by Robin Caroll
“Hey, Bella. Whatcha doing?” Hayden sounded more chipper than he had a right to be. His stupid suggestion was what had gotten her into this mess in the first place.
“Planning your demise.” She plopped across the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan.
Hayden chuckled. “What’d I do now?”
It was hard to stay angry at Hayden when he was in such a good mood. She grinned to herself. “I have a date tonight.”
“How’s that my fault?” Surprise lilted his voice. “Wait a minute . . . you have a date?”
She took a moment’s pleasure over the fact that she’d shocked him, albeit briefly. “Don’t sound so surprised. I mean, sheesh, it’s entirely possible I get asked on dates all the time. For all you know, I could be turning down a date every single day.”
“Do you?”
“No, but I could.”
“Stop avoiding the question, Bella. Who are you going out with tonight?”
She grinned. If only she could see his face right now. “Rafe Baxter.”
“W-whhaatt? When? How’d this happen?”
Bella chuckled. “I ran by the diner to grab a sandwich and he was there. I remembered what you said.”
“That I think he likes you?”
“Yes. What, are we in junior high again?” She snorted. “Let’s just say that after getting shot at last night, I realized you’re right.”
“I am?”
She laughed. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”
“What, exactly, am I right about this time?”
“That I need to know if I can trust him. I know for a fact I can’t trust Hartlock and Devane. It’s time to figure out which side Baxter leans toward—the truth, or the corrupt.” It surprised her a bit to realize she actually cared what Rafe Baxter thought.
“Smart idea, if I do say so myself.”
“Yeah, whatever.” She rolled onto her stomach, propping up on her elbows. “Of course, now I have no idea what I’m going to do about the whole widow thing.”
“Well, that’s part of why you need to see if you can trust him. Then you could just tell him the truth.”
Yeah, well, there was that. But there was also the tightening of her stomach. What if she could trust him? How would she feel about him? It would almost be easier for her if Rafe turned out to be as corrupt as Hartlock and Devane.
Almost, but not quite.
Rafe checked his reflection again, all the while admonishing himself for acting like a boy with a crush. His heart thundered. He hadn’t felt this way since . . .
He ran a hand over his freshly shaven face. He never figured Darren knew how he’d felt about Georgia. He’d been shocked enough to learn she’d known, never once thinking Darren could be aware of his love for her. But love Georgia, Rafe had. With all his heart. And that’s why he’d respected Darren’s and her marriage. Anyone with eyes could see how the two adored one another.
On the other hand, just seeing them together all the time almost ripped Rafe’s heart out. Yet, he’d remained best friends with Darren, allowing salt to be ground into his open, gaping wound constantly.
When she’d led both Darren and him down the winding path of Christianity, he’d realized loving her as he did, wanting her, was wrong. He’d tried to stop loving her. Tried to turn away. He never could. And that ate him up inside.
But Darren’s words, his confidence that God understood—could it be he truly was forgiven? Free to move on and fall in love with someone else? Someone like . . .
Bella Miller.
Rafe noticed the time. He grabbed his keys and headed out of the motel room. The evening October air held more chill than he’d expected, and he hadn’t even brought a Windbreaker.
He’d cleaned out his car earlier in the afternoon, so the hint of new-car air freshener welcomed him. He set the thermostat to hot and activated the defroster before slipping the car in Reverse. At least it’d be comfortable when Bella got in.
Rafe’s pulse spiked as he drove the ten minutes to her house. So close to town, yet so isolated. A log cabin nestled against the bayou wasn’t what he’d have imagined her to own, but it fit her. She was very much the nature type: outdoorsy and full of life. The type of woman he found most attractive.
Nerves bunched his muscles as he clamored up the steps of her porch. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door.
It opened with a creak, and she filled the doorway.
Bella left him speechless. Her brown hair with reddish streaks looked as if it’d been kissed by the sun. Her skin still glowed with the fading shades of a tan. No makeup marred her natural beauty. Her welcoming smile warmed him faster than any car heater.
“Hi.” She sounded almost as breathless as he felt. She wore a bright blue sweater that brought out the blue in her amazing seafoam eyes.
“You look beautiful.” The words escaped before he could stop them. Heat marched across his face. He forced a smile.
Pink dotted her cheeks. “Thank you.” She turned and grabbed a purse, slinging the strap over her shoulder. “Are you ready?”
He waited while she locked the door, then motioned for her to precede him down the porch steps. “How’s your dog?”
“Good. The vet says he’ll recover without any permanent damage.”
He opened the passenger door for her. “That’s good.” She didn’t realize how important having the dog was to her safety. Had the dog not alerted her to the men in the backyard last night . . . well, the situation could’ve had a much different outcome.
And she could have been hurt or worse. That thought turned his blood to ice.
Rafe shut the door behind her, then went to the driver’s side and slipped behind the steering wheel. He cranked the engine, then looked at Bella. He couldn’t help noticing how perfect she looked in his car. “Um, you’ll have to give me directions.”
