“Carter thinks he’ll be okay.”
He touched her cheek, his thumb stroking gently. “I’m glad. Sorry I took so long. Harley and I were searching for more evidence, but in the dark...” He shrugged and lifted Otis into the truck. “He’ll search again in the morning. I suppose it would be asking too much to find a handkerchief with initials embroidered in the corner.”
Brooke laughed, feeling almost lighthearted. Knowing her dog would survive was making her giddy. Women were dead, her friend was missing, and a madman was quite possibly stalking her, but Otis looked at her through trusting brown eyes. That had to count for something.
“Embroidered handkerchiefs? Seriously? What type of books do you read in your spare time?”
Smiling, he turned out of the driveway. “Once when I was sick with the flu, June gave me a stack of romance novels. What can I say? I was tired of watching TV.”
She opened her mouth to answer, and shut it. Frowning, she pointed. “What the heck is Caroline doing walking alone at night?”
Dillon pulled to the side of the road and rolled down his window. Thunder rumbled in the distance. “Can we give you a ride?”
Pushing her long hair over her shoulder when it blew in her face, she stepped off the sidewalk and crossed to the truck. “No thanks, I’m meeting Elliott.” She smiled at Brooke. “What are you two doing out this late in the evening?”
“My dog ate some poisoned meat, and we took him to Carter to pump out his stomach.”
Her eyes widened. “Is he okay?”
“I think so, but it was touch and go for a while.”
“That’s horrible. Did he dig in someone’s trash?”
“We think it was given to him deliberately.” Dillon’s words rang in the ensuing silence.
Caroline’s hand shook as she raised it to her lips. “Why would someone do such a thing?”
“Maybe to lure Brooke into the woods. If I hadn’t gone to see what she was doing—” A muscle at the side of his jaw ticked. “Anyway, you shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”
“I had dinner with a friend. Elliot was going to drive me home afterward, but he’s late. I called his house. When he didn’t answer, I figured he was on his way. I felt kind of silly sitting around the diner by myself, so I decided to walk.”
“Try his cell. If he doesn’t answer, we’ll drop you off.”
She nodded, then glanced up as headlights appeared in the distance. “Maybe that’s him.”
The car approached slowly and stopped. The driver’s side window of the green sedan lowered. The headlights reflected off Elliot’s glasses, and he raised his hand to shield his eyes. “Hi, honey, sorry I’m late. I was grading math tests and lost track of time.”
“Not a problem.” Caroline hurried around to the passenger door.
Before she climbed in, Dillon called, “Please, don’t walk alone at night, even for a few blocks. Until they catch this guy—”
“I won’t. I should have known better and stayed at the diner. Thanks for stopping, Dillon.”
“You bet.” He raised his window and drove away.
“I hate this,” Brooke said.
He glanced over. “What?”
“Living in constant fear. Always looking over my shoulder. Being afraid to walk in my own back yard, for God’s sake!” Letting out a long breath, she tried to steady her jumping nerves. “It has to end.”
He laid his hand on her thigh and squeezed. “Until it does, I’m sleeping at your house. No objections.”
Resting her head against the seat back, she studied his profile. The tight line of his lips and clenched jaw told her arguing would be futile. Not that she wanted to.
He parked in his own driveway but followed her across the yard. “Let me see if Zack needs anything, and I’ll bring over a change of clothes and a toothbrush.”
She paused at the foot of the porch stairs, waiting while Otis climbed them. His weight shifted unsteadily from one paw to the next. “What, no jammies?”
Grabbing her from behind, he pulled her tight against his chest. “Feeling pretty cocky knowing you’re so well chaperoned?”
Her breath caught. “Grandma said you could sleep in my room.”
“You’re kidding?”
She turned in his arms. “Nope.”
His sigh stirred her hair. “Every part of me wants to take you up on that offer.”
“Some parts more than others?”
Smiling, he brushed a loose strand of hair off her cheek. “But it would confuse Zack.”
