Blind Justice

by Gwen Hernandez

  Evan must have left it behind last time they’d camped. Back in August before the fall semester had started, when Jeff had taken him to Peaceful Valley, about an hour northwest of Boulder.

  Jeff sat down hard on the banquette and stared at the dog as memories overwhelmed him. He and Evan playing on the edge of a rocky creek, cooling their feet in the water. Laughing after they ate s’mores around the campfire at sunset and Evan got chocolate and marshmallow all over his face. Walking through the dark green forest as Evan ran from bug to pine cone to stick, inspecting everything and asking a million questions.

  I’m coming, peanut. I’ll find you.

  Rising, Jeff strode into his bedroom and laid Pickles on his own pillow before grabbing a set of linens from a small cabinet.

  Mentally shutting the door on his grief, he made up the bunk, ignoring the tug of his stitches as he reached for the far corners. The loft was suited to Tara’s size and would be warmer than the main level. Not as warm as if they shared a mattress, but that was off the table. Firmly.

  He’d just finished when Tara emerged from the bathroom, still fully dressed, but with her hair piled on top of her head in a messy knot, her face shiny and devoid of any makeup. His stomach tripped. She was stunning. Maybe it wasn’t the makeup and the clothes that made her so untouchably perfect. Maybe it was all her. The grace in each step, the way she carried herself with her shoulders back and her chin high, her flawless face.

  She glanced at the loft. “I could’ve helped.”

  He shrugged, forcing himself not to stare. “It was easy for me. I can reach all the way to the back.” Holding his arms wide, he showed her that he could almost touch both walls of the camper. “Gorilla arms.”

  She smiled. “Must be nice.”

  “If you want the best apples in the tree, I’m your guy.”

  Her laughter made the dim room sparkle.

  Stop it, dumbass. She’s not for you. He cleared his throat. “You want to borrow some clothes?” Her dress couldn’t be very comfortable to sleep in, and it wouldn’t keep her warm.

  She smiled. “That would be great. Thanks.”

  A few minutes later, she was drowning in his thick sweatpants with the legs rolled into a fat ring at her ankles. The long-sleeved race T-shirt he’d found crammed into a drawer had received similar treatment. She looked like a little girl who’d snuck into her dad’s closet. Except, she was very much a woman. And there was something about knowing that her skin was in such close contact with his clothing that warmed his blood.

  “What do you think?” She twirled with her arms out, a gleam of humor in her eyes. “A perfect fit, no?”

  He grinned. “Definitely perfect.” If he had his way, she’d always look like this. Relaxed, approachable, a little disheveled.

  With the ease of an acrobat, she hoisted herself into the bunk. “Thank you.”

  He nodded. Luckily, he was too tall to join her in there even if she’d asked.

  “For everything,” she said. “I hope I’m not screwing up your weekend plans.”

  “This isn’t your fault.”

  She sat up fully, her shiny hair brushing the ceiling. “It kind of is. I decided to go after Mars. And I roped you into it.”

  Good God. He crossed his arms. “Still not your fault. And you didn’t rope me into anything. If I hadn’t wanted to help, I would’ve said so.”

  “All right.” She held up her hands. “I believe you.”

  “Excellent. Now get some sleep.”

  “You too,” she said, mocking the command in his voice.

  Fat chance of that.

  The trees rustled in the wind, their barren branches restless. Much like Tara. She lay on her side under a mound of blankets, curled up in the cozy, oversized clothes that smelled like Jeff. Or, more likely, his fabric softener. Either way, she couldn’t get enough.

  Through the semi-sheer linen that covered the tiny window at her side, a yellow streetlamp cast shadows into the forest beyond the edge of the campground.

  They were parked close to the Interstate, a stone’s throw from a major shopping center and neighborhoods full of large homes, but it was so much quieter than her condo in Arlington. She missed the din and busyness of the city. Out here her thoughts were too loud, her fears too easily fed, the walls too thin.

