TRIGGERED: A Romantic Suspense Bundle (5 Books)

by Evie Nichole

  “Fine.”

  Derek seemed way too pleased with himself as Harbour pulled the truck back onto the road.

  Chapter Eleven

  He hadn’t planned on the truck they used to hurl the bedding from the houses to the storage area being around the size of Harbour’s own truck. Which meant that, not only did they have to bring everything out of four two-story buildings, but that they had to do about seven runs to move all the stuff over. But the hardest part was not tracking mud into the houses each time they went back in.

  Soaked to the bone and feeling muscles he didn’t even know he had, Derek wiped the sweat off of his forehead and leaned against a deconstructed bedpost. He watched Harbour as she shoved the items deeper into the storage locker. She had begun the process moving everything with careful consideration. Then, about an hour or so back, she had evidently decided that she had lost all ability to care.

  Everything was going to be scratched to hell and impossible to find, but Derek couldn’t hold it against her. Originally, he had thought there would be at least one or two workers here to help. But it had just been the two of them. He hadn’t minded. In fact, he preferred it.

  Struggling with washer and dryer units, squeezing under beds to undo the bolts that kept them together, and half-falling down staircases with chests of drawers had been oddly fun. Although, the best part was when Harbour hit her ‘I give up’ mode and they just started tossing the mattresses down the stairs. It was impossible to get around them gracefully and all attempts had left her cackling like a child. Eventually, she had settled for scrambling onto the handrail and let him pick her up from there.

  “And we’re done.” She gave a final kick to a box of pots and checked her watch. “And we’re going to get home before eight. Life is good.”

  Derek frowned and checked his own watch. How was it that late already? No wonder he was starving and sore. Harbour pushed him back into the rain so she could pull the roller door down. Or at least tried to. She was too short to reach the handle.

  After watching her struggle for a few amusing minutes, he stepped closer and grabbed the handle. As she twisted to look up at him, blinking past the rain that poured over her face, he expected for her to make some kind of remark. Instead, she just thumped her knuckles against his shoulder.

  “Thanks, dude.”

  “Dude?” he asked as he pulled the door down.

  She locked it in place and shrugged. “You got a problem with that, baby?”

  It was impossible to keep from moving into her personal space as she straightened up, “I like ‘baby’ more.”

  Harbour staggered and took a step back. After staring at him for a while, she shook her head and thumped him again.

  “So, you’re still set on staying at Harbour B 'n B?”

  It was actually kind of cute to think that her parents had named their business after her. Although with them, it was possible they named her after the business.

  “All my stuff is there.”

  “Right. Get in, big boy.”

  “Sure thing, babe.”

  “Yeah, we’re going to stop this,” Harbour said as she pulled herself into the truck.

  “I don’t know,” Derek said as he gently shoved a sleeping Jareth out of the way so he could fit inside. “I kind of like watching you blush.”

  “I don’t blush.”

  Derek declined to respond and instead watched the town slowly pass. Nowhere wasn’t known for its nightlife, but the few people that would have been out had been driven in by the rain. The streetlights made the falling droplets sparkle like crystal and the steady thrum against the metal roof lured his exhausted mind into a sleepy daze.

  All too soon they were back at the B ’n B and te truck jerked to a stop. Heading back into the rain wasn’t that tempting, but staying waterlogged wasn’t either. Jareth lunged from the truck and was the first to make it to the front door.

  The building was far smaller than any Derek had ever called his home, but instead of feeling claustrophobic it made him feel comfortable and oddly safe. Maybe because there were far fewer places for someone to hide.

  Their socks squished as they headed up the staircase and down the hallway. It wasn’t until they reached the bathroom that Harbour whirled around to face him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I assumed we were going to get warm.”

  “Yes,” she said, “But that’s not really a shared activity. And anyway, I’m having a bath.”

  “So? There’s a bath and there’s a shower.”

  Harbour stared at him, brow furrowed, as if she was repeating his words in her head and still couldn’t find any sense in them.

  “Are you suggesting that you have a shower while I’m in the bath?”

  “Why not?”

  She stammered. “I shouldn’t have to explain why that’s not going to happen.”

  “Harbour, we’re both cold, and both adults. But I promise not to peek if that makes you feel better.”

  “And you don’t care if I peek?”

  He smiled. “Do you want to see me naked?”

  Shaking her head, she held up her hands in defeat. “You go ahead and have your shower. Then I’m having my bath.”

  She slipped past him and sloshed back towards her room. While she was only a few feet away, he still felt oddly lonely. It was a strange sensation. Half of his life had been spent alone and it had never really bothered him. But now, not having someone to annoy whenever he felt like was unsettling in a way that he didn’t want to explore.

  “You don’t think you’re being a little childish?”

  Harbour waved him off and closed her door with a solid thud.

  ***

  He hadn’t even finished rubbing the warm water from his hair when Harbour began to fill the bathtub. She tossed in a bath bomb and as it fizzled the steam became drenched with the scents of roses and lemon. As if that wasn’t enough, she also drizzled bubble bath under the pouring faucet. The water frothed and notes of lavender and coconut oil added to the mix.

