A buzz came to his phone, filling his mind with ideas of what new tidbit awaited them. Part of Blayze hoped it was another threat. Something over the top. Something that made Sophia want to stay under cover until they found this guy. Yet, even as he thought it, a rash of guilt struck him. Selfish. That’s what he was. No better than Emily when she’d tried to get him to stay behind. But who could blame her? More than any time in his life he understood where the woman was coming from.
Blayze shook off the thought and looked down at the phone in his hand. Let’s see what we’ve got. Just one text from Zane. Not only was Zane Sutton’s lead investigator, he’d served with him in the Navy SEALs. Deskwork wasn’t at the top of his list, but the guy could track details down like a bloodhound.
Bad news. Charles Locklear has been dead for over three years. He hung himself in prison the night he arrived. My guy didn’t spot it at first since the man’s got the same name as his father who’s still living. Don’t give me crap for it —I’ve been on another job. Hate to say back to the drawing board, but…
A curse fell from his lips. Blayze wanted to take the phone, crush it against the log railing, and watch it shatter into a million tiny pieces. Instead, he gave a nearby cooler a good hard kick. The thing tumbled over the porch with a loud clatter before slamming into a stack of chopped logs.
“What’s going on out there?” Roman appeared at the doorway, shock on his face as he drew his gun.
“Nothing,” Blayze mumbled, heading back to the house. “I just… got some crummy news.”
Roman stepped aside, allowing Blayze to enter first as he eyed the upturned cooler.
Sophia had come to a stand, a stack of papers resting before her on the table. “What’s wrong?”
Blayze handed over the phone, too frustrated to even speak it. Roman hurried over to Sophia’s side while she read it aloud. “…has been dead for three years?” she mumbled through the rest, shaking her head in frustration. “I really felt like it was him.”
She pressed the phone back into his hand, a foreign look of hopelessness falling over her face. “I just want to know who we’re dealing with,” she said.
“Me too,” Blayze assured, walking around the table. Inwardly, he was hoping to steal away for some quality time with the punching bag downstairs. He had more steam to blow off than he knew what to do with. “I hate to ask this…” he dared himself to say, but Sophia was quick to catch on.
“Nope,” she blurted. “I’m not even considering it, Blayze, so you can just stop it right there.”
Another curse tore from his lips, this one not as quiet as the first. “Sophia, I’m trying to keep you alive here.”
“And I’m trying to do something important!” She shoved her chair back, eyes flaring. “You didn’t like it when your ex-girlfriend tried to stop you from going overseas, did you?”
They stayed in a heated lock, the statement bringing something very real to the table. Something they hadn’t spoken about since the other night. But her comparison to his past romantic relationship assured him that those kisses meant more to her than just a fling to curb the loneliness. He and Sophia had something much deeper, and they both knew it.
He glanced at Roman. “Can I get a little help here?”
“Don’t look to him on this one. He respects me. He knows that this matters. The way your service for our country matters. This is my way of serving. Of exercising my freedom to making this country an even better place.” Light glistened in her brown eyes as they filled with tears, but still she kept them fixed on him.
Blayze remained frozen under her gaze, his heart thundering as she aimed a pointed finger at him, her bottom lip quivering. “If you talk to my father behind my back and try to take this from me…” She shook her head, turned to Roman, and then darted toward the open French doors.
Roman followed after her. “I’ve got this.”
Blayze checked through the blinds to see that he’d caught up with her, rage and fear clashing within him like angry ring horned rams. If he had that hostile in the room with him right then, Blayze couldn’t assure he’d do his duty of turning him over to the authorities. He’d likely beat the guy to death instead. A thought that pained him even more.
In two days he and Roman would have to take Sophia back to the city, walk her up to a bomb-ridden pulpit and let her leave her mark on the world. He barreled down the stairs, made his way to the punching bag after all, and went off on it. One hit after the next.
