Chris's head swiveled from Dylan to Cassidy, his lips turned up in a half smile. “I'll be damned, Black. She loves you, too.”
The color leeched from Dylan's face at the same time she heard herself gasp. “You love me?” she managed to choke out.
“I do,” he answered, his golden eyes boring a hole in his friend. “I didn't want to rush you, and after dinner...” he trailed off.
“You knew I wasn't ready for it.” She retreated down the hallway, unable to respond further. She'd meant what she said—she wouldn't leave him, and she was smart enough to know she'd have to deal with everything else soon. She'd think about love, or lust, or whatever after they caught the crazy who wanted her dead. At least, she thought this guy wanted her dead.
After Mason's abduction by someone she'd called a friend, she wasn't ruling anything out, but she hadn't been threatened directly, had she? He had blown up Blue, killed Judge Simmons. She blew out a breath. Killing the judge didn't bode too well for her own existence, but she had to hold onto the hope that he wanted to terrorize her but not kill her, and he wouldn't kill Dylan to get to her. If she let herself think about what was more likely the truth, she'd lose her head, and she refused to let that happen.
She sighed. She wished she could call Mason, talk this over with him, but he was in Australia with Kat, and she wasn't going to interrupt their honeymoon with her issues. They were gone another three weeks, and hopefully this would all be behind her before they made it back. It was all she could do to get them on a plane after the incident at the cafe, and even then they'd left her with implicit directions to call if she needed them. How could her overprotective banker of a brother and his dance instructor wife help in this situation? She sat on the bed and let out another long sigh. Maybe she needed a bodyguard. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she thought. No, that's not what she wanted. She wrapped her arms around herself and fell back against the coverlet, admitting something to herself she wasn't ready to say to anyone else. All she needed was Dylan.
~*~
“What the hell, man?” Dylan gritted between clenched teeth. He knew she wasn't ready for an honest to God declaration of love, and now Chris had done it for him. He just hoped she didn't retreat behind her ass-kicking prosecutor mask and shut him out.
Chris shrugged, spots of color evident on his cheeks. “I didn't know she didn't know.”
He shook his head. “She doesn't know what she knows. She's used to being the strong one, the one who holds everythin' together for everyone else. Now she's got this asshole on her tail. She's not ready to deal with me and my shit. She's just barely allowed herself to care more about me than a passin' bodyguard.
Chris's dark eyes widened. “You love her.”
“We've established this.”
“No, you really love her. Like give your life for her, love her.”
He stared at his friend. Anything less wasn't love. “I love her.”
“What the hell is going on?” Chris asked, his hands flying around.
“Your Italian is showin',” Dylan remarked to diffuse whatever situation Chris was worried about.
“Whatever.” He paced around the living room. “First Caufield, then Jase, and now you? Should I be worried? Running away from women?”
Chris had lost his mind. “What's wrong with fallin' in love?”
“Nothing, in theory. And your women are great, all of them, really, it's just...” He stopped himself and Dylan didn't question it. He and Chris had talked enough for him to know his ex Monica had done a number on him, ultimately causing him to leave Chicago and find his way back to his family and Aylesford. Still, he couldn't believe the man was standing in his house telling him he shouldn't be in love with Cassie.
“Look, Chris, I don't much care what you think, but I do need you to find whoever is doin' this. That's all. Find him, stop him, make him pay. The rest will work itself out.”
~*~
Cassidy watched the attractive blonde therapist put Dylan through his paces. She had to admit he didn't need the sling any longer, and was probably more than capable of driving as well, yet he'd made no mention of sending her back to her own home, and she'd made no requests to go back either. It was more workout than what she thought physical therapy was, but then again she'd never been shot or even broken a bone. She lived life inside where she was safe, her only danger coming from the criminals she helped bring to justice. She shuddered. She might've been safe before, but she surely wasn't now.
