Duck and Run

by TL Schaefer

  She had a major decision to make. One that would change her future.

  Did she want to go back to the yard? To Rob and Red River Recovery?

  That she was considering leaving didn’t give her the pang it should have, and the fact she was thinking it in the shower after fantastic sex showed her how far she still had to go in figuring out what she wanted. Both with Nick and her job.

  This morning being sensible would rule because it was the smart thing to do. She’d led with her heart in her relationships before Trent, led with sensibility as well, and nothing good had come of either.

  So instead of making a decision that had the potential to spectacularly backfire, today she’d go home and take stock.

  She was tired. Tired of thinking on her feet, tired of dodging bullets yet again. The last two days had tested even her reserves. More than anything, she wanted to crawl back into bed with Nick and lose herself, forget the big, bad world even existed.

  But she wasn’t that person. She’d pull up her big girl panties and figure out what she wanted to do with not only her life, but with the sexy OSBI agent who’d shared her bed the night before--and who had her back since pretty much the moment they’d met.

  "I guess we'd better head home," Cris' words, her posture, everything about her was subtly off, as if they were about to have a conversation she really didn’t want to have.

  Nick understood morning-after remorse as well as the next guy, he just usually wasn't on the receiving end of it. He wondered what had happened to the goddess who’d left his bed. He hadn’t done anything to piss her off, had he? Seriously, she’d left bed and gone to the shower…

  It hit him. Dammit. Shower thinking was his most introspective time, and he’d bet Cris was the same way. It was just his dumb luck she’d opted for the stiff-arm, rather than the banter they’d fallen into so easily.

  And for the first time, he understood what it felt like to be let down softly, if not uncomfortably. It sucked royally.

  But he’d never been a quitter. Not as he grew up and escaped the worst part of Tulsa. Not seeing the ugliest parts of the world through night vision goggles. Not after losing his buddies, and the rehab process that still made him cringe.

  Nope, Cristine O’Connor-Eagen was about to learn that he never quit, and that Semper Fi was more than something seen on billboards or splashy commercials. He wasn’t a quitter, and he was always faithful.

  Because for him, last night had been more than awesome, it had rocked his world in every way. It had been more than simple sex. It'd been a connection of souls. Not something he'd ever experienced before, and he hoped it was the same with Cris, and that she was scared of the feeling.

  He could work with that. Yeah, he could go the old-fashioned route, woo her. Something he figured her father and Linc would appreciate a lot more than them showing up and saying they were enjoying each other’s bodies.

  He settled back in the dinette chair, feeling comfortable for the first time since they'd fully awakened, because now he had a plan.

  Cris settled behind the steering wheel of the SUV, telling herself over and over again that she was doing the right thing by heading back to Oklahoma City. To her “safe” life. To a “career” she felt herself drifting away from with each passing moment.

  Never mind that Nick was everything she’d ever looked for in a partner, both on the force and off. In bed and out.

  “Penny for your thoughts.” Nick asked, and from the tone of his voice, he knew exactly what she’d been thinking of.

  She blushed in response, but answered honestly, because he didn’t deserve anything less. “I was just thinking how good together we are, physically.” She left it at that. She’d worked in a man’s world long enough to realize sometimes sex was just sex, a way to blow off steam, to acknowledge an attraction that might not lead anywhere.

  She’d made the huge assumption in the shower that he wanted this to go further. But now, in the clear light of day, with coffee in her system and a two-hour drive in front of her, she wondered if she’d been the only one to take that leap. Given what Nick had shared with her yesterday, about his past relationships and how he viewed them, making assumptions would likely end up just hurting them both.

  She didn’t think he’d push the conversation further.

  To say she was shocked when he did was an understatement.

  “What do you think about dating?” His voice was careful, neutral, as if he were walking through a minefield.

  It was then Chris realized he was on the same limb she was, hanging out there, with no real idea what the other was thinking.

  She decided for honest levity as they cruised through the morning sunshine. “As an Olympic sport? Not so much. For myself? Don’t have the best track record.” And because he’d been honest about his past relationships, she would about hers, as well. “Trent and I dated for a long time, to make sure it was a good fit, before we took it any further. You know how well that worked out.”

  She would have sworn she heard Nick mutter “what an idiot” under his breath but decided not to call him on it. Especially since he was correct.

  “Is it something I’d be willing to try again?” she asked, keeping her voice light, though inside she was quaking. This wasn’t a step she’d anticipated taking this morning, or even five minutes ago. But all the reasons she’d listed in the shower disappeared, forgotten. “Sure. But I’m a bit peculiar now.”

  “How’s that?” he asked, the pure interest in his sideways glance all the encouragement she needed.

  “Cars. I won’t date a guy who doesn’t know the difference between a ‘Stang and a GTO. Barbeque. I’m from Texas. Prime, aged beef is a staple, not a once-a-year treat.” She thrummed her fingers against her chin, beginning to enjoy this. “Music. I love anything that’s honest, but country the most. Anyone who puts it down is toast.” She paused, then turned her full attention on him. “What about you?”