He was getting out of control, like his father. Tempted to give in to his passions. Heck, it had taken everything in him to stop what he’d started with Sophia by the kitchen sink the other day. He’d been almost positive—for just a moment—that Sophia would suggest they take things into the bedroom. If she had, Blayze would’ve likely done that very thing. His urges were becoming harder to resist, and the temptation to get Mr. Vasco on his side about the upcoming speech was pushing him to new limits.
But he’d resist. He had to. He respected Sophia too much to do otherwise. The resolution caused his fists to tighten as he pounded the bag.
It was no secret that Sophia would show up at this final event. Her father had made prior arrangements, asked the event planner to keep her name off the agenda so others wouldn’t know she’d be there. But he would likely know. The one who’d been threatening her since her father announced his second candidacy.
That thought planted something in his mind. A seed so sliver-small, he couldn’t exactly grasp onto it. But as he pounded the hefty, leather-coated bag, one angry fist after the next, Blayze sensed another piece of the puzzle starting to surface.
Chapter 17
Sophia gripped onto the wooden spoon in her fist, digging it into the batter while hugging the bowl.
“This is a pretty nice gesture,” Roman said, hovered over a mug of coffee.
Sophia grinned. “I want him to know I appreciate him for supporting my decision. I know it wasn’t easy for him.”
“So, do you feel ready for this?” Roman asked before taking another sip.
“Yes,” she assured. “I’m more than ready. Listening to everyone’s speeches, not being able to combat or support what they said, it’s been torture. I’m glad I finally get to say what I’d like to say. In person.”
“So, uh…” Roman glanced over his shoulder before turning back to her. “You want to talk about what’s going on with you and Blayze? One minute you’re cozied up together and the next you’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch.”
“That’s true.” Sophia used two spoons to plop the batter onto a baking sheet, the aroma of spiced pumpkin bringing a smile to her face. She’d planned to make the cookies as soon as he’d mentioned them, but now they were more of a peace offering after her outburst.
She glanced toward the hallway. Blayze would be out of the shower soon. “I really like him,” she whispered. “And he says he feels the same way…”
“Okay,” Roman encouraged.
Sophia sighed, not wanting to admit it was Blayze who’d set the boundaries. “We decided that testing it now, under these conditions, was a bad idea.”
“We?” he said, matching the quiet tone of her voice.
Sophia slid the pan into the preheated oven and folded her arms. “He did. Okay? And I agreed… after a while. Because I didn’t have a choice.” A chuckle fell from her lips as Roman grinned.
“Well,” he said, smile wider than his mug. “You could do a whole lot worse.” Spoken just like her father.
She spun back around to set the timer. The cookies would barely have time to cool before they had to leave. Roman’s suitcase waited beside the garage door; while Sophia and Blayze planned to come back to the cabin after tonight’s event, Roman would return home for a night or two. By the end of the week, they’d find out if the package cycle would continue with a fifth arrival and make plans accordingly.
With thoughts of weaving back through the narrow roads surrounded by towering redwoods, a certain yearning cam
e back to Sophia as she recalled being in the back of the SUV with Blayze, fingers entwined while she lay in his arms, dreams of his kiss in her mind despite the threat that sent them fleeing.
There was so much going through her mind, she could barely keep a strain of thought. Love was a powerful thing, she supposed. Enough to own her thoughts even amidst the chaos.
“Think I’ll go over my notes one more time,” she mumbled while heading back to the table.
With the chair pushed away behind her, she glanced down at her written—not typed—speech. At first, she’d dreaded the idea of using anything but printed notes. But after watching Blayze create his masterpieces with paper and pen, she’d enjoyed handwriting her speech. Underlining and circling for emphasis. Drawing a few images along the side to remind her of her purpose. A gavel for justice, a heart for her mother and a tie for her father. Last, she drew an American flag, letting it represent her country, and the man who was quietly earning pieces of her heart.
“Okay,” Roman said, spinning on his barstool, “I’m your audience. Let’s hear it.”
