Jean had teased her about it. There had been so much love in Houghton’s voice when he’d called Mel that. It was a private nickname between the two lovers that had so much meaning behind it. Beautiful.
And now Turner was calling her that. Annie shivered, feeling like a fool. Two words. They were just two words. But she heard the meaning behind them.
Turner was looking at her with an odd look on his face. He looked so…strong. Determined.
Like a hunter of some sort. Nikkie Jean liked to call her fiancé a dragon, and his twin a tiger. Said they were the kind of men who would hunt and pounce and the poor prey wouldn’t see them coming.
Nikkie Jean had said bluntly that she’d felt like that prey before. So had Jillian.
And then they’d both giggled and said they’d greatly enjoyed being caught.
That it had been worth it. Annie could halfway understand that.
Turner was as sleek as a panther, and just as deadly. When he wanted something, she had no doubt he’d eventually get it. He would be just that relentless.
She was what he wanted now. Annie tried to hide the little shiver that went through her at that idea.
She was a woman who wanted, craved, a simple life—with her three children. She doubted Turner Barratt was looking for the same. Turner stepped even closer, his hand slipping from her hair to wrap lightly around her neck.
Annie looked up at him. He had almost a foot in height over her. His arms were strong and broad and perfect. She’d always liked a man’s arms. Strong and dependable.
Turner’s arms could hold the entire world at bay.
Annie’s breath came out in a quiet sigh.
Maybe it had happened during the storm for her, too. He’d been so…calm and steady. Had made everything seem like it was going to be ok. Because he would make it that way. The same way he had when Izzie had been hurt.
She’d depended on him, trusted him to do just that.
When she’d woken in the hospital and saw him next to her bed, she’d known she was going to be ok. That he was going to see to it.
Annie had never fully trusted a man in her life—with the notable exception of Jake McNamara.
Jake, who had suggested she not go home tonight, either. Who had seemed to approve of her going with Turner.
Turner’s uninjured arm slipped around her waist. He pulled her closer. Annie stupidly cuddled closer. The shirt he’d borrowed from Allen was just a tad too tight through the shoulders and chest. He was just a bit larger than life tonight. It was like nothing could keep this man from what he wanted.
A bullet had ripped across his flesh, and yet there he stood, holding her.
Annie just breathed him in for a moment.
His scent was so familiar. For some reason, a part of her was going to be entwined in Turner Barratt forever.
“What are you doing?”
“What I wanted to do out there in your front yard tonight. I wanted to touch your cheek.” His fingers put actions to his words, brushing across her left cheek. One flirted with the corner of her mouth. Heat shot through her.
Fire burned in his eyes. “Annie…”
She didn’t step away. Annie knew that she had the choice to just step away. Instead, she stretched up against him like a cat. She whispered his name, but no sound came out.
What was she doing? She wasn’t crazy. She was a calm, stable, steady woman who had three children dependent on her. She wasn’t the kind of woman who kissed the mayor after he’d been shot, practically in her arms.
She wasn’t. That was Jillian, or Lacy, or even Nikkie Jean. Not Annie.
Annie had never done anything this crazy in her entire life. Turner’s head lowered; his mouth pressed to hers.
He was nothing like the men she’d kissed before. Despite what Izzie liked to say about her being a prude, Annie wasn’t a virgin. She’d had two relationships in her life, the first when she was nineteen. The second a few years later. Nothing lasting had come from those relationships.
The second one had ended within days of her moving back in with her mother to take on caring for three children and a teenager. Kissing Devonte had been no more than kissing a boy. Kissing Turner Barratt was far different.
Fire. There was fire, from the moment Turner’s lips opened over her.
Annie’s fingers slipped between them, and she gripped t
he faded green cotton of Allen Jacobson’s old shirt. She fought the urge to pull Turner closer. She didn’t know how to kiss him the way her heart was telling her to.
Annie wouldn’t admit how much she wanted to grab him and just pull him closer. She wasn’t impulsive with men like that. She never had been, and she never would be. Especially men like Turner A. Barratt. He was just…too much. He’d burn her completely and leave her as nothing more than ashes. It was best to just walk away from him now. Go back to being Mommy and Nurse Annie as quickly as she could.
