by Elle James
Chance stopped in front of a closet and pulled out a towel and wash cloth. Then he guided her to one of the shower rooms and pushed open the door. “Sorry, we don’t have fancy shampoos and conditioners, but there’s body wash and shampoo dispensers in the shower stalls.”
“I brought my own conditioner. I’ll manage.”
When he handed her the towel, their hands touched, and that same jolt of electricity rippled through her tired body. She wanted to fall into his arms and let him hold her until all the bad stuff went away.
She pushed back her shoulders. She couldn’t show weakness. Hell, she’d been trained in the military and now was a deputy who could take down a perpetrator, shoot a bad guy and chase criminals without falling apart. Kate slung the towel over her shoulder. “Thanks.” She stopped herself from saying so much more. She wasn’t ready to tell him how she really felt about him, and he wasn’t ready for anyone else in his life. Not when he still mourned Sandy, the love of his life.
Kate entered the bathroom. Bacchus followed and lay on the cool tile floor.
In the shower, Kate quickly scrubbed the parts of her body that hadn’t been injured, eased off the bandages that covered the parts that had and rinsed the wounds carefully. After washing her hair, applying conditioner and rinsing thoroughly, she almost felt normal. She did all this quickly. Having limited access to showers in Afghanistan, she’d learned to be quick and efficient when a shower was available. Old habits died hard. And in this case, came in handy.
Less than eight minutes later, she emerged from the shower, wearing one of the T-shirts and a pair of running shorts she’d salvaged from the mess in her apartment. She’d brushed her wet hair back from her forehead and brushed her teeth.
When she and Bacchus left the bathroom, the hallway was empty, but not for long.
“That was quick.” Chance emerged from one of the doors farther down the hall. “This is the room I use. You can have the bed. I’ll take the cot. The mattress isn’t great, but it’s marginally better than the cot.”
Kate shook her head. “I won’t take your bed. I can sleep on the cot.”
His jaw tightened, and he held out his hand.
Kate placed hers in his, enjoying the warmth and strength.
“I insist,” he said. “You’ll be half-asleep by the time I get out of the shower. I don’t want to have to crawl across you and Bacchus to get to the bed. I’ll sleep on the cot.” He stepped back and showed her just how small the room was.
It was only big enough for a twin bed and a cot pushed up against it. They could barely close the door.
Kate smiled. “Is it considered a fire hazard to be that crowded?”
“I’m betting it is, but I won’t tell if you don’t.” He winked and waved her toward the bed. “It has fresh sheets. Get comfortable. I’m going for that shower.”
Kate sat on the edge of the cot and scooted backward until she was on the bed, careful not to jostle her leg and start the bleeding all over again. She’d forgotten to ask Chance for additional medical supplies to cover the wounds on her arm and leg. She would ask when he returned from the shower.
Bacchus leaped up onto the cot and crossed to the bed where he curled up at the foot and closed his eyes. Oh, to be a dog and not overthink everything.
In the meantime, Kate lay on top of the blanket, her wet head resting on the pillow. The walls were bare and white. Kate had left the ceiling light on for when Chance finished in the shower and he made his way onto the cot.
She closed her eyes. Flashback images of the fire and explosion immediately crowded her mind, making her wince at the sounds repeating in her head. Kate opened her eyes and stared at the door, willing Chance to hurry in the shower and join her in the little room.
Five minutes later, she heard a door open and close in the hallway. But Chance didn’t appear right away. Another door sounded further down the hall.
What was keeping him? Kate sat up and started to scoot toward the end of the bed.
“I’m back.” Chance stepped through the door wearing running shorts and a black T-shirt with Hellfire Fire Department written in bright gold letters across the front. “And I came bearing gifts.” He grinned and set a variety of medical supplies on the end of the cot. Then he climbed across the little cot to sit on the edge of the bed with Kate. Bacchus sniffed his bare knee and laid his head down, unconcerned about the intruder near his person.
“I can take care of myself,” Kate insisted.
“And deprive me of showing off my EMT skills?” He shook his head, dabbed some antibiotic cream onto the torn skin and opened a packet of gauze pads. Folding a couple over, he laid them over the wound on her leg. He tore off a piece of white tape and secured the gauze in place. Then he moved to the arm and used butterfly bandages to pull the edges of the wound together into a tight seam.
When he was done, he looked up. “Better?”
Short of him kissing her boo-boo… “Yes.” She stared into his face, her heart thundering in her chest. Every fiber of her being wished he would lean forward and kiss her like he’d probably kissed Sandy a hundred times. Kate just wanted one more kiss.
Oh, who was she lying to? She wanted more than one more kiss. She wanted a lifetime of kisses. She drew her knee up to her chin and slipped her legs beneath the sheets. “You’d better get some sleep.”
“You, too.” He gathered the medical supplies and disappeared from the room.
While he was gone, Kate settled against the pillow and waited for him to return. Her heart hurt more than her injuries ever could. She was falling for a man who still loved a ghost.
When she heard him speak to someone in the hall, she closed her eyes and pretended to have drifted off to sleep.
