by Cowan, Debra
Visibly trying to remain in control, she took a deep breath. “Can you call Ken now? Will you tell him about Robin and Terra, too?”
“Yes.” The fear in her eyes hollowed out his gut. He wanted to go to her, put his arms around her, but he didn’t. “If something were to happen, if Julio tries to threaten them, they can both take care of themselves. Terra’s husband is a cop. Robin is a cop. When I call Ken, I’ll give him the addresses of your brothers and parents, too. He’ll do something to help.”
“Robin did say she planned to call Jack and tell him about the break-in and the phone calls to the hospital.”
“That’s good.” Although Robin talking to Terra’s husband didn’t seem to reassure Meredith much. The rare vulnerability in her eyes had Gage’s hands drawing up into fists so he wouldn’t touch her. “Spencer will know what precautions to take and how to protect Terra.”
“What if it’s not enough?”
He had no answer. When he shook his head, a tear spilled down her cheek.
Gage couldn’t help it. He went to her.
She edged away, around the corner of the sofa and he felt her withdrawal like a slap. “I need to be alone.”
“Okay, yeah.” Frustration and resentment rose at her obvious attempt to stay away from him.
She started down the hall.
“I’ll bring you some hot chocolate—”
“No, thanks.”
He ground his teeth. “If you need anything, I’ll be on the deck.”
She didn’t respond, just went into the bedroom and shut the door.
He dragged a hand down his face. He wanted to go after her and just hold her, but it would be a mistake. Because if he got his hands on her again, he wasn’t letting go.
Chapter 8
A few hours later, Meredith froze at the corner of the breakfast bar, her apology stuck in her throat. The round table was set with red earthenware plates, napkins, silverware and wineglasses. A toasty-lemony scent drifted to her. In the background, the Righteous Brothers crooned “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling.”
Gage looked up from the salad he was making. “Ready for supper?”
“What is this?” Her gaze skipped around the kitchen, over the two saucepans on the stove putting off a savory aroma, then back to the place settings. “What have you done?”
“Cooked?” With a crooked grin, he stepped over to the table and set down the bowl of mixed greens.
After what she’d said earlier, Meredith couldn’t believe he was even talking to her, let alone cooking. “I was awful to you earlier. Why would you do this?”
His gaze softened on her face before he turned away. “We have to eat, right?”
Her heart swelled painfully. He moved again to the table, carrying a bottle of chilled white wine and filling the two glasses.
“Have a seat.” Returning with their plates, he placed them on the counter then opened the oven. The citrusy aroma of lemon-baked fish filled the small space.
She’d been planning to apologize even before this thoughtful gesture. “I’m sorry for what I said before, about this all being because of you.”
“It is, Meredith.”
“You have no more control over this than I do.” Her nerves were raw from their close proximity, the waiting, being chased, hiding out, all of it. And the new fear that Julio could harm one of her best friends or family members had everything crashing in on her. “I was afraid and frustrated. You tried to reassure me and I jumped down your throat. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”
“It’s okay. You’re entitled.” Using a spatula, he slid one piece of fish from the baking pan onto a plate. “You were upset when you heard about the break-in at your house. I didn’t like it, either. The situation is scary. You shouldn’t even be involved in this.”
“You wouldn’t have put me in this position if you’d had a choice.” She exchanged the filled plate for the empty one. “Will you accept my apology?”
“It isn’t necessary, but okay.”
She smiled, then noticed his smooth jawline. “You shaved.”
“Yes.”
The tautness of his voice tweaked at the tension that had been between them before she’d disappeared into the bedroom.
Changing the subject, she moved toward the table. “It smells wonderful.”
He grinned and motioned her into a chair. “Stop stalling and find out for yourself.”
They sat and Meredith bit into a flaky, tender piece of cod. “Oh, this is good!”
He took a bite, then gave a satisfied nod.
“You can’t tell me you were getting tired of my specialty, sandwiches and soup.”
“Just thought it would be nice to have something different.”
“And wine. Wine is an excellent idea.” Meredith studied him for a moment. While she’d been stewing, he’d been doing things, nice things.
In the background, Elvis began to sing “It’s Now or Never.” The overhead light glinted off the red plates. For a bit, the only sound, apart from the music, was the scrape of their silverware as they ate.
Gage glanced over. “I spoke to Ivory. He’s going to have some people watch Robin and Terra. Your family, too.”
“Thank you.” The strong relief she felt had her wanting to grip his hand. Instead, she sipped at her wine, enjoying its crisp flavor.
As they ate, Gage asked about the man who had been chief of the Oklahoma City Fire Department at the time of Gage’s “demise” and Meredith updated him on current department politics.
She was still concerned about what might happen to her friends and family, but was reassured to know the State Attorney General was helping. She might’ve attributed her increasing calm to that, but when Gage made her laugh about something, she realized it was more due to him.
The atmosphere between them was comfortable as he told her he hadn’t made any further progress with his tests that afternoon. They discussed everything from movies to music, and she began to relax.
