by Denise Agnew
“Hey,” Andy said. “I’ve got nothing on the phone. She’d be better off changing her number.”
“Some carriers take a while to get the number changed over.”
“True.”
“And he could still find a way to get her number.”
“True again. Still, something to make it harder for him to bother her,” Andy said. “Have you guys told the cops he’s stalking her?”
“No. We don’t have any proof.”
“Go with your gut then. If this guy has done it twice, it’s sure as hell certain he’s going to do it a third time.”
Dylan’s resolve hardened. “I know.”
After they finished the conversation, he gave the news to Terra. She didn’t look too pleased.
“Change my phone number? What I want to know is how he got it in the first place. I changed my number when I got here.”
“There are a lot of ways for him to get your number. But if you don’t want to change the number, don’t. He knows where you live. If he plans to keep harassing you, changing your number isn’t going to change that much.”
She stared at the game board, and the sadness on her face made him want to gather her up in his arms and remind her that he’d make sure she was safe.
“We can go to the police and make out a report about the harassment,” he said.
She shook her head. “No. It won’t do any good.”
He almost tried to convince her differently, but he understood her reluctance. “You’re sure?”
“For now. Yes. Okay, let’s finish this game.”
Obviously she didn’t plan to allow the situation to get her down. Or at the very least she didn’t plant to show it.
Terra woke from a deep sleep the next morning and couldn’t remember where she was until she smelled coffee.
Board games. Dylan. Coffee.
Between each of those thoughts came a reaction. Board games brought on memories of the enormous amount of fun she’d experienced playing these games with Dylan. She’d learned a lot about him, including that he could also play a wicked game of chess. So did she, though, so they’d battled it out. She lost the first game of chess and he’d won the second. Despite their competitiveness it had never come across as real aggression, and he hadn’t seemed pissed off because a woman had bested him at something. He’d laughed and congratulated her whenever she won.
Dylan himself…each hour she’d spent with him had brought one new revelation after the other. He loved sci-fi movies and books, and so did she, though he wasn’t particularly fond of chick flicks. His politics were moderate, and so were hers. Everything about him seemed open and heart-felt, and the blew her away. She sensed he had more depths, though, and she expected that. Few people could, would, or should reveal too much about themselves on short notice. Only one thing bothered her. She knew he hid something about himself, a little segment she thought came from secret shame. It made her itch because the noisy-as-hell part of her wanted to understand. The therapist in her, she realized, wanted to pick at it until he told her.
Because despite his transparency, the suspicious part of her remembered that Allan had seemed like that when she’d first met him, too. Granted, back then she’d been a young girl and had blown off her intuition, the part of her that had warned her over and over that Allan wasn’t genuine. With Dylan she felt down deep he wasn’t anything like Allan. Fear, though, didn’t relent. She hadn’t been as open with him.
And the coffee…well, she was awake now.
Despite her yearning for coffee, she climbed out of bed and went straight to the bathroom to grab a shower. A short time later she arrived in the living room with damp hair, dressed, and with light makeup on.
Dylan sat at the dining table with a cup of coffee and writing in his journal. He wore nothing but his jeans. In those few seconds she couldn’t tear her gaze from his ripped torso. Broad, muscled shoulders, strong biceps and forearms. A light dusting of dark hair over toned pecs. Her gaze snagged on his great abs. God, he was mouthwatering. A delicious man wrapped in a fantastic package. She didn’t want to find him this damn desirable, but at the same time she couldn’t lie to herself. He was hot, kind, highly-intelligent, and sexy as hell.
And she wanted him.
When he looked up, his eyes were haunted.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“You’re sure?”
“That the therapist asking?”
She smiled, but it felt weak. “Yes. And the friend.”
He nodded. “Sometimes, when I write in my journal it makes me feel sad before it makes me feel better.”
Half afraid of where this conversation would go, she went into the kitchen and grabbed her coffee.
As she stirred cream into her mug, she said, “So it does make you feel better?”
“Yeah. I can say things to this book I won’t say to another human.”
“You don’t let anyone read it?”
He chest rose and fell on a deep breath. “I might let you.”
Her mouth popped open, surprised. “You would?”
He rose from the table slowly, journal in hand. As he walked around the table and came closer, her breath caught. He stopped nearby, so close she could feel his heat. They had little personal space between them, and her body pinged with arousal. She drew in a breath and dared meet his gaze. Naked attraction filled his eyes. It was the look of a man who wanted her in the deepest way possible. What would it be like to kiss him? Heat swirled low in her stomach, and the draw toward him made her abandon the coffee cup in favor of lightly touching his left forearm. For those few moments, she abandoned all precaution in favor of appeasing the driving curiosity inside her. She wanted…no she had to discover his kiss.
