by Jill Shalvis
Richards stared at him. “Look, I shouldn’t have given you a month. Now, get your ass back here. Get me a perp, McCall,” he growled, and left the room.
“Only a month ago he couldn’t yell at me enough,” he muttered.
His partner let out a breath. “Apparently he still can’t.”
* * *
ON THE WAY BACK TO Cooper’s Corner, Ian called home—
No. Not home. Thomas’s home. His own home was in New York. Odd, how that line had started to blur.
Annie answered, sounding breathless and adorable and sexy all at once.
And his heart immediately lifted. “Hey there,” he said softly, ridiculously excited to hear her voice.
“Hey there back. How was court? How’s the city? How’s your leg? Are you doing all right—”
“Wait,” he said, and laughed. Laughed. “I’m the one with the questions. Has anything else happened?”
“Hmm. Define happened.”
That stopped him cold. “You’ve had more problems? Or worse, you—”
“No,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry, no. I’m fine. Really.”
“You know what? We’re officially erasing fine from our vocabulary.”
“There’s been no threats,” she said with a weary smile in her voice. “No calls, no notes, no deliveries.”
“So what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Everything.” She laughed a little. “I don’t know. Listen, forget me. Tell me about what’s going on there.”
It never failed to set him back, having her want to talk about him. Wanting to know about him. “They want me back at work.”
Silence.
“Annie?”
“Out in the field?”
“Behind a desk for a while. I mean, I can’t even walk a block without needing a goddamn nap.”
“Oh, Ian, you’ll get your strength back.”
“I’m on my way back to Cooper’s right now,” he said.
“To pack up,” she said.
“I can’t leave you yet, Annie.”
“Interesting word choice,” she said. “Not ‘I don’t want to,’ but ‘can’t.”’
The words hung between them, hovering.
“Annie—”
“You know what? I’m not your responsibility. I won’t be your responsibility.”
Ah, hell. “I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t,” he repeated when she made a rude noise.
“Well, then how did you mean it?”
“My life is in New York,” he said a little desperately.
“Yes.” Her voice was brittle and somehow broke his heart. “Your entire life is in New York.”
No. Not his entire life…
“It’s okay, Ian. You leaving is inevitable. We both know that. I’ve always known.”
Inevitable? No, what was inevitable was the fact he was really falling for her.
And with that realization came another one. Everything he was, everything he ever would be, wasn’t necessarily tied into being the best possible DEA agent as he’d always believed.
Instead, it was tied into one place, the small, single-horse town he’d thought was holding him back—Cooper’s Corner.
And Annie.
“I want to be with you,” he said. “I want—”
“Don’t make me any promises,” she whispered, as always one step ahead of him. “Please, Ian. Don’t make me any promises you can’t keep.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
AUNT GERDIE PEEKED into a glass shop on Main Street. So pretty. With a guilty twinge, she glanced over her shoulder once, twice.
But no sign of them, either of them.
Them being Thomas and Annie, who’d made her promise to sit on the nice bench on Main Street. She’d crossed her fingers behind her back as she made the promise—wrong of her, she supposed, but even an old woman needed some freedom now and again.
She was sure Thomas and Annie thought she was still happily eating her six-inch-long dill pickle from the deli, waiting for them.
And granted, she’d tried. The bench was nice, and surrounded by the beauty of Cooper’s Corner, she might have easily sat there all day while Annie ran into the Coopers’ main store and Thomas into the feed store.
But then she’d seen the new glass shop with all its pretty trinkets hanging so enticingly in the window, and she couldn’t help herself.
The door had chimes on it, and she aahed in wonder at the beautiful sound they made as she entered, then sighed in delight at the myriad of shiny, precious things everywhere—a music box of blown glass, brilliant with colors that reflected the light just so, a collection of glass plates, handpainted with flowers from each season. Oh, the beauty, everywhere.
“Can I help you, Gerdie?” asked a young woman she recognized as Tracy, the daughter of Beatrice, the woman who did Gerdie’s hair every week.
