Grave Secrets_A Manhunters Novel

by Skye Jordan

  The endearment had come out automatically, but it felt right. He was on a slippery slope into dangerous territory with this woman. If he didn’t watch his step, he’d find himself in a landslide.

  “So, dinner,” he said, more a statement than a question. “Friday.”

  She lowered her gaze to their hands and stroked the side of his little finger with her thumb. The gesture was so sweet, it pinched something deep in Ian’s gut and spread tingles up his arm. Her gaze met his again. “It would take planning…”

  He grinned, far too happy with this small measure of progress. “Then you’re with the right guy.”

  Savannah checked her appearance for what felt like the hundredth time. She slid her hands down the front of the wraparound sweater she’d borrowed from Misty. It was so soft, she couldn’t keep from touching it. It also made her waist look small, her breasts full. Coupled with her one pair of nice jeans and a trendy pair of Misty’s boots, Savannah saw a different woman looking back at her from the mirror in the living room. A trendy, sexy woman.

  Misty had insisted she wear her hair down, and added a touch of makeup to Savannah’s eyes, cheeks, and lips. The overall effect made Savannah remember what life had been like before everything went south with Hank. When she was carefree in college. When she had friends and fun in her life. When her whole future lay ahead of her. When anything was possible.

  The tingle of impending tears tickled her nose. She tugged at the white cami peeking from under the sweater, trying to cover a little more cleavage. “I should cancel.”

  Misty looked up from the puzzle she and Jamison were working on. “What? Why?”

  She glanced at Jamison and found him oblivious, his tongue stuck out at the corner of his mouth as he tried to find the perfect fit for a puzzle piece. Instead of meeting Misty’s gaze, she looked at herself again. “What’s the point?”

  Misty stood from where she sat on the floor at the coffee table and stepped up behind Savannah. Her friend had plugged in her portable speaker to her cell phone, and a mix of country and rock played through the living room.

  “Nerves are normal.” Misty’s voice was low, for Savannah’s ears only. She reached around and drew Savannah’s hair off her shoulders, letting it fall down her back. “It means you’re alive. It means you like him.”

  “It means I could get hurt,” Savannah countered. “Or that I could hurt someone else.”

  “You told him to come around back, right?”

  “He figured it out by himself. It still surprises me that he hasn’t run screaming from Hank’s threats.”

  “It doesn’t surprise me. You’re worth it. And the fact that he’s jumping through the hoops Hank creates only mean’s he’s willing to take the risk for you. The least you could do is return the favor.” Misty wrapped her arms around Savannah’s waist and rested her chin on her shoulder, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “Because without risk, there’s no life. You’ve lived in captivity long enough.” Then she grinned and lowered her voice another notch. “And if you cancel on sex on a stick, I’m going to dinner with him.”

  Savannah laughed and elbowed Misty. “Shut up.”

  Her friend stepped back and stroked Savannah’s hair one more time. “I will. Just watch me. He’s way too hot to be stood up.”

  Savannah grinned at Misty’s tease and turned away from the mirror. A knock sounded on the back door, and Savannah’s smile stiffened. An effervescent sizzle coursed through her chest—nerves, excitement, fear.

  She met Misty’s gaze. Her friend shot Savannah a bright, excited smile. Jamison popped to his feet. He was dressed in his shoes and his jacket, ready to hit the road. “Mr. Ian’s here, Mommy.”

  And he ran through the kitchen to the back door.

  “Hey, buddy.” Ian’s rich voice drifted into the house and jumbled Savannah’s stomach. “You look like you’re ready for ice cream.”

  “Come see my puzzle.”

  He was as excited to see Ian as Savannah. The fact that she’d seen him every day didn’t seem to diminish the thrill either. In fact, they seemed to have developed a silent method of communication. A look, a smile, a simple word or phrase conveyed mutual interest and pleasure over seeing each other.

  Ian walked through the kitchen, his hand on Jamison’s head, his gaze on her son’s exuberant face. Savannah suddenly didn’t have anything to do with her hands and stuffed them in her back pockets.

  He wore dark jeans, boots, an inky thermal beneath his parka. A day’s worth of stubble darkened his jaw, but his hair looked wet, like he’d just stepped out of the shower. The thought lit a spark beneath Savannah’s ribs. As he passed through her small kitchen, she was reminded of just how big he was—easily six two, easily two hundred pounds of muscle. The sight of this sexy man, in her house, willing to jump through hoops just to spend a couple of hours with her, kicked off a flurry of emotions—disbelief, gratitude, excitement. And again, fear.

  But she’d taught herself a long time ago that if she didn’t face the fear and do what terrified her anyway, she’d never grow. Never escape. Never be free.

  Ian grinned down at Jamison, his eyes glittering with joviality over her son’s excitement. In that moment, she felt herself fall a little in love with the man.

  When he looked up, his gaze traveled over Savannah and his smile transitioned into something other than amusement. Something more like surprise edged with desire. Jamison grabbed his hand and tried to pull him toward the coffee table, but Ian didn’t seem to even hear him. He just stared at Savannah, his smile hot and wildly seductive.