  At home, she had eleven floors and solid walls for protection between her and the world outside. Not to mention a gated garage and outer doors that required a key card for entry.

  And yet, the men who were after her had defeated all that with a simple fire alarm, hadn’t they?

  No one knew she was here except Jeff. And he’d managed to protect her so far. Galling as it was that she needed a bodyguard, she couldn’t be more thankful for his presence on the other side of the RV.

  If only he were closer.

  Gahhh. So much for not being interested. With a huff, she rolled over and faced the tiny kitchen and sitting area, which the night had painted in shades of gray. Jeff had left his bedroom door open, and the wan light trickling into his room through cheap curtains outlined his body under the covers.

  If they shared his bed, she’d feel both warm and safe.

  Talk about inviting trouble. He wasn’t the most beautiful man she’d ever met, but he had a rugged magnetism that could easily unravel all of her vows to stay independent. Not that she needed to be celibate forever, but she wanted to choose wisely. She wanted to take her time and get to know a man. To know that he liked her for who she was before getting naked.

  She’d been desperate for love for so long that she’d done herself a disservice. The next time she had sex, she would know the man wanted all of her, not just her body for the night. Sure, there were no guarantees of a lasting relationship, but it would be a start.

  She sighed. Her thirtieth birthday was a month away and she wasn’t even dating anyone. Not that thirty was old, exactly—there were plenty of people her age who were still single—but she wanted marriage, kids, the whole fairy tale, and she wasn’t getting any younger, that was for damn sure. Five more years and a pregnancy would be considered high risk. What if she still hadn’t met someone by then?

  Stop it. That was the kind of thinking that got her into trouble. For now she needed to focus on loving herself, and trust that the right man would appear when she was ready.

  “Everything okay?” Jeff’s voice startled her. He filled the doorway from the bedroom, his hair adorably mussed. The loose cut of his CU shirt did nothing to disguise his muscular chest or flat abs. Track pants hugged his narrow hips and never-ending legs.

  “Sorry.” Had she been sighing too loud? Making the loft creak? Shaking the RV as she tried to find a comfortable position? There was no such thing as comfortable when it was your brain that couldn’t relax. “Did I wake you?”

  “No.” He shuffled into the kitchen, flipping on the light without offering more explanation. Maybe she wasn’t the only one freaked out by the day they’d had. “I think I have some tea bags stashed in here somewhere. Want a cup?”

  “I’d love some.” She sat up, tugging the bedspread around her shoulders. Despite the clothes he’d loaned her, she couldn’t get warm. Her breath was no longer visible, but the RV wasn’t exactly toasty. And yet, Jeff stood barefoot on the linoleum, seemingly oblivious to the cold. “Thanks.”

  He started an electric kettle and leaned against the far wall with his arms crossed, emphasizing the cut of his biceps. “Can’t sleep?”

  “It’s too quiet.”

  A deep, startled laugh escaped him. “You’re such a city girl.”

  “Yes. I am.” Defensiveness straightened her spine. “I like the noise and the crowds. You’re never alone in the city. Out here…” She glanced toward the side window and shivered. “It’s so isolated.”

  He shook his head. “We’re not even in the country. There’s literally a massive shopping center maybe two hundred yards that way,” he said, gesturing to his right.

  “I know, but being nestled
back here in the trees makes it feel like we’re in the middle of nowhere.” She crossed her arms. “Excuse me for not being a good little camper.”

  He approached the bunk, his rich brown eyes level with hers as he hooked his hands on the edge of the platform. “I apologize. I sometimes forget not everyone needs to escape the city as much as I do.”

  Warmth spread from her chest and up her neck. “Have you always been like that?”

  He shifted back, still holding on to the loft, his gaze straying to his hands. “Pretty much. I grew up in Colorado Springs, so the mountains were right there, always waiting. I even enjoyed Afghanistan on occasion.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” He met her gaze again, the muscles of his lean forearms rippling. “When we weren’t being shot at or dodging IEDs.”