“I’m just looking, thank you.” Happy, she wandered the aisles. The soft muted recorded sounds of the ocean filled the air, soothing and hauntingly beautiful. She found a brass earring stand, filled with handmade earrings, and she stopped, riveted to a pair in the shape of seashells.
Annie loved seashells, always had. Oh, couldn’t she just see her beloved niece wearing these earrings, smiling up at her Ian, so breathtaking he’d want to marry her on the spot?
Yes. Yes, she could. She pictured Annie walking down the aisle toward him, toward her happily ever after.
Oh, how Gerdie wanted a happily ever after for her Annie.
But the girl was bullheaded. So bullheaded she couldn’t see how much Ian cared about her.
And that poor, poor man, he’d never had a chance, not from that first moment he’d looked into her niece’s eyes.
Unfortunately, he was as stubborn as she, damn them both. What was wrong with those two, anyway? It was clear as the nose on her face they belonged together.
The beautiful children they’d make! She couldn’t wait to see that, to hold them in her arms. That is, if Annie would ever slow down enough to see this was exactly what she needed in her life.
It hurt Gerdie’s heart, it did, how hard the girl worked. It hurt her heart so much she put a hand to it.
“Gerdie?” It was Tracy again. “You okay?”
She’d be better if she could figure out what to do to get Annie and Ian together, as they belonged.
“Gerdie?”
Yes, yes, she was fine, if only her heart would ease up a little, and if Tracy would stop hovering. She was trying to think here, trying to plan. But odd, how searing the pain suddenly was. She put both hands to it now, but it only seemed to spread.
Probably the pickle had been a bad idea, they always gave her incredible heartburn, and this was definitely incredible. Huffing and puffing, she sank to her knees with the earrings still in her hand. Now they’d probably think she was stealing them!
“Gerdie!”
She could hear the fear in Tracy’s voice, and tried to smile. Honestly, she’d have to give up pickles, just as she’d had to give up most of her other favorite foods because of her cholesterol level. Getting old was no fun at all.
Now, where was she…? Oh, yes, planning on how to get Annie and Ian together…
“Dr. Dorn? I think she’s having a heart attack,” Tracy said frantically into a phone, kneeling in front of Gerdie. “Hurry!”
Oh, dear. That was going to panic Annie but good, and that poor, sweet child had so many other things to be worrying about—
Hmm. Worrying. Terrible as it was to think it, worrying just might be the catalyst that would finally bring Annie and Ian together….
* * *
AUNT GERDIE LANDED HERSELF at Dr. Dorn’s emergency clinic. She snoozed through a few tests, then woke up some time later in a private room. From the hallway, she could hear Annie saying, “Is she awake? Can I see her?”
“She’s sleeping, but you can go in” came Dr. Felix Dorn’s voice.
Gerdie felt bad about Annie’s fear for her, but knew nothing was wrong with her. Her pickle had
been digested by now, and right on schedule, her chest pain had vanished.
Now, all she had to do was stop being a burden and be a help instead.
To do that, she was going to get Annie to marry Ian. Somehow, some way.
The door pushed open farther, and she swallowed her smile and feigned sleep.
* * *
ANNIE MOVED ACROSS the clinic floor. Aunt Gerdie lay still and silent in her bed, hooked up to a variety of machines, all pumping and beeping and tracking. She looked so pale, and far too frail.
When had she gotten so frail?
A little while ago, she’d sent Thomas back to the house for the insurance information she needed, which meant she was alone. Not a new or unusual feeling, but at the moment she felt that solitude bone-deep.
It was terrifying.
Sinking to a chair by the bed, Annie reached for Aunt Gerdie’s hand, which felt too thin and delicate. “Aunt Gerdie?” she whispered, and held her breath. “Can you hear me?”
Nothing, not Aunt Gerdie’s usual smile, not her soft, whispery voice saying “hello, dear,” no reaction at all, and Annie had to swallow hard past the lump in her throat.