“I know.” She leaned against him for a moment before stepping away. “We should go inside. Otis needs to lie down, and that wind feels like rain.”
“In a minute.” He caught her face in his hands and stepped close. His lips lowered, brushing across hers. “You know I care, right?”
She nodded, reached up, and stroked the hair at the back of his neck. A sudden rush of tears filled her eyes. Too many emotions swirled inside her. Fierce love for this man and insidious fear clashed. She wasn’t sure what scared her more, the madman waiting somewhere in the dark or the thought of Dillon walking away. A shiver slithered down her spine.
“You okay?”
She kissed him. “I will be as long as you communicate what you’re feeling. Don’t shut me out.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know you are. Will you get angry if I prod you now and then when I see the walls going up?”
“Nope.”
She sighed. “Maybe I’m a little paranoid, but after Gavin blindsided me—”
“I won’t do that. I swear.” His lips caressed hers, stealing her breath. “At the very least, I hope you don’t have any doubts about my sexual preference.”
She smiled and pressed her face into his neck. “On that point, you’ve been perfectly clear.”
“Or that I find you incredibly hot and absolutely amazing. Once this is over, and I’m not feeling like a chunk of firewood splintered into kindling...”
“We’re all waiting for the axe to fall. The whole town will be on blood pressure meds if this doesn’t end soon.”
Drops of rain spattered against her face, and thunder rumbled, closer now.
“Storm’s here,” he said.
“Yes, it is.”
Taking her hand, he pulled her up the stairs into the shelter of the house.
****
Dillon slid out of bed and tugged the covers up over Zack. Sleeping with his son was nothing short of torture. The boy kicked and jerked like a prize rodeo bull. He’d get more sleep on the couch. After pulling on his jeans, he closed the door softly behind him and padded barefoot into the hall. Brooke’s door was open a crack. Welcoming.
He hesitated, knowing he should head straight to the front parlor. Instead, he gave the door a push and saw her outlined beneath the comforter in the dim light from the hall. She slept on her side, the curve of her hip tempting him into the room. Silky hair spilled across her pillow, hiding her face. With one finger he pushed it back, stroked her cheek with a butterfly touch. His heart pounded painfully in his chest.
Dropping his jeans on the carpet, he slid beneath the covers. Incredible heat, soft, soft skin, long silken legs... She wore nothing but a thin cotton T-shirt and a pair of panties. He groaned as he gathered her into his arms.
“Dillon?” His name was indistinct, her mouth pressed against his chest.
“Do you have many midnight visitors?”
He felt her lips curve in a smile. “Occasionally Otis joins me.”
His arms tightened around her. “You’re comparing me to a dog?”
“He’s furrier, and his kisses tend to be wet and sloppy.”
He tilted her face and kissed her, a long slow caress that drained all the blood straight to his groin.
Her voice was breathless when she pulled back a fraction of an inch. “I don’t feel like kicking you off the bed.”
“Thank God because it just might kill me.” His hands slid beneath her T-shirt and
caressed her breasts. Her nipples pebbled between his fingers. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”
“It goes both ways.”
Her knee slid up his thigh, torturing him when it stopped just short of—
She moaned long and low. “Oh, God, that feels so good.”
Pulling the shirt over her head, he replaced his hands with his mouth. The way she buried her fingers in his hair and tugged nearly pushed him over the edge. Dragging his lips from her breast, he slid down her belly. A sheen of moisture tasted faintly of salt, and her skin smelled like honeysuckle. Breathing deeply, he headed south and felt her jerk when he found the sweet spot. Laving her with his tongue, he had the presence of mind to cover her mouth with his hand when she convulsed.
Her scream was muffled. When the fine tremors finally ceased, she hid her face. “I have to stop doing that.”
“No you don’t.” Despite the intense need urging him to sink into the comfort of her body, he laughed and touched her face, stroking back a strand of hair stuck to her brow. His heart swelled with something stronger than attraction, something terrifyingly close to love. He pushed away the panic stealing his breath. “We’ll just soundproof a bedroom.”