  She shuddered. Weren’t they always being shot at and dodging improvised explosive devices? “Why’d you join the Air Force?”

  He hesitated for a beat. “I was sixteen when 9/11 happened. I had some vague sense of patriotism, I guess, and the Air Force has a large presence in Colorado Springs, so I had a lot of friends whose parents were in the service.” He shrugged. “The money for college didn’t hurt either.”

  Finally, something he was willing to share.

  “How’d you end up in Combat Weather?” She cocked her head. Why had she never asked him about this? “In fact, what does that even mean?”

  His grin set her heart fluttering like a flag in the wind. Danger, Tara Fujimoto. This man was all wrong for her. She could probably finagle her way into his bed—and would very likely enjoy her time there—but she’d hate herself, and him, for it later.

  “I was assigned to meteorology out of Basic, but when AFSOC—that’s Air Force Special Operations Command—came recruiting, I signed up. Science, danger, guns. What’s not to like, right?”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “Technically, we’re called Special Operations Weathermen now. Basically, we’re trained to be meteorologists, but we also go through all the commando training like PJs so we can infiltrate ahead of a mission for, say, Delta, or the SEALs, to ensure the weather and environment are good for a mission.”

  Tara had never thought of the weather when it came to special forces missions. “Like to make sure it’s not going to rain?”

  “Well, sand storms were a big problem for visibility in the Middle East theater. And you don’t want to drop guys into a zone in extreme winds, or lead Marine recon troops into a blizzard or flood. All of the seasons can be brutal in the some of those places, so we help determine the timing, the routes, and the method of insertion by forecasting the weather conditions.”

  “Which means you had to go in before the mission team.”

  “Yeah, usually. We’d insert a few days in advance, take measurements, watch for changing conditions. Help the commander make the final call on whether it was safe to go at all. Support them during the mission.”

  She’d never understand how the veterans she knew could be so blasé about their roles in war. “With weapons.”

  His smile was a bit patronizing, but she probably deserved it. “That’s the combat part.”

  The need to reach out and touch him, to reassure herself that he was whole and healthy, overcame her good sense. She lightly caressed his knuckles.

  His gaze locked onto hers, intense, hot.

  She withdrew her hand, gripping the blanket as she cleared her throat and blinked. “Why’d you get out?”

  Jeff dropped his hands and retreated, crossing his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging. “I found out I had a son.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THIS WAS THE danger of spending too much time around a woman like Tara. She watched Jeff with those dark brown eyes, looking almost like a normal person instead of a fantasy, and he was ready to tell her anything she wanted to know.

  “Oh.” She quickly schooled her expression to hide her surprise. And maybe judgment. She’d clearly picked up on the fact that he hadn’t known Bridget was pregnant beforehand. “I had no idea.”

  “I try to keep personal stuff separate from work.”

  “I understand,” she said with a smile, unfolding her legs and letting them dangle into the space between them. She shivered. “Are you willing to tell me anything about him?”

  No one had ever asked him for permission. And to his surprise, he was willing to tell her a few things. First, he grabbed a knitted blanket from the cupboard and handed it to her. “You can use this to cover up if you’re still cold.” For his own sanity as much as her warmth.

  “Thanks.” She draped the afghan over her lap and tucked it under her hips.

  “His name’s Evan,” Jeff said now that there was another layer between them and he could breathe again. “He’s four.”

  “Oh.” She pressed her hands together. “Kids are so cute at that age. Does he live close?”

  “No, he’s in North Carolina with his mom.”

  She pursed her lips. “It must be hard having him so far away.”

  Especially when Jeff had no idea where Bridget and Evan were right now. “Yeah. I wish it were easier to see him. I’m not sure he’ll recognize me next time.”

  Early on, he’d chased every lead, shown up every time there was even the whiff of a chance Evan was nearby. He’d quickly realized he wouldn’t be able to pay his PI Olivia to keep up the search if he blew all his money following her team around.