“Aunt Gerdie?” She leaned in closer. “You’re going to be fine.” She had to be. “Do you hear me? You’re going to be fine, so you just sleep now, rest up, because tomorrow we’ll be playing gin rummy and laughing over this.”
Dr. Dorn had assured her that there was no apparent sign of heart trouble, the tests looked good, that in all likelihood it had been severe indigestion, but he wanted to keep her overnight for monitoring.
Still, Annie had a terrible fear that this was just the beginning of the end. Just thinking it, her eyes burned, her throat seemed to swell up. She didn’t want anything to happen to Aunt Gerdie. She wanted life to stay just as it had been, the two of them together against the world. She didn’t want to be alone—
Someone gently set a hand on her shoulder, squeezed.
The lump in her throat grew. It was Ian, she knew that before she turned, because only his touch in that moment would have somehow made it okay. “How did you know—”
“Thomas.” He hunkered down beside her chair. “What happened?”
“She collapsed in town,” she whispered, both because she didn’t want to wake her aunt, and because she could hardly talk. “We thought she was having a heart attack.”
He put one hand over hers on Gerdie’s and the other on Annie’s arm. “She’s going to be okay.”
She turned her hand so she could clasp his fingers. “Dr. Dorn doesn’t see any heart trauma, but he’s keeping her overnight to be certain.”
“Oh, there’s nothing wrong with me.” Aunt Gerdie opened her eyes. “He’s just covering his tush.”
“Aunt Gerdie!” Annie leaned over the bed to hug and kiss her. “You’re awake.”
“Well, of course I am, I’m not in a coma. Just taking a snooze. Now…you.” She pointed to Ian. “Take her home and coddle her, she’s an inch from falling apart and needs a strong shoulder—”
“Aunt Gerdie—”
“I won’t have her watching over me all night, young man. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you,” Ian said, and smiled. “You’re looking just fine, Aunt Gerdie.”
“That’s because I am. Now, are you going to take care of my Annie or what?”
“I can take care of myself!”
“Are you?” Aunt Gerdie demanded of Ian.
“I will,” he vowed solemnly.
Annie rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”
“Yes, please. Now, scat, the both of you.” Aunt Gerdie yawned. “I have another nap coming and you’re keeping me from it.”
Leaning in, Ian kissed her. “We’ll be back.”
Then he turned to Annie, and she caught her breath at what she saw in his eyes. “I have my orders,” he said, holding out his hand. “You’re coming with me.”
“But—”
“Don’t let her give you any excuses, Ian,” Aunt Gerdie piped in, sounding suspiciously…healthy.
“No, ma’am.” Ian took Annie’s fingers in his own warm ones, and tugged her up. “Good night, Aunt Gerdie.”
“Good night, dears.”
He shut the door and Annie looked back at it, torn between irritation and insane worry. “She looked okay, didn’t she?”
“She looked alive.”
“Alive is good.”
“Alive is good,” he agreed. “Very good.” He tipped up her head and looked deep into her eyes. “Now, tell me how you’re holding up.”
“I’m…fine—” She laughed when he swore at that word. “I am fine. But now I have to go get this paperwork to the receptionist. I have to call Jenny and check in. I have to…well, a thousand things. But thanks for—”
The words backed up in her throat, because for every step backward she took, he took one forward, and then caught her.
“Look.” She smiled, a little unsteadily. “I’m sorry about that obvious matchmaking in there. You’re not really expected to baby-sit me.”
“It’s not baby-sitting, not when I want to be with you.”
“I…don’t get it.”
“What is there to get, Annie?”
She’d never have pegged the big, bad, sexy man in front of her as a “forever” kind of guy, and yet that’s what Aunt Gerdie was looking to come Annie’s way. He had to know that. “Why aren’t you running for the hills?” she asked, baffled.
“I can’t run, remember?”
He was still just looking at her with those searing eyes, which made her wish someone would crank up the air-conditioning.
How could one man cause so much havoc inside her? Was it that every time she’d needed someone, he’d been there?
Every single time. “I’ve…got to go.”