She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on the muscled man before her when she opened them again. The sweat glistening off his sculpted body made her tingle, and she wished they were alone. Instead of voicing her thoughts, she said, “Don't kill yourself out there, Dylan.”
“I only torture him three times a week,” the therapist said through a giggle. “I promise not to kill him.”
“I'm not so easy to kill,” Dylan gritted through an exercise, and she sent a thank you heavenward for that fact. If he had died protecting Mason, she wouldn't be sitting here watching a pretty blonde put her hands all over him, and she wouldn't be feeling slightly jealous. She bit her lip. She couldn't really be jealous of the therapist, could she? “I'm glad of that,” she replied. “I'd like to keep you around for a long time,” she went on, her voice as husky as she could manage. She hoped she sounded sexy and not like an old woman.
Dylan's chuckle made her believe she'd missed the mark. “You want to keep me around for what, exactly?” he asked, his labored tone laced with sex.
Unable to resist, she bantered back, “To satisfy my every need.”
The therapist choked on laugh. “Well, then.” She blushed from the top of her head down under her scrub top and Cassidy held in her own laugh. The blonde, Haleigh was her name, turned back to Dylan to tell him she'd see him later in the week before sending him to towel off. Pitching her voice low, the therapist warned, “Don't let him overestimate his recovery. I know he thinks he's healed, and he's in much, much better shape than he was a few weeks ago, he's not ready for prime time.”
“He looks good to me,” Cassidy replied before she thought it through.
Haleigh's hand flew up to cover her mouth as she tried and failed to hold back her knowing chuckle. “Seems the feeling is mutual. You two could burn down a building.”
She'd heard that about them before, especially after Mason and Kat's reception. She felt her own blush creep up and said the first thing that came to mind. “He's a pretty amazing man.”
Haleigh smiled, the affect on her face astonishing. She was a naturally beautiful woman, and Cassidy wasn't sure she liked her hands on Dylan three times a week, no matter what she'd just said. “I don't disagree. He has worked hard to get this far in such a short time.”
“Talkin' about me?” Dylan asked from across the room, and Cassidy's heart sped up. She gave herself a mental smack. She had to stop acting like she was sixteen around this man.
“Of course,” she answered with a smile. She looked over Haleigh's shoulder to him and was immediately snared in his golden gaze. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to break free. She'd watched him work for two hours, and he looked wrung out. “Why do you push yourself so hard?”
He lifted a brow. “Gotta keep you safe.”
“That's all?” This was all about her? She knew he had to be bored following her around all day, and she wondered if his financial situation was stable since he hadn't worked in more than a month, yet his only reason, his only motivation was to keep her safe? He said he loved her. Was she ready to be the center of his life, could she reciprocate and be what he needed, what she knew he wanted? She watched as he studied her, and felt like squirming.
He took a step toward her, loosely grasping her upper arm and pulling her to him. “There's nothin' more important,” he promised before he dropped a kiss on her lips.
She sank into the kiss, realizing two things. He really felt there was nothing in his life more important than protecting her, and he would die to
save her if necessary. Her breath caught in her throat and she pulled away from him. She stared at him for long beats, but words just wouldn't come. Swallowing, she turned to give a small wave to Haleigh. “See you Friday,” she said quietly and made her way out the door.
~*~
“I think I need to go home. Without you,” she said when they had reached the Bronco. He opened his mouth to argue and she kept talking. “I feel...” she took a breath. “Things are so scary now, and I think the danger is escalating my need for you.”
She was thinking too much again. “You are a brilliant woman, but you're bein' stupid,” he stated plainly. “You're scared and you're pushin' me away because of it.” He knew he was right, but he also knew she wasn't backing down. Something had changed in the few minutes before they left the hospital, and he wasn't sure what it was.
“I'm scared of leading you on,” she answered, her chin thrust up. “I need to go home.” At his glare she went on, “I'll hire someone, take on police protection, but I need to be away from you.”
Ouch. He loved her, she knew it, yet she'd just said that. “For how long?”