“Terra…”
He leaned forward slightly, and she did the same, wanting his mouth on hers with sudden hunger. He cupped the back of her neck, drew her toward him. Her eyelids fluttered closed as his mouth touched hers. Warm. Soft. Exquisitely gentle. Not demanding. Asking and searching. That heat in her belly expanded, reaching lower until it pulsed. Oh, my God. Feels so good. She touched his chest, fingers splaying over that incredible expanse of muscle. Her mouth tingled, as if their kiss was fueled by something electrical.
Her cell phone rang and she jerked. He released her quickly, stepping back. Her heart slammed in her chest, and she reached for the phone. A different number but still without an identifying name.
“Don’t answer,” Dylan said.
“Right.”
She regained her senses and returned the phone to the countertop. After a few rings it cut off. She held her breath.
“You okay?” he asked, touching her shoulder.
“Waiting to see if there’s voicemail.”
The voicemail chimed.
“Damn,” he said.
She played it back, speaker on. Allan’s voice came over the line. “Hey Terra. You really must think I’m dumb. I know where you are. You can’t escape. You think that boyfriend you’ve got living with you can protect you? You don’t know shit. If you agree now to come with me, to go away with me, your worries will be over. We’ll be together forever.”
The call dropped.
Her breath caught. “He’s raising the stakes. I think his idea of be together forever is some twisted thing. Maybe even that we’ll be dead together.”
When their eyes met this time, the sizzle in Dylan’s eyes had turned to concern and anger.
“Yeah.” He shoved his hands through his hair, making a mess of it. “We need to take these messages to the cops. At least get it down on paper.”
She sighed. “It didn’t work before.”
“I know. But we need to make this official. We’ll also hit the grocery store again. I’m eating you out of house and home. I also need to bring in more clothes if I’m going to be staying here long term.”
Their gazes locked again, and the sizzle returned, traveling all over her body. She could see it in
his eyes. He wanted more. The heat between them had banked for now, but it hadn’t escaped entirely. He squeezed her shoulder gently and stepped away.
“Think about it. I’ll get a shower,” he said quietly.
She watched him walk away, delicious shivers making her wish he’d turn around and come back. Her imagination leapt forward to deeper kisses, to caresses she had a feeling would set her on fire. God, the man already set her aflame and he’d only shared a gentle kiss with her. Caution also emerged. This so wasn’t what she expected or wanted. She hadn’t said okay to him being a bodyguard so they could hook up. She really liked him as a person, but then she’d liked Allan Rivers when she’d first met him. She’d thought Allan was something special. With that idea in mind, she shut down an idea of a deeper relationship with Dylan.
On top of her attraction to Dylan came a new worry. Allan was out there ready to hurt her, and it would only be a matter time before he made a move. Dylan and other people might be hurt if that happened. Dread filled her.
Chapter Eight
“Combat isn’t always the way people think it is. It’s faster, harsher, and if people are honest with themselves, absolutely terrifying. One time I remember feeling my heart beat with these weird, slow thuds while missiles came down on our FOB. It was the strangest sensation I’d experienced. For a few minutes I lost my breath, and that’s when I understood what real fear felt like. Even with walls and other precautions keeping us safe, there’s no way you can plan for every last contingency. And when you do, there’s still no guarantee you’ll be safe.”
Journal of Dylan Westcott.
Dylan threw a worried glare at Terra as they parked in the grocery store parking lot. Her face held a stone cold expression he’d never seen on her before. They’d grabbed some clothes for him at his apartment, but Terra had stayed unusually silent the whole way. He understood, or at least he thought he did. What Rivers did with that last call upped the stakes. He wanted Terra to report this to the police, but he couldn’t force her to do anything. All he could do is protect her with everything inside him.
And maybe there was another reason why she’d turned cooler. That kiss.
He turned off the car and looked at her. She met his gaze but quickly looked away.
“You all right?” he asked.
She tried a half smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“So good that you’ve been staring off into space this whole trip and have barely said two words the whole time.”
She barely glanced at him. “Sorry.”
He swallowed hard and decided he needed to say something. Now or never. “It’s okay. Look, there’s something I’ve gotta say.”
She turned her attention to him, looking curious this time.
“I didn’t mean to make things awkward between us…earlier,” he said.
Her lips parted, perhaps surprised. “It was a mistake. I mean…it isn’t a good idea.”
He let that soak in a moment and tried not to feel a sting at the word mistake. “Maybe not a good idea, but if I’m honest with myself, I don’t regret it.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Look, I’m a straight up man. I don’t play games with women. Never have, never will. I didn’t plan any of this when we met the other day.”
“Neither did I.”
He waited, saw the thoughts cogitating through her mind.
She unhooked her seatbelt and turned toward him. “Where does that leave us?”
Momentarily unsure about blurting out all of his thoughts, he hesitated. Yeah, fool. You just said you’re a straight up man. Spill it.
“I kissed you because you’re kind, funny, amazing, and sexy. And probably one of the strongest women I’ve met.”