He held her hands in his, unrelenting and yet so utterly gentle she wanted to fall apart and let him put the pieces back together. “So strong.” He dipped his head to press his lips to her jaw. “No one’s ever really been there for you, have they?”
“Ian—”
His lips slid along her jaw to her ear. “Let me be there for you, Annie.” He pulled back, looked down at her with heart-breaking tenderness.
All she had to do was move a fraction of an inch and line up their mouths. “For how long?”
His eyes never left hers. He didn’t try to hedge or lie or excuse. “For tonight.”
* * *
ANNIE DROVE HOME WITH IAN right behind her. When she pulled up to her house, he cut the engine on the Harley and looked over at her with those eyes that always somehow warmed her from the inside out.
They’d agreed she shouldn’t be alone tonight. That it wasn’t safe.
And that they were going to be together.
Here.
In her own bed.
The tingle spread within her, heating, making her ache in a way she hadn’t ached in…forever.
Ian took off his helmet. He came around and opened her door. His breath made little white clouds in the cold night air, and as he pulled her from the car.
She shivered.
“Cold?”
“Not at all.” She met his heated gaze and shivered again. Slowly, right there between the bike and the car, with the black night all around, he drew her close.
She buried her face in the crook of his neck, where it was warm and smelled like heaven. He pressed his lips to her temple, and for a long moment they stood like that, embracing, not saying a word.
“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you about my job sooner,” he said, and she understood he was trying to offer her an apology. That he knew she needed something from him, something more, and that he wanted to give it to her now made her ache all the more.
She lifted her face, smiled into his eyes. “I’ll forgive you. If…”
“If?”
“If you dance with me. Right here, right now.”
“It’s late.”
“Yes.”
“It’s cold.
”
“So?”
“Okay, you should know. I hate to dance.”
When she just looked at him, he sighed. “You’re crazy, you know that? We’re out here like sitting ducks—”
Boldly, shamelessly, she arched into his body, and the enticing bulge between his thighs.
With a groan, he lowered his face and brushed his lips over hers, upping the heat. “Why, Annie?”
“Why not?” She tossed back her face and felt night surround them. “It feels good. It feels right.” She smiled and brought her mouth back to his. “And because you make me feel just a little bit reckless, Ian McCall.”
His hands tightened on her as he slowly began to move with her, entwined, close, dancing on the gravel of the driveway.
Everything within her sighed. He hated to dance, but for her he was doing it. She was incredibly moved, and flung her arms around his neck.
“I hope to God you’re going to show me some more of that recklessness,” he growled in her ear, still swaying with her, body to body, face to face.
“Oh, yes,” she promised, and pulled his head down for a hot, long, wet kiss. “Lots more.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SHE TOOK HIM INSIDE, led him silently to her bedroom, which was lit only by the reflection of the brilliant night sky outside the window.
Ian looked down into Annie’s face and felt his heart tighten. Her long, dark hair was down, her face glowing. Her eyes smoldered with desire, and as he watched, her lips parted in invitation.
With a groan, he dipped his head and took them again. He’d already kissed her tonight, over and over, and though normally he’d be chomping at the bit to get at the rest of the action, he could have kissed her all damn night.
He had decisions to make, work to think about, a life to get to, and yet here with her tongue touching his, he discovered that none of that mattered. He opened his mouth wider, and she did, too, in an act of unconscious acquiescence that was irresistible. Utterly seduced, his body coming to life with every glide of her restless fingers, he knew this was going to be a night to remember. A night he’d think about when he was deep in a new case, lonely and on the edge. He’d think about this and know that for one moment in time, he’d been truly loved.
She let out a sound tight with need and longing, and still kissing her, he filled a hand with her breast. Fascinated by the soft fullness, he rasped his thumb over her nipple, and it beaded even tighter. Indulging his blazing need, he opened the buttons of her blouse and slid the material down her arms to her elbows, catching her limbs at her side. Lifting his gaze, he met hers while he slowly let her bra straps fall as well.