  Curious, Derek watched her as she left the room. She came back a few moments later with two glasses of wine and half a dozen candles. She handed him one of the glasses and set about organizing the candles.

  “How long do you intend to stay in here?”

  “An hour at the least,” she said. “It’s been months since I’ve had the bathroom to myself and I’m taking advantage it.”

  The chill of the tiles seeped into Derek’s feet as he rested his hip against the sink. It was lucky that his surviving suitcase had a set of sweater pants and a shirt that was comfortable enough to sleep in.

  Harbour moved carefully as she arranged her bath, each step perfected over time. When she was satisfied with the water temperature, she rocked back on her ankles and smiled with anticipation.

  “I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Harbour. This is going to be nice.”

  She snapped around like she had forgotten that he was still there.

  “You’re not staying.”

  “And yet you brought me a drink. That suggests differently.”

  “I promised you the drink and knew that you would annoy me if I didn’t bring you one.”

  Harbour stood up and gripped Derek’s shoulders. He couldn’t help but smile when her fingers subconsciously spread wider, cupping around the curve of his muscles.

  “Okay,” she stammered, “Out you go.”

  “But I really want a bath now. It looks very inviting.”

  “You’re not taking my bath, Derek.”

  He licked his lips and closed the distance that separated them. Harbour’s eyes widened slightly but she didn’t move away, didn’t drop her hands, even as he lowered his face and whispered.

  “We can always share it.”

  The possibilities those words created flashed in his head. They were rather tempting images. Slick skin, clinging bubbles, warmth and contact and a moment separate from the rest of the world. His lower stomach clench
ed when her fingers squeezed his arms. The smoky grey of her eyes held him. He didn’t want to be the first one to break the contact. In one heady instant, he realized that he wanted her to say yes.

  “You should go now,” Harbour whispered on a husky breath.

  He smiled. “Should I?”

  Her breath hitched and his free hand began to rise on its own accord, hovering over her hipbone but never making contact. Shaking her head, Harbour forced him to spin around and pushed him to the door.

  “Out.”

  “But I didn’t get bubbles.”

  “You made your choice with the shower and now have to live with it.”

  With a final sharp shove, she pushed him out into the hall and shut the door before he could turn around. Deprived of the heat of the steam and the sweet smell of the bathwater, Derek felt an unnerving sense of isolation.

  “I’m drinking the rest of your wine.”

  She didn’t open the door as she called back, “One hour. No interruptions.”

  He had the strongest urge to kick the door.

  Chapter Twelve

  Harbour released a soft sigh as the searing water enveloped her tired limbs. Towards the end, it had been difficult to keep Derek from noticing her mounting pain. She didn’t know why she was so determined for him not to know, but it was a notion that she couldn’t shake. Closing her eyes, she rested her head back against the tiles and breathed in the soft scents of the bath oils. The candlelight made the shadows dance over the walls while the patter of the rain eased her mind.

  She sank deeper into the water and felt her muscles finally begin to release. Her mind wondered as she let her aching fingers float under the surface. Without permission, her mind shifted to Derek, to the offer he had made. He had been joking, of course. She didn’t think for a moment that he hadn’t been. After all, even in the height of his shameless flirting years, he had never looked at her twice. But as the hot water lapped at her skin, Harbour couldn’t keep her mind from mulling the idea over.

  The tub wasn’t that big. Set in the wall, it wasn’t even long enough for her to lie down completely. His legs weren’t long. Proportional, but not long. It was his bulk that would be the biggest issue. With his shoulders, he wouldn’t be able to sink past the rim without hunching awkwardly.

  Thinking of the logistics of the situation, it was clear that Derek obviously hadn’t thought things through. Sitting one person at each end would just result in leg cramps and accidental kicks in unwanted places. Idiot.

  She snaked a hand out of the water, not bothering to shake off the bubbles that clung to her skin, and collected her wine glass off the floor. The crisp taste of the red wine splashed over her tongue. With an empty stomach and a room full of steam, the alcohol seemed to go straight to her head. It added to the soft, comfortable haze that surrounded her thoughts.

  Maybe they could both fit, she supposed, if they sat at the same end. It had just been a passing thought but her mind clung to it, nurturing and expanding it until she could clearly picture the scene. Her fingers remembered all too well what his shoulders had felt like. Soft skin, pliable and smooth, coating muscles like forged steel. His whole back would feel like that, an addictive mix of fragility and strength. Her mind wrapped around the added information and she could almost feel him nestled against her chest.

  His hips were narrow. But the strong bones would still push her thighs against the walls of the tub if she was to curl her legs around him. With Derek’s annoying nature he would probably like sitting like that, insisting that he was too comfortable to move, so she would have to feed him his wine and wash his skin.

  Her memory easily supplied a detailed example of what his bare torso looked like. Would he lean his head back on her shoulder as she smoothed soap along his neck, the endless expanse of his shoulders, the ridges and dips of his chest? The light scattering of ebony hair that littered his pectorals and drifted down the contours of his abs would catch the suds.