  “Wow,” he said while Jamison added traction to his grip on Ian’s hand. “You look great.”

  She smiled. “Thanks. You too.”

  “Come see,” Jamison said, undeterred by Ian’s distraction. “Aunt Misty helped me get the frame done.”

  Ian smiled, amused by Jamison’s demands for attention. He finally sauntered through the living room, said hello to Misty, and stood over the coffee table, looking at Jamison’s puzzle. He dropped into a crouch and made suggestions for a few piece placements, letting Jamison revel in the thrill of making the connections himself. Savannah’s heart softened a little more.

  Misty cleared her throat. When Savannah tore her gaze from Ian and Jamison to meet Misty’s gaze, she mouthed Yum with an expression as equally astonished as Savannah felt every time she saw the man. And that made her laugh.

  Ian glanced over his shoulder with a grin that made Savannah’s knees weak. “What are you two giggling about?”

  Savannah pressed her lips together and shook her head.

  Misty sat on the edge of a chair and pulled on her snow boots. “I’m in the mood for a banana split. What about you, Jamison?”

  “Watermelon sherbet,” he said, followed by both him and Misty saying at the same time, “with the candy seeds.”

  While everyone readied themselves to go their separate ways according to plan, what-ifs tumbled through Savannah’s mind. What if this date was a major fail? What if they started a relationship but her infatuation fizzled? What if his interest faded? What if Hank became too much of a pain in the ass for Ian to deal with? What if she fell for him but he bailed on her? What if he cheated? Lied? Broke Jamison’s heart? Broke hers?

  Misty stood and tossed her jacket around her shoulders, pushing her arms into the sleeves. “Don’t” was all she had to say to bring Savannah’s mind to a halt.

  Savannah pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, clearing the negative thoughts from her head.

  Ian pushed to his feet, turned, and gave Savannah a steady, reassuring smile. “Ready to do this?”

  “Yeah!” Jamison was the first to yell, popping to his feet. “Misty’s going to show me her dad’s bubble machine.”

  Ian lifted a brow. “Bubble machine?”

  “My dad had a few screws loose,” Misty said. “He was a mostly amateur inventor. The farm is chock-full of the strangest gadgets. In honor of Jamison’s overnighter, I pulled his bub
ble machine from the barn and played with it until I got it working again.”

  Savannah said her goodbyes and stood in the partially open doorway, waving, as Jamison and Misty climbed into Misty’s car. She felt Ian come up behind her. Hidden from the deputy’s sight, Ian ran his hand up Savannah’s back, under her hair, and gave her neck a gentle squeeze.

  Every inch of her body reacted like he’d thrown an ON switch, lighting her up.

  “You smell so good.” His murmur sounded soft in her ear just before he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. The gesture was so sweet, her eyes fell closed, and her chest swelled. Savannah leaned back and found him there, a rock of stability and strength.

  What would it be like to have this in my life every day?

  She couldn’t begin to imagine and cut herself off from fantasizing about something that had such a slim chance of happening. She shored herself up and gave a final wave as Misty pulled away from the curb.

  Ian’s hand slid down Savannah’s back again, then around her hip, his forearm stretching across her waist and pulling her fully up against him. She pulled in a sharp breath of surprise, of pleasure. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

  The moment was so decadent, her eyes closed again as she soaked in the feel of him. The sensation of being wanted. The sound of the cruiser’s engine turning over pried her eyes open. Deputy Sandberg flipped on the headlights and pulled away from the curb.

  “Did he follow?” Ian’s voice sounded low and rough.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you still interested in trying Smoke?”

  Even though everything in her wanted to turn in Ian’s arms and kiss him until neither of them could think about anything other than getting naked, she said, “Yes. We should go before someone comes to take Sandberg’s place.”

  “Roger that.” Ian stepped back, releasing her. When she turned, he took her hand and started toward the back door, pausing to press the button on the television, turning it on. “Little noise will add to the illusion that you’re home.”

  He pulled her through the kitchen and out the back door to his waiting truck, which was already running. Opening the door for her, he helped her into the warm interior and rounded the hood to the driver’s side.

  Instead of securing his seat belt, he scooted to the center of the bench seat and cupped her face with one big warm hand. “I need to get this out of the way or I won’t be able to think about anything else all through dinner.”

  He slowly drew her forward, his gaze lowered to her mouth. Savannah pulled in a quick breath of surprise just before his lips pressed hers. She instantly hyperfocused on the moment. To the feel of his firm lips against hers. To the way he kissed her, tilted his head a little more, and kissed her again. The warmth of his tongue as it slid over her bottom lip, into her mouth, teasing her until she met it with her own.

  She’d long forgotten the feel of a man’s mouth on hers. Wondered if anyone had ever kissed her so seductively before. Considered changing her mind about going anywhere…

  He pulled back long before she was ready and left her tantalized and aching. She smiled and pressed a hand to his cheek, brushing her fingers over the stubble and reveling in the wholly male feel of it. “Now I won’t be able to think about anything else all through dinner.”

  He grinned, quick and bright. “My job here is done.”

  And he moved behind the wheel, secured his seat belt, and put the truck into Drive, all while smiling at her like they had a new secret.