Sophia smiled at the man, grateful for his support. She imagined that she was not in her sweats with an apron tied around her waist. Her hair and makeup were done after all. Close enough. A quick glance at her notes, the pull of a deep breath, and she was ready.
“All right, “she said. “Here I go.”
Blayze kept his eyes shut as he leaned his back against the wall. Tucked just inside the hallway, he keyed in to the sound of Sophia’s voice. Those compelling words, that bleeding passion. Roman had once joked the woman should run for president. The man wasn’t kidding. She had an appreciation for the country that very few had apart from those who put their very lives on the line. Or the family members who lay in wait. Praying God’s protection over their loved one night and day.
He couldn’t remember admiring someone so much. Or caring for a woman this deeply. How it had happened so fast, he wasn’t sure. Suddenly, a memory floated to his mind. A conversation he’d had with his mother one morning. While Mom sipped on a mug of steaming orange tea, she’d asked about how things were going between Blayze and Emily.
“Good,” he’d assured. “Really good.”
Mom asked a second question then. “Do you love her?”
Blayze hadn’t known how to respond to that. “I might,” he finally decided. “I mean, I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”
A teary grin came to Mom’s face. “My suggestion…” she said, fingers curled around her mug, “the moment you’re certain, tell her. She deserves to know.”
Blayze had taken his mother’s advice. And as distant as those feelings were now, he didn’t regret it. Life was full of learning experiences; and as painful as some may be, each struggle brought wisdom—not an easy thing to come by. But the recollection begged a new question. One Mom wasn’t here to ask: Was he in love with Sophia?
The answer was a resounding yes.
A rash of heat burst through his chest—a flare gun in full blast trapped in his ribcage. Yet, as Blayze pulled in a shallow breath, the heat spread up his throat and right to his face.
His head pulsed beneath the realization—he was in love with Sophia Vasco. Why did he have to discover the depths of his feelings for her then, with such a dangerous scenario ahead? Why not after the dust settled?
Maybe he was meant to tell her, that’s why.
If the acknowledgment of his love was like a flame, the challenge of telling her was a full-on explosion.
No. He rejected the idea at once, forcing his attention back to the list of details before him. They were heading back to the university today. The place he’d first heard and seen her speak. Even in recollection, the moment was a thing of beauty.
Sophia’s voice continued from the other room, traveling down the hall where Blayze stood. “… which is why I encourage you to get out to those polls and vote,” she said with a flourish. Roman started a round of applause, and Blayze pulled himself away from the wall to join him.
He formed an okay sign with his hand and brought it to his mouth. With his pointer finger and thumb pinned between his lips, he let out a long whistle.
Sophia grinned at him from across the room. A blue apron wrapped snuggly around her waist, a smudge of flour on her cheek, and a pair of pink, fluffy slippers on her feet. Dang, she was cute.
“I like the outfit choice,” he said as he moved toward the dining area.
She laughed. “Thanks. I didn’t want to come across too intimidating.”
“Too late,” he assured. She’d intimidated him since day one.
The oven timer rang out, causing Blayze to inhale the incredible aroma filling the cabin. He pondered for no more than a second and spun to Sophia as he recognized it.
She was shuffling around the island toward the oven. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” she purred. “You said it was one of your mother’s specialties, and I wanted to do something for you.” She slid a pan onto the granite countertop. A dozen plump, pumpkin cookies filled the pan, each dotted with dark chunks of chocolate. “I hope it’s close enough to your mother’s recipe.”
The sincerity he saw in her eyes made him want to pull her into his arms and assure her, between long, passionate kisses, that they’d be perfect. Blayze was pretty sure he wasn’t actually entertaining the idea, but the fact that Roman’s presence topped the list of reasons he couldn’t said a lot. “I’m sure they’ll be perfect.”