The scent of his cologne wafted to her in the tight confines of the little room. The door clicked shut, and the light around the seam of her eyelids extinguished. Chance crawled into the cot beside her bed and stretched out.
Kate could almost feel his warmth beside her. How she wanted to touch him, to hold him in her arms. To feel his skin against hers.
Then he reached out, patting the edge of her bed until he found her hand. He wrapped his fingers around hers and held them gently.
Kate lay quietly in the darkness. The occasional sound of other voices drifted through the door, but she felt as if she and Chance were alone in their own tiny world where only they existed for the few short hours until daylight.
She held onto that hand, pretending the gesture meant more than just a friend comforting another friend. In her fantasy, his touch was that of a lover, caring for the most important person in his life after a tragic event.
A smile curled her lips as Kate faded into the abyss of sleep where all her dreams came true and no dead woman could reclaim the heart of the man she loved.
Chapter 11
For a long time that night, Chance lay awake, sorting through all that had happened that day, that week…hell, since Kate came to town. The day she’d arrived, he’d been thrown off balance, even more than when Bacchus had knocked him on his ass. That had been the beginning of what felt like a transition.
The question he asked himself was what had he transitioned from and to?
All the words his siblings had thrown at him that night Kate had come to dinner at the ranch came back to him. His family had encouraged him to date. To get out there again. To find someone to love. They’d seen him as the empty shell of the man he’d become and didn’t want him to continue to live half a life.
For the two years following Sandy’s death, he had been living in a vacuum. Getting out of the military and returning to his home in Hellfire hadn’t been enough to set him free from his demons. In the one week Kate had been in town, he’d come further than the entire two years he’d been home. She’d woken him to the possibilities of finding someone he could love as much, if not more than Sandy. At the very least, someone he could love differently. Sandy would always be in his heart. She’d been his first love, and he would never
forget her. But he’d lived when she’d died.
Sandy wouldn’t have wanted him to mourn her forever. She would have been the first to tell him to shake out of it and get the hell on with living. He lay in the cot, thinking about Sandy—only the good memories. Not the last few minutes of her life, when he’d held her as she’d died in his arms. He remembered the smiling, happy Sandy who’d loved with all of her heart and hated to see anyone in physical or emotional pain.
As he held Kate’s hand, he could almost imagine Sandy smiling down at him…at last. She would have been happy for him to have found someone he cared about.
Kate had insisted they remain friends. If that was what she wanted, he would be that friend to her. For a while. In the meantime, he would show her how loyal and caring he could be, unlike the loser of a boyfriend, who’d betrayed her trust and taken advantage of her while she’d been deployed.
His free hand clenched into a fist. If he ever met the bastard…
Kate’s hand tightened in his. Her fingers were strong, yet supple, like her. She could run like the wind but got excited about a miniature horse.
If she could love him half as much as she loved her dog, he would consider himself a lucky man.
He slipped into a troubled sleep, where his dreams consisted of exploding buildings where Kate was injured, perhaps dying. His heart squeezed tightly in his chest, and he fought to breathe in air thick with smoke and destruction. She couldn’t die. He couldn’t bear to lose her. Though he’d only known her for a week, deep down he knew she was someone he could love for as long as they both should live.
He woke before dawn, Kate’s hand still in his. She lay on her good side, facing him, her breathing slow and steady. But she was breathing.
Chance heaved a sigh and lay in the limited light coming from beneath the door, staring at the silhouette of the woman beside him. This living, breathing woman cared about people and had risked her life to save them when she could have been killed herself.
Kate and Sandy were nothing alike in looks. Sandy had been blond-haired and blue-eyed. Kate had richly dark hair and incredible green eyes. As different as they were in looks, they were more alike in spirit. Both were willing to take risks with their lives by joining the military. Kate continued to take risks by signing on with the sheriff’s department. They were both brave in their own ways and wanted to be a part of something bigger than they were as individuals. Perhaps that was what had drawn Chance to both. He, too, had wanted to be a part of something bigger than himself. In the military, he’d given back to his country. As a firefighter, he helped protect his community.
Bacchus stirred and sat up.
Not wanting to disturb Kate, Chance reluctantly released her hand and eased himself off the cot as quietly as he could. He opened the door and motioned for Bacchus to follow.
The dog leaped to the floor and trotted alongside Chance as they walked down the hallway to the exit.
Once outside, the dog relieved himself, sniffed at the plants and shrubs for a few minutes, and then returned to Chance’s side.
“I bet you’re thirsty.” Chance led Bacchus back into the kitchen where he found a bowl, filled it with water and set it on the floor.
The dog spent a full minute lapping at the water, splashing droplets over the edge. When he was satisfied, he looked up at Chance and turned toward the hallway where the bedrooms were.
Kate stood there, wearing her tennis shoes, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Are we going for our run this morning?” she asked.
“Are you sure you should with that gash in your leg?”
She nodded. “It feels better already. And it wasn’t very deep, only a scratch.”
Knowing he wouldn’t talk her out of it, and not wanting her to run on her own, Chance nodded. “Give me a second to grab my shoes and my radio. I can’t go far from the station.”