  8

  So far, so good.

  Ian was surprised by just how receptive Savannah was after all she’d been through. What he continued to put her through. Her resiliency, warmth, and trust humbled him. The only thing that kept him from feeling like a complete user was the fact that he was intensely attracted to the woman.

  He shut down his emotions, compartmentalizing this outing as his job. He was doing his part to catch and stop terrorists who killed thousands of innocents. None of this was real. Savannah was out with the man she thought he was, not the man he really was.

  Once he’d turned onto the main road headed out of town with no tail, Ian patted the seat next to him. “Slide on over here, beautiful.”

  She hesitated, then unfastened her seat belt, moved to the center of the bench, and belted herself in beside him. He loved having her close. Loved the easy, feminine heat of her. The jasmine-and-sunshine smell of her.

  He squeezed her knee and let his hand rest on her thigh. “It was nice of Misty to take Jamison tonight.”

  “He loves her. She’s always pulling some new crazy gadget from her father’s stash to entertain him. She’s a good friend. My only friend, really.” She smiled at him. “Thanks for this. It’s the first time in years I’ve felt like a real person.”

  He squeezed her knee. “My pleasure.”

  She leaned into him and covered his hand with hers.

  Ian threaded their fingers, fighting to concentrate on the job and not how damn right this felt. “So…the story.”

  “Story?” She glanced at him.

  “Yeah. The reason you stay in town instead of moving away from your shithead of an ex.”

  “Oh, that.” Her gaze returned out the window. “If you don’t discover the answer to that question before we reach the restaurant, I’ll tell you then.”

  So they were conducting the same test—to see how far outside the county line they could get while her surveillance teams thought she was home. Interesting. The gears of Ian’s mind turned. Was he merely a means to an end? An unwitting accomplice in her attempt to run? It shouldn’t bother him—especially given he was using her the same way—but it still did.

  “What did you major in at Michigan?” he asked, going for something nonthreatening to open routes of communication.

  “Child development. Thought I might like teaching. What branch of the military were you with?”

  “Army,” he said, even though there was no right answer to that question. The Manhunters were an entity unto themselves. Men and women recruited and trained for extraction and elimination and funded by the classified black-ops budget. Most likely the same budget that funded Roman’s team. “Why aren’t you teaching school here?”

  “I didn’t finish my degree. Hank was a couple of years ahead of me. He was going to find a job in Ann Arbor after he graduated so I could finish, but his mom came down with early Alzheimer’s. He moved back to be with her and support his dad. I thought I’d transfer to a college here and finish up with some online classes or outreach programs.”

  “What happened?” he asked.

  She shrugged and stared out at the pavement illuminated by the headlights. “I got caught up in taking care of his mother. Hank got caught up in the job. I got pregnant.”

  “So, life.”

  She smiled. “Yeah. Life. I still want to go back to college at some point. If I return to Michigan, I’ll only need a year to finish. If I go somewhere else, I’ll probably need two years. Not sure if I still want to be a teacher, but I want to get my degree.”

  “You’d make a good teacher.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  He shrugged. “The way you are with Jamison. The way you treat your customers. You’re patient, good-natured, positive. Kids need that.”

  She thought for a moment. “You’re great with Jamison.” She hesitated, then asked, “Do you have kids?”

  “Me?” He laughed and shook his head. Kids meant having a woman. Women required maintenance, security, trust, an emotional investment. None of that suited his lifestyle. “No. No kids.”

  “I guess it would be hard to have a family when you’re in the military.”

  “Takes special people to make that work.”

  “Why did you leave? You can’t be old enough to have retired.”

  “The military has special programs for certain branches and units. When they’re downsizing, they allow retirement with fifteen years in. My mom got sick, and I took leave
to care for her. When it was time to go back to work, my job had been given to one of the kids coming in at eighteen and nineteen.”

  “That’s not right.”

  He laughed at her indignant tone. “It’s a young man’s game, but I miss it. They offered me a job as an instructor, but after being in the field so long…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It doesn’t exactly suit me.”

  As the county line approached, Ian checked his rearview mirror. No other lights shone on the highway, and a smile curved his lips. He might just get a decent date out of the night after all. “What happened between you and your mom?”

  “Oh…” She drew out the word with a whimsical smile. “That’s a little bizarre.”

  “I’ve seen bizarre. Try me.”

  She exhaled. “She’s part of the Church of Scientology.”

  “Really.” He hoped he sounded as surprised as when he’d heard it the first time.

  Savannah nodded. “I actually grew up in the movement. I don’t know how familiar you are with Scientology, but when adults enter the church, they give up their children to be raised by others. They brainwash you from the very beginning. Feed you lies, make you fearful of outsiders, and raise children to serve the congregation and spread the message. The day we walked into that compound in Los Angeles, I lost my mom. I was only six. I rarely saw her, and every time I did, we didn’t act like mother and daughter. It’s really strange. Not something many people can even believe let alone understand.”

  “What a bizarre way to grow up. When did you leave?”

  “When I was eighteen. To make a long story short, I had to pretend I was devout up till the very day I escaped. If I wasn’t, they would have stopped me.”