She caught her lip between her teeth, eyes pasted on him as she rounded the counter. She stood so close to him that her hands, which were folded before her, grazed his chest. “Good,” she said, then reached in and kissed him on the nose. “I’m going to grab a few outfits to choose from.” Her shoulder rubbed against him as she glided by.
Blayze stood very still as she walked away, musing that if Roman wasn’t in the room he’d have definitely pulled Sophia in to sample those lips. Perhaps the words he’d decided not to speak may have come out after all. The thought of saying them seemed almost natural to him in the moment.
“Boy, are you in trouble,” Roman said under his breath.
Blayze shook his head and spun to face the man. “You said it.”
“Today’s not going to be a walk in the park.” Roman moved around the counter and rinsed out his mug.
“As they say in the SEALs,” Blayze said, “the only easy day was yesterday.”
“I have all the faith in the world in you, vato,” Roman said. “I can say that with all my heart.”
Blayze gulped, sensing he wasn’t finished just yet.
“Still…” He squirted a drop of dish soap into the stopped sink basin and turned on the faucet. “I have a feeling that says we’ve got to watch her good today.”
Blayze gulped again, nodding in agreement while his insides screamed. “Mr. Vasco said that a few local news stations posted schedules of who they’d hear from today, and her name was nowhere to be found.”
“Good,” Roman said. “So, we get her to the university. She’ll be the second-to-last speaker of the program, and we’ll have her out of there before the final speaker’s through.”
As Roman dunked the batter bowl into the suds, Blayze snatched the dishtowel off the oven handle, contemplating the hours that lay ahead.
He’d go into the challenge like the ones that had come before: fingers crossed with a prayer in his heart. Blayze supposed he’d have to do the same when it came to telling Sophia how he felt for her. He’d kept her at bay during their time together, save a weak moment or two, but as his mother would say, a woman deserved to know when a man loved her. And whether he liked it or not, the time to tell her just might be now.
Chapter 18
Sunlit trees sped by in a blur through the tinted windows of the Land Rover. Sophia couldn’t help but think it was a good representation of the moment. Here they’d gone day after day in wait at the cabin, time nearly moving in slow motion as the date approached, and now it seemed to be rushing up
on them, ready or not.
“I was really hoping to get a better idea of who we were up against before today.” Blayze’s comment was loud enough for Sophia to hear, but just barely. She wondered if he’d been murmuring to himself, but then he turned away from the window to face her. His expression was flat, somber. Almost regretful.
“Yeah,” Sophia replied. “I was hoping so too. But I guess we may never catch him unless he acts out again. It’s like that catch twenty-two. On one end I hope he never shows his face. But if he doesn’t, I’ll probably be haunted by him for the rest of my life.” There’d been a question looming in her mind, one she hadn’t spoken aloud: If nothing happened today, could she expect yet another package in three days’ time? How long would the cycle continue?
Blayze stretched an arm over the middle seat between them, offering his hand to her, palm up. Sophia glanced at his loosely curled fingers, considered slipping her own fingers through them, but had a better idea. With one quick move, she released her seatbelt and shrugged out of it. A swift slide across the leather seat and she was nudged up beside him
Blayze wrapped an arm around her, took hold of the middle belt, and fastened it into place with a grin. “There.” He rested his hand in the same fashion on her lap.
This time Sophia took hold of it, sandwiched it between both hands, and tipped her head to press a soft, lingering kiss to his wrist. There hadn’t been much thought in the action, but as she felt the heightened speed of his pulse at her lips, she turned to catch him studying her with heavy eyes.
She held his gaze, allowed for the smallest, playful grin, and came in for another kiss, a little higher up his arm. The mood took a sudden shift as her pulse quickened now, the chemistry between them proving to be all she remembered and more. She wondered about making another move as her gaze drifted up to his lips. Would he stop her? She leaned in, pressed her mouth to his bicep instead, this one separated by the thin fabric of his black, cotton tee shirt. She glanced up at him through her lashes; that need to be near him building once more.
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