He didn’t act as if he were angry about her accusation earlier and Meredith was glad. Still, she noticed he was careful not to touch her. Not when she handed him her wineglass for a refill or when he passed her more steamed vegetables or reached for the salt. It drove her nuts.
Especially since she’d been thinking about what might have happened if she’d gone with him to the bedroom as he’d challenged a couple of days ago.
When they finished eating, he refused to let her help with cleanup. He poured her another glass of wine and sent her into the living room where he’d already turned on the gas fire. As she settled on the floor and rested back against the brick hearth, she snagged a magazine from a rack beside the television. Considering the way she’d acted earlier, she had expected coolness from Gage, not thoughtfulness. Her heart turned over in her chest.
The magazine was open, but her attention was on the big man in the kitchen. A faint lemony scent still hung in the air. He moved efficiently from the table to the sink, his shoulder looking stiff even though he didn’t appear to be bothered by any pain there. Or by any of his other injuries.
The startling realization of how close he’d come to dying put a hard knot in her chest, just as it had when he’d told her that night on the mountain. The danger, the uncertainty weighed on her. It had to weigh on him, too.
Not wanting to put a damper on their evening, she turned her thoughts to dinner. When they’d been a couple, he had cooked for her frequently. He’d always said being a fireman gave him an edge over her because of the years he was responsible for meals on a regular basis at the firehouse. He was good at cooking, as he was at most things.
As he had been with her in the beginning.
From their first date, they had enjoyed each other’s company without a single awkward, getting-to-know-you moment. And despite what had happened to them, being with him now steadied her. Even in these circumstances.
It also unlocked memories. The past was a dangerous place to visit and she’d tried desp
erately not to do it in the past eighteen months. She doubted Gage had intended for their supper to remind her of the way things used to be between them, but it did.
Without his wineglass, he joined her at the fireplace, easing down beside her. Bending one knee, he draped an arm over it. His other hand rested on his thigh.
“How’s your shoulder?”
He glanced at it. “Not too bad.”
“The stitches should be checked again tomorrow.”
He nodded, reaching toward the coffee table for the television remote.
There was a good foot of space between them. Meredith should be glad for the distance; instead she was irritated. At him and herself. The less contact they had, the more she wanted.
When she’d come into the kitchen for supper, she’d been determined not to cross the line he’d drawn between them, but his thoughtfulness chipped away at her resolve.
“Remember the first time you cooked for me?” she asked. “It was breakfast.” In bed. “You picked me up after a long shift and took me to your place.”
“I remember.” The way his voice deepened gave her a shiver.
After eating, they’d showered. And stayed in bed all day. A quick glance at his hot blue eyes told her he remembered everything as well as she did.
When an image of his hard naked body flashed through her mind, heat burned her neck and she looked away. “Thanks again for supper.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You made me feel better. You always could.” She was surprised at the sudden tears that stung her eyes.
Gage tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. Her gaze trailed down the strong corded line of his neck. She wanted to trace it with her tongue, follow it to the hollow of his throat.
She sipped at her wine. He’d told her what would happen if she touched him. “You cooked for me, too, after the presentation I gave to the American Medical Association on burn treatment. That was the night—”
She stopped herself from reminding them both of the night she had realized she was in love with him.
They’d been dating about three months and that evening had been easy and quiet, much like tonight. Well, minus the danger and all the lies about his being dead.
“That’s one of my favorite memories,” she said.
“Mine, too,” he murmured.
Sensation rippled through her, her smile faltering as she became aware of the words the Righteous Brothers sang. “Unchained Melody.” Beside her, Gage stilled and she wondered if he was having the same memory that suddenly rushed over her.
A month after realizing her feelings for him, they’d come to her family’s lake house. This song had been playing in the background the night he proposed on the back porch swing.
Suddenly, all the old feelings surged back. The deep joy they’d found in being together, the certainty that there was no one else for them, the belief they’d be together forever.
As she set her wineglass on the hearth, she looked over, her gaze locking with his. Yes, he remembered. His dark, half-lidded gaze made her body vibrate clear down to her toes.
Maybe it was the song—their song—but as the Righteous Brothers’ smoky voices wrapped around her, Meredith was swept into the past. All the good memories. She had missed him. She was tired of being without him. Before she even realized she’d moved, she leaned in and brushed her lips against his.
Gage froze, squashing the urge to haul her to him and crush his mouth to hers. After learning about the break-in at her house, he had seen how rattled she’d been. He’d wanted to do something nice for her, so he’d cooked. He hadn’t expected this in return.
When he didn’t move away, she kissed him again, a real kiss this time. Her soft lips coaxed his, teased, her tongue tickling the corner of his mouth before he let her in.
She tasted cool, honey-sweet. He wanted to strip her bare and drink her up. He wanted her to touch him. All over. All night.
By some unbelievable force of will, he managed to keep his hands to himself. Fierce need swelled inside him as he pulled back slightly. “Do you remember what I told you?”
Her gaze never left his. “Yes.”