“Funny.” She stretched and rolled on top of him. “Let’s see how quiet you are.” Her hand wiggled between their bodies and closed around him.
Sweat popped out on his forehead. The intensity of his desire made him grit his teeth. “Careful. I’m awfully close to ending this right now.”
“Yeah?” She nibbled his earlobe, then flicked her tongue inside.
“Oh, God!” Flailing over the side of the bed, he grabbed his jeans and pulled his wallet out of the back pocket. “Hold that thought for one minute...” The foil tore, and he fumbled with a condom.
“Let me.” Taking it from his hand, she smoothed it over his hard length with an intimacy that was pure torture.
He couldn’t wait another minute. Thrusting upward into her damp heat, he closed his eyes and held on. When he was certain he wouldn’t disgrace himself, he moved, stroking slow and deep while she clung to him. Little whimpers escaped her throat, telling him she was close. He clasped her face in his hands and kissed her, joining their mouths as they shook and shuddered together, touching him to the depths of his soul.
She lay draped across him, dead weight on his chest. It felt better than anything he’d experienced—ever. Stroking his hand down the smooth skin of her back, he forced away the doubts and worry threatening the peaceful moment. He would not think this to death. He would simply enjoy.
She propped herself on her arms and looked down at him. The darkness was complete. He couldn’t read her expression, but the hesitancy in her tone was clear. “Is everything okay?”
He wound a lock of hair around his finger. “More than okay.” And suddenly it was. He was absolutely certain they could make a relationship work. Nothing, not old fears and insecurities, not work or his grandfather, not even Zack, would stand in their way. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
Dropping back down, she rested her cheek in the hollow beneath his chin. Her breath tickled his chest. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do. I’m happy when I’m with you. I think about you when I’m not. You make me smile. When I’m angry or upset or tired, you ease the hurt.”
She sniffed and wiped a hand across her eyes.
His arms tightened around her, and he touched her damp cheek. “Are you crying?”
“That is without a doubt the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She kissed his jaw, her lips trailing across the rasp of his beard.
He was drifting in a haze of pleasure and exhaustion when he heard her whispered words.
“I love you, Dillon.”
****
Brooke was alone in the room when she woke. Patting the dented pillow at her side, her lips curved. Slowly she sat up and stretched. Shower first, then breakfast. Her feet hit the carpet, and she yawned hugely. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she looked around the room.
Not alone. Otis sprawled on the rug at the foot of the bed. He opened one eye and looked at her before closing it again. Finding her robe draped across the rocking chair in the corner, she tied the belt and then knelt to pet the dog, scratching him behind the ears. “How’re you doing, boy?”
Otis groaned softly and rolled onto his back, his front paws dangling ludicrously in the air. Smiling, she headed for the bathroom.
She was still smiling twenty minutes later when she entered the kitchen. Zack sat at the table, demolishing a waffle liberally coated with syrup. Her grandmother took a sip of coffee and glanced up from the paper. “Shall I make one for you?”
“After I have a cup of coffee, please.” She poured a mug full to the brim and cupped it in her hands, breathing in the aroma. “Where’s Dillon?”
“He had an early meeting.”
“I’m supposed to eat my breakfast, brush my teeth, and catch the bus without arguing with anyone,” Zack said around a mouthful of waffle. He wiped a drop of syrup off his chin and licked his finger. “This is way better than cereal.”
“Grandma makes the most awesome waffles ever.” She glanced at the digital clock on the stove and frowned. “Doesn’t the bus usually come in about five minutes?”
June dropped the paper. “Oh goodness, I lost track of time.”
“Finish your breakfast,” Brooke said, laying a hand on the boy’s shoulder when he jumped up from the chair. “I’ll walk you to school.”
“You will?”
“Yep, but we can’t bring Otis. He needs to stay quiet for a day or two.”
“He looked a lot better this morning, and he ate part of his breakfast,” June said. “I fed him while you were in the shower.”