“We can jog around town to keep us closer,” she said.
Chance hurried to get his shoes and returned a couple minutes later, ready to go.
They jogged in silence.
With his feelings still very close to the surface and kind of raw, Chance couldn’t voice any of them. And he was afraid that if he declared his growing attraction to her, he’d scare Kate away. She’d said on multiple occasions she wasn’t interested in starting a relationship after having failed so miserably with her last one.
What she didn’t understand was that she hadn’t failed. Her ex had been a complete ass and didn’t deserve to walk on the same ground as Kate. The man needed someone to kick his ass for what he’d done to Kate.
All those words roiled up inside Chance as he ran alongside Kate and Bacchus.
Her face was set in a grim determination as she kept a steady pace.
By the time they’d returned to the station, Chance could barely stand the silence. “Kate,” he said as they walked the last block. “We need to talk.”
She frowned down at her shoes. “Maybe. But does it have to be now?” She looked up, but not at him.
The station was within earshot, and some of the guys were outside spraying some of the gear down that had been used in the fire the night before. They would let it dry in the sun, and then pack it away later.
“No. Can we meet for dinner tonight? I’ll be off duty after breakfast.”
She hesitated, her hand going to Bacchus’s head. After she scratched the ruff of his neck, she finally responded, “Okay.”
“I’ll pick you up from the sheriff’s office when you get off work.”
She nodded, her lips quirking. “That’s just as well, since I don’t know where I’ll be hanging my hat tonight. I have to work on that today.”
They entered the station where breakfast was cooking. Bones had control of the kitchen and was issuing orders to whoever was standing nearby to set the table and pop more bread into the toaster.
Kate slipped through to the room where she’d stashed her things and hit the shower. Bacchus stayed in the kitchen with Chance, possibly hoping for some bites of bacon from a softhearted Bones.
Less than five minutes later, Kate appeared dressed in jeans, a sheriff’s department T-shirt and a pair of black combat boots. Her long dark hair was pulled straight back from her forehead into a tight ponytail at the nape of her neck.
She looked absolutely badass and took Chance’s breath away.
“Wow, Bradley,” Daniel said. “You look like you could kick some serious ass today.”
She smiled, softening the hardcore image and melting Chance’s heart in the process. He wasn’t sure he could wait until dinner that night to have that talk. Then again, at least he’d have another full day to enjoy before he scared her off.
She grabbed a piece of toast from the stack and headed for the door.
“Aren’t you staying for breakfast?” Bones asked before Chance could get the words out.
She held up the toast. “This is it. Thanks for your hospitability. I hope to find another place to live by this evening, so you won’t have to put up with me.”
“Are you kidding?” Daniel shook his head as he buttered another batch of toast. “You’re a lot better looking than Grayson’s ugly mug.” He winked. “Go get the bad guys. We’re here if you need us.”
Chance walked her out the door, wishing he felt as if he could joke with her as easily as his friend. Instead, he felt as if he were walking on eggshells, and anything he had to say would make her end things with him on the spot. That evening, he’d tell her how he felt. If she didn’t feel the same, she’d tell him. Then he’d at least know where he stood. If there was hope, and she wanted to explore the possibilities at a slower pace, he could do that, too. He wasn’t ready to give up on something that, in his mind, was just beginning.
Kate left the station with her backpack slung over her shoulder, Bacchus on a lead beside her.
Chance watched until they disappeared a couple blocks away into the sheriff’s office.
When he went back inside the station, Daniel met him w
ith a mug of coffee. “Here, you look like you could use some caffeine.”
“You know me well,” he said and took the steaming mug from his friend.
“Sit down, have some breakfast and tell me what’s going through that mind of yours. You look like you’re about to lose your best friend.”
He sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Chapter 12
Kate spent the first part of the day riding with Nash in the service SUV, checking on the burn site, her apartment and other areas of town. They answered a couple calls, one about a horse loose on a country road. They’d herded the animal back into its fence and talked with the owner about shoring up the gate it had escaped through. Another call was from a woman who was certain someone had stolen the diamond necklace her husband had given to her on their fiftieth wedding anniversary.
Kate and Nash had helped her search her house for the missing necklace only to find it where she’d left it—hidden in a secret drawer where she’d been sure no one would think to look for it. Apparently, she hadn’t remembered putting it there, until she’d found it.
After noon, Nash had paperwork to do in the office, which gave Kate time to work with Bacchus behind the building. She’d checked out a canvas bag with trace amounts of cocaine inside.
Bacchus had responded well to detecting cannabis no matter where she’d hidden it. He was even getting used to sitting instead of lying down when he detected drugs. She’d switched several times between the drugs and the C4 to make certain he detected the difference.
As always, Bacchus was smart—and Kate couldn’t fully accept credit for how quickly he learned.
An hour into training with the cocaine, Bacchus was finding it hidden in the different places she could leave it…beneath a stack of pallets, under the stack of tires and beneath her backpack she’d brought along to use as a different place to hide the drugs.
Each time, Bacchus sniffed around the perimeter and eventually found the drug.