“Say it,” he demanded roughly. Muscles coiling, he waited.
Waited to see exactly what she wanted, how far she would go. He saw a flicker of indecision and for one second he thought she would back off.
Then she whispered, “If I touch you, you touch me.”
Hell, yes. He barely registered pulling her across his lap then taking her to the floor. Wasn’t aware that he’d unbuttoned her soft plaid shirt until he pulled his mouth from hers to rake his teeth down her throat and found his fingers already curved around her breast.
He flicked the front clasp on her black lace bra. She spilled into his hand, soft and warm and perfect. His thumb rasped across her tight nipple.
She shifted beneath him, squeezing his thigh tight between hers and pushing her hands under his sweatshirt to stroke his bare back. The broken way his name spilled from her throat jacked his pulse into overdrive.
Drawing in a deep breath of her faint apricot scent, Gage sank into a haze of sensation. He pushed aside the open edges of her shirt and looked at his sun-darkened skin against her creamy, petal-smooth flesh, flushed from his touch. He stroked his hand between her breasts then cupped her fullness. When he closed his mouth over her, she inhaled sharply. Chest tightening, his blood hammered in his veins.
The whole time he’d been in WitSec, he remembered being with her—how she felt beneath him, the way her breath caught when he slid inside her, the way she always linked hands with him afterward, as if she thought he might leave.
Murmuring, she pulled his head back to hers and kissed him. The hand on her breast trembled slightly. Beneath his touch, he felt her pulse jump.
He’d missed her like hell. He had no idea what was going on. All he knew was that she lay beneath him and he’d been waiting a damn long time to get her there.
One of her soft, hot hands dipped below the waist of his jeans, scoring the small of his back with her nails. Burning need spiked inside him. She slid the other palm around his waist to his stomach. A second later, his jeans were open and her hand moved inside his boxers.
She curled her fingers around him. The sigh she made against his mouth nearly set him off.
Some part of his brain still worked. Searching for control, he lifted his head, his breathing labored. Firelight chased across her rose-and-cream features. Dreamy blue eyes stared up into his.
“You sure about this?”
“Yes.” Slipping one hand out from under his sweatshirt, she skimmed her fingers down his clean-shaven jaw. “I want you.”
Wild blond curls fell across one cheek and part of her eye. He nudged them away, grazing his thumb across her cheekbone. She was so beautiful, it hurt to look at her.
His gaze tracked down her body and Meredith’s heart nearly pounded out of her chest.
He slid her shirt off. She pressed against him, her lace and satin bra open so nothing was between their hot skin.
He kissed her until she couldn’t feel her legs, drawing the strength from her before trailing his lips down her neck. Sliding one arm beneath her, he supported her as he laved and nipped his way to the swell of her breasts. He tugged off her bra, curling his tongue around her rosy puckered flesh.
“Oh, wow.” She twisted against him. “Gage.”
He opened her jeans, slipped his hand into her panties and curled his fingers inside her. A ragged moan spilled out of her throat.
The feel of his slightly rough flesh against the smoothness of hers had heat flashing across Meredith’s skin and she thrust her hands into his hair, trying to steady herself. His every touch was slow and thorough. She’d always loved that, but she couldn’t handle it this time.
That intensity focused on her was thrilling. And terrifying. She didn’t want to feel everything she’d always felt with him. The emotion was too raw, tapped too much of the pain from their past. S
he needed him to hurry.
Shoving up his sweatshirt, she flexed her hands in the wiry golden hair on his chest. He was hot and solid.
Reaching behind him, he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it. She rolled him to his back, careful of his injured shoulder. He filled his hands with her breasts and lifted up to take one nipple in his mouth.
Her throat went tight. “Let me touch you, Gage.”
He allowed her to slide down his body. His fingers skimmed over her back, her shoulders, as she kissed his neck, breathing in the scent of man and soap. She slid her lips to his chest, scraped her teeth over his nipples, kept moving.
A sound rumbled out of him. He was breathing hard, one hand cupping her head. “Slow down, baby.”
“No.” A low throb worked through her body and she was taken aback by a sudden sting of tears.
She wrestled his jeans and boxers past his muscled thighs. Following the garments down his body, she nipped his flat stomach just below his navel then moved lower to do it again.
“Son of a—” He pulled her up, fastening his mouth on hers.
Worked every time, Meredith thought as he rolled her to her back. He slid his big hands into her panties and pushed them off.
“Hurry,” she breathed against his mouth. She wriggled, wanting—needing—him to move now.
Holding her head, he settled between her thighs. His hot straining flesh pushed against her. Meredith wanted to look away from the raw desire blazing in his eyes, but she couldn’t move. She could barely breathe.
She tightened her legs around his hips and he pressed against her.
Then froze. “Damn it!”
“What?” she cried out, her short nails digging into biceps of pure steel.
He straightened his arms, bracing himself over her. Color burned across his cheekbones. He was breathing hard, his arousal throbbing against her inner thigh. “I don’t have protection. I haven’t been with anyone since you so I haven’t needed anything—”