But that was the coward’s way. Annie was tired of hiding from what life had to offer.
She looked into his darker blue eyes. Her hands were still tight on his shoulders.
He took a small step toward her, arms tightening around her.
Right there in the lobby of the ranch that had been in his family for a least one hundred years. The backdrop of the room framed him perfectly. Showed her exactly the kind of man he was. He was a man straight out of a romance novel just like the ones Izzie pretended she wasn’t trying to write in her spare, spare time. After tonight, Annie had plenty of material for her best friend. “Because that’s all it can be.”
“Why? I know we’ve not known each other long, but I know what my head is telling me.”
“It’s not your head. It’s another part of your body. It’s lust. We both know that we’re attracted to each other.” Annie needed to step back. Slow down. Take time to think, before she made one of the biggest, riskiest decisions of her life. “I need to call Nikkie Jean. Check on the boys…”
He smiled, a wicked, hunting expression. Oh yeah. A stalking panther described him perfectly in that very moment. “After…”
Annie’s arms went around him, and she thought, To hell with it. It was time she walked through the fire. She leaned forward, her arms going around him. “After…”
Annie pressed her lips to his as his uninjured arm swept around her.
They could have died tonight. It was time she started living.
100
Dennis Lee stared at Jenny, horror making him silent for once. “You’ve been sleeping with that dried-up old stick for fifteen years.”
“Well, yes. Actually, it has been fourteen years. I…shortly after I moved to Finley Creek from Pennsylvania. Carl and I…we met in that first real estate class we took. And he was kind to me. Made me feel worthy of a man’s attention.” Jenny’s shirt was still buttoned wrong. Her lips were swollen and red, and not from the lipstick she favored.
She’d been in Carl’s bed.
He’d seen her kiss that dried-up old stick. And it had been a kiss of passion.
Right there in her condo’s front entryway. Carl Buchanan. Dennis Lee had parked and stormed up to her door, demanding answers.
Jenny—his Jenny—had been unfaithful to him. Dennis Lee honestly didn’t know what to think. “Don’t I mean anything to you?”
He loved this woman. More than he probably had any other. Maybe he hadn’t exactly been too faithful to her himself—he was a man with his own set of limitations, after all—but he’d thought she’d been faithful.
That she hadn’t been, that she had been with Carl Buchanan first—that was a blow that had him reeling.
And unsure what he was supposed to do next.
No woman had ever cheated on him before. That she had done so with Carl was just an even harsher blow.
If Dennis Lee had a nemesis, it was Carl.
“I…I need to go, Jenny. I…just don’t know what to think.” Dennis Lee shot her a look, seeing her with open eyes for the first time.
“Denny, don’t be like this. You know I…love you. I just love Carl, too. What is so wrong in that?”
“Simple. A woman can’t love Carl and me at the same time. It just isn’t possible.”
Dennis Lee turned and walked away before he lashed out at her and hurt her. Like he had his first wife so many years ago.
That was one of his few mistakes, and one he’d vowed never to make again.
Dennis Lee didn’t know what else to do; he headed back to his office. And planned.
101
Jake and Officer Eugent were the ones who found the shooter, while Turner was snuggled up to Annie. The call came from Jake around nine that morning, asking Turner to head downtown to the chief’s temporary office. They’d identify the SUV then. But Eugent was pretty certain the man he’d arrested was the one who’d shot at them.
Turner thought it seemed a bit convenient. And he told Elliot that. The chief agreed. “But, hell, Turner, my hands are tied until I find something else. Jake was with Collin when the man actually confessed.”
“How?”
“Eugent made a traffic stop. The man was already wanted for priors. In exchange for favors, he admitted he knew something about who shot the mayor. Gave up his own brother in exchange for less time.”
“That just seems far too coincidental. Too easy.” Turner shot Elliot a look. “And I’m not willing to take chances on this. Annie could have been killed.”