Her eyes widened yet again, as if she couldn’t quite believe he’d just said that. “Thank you.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “It isn’t flattery. It’s what I believe. When I made it through the war, I vowed that if I was attracted to a woman, she was going to know it. But I also know I’m a flawed person. A flawed person with a lot of work to do. Like get my act together, hire on as the emergency medical tech instructor, and find my place in the normal world. I don’t expect a woman to put up with all my shit. So just because I kissed you doesn’t mean I’m going to expect anything from you. Please don’t be afraid or pressured, okay?”
He took a long, slow breath and waited for her reaction.
The curiosity and surprise faded from her face, replaced by a smile. “That wasn’t what I expected you to say at all, but now that you’ve said it, I’m not surprised.”
His eyebrows went up. “Translate?”
She shook her head. “Gah! I’m messing this all up. What I mean is…I’ve never met a guy like you. One that has just come out and said what he was thinking like that. Who didn’t play games.” She shrugged. “But then after Allan I didn’t do much dating. And for the record, I don’t think you’re that flawed.”
“Wait until you see me try to grill a steak someday.”
She laughed softly. “Okay, you’re flawed. But don’t you see, the fact you’re willing to own up to not being perfect…that’s a huge plus in my book.” Color heightened in her face. “As for the kiss, it took me off guard.”
“Sorry.”
“No, please don’t be.”
Renewed heat grew in his gut and down to his groin. God, the woman was gonna drive him crazy.
“It wasn’t just you,” she continued.
Relief steadied him. “You kissed me back but—”
“I wanted more.” She touched his forearm. “That’s the truth.”
His body ignited, and he craved more than anything to pull her into his arms.
“You can rely on me, Terra. No matter what happens in our personal relationship, I’m not going to let you down. You can trust me.”
She sighed, and his worry returned in a heartbeat.
“When I was with Allan in early days, just a teen, he used to say he’d never let me go. For me, a man saying he isn’t going to let me go isn’t caring about me.”
He put his hand over the one touching his forearm. “You know me better than that. I’m not Rivers, and I would never treat you the way he has.” He took a deep breath and just spilled it. “Look, I’m not gonna sugarcoat things, okay? What I feel for you right now…I’m feeling a little possessive. Not because I think I own you, or have a right to your friendship, to sex, to anything like that. Because I just really, really care about you and the thought of anyone, of Rivers hurting you…it tears me up. That probably sounds crazy because I haven’t known you that long. But it’s the truth. And these days, I’m all about laying it on the table.”
Her eyes widened. “Wow.”
“Wow? Is that a good wow or a bad wow?”
“I don’t…” She shook her head. “You’re blowing me away here.”
It had probably been too much information, too soon. So part of him regretted blurting it out, but another part of him didn’t.
She nodded, but he wasn’t convinced she believed him. He couldn’t put a bandage on this. Either she trusted him or she didn’t. When she released his forearm, he felt the withdrawal keenly.
He couldn’t let it end here, uncertain and unfinished. “You know, when I went through P.J. indoctrination, I got up each day wondering if I was going to make it.”
“Indoctrination?”
“The training to prove whether you can even be Pararescue. Everyone goes into the training determined, but things can happen. Injuries, you name it. The dropout rate is over eighty percent. At least it was when I went through. We’re special operations and part medical trauma care. Part soldier, and sort of part doctor. A man doesn’t get through that training without a spirit of never giving up. It doesn’t matter if I’m attracted to you now or if I wasn’t. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe, no matter what. Even if you hated my guts right now, I’d keep you safe.”
Her dark eyes warmed, although he th
ought he saw sadness in there, too. “I know intellectually you’re nothing like Allan. I’m just...” She drew in a deep breath and let it out. Silence widened before she said, “We should keep this professional.”
While he agreed with her one hundred percent, the craving inside him didn’t care, didn’t want to follow logic or common sense. He fucking wanted her with a deep down instinct. Yet he refused to push her into anything she didn’t want, no matter what he felt. Too much, too far, too fast had never been a wise move for anything in his life. Anything that happened between them, from this point forward, would have to come from her.
Before she could say anything else, he lifted her hand to his mouth. He kissed the back of it.
“Friends,” he said.
She smiled and squeezed his hand. “Friends.”
“Let’s get those groceries.”
As they left his car, he kept her close and tried to ignore the underlying disappointment that he had to keep a relationship with her professional. Distant. Grow up, Westcott. Stay sharp.
He scanned the parking lot, determined not to lose his edge. But you did lose it, remember? That’s why you aren’t in Delta anymore.
They snagged a cart outside of the store and before long they’d traversed the entire grocery store with no problems. Shopping with her was easy—she didn’t linger long. With a list she made quick and efficient selections, just like he did when shopping. He could see that she’d relaxed, but he kept his attention on their surroundings. No sign of Rivers, at least as she’d described him. She hadn’t kept any photos, and he couldn’t blame her. Who would want a memory of that dirtbag lingering in a photo album?