She focused on the sky, not speaking to him directly. “I don't know. Until I figure out what I'm doing, what I feel, what I need. You are...”
He waited as she thought for a word, his mind racing. She was off-balance, thrown by her feelings for him, scared of him, of herself. In a perfect world, he could let her run from him for a little while, but not with her life in the balance. “I am what?”
“Overwhelming, sexy as hell, distracting, putting yourself in danger because of me.” Her words came out in a jumble, her hands flying as she spoke.
He held back a smile at her description of him, but he couldn't let her go home, no matter what she wanted. “I will try to be less distractin' or overwhelmin' or whatnot, but I will not let you risk your life because you're afraid to face your emotions, Cassie.”
She stomped her foot, her beautiful mouth compressed into a hard line, her brows drawn together. “Dammit, Dylan, I can't do this.”
Can't do what? He needed a scorecard to keep up with this woman. “What?”
“I can't leave you.” She leaned against the door of the Bronco, refusing to look at him. “I should—I know I should—but I can't.” She took a breath, but he didn't have time to repeat himself before she barreled on. “What if he kills you to get to me? What if you're shot again, but this time you're not so lucky? What if—”
He cut her off with his mouth. He didn't want to play “What if,” he wanted to show her how he felt. He poured every bit of emotion into the kiss, backing her against the truck door, reveling in the feel of her beneath both hands. She had been trying to protect him by pushing him away, and while it wasn't smart in the slightest, it was endearing. She might be unsure, she might not have any idea how much she cared, but he did. He tore his mouth from hers to leave a trail of kisses down her neck. “Stop thinkin' so much and just feel, Cassie. What do you feel?”
Her hand reached out to rest on his erection through his shorts, caressing him and making his knees shake. “I feel something I want,” she panted. “Something I need.”
He pulled her closer to him, lifting her away from the door he desperately needed open. “Can you do it here?” he asked, his whisper coming out like a growl. She couldn't acknowledge her feelings when she was thinking, but she had no trouble when he was deep inside her. Right now he needed to feel her shatter around him, hear her chant his name, tell him to never stop, public parking lots be damned.
“Anywhere,” she answered, her voice cracking in desperation.
That was the only invitation he needed. He threw the door open to pull her into the truck with him, quickly settling into the passenger seat and setting her astride him. She rocked against him frantically and he was grateful for the shade of the maple tree she'd parked under and the dress she'd worn to take him to PT. With no preamble, he shoved his shorts and boxers down, slid her panties aside, and drove home.
He held her hips as he slammed into her over and over again, his right hand burning from overuse, her whimpers making him crazy. “What do you feel?” he repeated when her body shook with her climax, her breath coming out in pants.
“Love,” she answered.
He crushed his mouth to hers, absorbing the love radiating from her along with her moans and pleas. He drove into her more fiercely, forcing another climax from her before he found his own release, his “I love you,” whispered into her hair.
Chapter Eight
Chris went back through the files, sure he'd missed something, but not at all sure what it was. “Jase, we've got to be overlooking something here,” he said in exasperation as he shoved the folder at his partner.
Jason shook his head, his light blue eyes dull with lack of sleep. “Shit, Chris, if I knew what it was, we'd be investigating it, not sitting here in the middle of the night tossing paper around.”
As much as it pained him, he forced himself to say, “Maybe we should call Davis,” causing Jason to bark a clipped, “No,” before he even finished the sentence. He held up a hand. “Hear me out. I'm just as pissed about the McClaren shit too, but fresh eyes are fresh eyes.”
“His jaundiced eyes will not fucking help,” Jason growled and Chris slid his chair a few inches away. Jason Monroe was a champion grudge-holder, and while he understood his feelings and hated Davis almost as much as his friend, business, justice, and truth had to take precedence.
“Maybe not, but Tiffany—Officer Morgan, I mean—will have a good perspective. We're running into walls here, and I for one don't want to deal with another unsolved murder.”