“I know. I wouldn’t be too willing to accept the easy answer if it had been me and Gabby out there.” Elliot smoothed the files across his desk. “Here’s the deal…there’s someone in my department feeding information to various lowlifes and thugs. We have determined that. And Delancey confirmed it. But we can’t identify who yet. All signs are pointing to Jeremy Wilsox. He was an officer with our department we lost in the storm. His remains have yet to be found. He and Delancey were close. She swears he was innocent. I believe her, but evidence says otherwise.”
“So what does that have to do with the shooting?”
“It’s possible someone forced this man to confess. I still have Daniel and his people trying to connect the dots. But watch yourself out there.”
“I will. Do I need to worry about Annie? Honestly?”
“After what happened with me and Gabby, I will never tell you not to watch the woman you love closely. Losing her is just not worth the risk.”
“She’s got court today.” Her caseworker had called just as Turner was stepping out of the shower. The judge’s docket had been suddenly changed because of a family funeral to take place in Oklahoma in three days. Her adoption hearing had been moved to 1:45. Three days earlier than she’d expected.
It was the first time he’d ever seen Annie panic.
He had calmed her down just fine.
Turner had wanted to be there. But he had a meeting with the city council that probably wouldn’t end until two.
“Finalizing?”
“Yes.” She’d been a nervous wreck when she’d opened her eyes that morning and saw him next to her. Heat had hit her cheeks, and her blue eyes had been so shy. He’d had to love the shyness away.
Before Elliot’s office had called, they’d been cuddled around each other. He’d made her a promise to see that everything was ok. He intended to keep that. He was going to be her oasis from the world whenever she needed him.
“Then give her my congratulations.”
“I’ll do that.”
And if he was lucky, he’d be at the courthouse to support her and the boys. He was just going to have to find a way to make it happen.
102
Annie had always hated court dates. The boys hadn’t had many—no one was fighting their placement with Annie, and the social worker was fully on board with them staying right where they were—but there had been several in Josie’s case. Her sister had had a slight rebellious phase right after Annie had moved out, that had abated after Annie had moved back in less than a year later. Annie had understood it, even if Josie hadn’t spoken up and said she didn’t want to stay with Annie’s mother. Fear of the unknown was far worse than the fear of the known.
But all that was behind them now. Josie was on her way to a good life, thanks to scholarships and aid available. She would be ok. And in the meantime, her sister was gathering the diaper bag and scooping Seeley into her arms.
Annie’s tightened a
round Syrus. He’d just fallen asleep, and she wasn’t about to interrupt his nap for anything. Even if he was asleep through the whole thing. He’d missed her last night. Just as she’d missed the boys.
But she wouldn’t trade the night she’d spent in Turner’s arms for anything, either.
Never had a man loved her like that. Like she was his entire world, and him hers. Like she belonged right there next to him. And the way he’d held her that morning…she would always remember that moment pressed close to his heart.
She stood and looked at the boys she had loved from the moment she had first seen them. Hers. They were about to be hers.
This was real. It was finally happening.
She bit back the sob of relief.
It wasn’t over yet. Once it was, once they were really hers…
“Hold on! Wait for us!” a voice called behind her. Annie turned.
And there they were. Her family. Everyone she loved was right there. Caine and Nikkie Jean led the way. Izzie was right behind them, talking to three other women. Lacy, Jillian, and Cherise. Her real family. The people who loved her and the boys and Josie.
Annie fought the tears.
Cherise reached her first. She hugged Annie around the sleeping toddler. “Wanda’s parking the van. She and I are claiming grandmother positions, if you’ll let us.”
“I—” She didn’t know what to say. They’d helped her when she needed it, been there as babysitters and sounding boards for a twenty-two-year-old girl responsible for three little babies and would just listen when she needed to talk. Cherise and Wanda had each been the mother she had always wanted and needed. She’d just gotten lucky enough to get two just when it mattered most. “I’d like that very much.”
Jillian and Lacy each had balloons. Jillian lifted Solomon and hugged him. “Rafe wanted to be here, but he had a meeting with the board he couldn’t escape. We’re claiming aunt and uncle, along with the rest of this crowd.”
Walk Through the Fire Page 27