  He grinned, his eyes lighting up, and she had to wonder when he’d last flirted with a woman. Surely they weren’t both this rusty. But then again, maybe they were, at least with someone they actually enjoyed being around.

  “Music. Rock and roll, but only stuff from the US. None of that British invasion crap.”

  Cris barely stifled a laugh. At least he had an opinion.

  “Alcohol. Only wine, and only the good stuff.” The smile he’d been wearing changed a bit, as if he was holding back a wince and she knew he was thinking of his mother.

  No way was she going to let reality intrude. Not now, when, except for last night, cold, hard reality was all they’d known.

  “Don’t you think it’s funny we’re having the getting-to-know-you conversation now?” she asked, steering him away from darker thoughts. They had no place in the here and now.

  That brought back the humor. “I think we got to know each other very well, thank you very much.”

  And there it was. Whatever it was that they’d experienced, were still experiencing, wasn’t something she was willing to let go of. No matter that her brain told her it was the right thing to do, the safe thing.

  Even if he did live in Tulsa. She took a deep, nervous breath. It was hard to reconcile the one-eighty she’d done since the shower just an hour ago. But she couldn’t stop the words, any more than she could stop the tide.

  “How hard do you think it would be for us to continue?” There. She’d said it. Her hands flexed on the steering wheel before she intentionally relaxed her fingers.

  Her words hung in the air for a long moment before he answered. And when he did, it was with more than just words.

  He reached over the center console of the truck, cupping the side of her face with one big hand, making her feel impossibly precious. “Probably one of the easiest things we’ll ever do.” His thumb traced her cheekbone, and she shivered all over.

  He smiled in response. “One of the easiest things ever.”

  Chapter 12

  Nick stepped out of the SUV with
a heated look and a promise to call later that evening. He was due for a debrief with his boss in Tulsa after lunch, or she knew he would have figured out a way to come back to Oklahoma City with her.

  It was all good. The ninety-minute drive allowed her to think about everything that’d happened. How much her life had changed in two short days.

  Even thinking of Nick and those capable hands sent a rush through her.

  Every rational, sensible thing she’d told herself this morning was gone, blown away with the force of a tornado. But as much as her intuition sang in the here and now, distance, at least until they got to know each other on a personal level—not physical—was probably a good thing. At least it was for her.

  While Nick pushed every one of her buttons, she needed some personal space to figure out what was going on inside her head. Never mind what Nick might or might not be thinking.

  She tuned the radio to classic country and settled in, letting her thoughts flow as the interstate unfurled beneath her.

  It gave her time to attempt to reconcile the logical part of her brain that had held sway in the shower, but hadn’t stopped her hopeful question about them continuing to see each other.

  They’d run the gamut of emotions in three days, from panic to passion. If there was going to be more for them, the psychologist in her needed to understand why she was pushing back. The disconnect inside her psyche kept circling around to the same thing, and she didn't like it one little bit. It was Trent. Or rather her failed relationship with her ex. The failed relationships before her marriage.

  How had she been such a spectacularly bad judge of character? Her family had always been a bit rough and tumble, and had never understood how Cris—who’d always been a tomboy—could be with someone like Trent, a blue-blood accountant.

  Sure, her father and brother were lawyers, and the O’Connors had a reputation of being a silver spoon family, but most folks forgot that her dad had made the climb to his position the hard way, going to night school when he wasn't working as a security guard, married to an elementary school teacher.

  When Cris was born, Christian had just won his first election. His work as a criminal attorney had propelled him there quickly, at a very young age, but he'd kept his working-class roots. She and two brothers’ childhoods had been anything but celebrated until she hit middle school, when none of them could avoid spotlight any longer.

  When nine-year-old William was killed, and her mother seriously injured, victims of a distracted driver, their legacy of frequently appearing in the spotlight had been cemented. Whether they liked it or not. Overcoming adversity sold just as many papers as scandal did, at least until her fall from grace.

  By the time Trent came along, she'd created a career of her own, carved out her own rep, separate from her family's, but supported by it. She’d dated, tried a few relationships on for size, but nothing had fit. Dating and then marrying Trent had made such perfect sense. Two prep-school friends who’d done well on their own, melding into the perfect couple.

  It all sounded so mercenary now. At the time, it had seemed to be the logical choice.

  While Trent had nothing to do with the hostage situation and the Lori Wright debacle, he hadn’t stood by her, hadn’t had her back, and for that she couldn’t forgive him, couldn’t forgive herself.

  By the time she hit Oklahoma City she was tired of self-analysis, and just wanted some lunch. With coffee. Lots more coffee.

  She and Nick had taken most of the night simply learning each other’s bodies. A part she didn’t want to acknowledge sighed in regret that they’d even left the cabin, and she tamped it down.

  She pulled into Red River Recovery to drop off Rob’s loaner and pick up her own SUV.

  The yard hadn’t changed much, but she saw Rob had added two more cameras. Honestly, she didn’t know what else he could do to secure the place without installing sentry posts. Maybe some concertina wire and a few rows of mines. The thought made her smile because she could almost see him going that far.

  Karla, her auburn hair in its usual crazy riot of curls, smiled brilliantly as Cris walked into the office.