  She remembered how his hair looked like ink when it was wet. Dark enough to remain stark even as his skin took on a rich flush with the heat. Would he be determined for her to wash everywhere, to dip her hand lower, to run her fingers along the sharp edge of where his hips met his stomach? How soft would the delicate skin below his abs feel when slick with water soap?

  “Harbour?”

  She lurched up, the bathwater sloshing over the rim of the tub scattering bubbles across the floor. What the hell had she been thinking? Where had any of that come from? She put the wine glass down like it would explode and raked a hand through her hair.

  “Harbour? You okay?”

  “What do you want, Derek?” She had hoped for the words to come out sharp and stern but there was a huskiness to her breath that she didn’t care for.

  “Do you want some more wine?”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to have another glass. Do you want any?”

  Harbour licked her dry lips. “No, I’ve most definitely had enough.”

  “Okay.”

  She listened to his retreated footsteps and sank back into the water. Her mind was still cluttered with bombarding thoughts and embarrassment. She still didn’t understand any of it. Sure, Derek was good looking; she couldn’t deny that. Anyone who had functioning eyes and even the slightest grasp of reality would have to concede that the man oozed sex appeal. But he had never been her type, physically or mentally, so what had changed?

  Maybe it was just the residue of having so many people telling her all day how they saw him as a living Adonis. It had planted a seed and, when she didn’t have anything else to do, it had bloomed. That was it. No need to worry. It was just one moment of craziness and it was over.

  With that settled, Harbour leaned back once more and closed her eyes. It took a long time for her to relax enough to let her mind drift. It had been a stupid idea, anyway. Derek was way too defensive now to be the little spoon, as it were. Hell, even a longing gaze from across a room was enough to get his hackles up. Actual touch had left him seething for hours.

  But then, he had been the one to bring it up, to stupidly suggest the notion. She sank down until the water lapped at her shoulders. The bubbles popped gently and the storm continued. As the minutes ticked by, Harbour grew too sleepy to have any control over which paths her mind took.

  Maybe he had been suggesting that he be the big spoon? That she would be the one to lean back against his rather impressive chest and be surrounded by his sinfully toned arms and muscular thighs. The width of the tub might not accommodate them like that. It might be more comfortable for him to prop one leg along the rim of the tub. She had never had a particular interest in feet, but the notion of watching small tendrils of suds trail down his toes and slip along his arches had an odd appeal.

  And in that position, it would be impossible to keep from feeling every inch of his front against her sensitive skin, from the ripples of his muscles to his natural heat. The scratch of his stubble along the side of her neck. And something deeper down pressed against the soft curve of her backside.

  “Harbour.”

  “Shit!”

  “Harbour?” Derek’s voice came again, this time with a hint of concern. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” She stammered over a dozen sentences she realized she didn’t want to finish before she snapped out, “It hasn’t been an hour.”

  “I’m ordering dinner. Do you want anything?”

  “One hour.” Because really, that was all she wanted to keep her mind on.

  “If I order it now, it should arrive just after you get out. Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Fine. Order.” She splashed some water on her face to chase off the lingering thoughts. “Thank you.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Whatever. I don’t mind.”

  “It’s really awkward talking through a door. Can I just come in?”

  “No!”

  “Harbour —”

  “I am in the bath, Derek.”

/>   “A bubble bath,” he dismissed. “I won’t be able to see anything.”

  “Do not open that door.”

  He was silent for a moment, “Are you telling me this door doesn’t have a lock, or that you didn’t lock it?”

  “I’m telling you I’m in the bath!”

  “I have that information, thanks,” he said with a bored tone. “So, food?”

  “Whatever you’re getting.” It was too weird to talk to him while the images provoked by her wayward thoughts were still fresh in her mind. The steam was clogged in lungs. She couldn’t catch her breath. She just wanted him to go away. “Just get me whatever you’re getting.”

  “Do you like seafood?”

  His calm tone worked on her nerves. It would have been better if there was an edge to his words. Then maybe she wouldn’t feel so guilty for jumping on the ‘Derek should be undressed’ bandwagon.

  “Derek. Please.”

  She was met by silence and could almost convince herself that he had actually gone. Then he spoke, his voice softer than it had been.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound tense.”

  “Yes. I’m fine. I just want a few more moments of peace.”

  “You’re taking baths wrong. They’re supposed to mellow you out,” Derek said as his footsteps began to disappear down the hallway. “If you’re good, I’ll show you how to do it properly later on.”

  Harbour clenched at the words, at the onslaught of wet, slick, warm images that instantly flooded her mind. With an agonised groan, she sank back and let the water swallow her whole.

  ***

  Completing the order, Derek ended the call and put Harbour’s cell back onto the kitchen island. She really should have put a lock on her phone. He had almost forgotten how odd it was to order delivery in Nowhere. There couldn’t be many other places where you didn’t just place the order with the restaurant, but also hired a taxi driver to pick it up and bring it over. It had served as a good distraction for a few minutes, but now he was back to a quiet house, boredom, and a now half-empty bottle of wine.