She smiled and rattled off a quick route that would take him right outside city limits. He’d passed the restaurant she named on his way into town. A steak house. His stomach rumbled. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed the diner’s plate specials, but the thought of a thick porterhouse made his mouth water.
“So, how long have you been in the FBI?” She shifted in her seat to better face him.
“Just a little more than ten years.” But some days, it felt like so much longer than a decade. Some cases just wore him out, wore him down.
“What made you want to become an agent?”
He glanced at her face, gauging her interest. Her eyes were wide and alert, her eyebrows slightly raised. “My parents were stateside missionaries. They were all about defending the rights of those who couldn’t defend themselves.” He shrugged, pleased that talking about his parents didn’t rip his chest out any longer. “I guess their moral code rubbed off on me.”
She smiled. “They must be very proud of you.”
His chest squeezed. “They’re dead now.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes widened more, and her lips parted slightly.
“Thanks.” He swallowed down the lump caught in his throat. “They were hit by a drunk driver years ago.” Which was why the jerk was up for parole. He’d served half his sentence already. Funny it didn’t seem so long ago.
The ache in Rafe still threatened to suffocate him at times.
She licked her lips as an uncomfortable silence filled the air.
He probably shouldn’t have discussed something so depressing on the first fifteen minutes of their date.
“I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “The ache lessens over time, but it never goes all the way away.”
Her husband?
Even Rafe knew discussing a dead spouse was inappropriate etiquette on a first date. Yet he wanted to know everyt
hing about Bella Miller, even about the man who’d stolen her heart. He wanted to know what made her tick . . . what she loved . . . .what grabbed her.
He turned into the parking lot of the restaurant. She withdrew her hand from his and reached for the purse she’d set on the floorboard. He pulled the car under the awning and rushed to the passenger side, but the valet had already opened her door. He handed his keys to the valet, then escorted her inside.
Just the simple touch of his hand to the small of her back sent sparks of electricity up his arm.
The enticing aroma of sizzling onions and beef slammed against him as soon as they entered the restaurant. Rafe’s stomach surged. The hostess sat them at a table off in a corner. The candle on the table flickered, casting intimate shadows on the walls.
Almost immediately a wait person brought a basket of bread and two glasses of water, then whisked away as if he’d never been there. Very unobtrusive.
He cleared his throat. “Would you like me to bless the food, or do you prefer to do the honors?”
Her face scrunched as she shook her head. “You go ahead.”
He stuttered for a moment, then bowed his head. “Father God, we thank You for the food we’re about to receive and ask that You use it for the nourishment of our body and our bodies to Your service. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen.”
Rafe opened his eyes to find Bella studying him, an odd expression darkening her beautiful face. Did he say something wrong? Maybe she prayed in a certain way or something? She’d told him earlier that she’d been to church, so she was surely a Christian. He’d have to find out for certain.
They perused the menus and almost as soon as they’d made their selections, the waiter appeared, introduced himself, then took their orders before rushing away.
She smiled at Rafe as she grabbed a roll and spread butter on the inside. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
He returned the grin. “Two younger sisters: Maddie and Riley.”
“Your face just lit up. Y’all must be very close.”
“We are.” Warmth spread up from his stomach. “We got even closer after Mom and Dad were killed. The only good thing that came out of the ordeal.”
“I’m sorry. I keep bringing up painful things for you.”
Rafe sensed a wall bricking up. “No, don’t be. I’m fine. I like talking with you.”
“What do your sisters do?” She took a bite of the bread.
“Well, Maddie is an animal cruelty investigator.”
“That’s interesting.” She leaned closer. “How does that work?”
“She’s a freelance investigator. When the local ASPCA gets a complaint or the police department, Maddie’s called in to go check things out. If she finds an animal that’s been abused, she gets law enforcement to step in.”
“That’s really interesting.”
He grinned as he took a sip of water. “She likes it.”
“And your other sister—Riley?”
“The baby. Spoiled rotten.” He couldn’t help widening his grin. “Riley’s a reporter.”
“As in news reporter?”
“As in aspires-to-be-Diane-Sawyer reporter.”
Bella matched his grin before snagging another roll. “Ah, an investigative journalist?”
Riley would like that. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Is she any good? As a reporter?”
He shrugged. “She’s covered a couple of stories in the local papers. Seems to be making a name for herself.”
The waiter appeared with their salads, served, grated fresh Parmesan over the chilled china bowls, and then disappeared.
They enjoyed the salad, then Bella pushed her empty bowl to the side. “So, you’ve been with the FBI for over a decade. Do you enjoy it?”
“For the most part.” That was the honest truth. “Like when we solve a kidnapping case and reunite a child with the parents, it’s a pleasure to do my job. Or when we solve a case that’s been heart wrenching for a family and can help bring them closure, it’s worth it.”
“What about your partner?” She took a sip of water. “The FBI utilizes partners, don’t they?”