  “Girl, you got yourself into a mess this time,” her voice, cigarette-rough and just a little bit cranky, was like a balm.

  Cris laughed in response, leaned into the out-of-character hug the woman gave her. “It’s been an interesting few days, that’s for sure.”

  Karla pulled back, looked Cris in the eye. “Thank you for sending the SOS.” She shivered once, stared into space for a long moment, then seemed to pull back into her usual crusty shell. “Where’s the dude from the trunk?”

  How the hell did Karla know about Nick being in the trunk? Then Cris remembered that Rob had installed cameras in the garage as well. Something she should have thought of, if for no other reason than as a back up to Nick’s story.

  “He’s safe and sound,” she replied. She didn’t mention that he was OSBI, didn’t know if that was something anyone other than Linc knew. Certainly didn’t mention that they’d spent the night in each other’s arms. But somehow Karla knew, sent her an overly obvious wink, wink, nod, nod as Rob bulled into the office.

  “Eagen,” he began, then stopped, as if he didn’t really know what to add. Which was just plain strange.

  He was a mountain of a man, vibrant tats just visible at the cuffs of his long-sleeved dress shirt, at the vee above the top button. His brown hair was buzzed close to his scalp, dark eyes cool and calm, as if he’d seen a lot and done even more.

  She’d heard he’d done a stint as a professional wrestler before returning to Oklahoma and starting up Red River Recovery, and could totally believe it, but other than that little nugget, he was a closed book. Not much usually shook him, so his level of discomfort right now was oddly amusing to her.

  “Rob,” she answered, then jangled her keys. “Thanks for getting my ride out of the ‘hood, replacing the window, and for helping us out.”

  He nodded, shrugged. “You okay?”

  “Now I am,” she said. “The OSBI is in cleanup mode with the rest of the alphabet soup agencies.”

  “Well,” he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Take today and tomorrow to get your life together. Ethan will cover for you.”

  Cris smiled, getting a mean little charge off that news. Served him right for bailing on her when this all started.

  The fact Rob hadn’t gone ballistic over the damage to the ‘Vette and the overarching drama was a bit puzzling, but Cris wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially since he’d been absolved of any connection to the fraud ring. Sometimes he was just a strange dude.

  “Thanks, I’ll be back day after tomorrow.” It still didn’t feel quite right, coming back, but she’d just have to see what happened.

  It was good to be behind the wheel of her own truck, see the things that were just hers in their normal places. Loose change in the cupholder, extra shades hooked in the passenger visor. Her duffel on the floor. It was normal. Familiar as the neighborhood streets beneath her wheels.

  Coming home felt more like she’d been on a long trip, rather than a hundred miles away, two days ago.

  So much had changed in those two days, and almost none of it had to do with Nick, at least not directly.

  It hit her about halfway into her drive home, and it hit her hard.

  For the first time since Austin, she felt comfortable in her own skin. Yeah, the post-sex afterglow helped, but there was so much more to it. A “more” that stunned her. She’d fallen back into her old habits, her old skillset, almost flawlessly. Which made her spend the last ten minutes of the drive second-guessing almost every decision she’d made in the last two years.

  Had she left the Rangers prematurely? Did she miss the drama, the excitement, the buzz?

  Even as she formulated the questions, she dismissed them. Those questions were too easy. Too obvious.

  She drove on autopilot, tumbling and turning her thoughts inside out, trying to pin d
own her discontent.

  Yes, it had felt great being back in the mix, and the adrenalin rush had been memorable, but not something to make her lose any sleep over. So what had given her that ever-elusive satisfaction?

  She knew what it was, wasn’t sure why she was dancing around it.

  Talking with Nick about his past, “shrinking him,” as he’d called it. Flexing those old muscles had felt better than she’d ever imagined it might.

  Those muscles were more atrophied than she wanted to admit, especially to herself.

  Had she really shut herself away so completely? Even around her family? Linc? Rob and Karla and Ethan? She was pretty sure she had.

  But listening to Nick, really listening, knowing that something she said might help, had been powerful. And now that she’d tasted it, she wanted more.

  The revelation floored her, even as it soothed. She’d always loved the psychotherapy portion of her old life. She didn’t quite know what she was going to do, what direction her life was going to take, but she was at a crossroads, one that made her equal parts ecstatic and terrified.

  No need to make a decision today, she thought as she pulled into her driveway. Today she needed to relax, enjoy a rare day off. Call her family. And tonight, take a bath, have a glass or two of wine.

  She’d do all those things, and not think about any of this until tomorrow.

  As her hand closed on the knob, she paused, the hair on the nape of her neck tingling, rising, throwing up shields she’d let drop just a few hours ago. She eased the door open a half inch at a time, hearing nothing but silence, smelling nothing out of the ordinary. But she trusted her instincts. Something here was very wrong.

  She pushed the door open just enough to see into the house and stopped hard, her pulse pounding a drumbeat as she surveyed the living room. The place had been trashed.

  Not by someone tossing it for information. Not by a burglar.

  No, it had been almost destroyed by someone in a rage.