“I’m just so thankful he’s going to survive this, though I should probably make an appointment with a vet to have him checked out.”
“It couldn’t hurt.” June tilted her head, and her fine, white eyebrows shot up. “That sounds like the bus now. If you’ve finished the waffle, Zack, go brush your teeth. You don’t want to be late for school.”
The boy hit the floor running, and Brooke drained her cup. “I’ll eat when I get back.”
Her grandmother studied her above the rims of her glasses. “Dillon seemed awfully cheerful this morning for a man who spent the evening looking for dog barf in the woods. You wouldn’t know why, would you?”
Turning away, she forced a casual tone. “Don’t have a clue.” She grabbed her fleece jacket from the rack by the door. “Here comes Zack.”
“I’ll have a waffle ready for you when you get back.”
She dropped a quick kiss on her grandmother’s cheek as the boy raced into the room. “You’re the best. Grab your coat, Zack. I’ll carry your backpack. Do you have everything in it?”
He nodded. “Grandma June packed my lunch. She even cut the crust off my peanut butter sandwich.”
“You’ll be the envy of all your pals. Let’s go.”
Hustling, they reached the school just as the first bell rang. Zack ran off to join his friends, and Brooke waved to Caroline. She waved back, but her eyes lacked their usual sparkle.
Brooke joined her at the door as the teacher shooed the last of the kids into the building. “Everything okay?”
“I’m sure it will be.” Caroline frowned. “Elliot called for a substitute this morning. He said he was feeling off.”
“Probably caught a cold from one of his students.”
She nodded. “It’s one of the hazards of teaching. How’s your dog?”
“Much better, I’m thrilled to say.”
“That’s great news. I’d better go. The kids will tear the classroom apart if I don’t get in there.”
“You’re a braver woman than I am. Tell Elliot I wish him a speedy recovery.”
“I will. Thanks, Brooke.”
She headed out of the empty school yard and jogged toward home, her hands jammed in the pockets of her jacket. Last n
ight’s storm had passed, but there was a chill in the air. Harley cruised by and stopped, braking hard in the middle of the street. He lowered his window and glowered at her. “What the hell are you doing out alone?”
“I had to walk Zack to school. Geez, Harley, it’s the middle of the morning, not exactly the witching hour.”
“After last night...” He frowned. “Hell, I’m headed to a D&D, or I’d give you a lift.”
“What’s that?”
“Drunk and disorderly.”
“At nine in the morning?” Her voice rose.
He grunted. “Probably an all night bender. Promise me you’ll go straight back to the house.”
She clicked the heels of her tennis shoes and saluted. “Yes, sir. I’ve got a waffle waiting with my name on it.”
His lips curved slightly. “See you, Brooke.”
The cruiser sped off, and she jumped when a fir cone dropped from a tree in front of her. Damn, Harley! She hadn’t thought about the possibility of danger until he opened his big mouth.
She quickened her pace, turning onto her grandmother’s road. The wind sowed through the tree branches, and she flinched with every creek and moan. “Stop it.” Her voice echoed back at her. Shivering, she broke into a run. A branch snapped.
She absolutely would not look! Forging onward, she ran into the stiff breeze. Her ears chilled, and she huddled deeper into her jacket. Half a mile to go.
Footsteps pounded the pavement behind her. Screaming, she whirled and crashed into an outstretched arm. A sweet scented rag covered her mouth and nose, and the world faded to black.
Chapter Seventeen
Dillon frowned at the reports on his desk and tightened his grip on the receiver. June’s words were so garbled he couldn’t understand what she was saying, but her distress was crystal clear. His gut clenched as he pictured is son lying on the playground with a broken arm. “Did something happen to Zack?”
“No, it’s Brooke. She’s missing.” Her voice cracked, and she sobbed into the phone. “She walked Zack to school and never came ho-ome.”
Fear froze the blood in his veins, and cold sweat beaded his brow. There is an innocent reason, surely. “Maybe she stopped to talk to someone and lost track of time. Did you call her cell?”
A Deadly Love Page 22