“You don't want Dylan to beat the shit out of you,” Jason countered.
No one would want to deal with Dylan if something happened to Cassidy. “What if Adrienne was being stalked? Would you accept help then?” Jason's face blanched, and Chris knew he had hit the right nerve. “Imagine your friend was the one investigating the stalker, a stalker you were sure had committed at least one murder. Now pretend that friend turned down help because of a personal problem—”
“Enough!” Jason cut him off. “Fine. Call Davis, but don't turn your back on him. Get Officer Morgan to help you with the research.” He gave Chris a cold stare. “And keep your dick in your pants.”
She was hot, but he'd only talked to her for five minutes. “Not a problem, Jase.”
“Right. I'm sure Tiffany will understand,” Jason scoffed. “I know you better than that.”
Whoa. He was never hurting for a date, but he wasn't indiscriminate. “I only just met her, man. I'm not seeing her.”
“You seem a little overeager to have her help.”
“I just want someone who can help.” He gave Jason a stern look. “Quit worrying about me and my dick, Jase.”
Jason blinked, shook his head. “We have other things to do.”
“Too much.”
~*~
“Cassie, wake up, your phone is buzzin',” Dylan whispered, the offending piece of technology dwarfed by his large hand.
Her chocolate eyes fluttered open. “What time?” she started, stopping mid-sentence to snatch the phone from his fingers, stab at the screen, and pin it to her ear. “Mom? What's wrong?”
He listened to her side of the conversation, his mind running scenarios. Good things were never reported with three am phone calls. Cassidy was agitated, asking about her parents, Caleb, and even Camryn. When she finally dropped the phone on the bed, he asked, “What happened?”
“My parent's house is on fire,” she answered. “They're okay, but...” She collapsed against her pillow. “My parents, Dylan. He's targeted my parents now, and I can't help but think Caleb could be next.” She threw her head back, thumping against the headboard. “He won't leave, his patients always come first.”
“We'll just have to get him protected, then.”
“How?” She sprung from the bed, her nudity either forgotten or unimportant, and he had to force himself
to focus on the conversation instead of her beauty. “Why is everyone I love in danger? What did I do to bring it to their doorstep?”
“Your job, darlin', just your job.” He slid from the bed himself then to wrap his arms around her. “He's tryin' to mess with your head, make you crazy.”
She dropped her head against his chest. “He's succeeding.”
“You're not crazy, you're strong. Stronger than you know.” He kissed the top of her head. We need to get dressed and find our way over there.”
“We need to protect them,” she said against his chest, her voice muffled, and he kissed her hair again. He wanted to tuck her away forever, bundle her up, keep her safe, but knew she'd never let him. Instead, he had to protect her family, keep them out of harm's way. “We'll put them in a safe house, send them on a cruise, shuttle them to Paris. I promise I won't let anythin' happen to them.” He didn't usually promise things he wasn't sure he could deliver, but Cassie was faltering. He kicked himself for not thinking about her family—he should have known they would be targeted, he should've secured their homes, brought in protection, hired extra help. He'd been so preoccupied with her he had failed her. “We'll take care of them.”
“Thank you,” she said as she pulled from his arms to rummage through drawers, clothes flying as she dug.
The sight of her bent over a drawer in his bedroom, searching through his clothes to find her own stopped his thoughts for a moment. This was where she belonged, he just had to convince her of that. “Why don't we go away too? Get away from here, from him, before he kills you?”
“He won't kill me,” she stated as she strapped herself into a bra.
“No?”
“No. He'll try to kill me, but you won't let him.” She collapsed against the bed. “He'll kill you. He wants me to suffer.”
He almost took heart in her saying him dying would make her suffer, but thought better of it, instead scooping her into his arms. “No one is killin' either one of us, Cassie. Not now and not ever.” He kissed her gently. “We're gonna live to a ripe old age, and bicker then too.”
Fight For Me Page 8