“We do, but I just got transferred to the Little Rock office. I haven’t been assigned a partner yet.” And he wasn’t really all that anxious to get one. No one could compare to Darren, and Rafe didn’t look forward to being put in that situation.
She sat up straight and took another sip of water. “Really?”
He chuckled, pleased more than he would admit that she showed such genuine interest in him. “The bureau is doing some restructuring and rebudgeting. They’re trying to level out the number of agents per office. The Memphis office was one agent heavy and the Little Rock office was one short.”
Her eyes widened. “They transferred you?”
“I volunteered.” He struggled to keep the smile in place while the waiter removed the empty bowls.
She picked up the conversation as soon as the waiter left. “Why would you do that? Were you unhappy?”
“Not at all.” He took a drink of his water, carefully considering his response. “Most of the team in the Memphis office have been there for a couple of decades. My partner was actually the one who would’ve been transferred.”
“So, why are you in Little Rock?”
“Darren has a daughter, my goddaughter, who has a heart condition. All her doctors are in Memphis.”
She blinked once . . . twice, then she smiled so softly, sending his heart to racing. “That’s really sweet. You’re a good man, Rafe Baxter.”
Her words sent waves of heat up the back of his neck and released a swarm of butterflies into his stomach.
The waiter returned with their entrées, but Rafe couldn’t stop staring at Bella. Praise from her did some mighty strange things to him.
And he liked it. A lot.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Most of the change we think we see in life is due to truths being in and out of favor.”
ROBERT FROST
“So you know all of my ugly history now . . . what about you?” He sliced into his humongous steak.
Bella stared at Rafe. She’d hoped to pick his brain while offering up no intel on herself but knew that was nearly impossible. She still hadn’t a clue how much to tell him but found herself inclined to trust him. “Well, I’ve passed thirty, my parents died when I was a child, and I have no siblings.” All true.
“I’m sorry.” He was so sweet and sincere. And handsome as all get-out, as Ardy would say.
“Don’t be.” She grinned and shook pepper on her pasta. “You know, we’ll have to stop apologizing to each other all the time.” She took a bite, which melted in her mouth. The alfredo sauce was perfect: creamy, savory, blended to the ideal consistency.
“Sounds like a plan to me.” His smile sent heat to her toes. “Tell me the rest of the Bella Miller story.”
He was such a charmer as he slipped a bite into his mouth. She’d have to be careful not to spill everything when he flashed that killer smile. “I like being outdoors, love my friends and my dog, enjoy reading mysteries with humor, and love watching movies.” She winked, enjoying the flirting. “How’s that for my singles ad?” It’d been so long since she’d flirted with any man . . . sadly, so long that she couldn’t even remember the last time.
That smile of his should come with a warning to all women on the planet.
“I like long walks on the beach and want world peace.” He spoke in a falsetto, then chuckled. “Seriously, I do like walks and hikes, my friends and family, and watching movies. Reading?” He grimaced as he wiped his mouth with the linen napkin. “Not so much.”
“How can you not love reading? It’s wonderful. An excursion, an adventure . . . an escape from reality.” She adored reading and ha
d a hard time grasping anyone not loving it.
“An escape from reality, huh?” He grinned around his fork.
“Hey, we all need them from time to time.” So many of her favorite novels had been what kept her going as she ran. Sometimes those familiar characters were her only friends. Time to change the subject. “So, have you ever been married?”
“Nope. Not even close.” His eyes turned darker. “How about you?”
Here she was—at the crossroads. Should she trust him? Could she? As charming and handsome as he was, she just wasn’t sure.
“Well, no. I’ve never even been close.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “But I’ve told someone I’d been married so I could get a perfect rental house.”
His brows formed a single unibrow. “What do you mean?”
“I found a perfect rental cottage from an elderly widow. She didn’t really want a single person living right behind her house for fear of parties and such. So I lied and said I was a widow so she wouldn’t turn down my application.” It was the truth. Kinda. “Does that make me a horrible person?” She swallowed the last bite of pasta, relishing the taste.
“That doesn’t make you a horrible person.” He swiped his mouth with a napkin. “So, what do you do? For a living, I mean?”
A ton of bricks landed on her chest. They’d been getting along so well—she’d been inching toward opening up to him and telling him everything. And now . . . he was going to play dumb, was he? Well, two could play that game. She was, after all, on this date for one reason—to find out if she could trust him. She had no business thinking or feeling anything outside of her goal.
She gritted her teeth. “You don’t know?”
He hesitated. Took a quick breath. Then smiled. “Well, I am an FBI agent, trained to detect things. You’re a photographer.”
She laid her fork and knife across her plate, keeping her expression as well as her tone neutral. “Then why did you ask?”
His charming smile abandoned him, but a hint of a blush spread across his cheeks. “I guess I wanted to know your story. What drew you to become a photographer . . . what you like to photograph . . . things like that.”