  “I’m sorry.”

  The kettle beeped, signaling that the water was ready. Thank you, Jesus. He turned to the cabinet, very much needing to look away from Tara before he did something they’d both regret. Like wrap his arms around her slim body and kiss her senseless.

  God, what was wrong with him? “Green tea or chamomile?”

  “Chamomile,” she said, making her way down from the loft trailing the blanket. “Maybe it’ll help me calm down enough to sleep.”

  He put a tea bag in each mug, poured the water over them, and handed her one. “Good luck.”

  “I’ll need it.” She wrapped her elegant fingers around the cup and curled onto the sofa with all her covers.

  “You want my jacket?”

  She smiled. “No, thanks.” Rearranging the afghan around herself, she said, “I’ll be fine.”

  “Sorry. This thing is old.” He gestured to the walls.

  “No, it’s great. This was a good idea.”

  “Except you can’t sleep.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “Pretty sure that makes two of us.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Besides, I don’t think I’d be able to sleep no matter where we were,” she admitted. “My brain keeps going in circles trying to make sense of what’s happening.”

  Multiple attempts on one’s life could have that effect. “You’re handling it all remarkably well, I think.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” She took a sip of her tea and closed her eyes. “Mmm. I needed this.”

  If he were smart, he’d go back to bed, but all he’d accomplished for the last hour was to tangle the sheets and wrinkle his shirt. His sense of self-preservation was apparently broken, because instead of sitting at the dining table, he settled next to her on the couch.

  She turned partly toward him and nestled into the corner. “Do you have a picture of Evan?”

  “Sure.” It wasn’t her fault she didn’t know what a sore subject his son was. And in fact, it was nice to be able to talk about Evan for a change. The boy was on his mind, but Olivia and his dad were the only people who knew what was going on. Jeff dug out his phone and found the most recent photo. “This is almost five months old.” The last time he’d seen him.

  Pushing aside the unwelcome reminder, he handed Tara the phone.

  Her face lit up. “He’s adorable.”

  “He takes after his mom.”

  “That explains it.”

  Jeff chuckled in spite of himself.

  She looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye
s and…he wanted. Oh, how he wanted.

  The phone buzzed and a text message appeared from Olivia.

  You up?

  Tara handed him the phone, the question clear in her eyes. She probably thought it was a booty call. Why else would a woman contact him at two in the morning?

  “Give me a minute,” he said.

  “Sure thing.” She sipped her tea and stared toward the small window over the sink.

  Jeff let Olivia know he was awake. Her response came quickly.

  We need to talk.

  He glanced at Tara. What did it matter if she knew what was going on? He wasn’t going to make his call outside and wake the whole damn camp. And he was tired of keeping it all inside.

  “This is my PI,” he said, standing. “I need to make a call.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Oh. Okay.”

  He dialed as he moved into the bedroom. It wouldn’t really give him much privacy, but he wouldn’t have to face Tara as he talked.

  Olivia answered on the first ring. “I found Bridget, but it’s not good news.”

  Tara didn’t want to be relieved that this Olivia woman wasn’t looking for a late-night hookup, but she couldn’t help it. The way Jeff had lit up when talking about his son had stirred something in her. And made her want to soothe his pain at living so far away from Evan.

  Because, yeah, that’s what she needed. To get involved with a guy with all kinds of baggage and a kid to boot.

  Thank God she and Colin hadn’t had a child together. The idea of having to deal with custody issues with a man she never wanted to see again made her shudder. Maybe Jeff’s relationship with his ex wasn’t so contentious, but it didn’t sound great. What kind of woman gets pregnant and doesn’t tell the father until after the baby’s born?

  Maybe the kind who wasn’t sure if he actually was the father?

  Hush, brain.

  But then why did he need a private investigator?

  Tara wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but the RV was small and Jeff’s voice carried easily in the small, quiet space.

  “Oh, fuck,” he said. “What about Evan?”