Mike’s grin fell. “You think he might hire someone?”
“I don’t know what to think at this point. But I’m sure as hell not ruling anything out. And I’m not going to let my ego get the better of me. If the shit hits the fan, I want your help.”
“You don’t even have to ask, man. You know it’s a given.”
“Thanks.”
His younger brother winked at a cute server as she walked by, then shot a curious look at Ben. “I’m surprised you’re not with Reese now. If she was mine, I’d be stuck to her like white on rice.”
He gave a frustrated sigh, slumping back in his chair. “She may look all cute and clueless, but the woman has a stubborn streak a mile long.”
His brother laughed. “She kicked you out on your ass?”
“More or less,” he admitted with a scowl.
Mike ran his tongue over the edge of his teeth and smiled. “I knew there was a good reason I liked her.”
“You think this is funny?” Ben growled.
“Not the part about some dickhead screwing with her life,” Mike clarified, wiping the foam off his top lip after taking a drink of his beer. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t going to enjoy seeing a woman finally give you a run for your money.”
“A warning, Mike.” Ben’s voice was quiet, but hard. “I’m not in the mood for your shit tonight.”
His brother opened his mouth, no doubt ready to make another smart-ass comment, when his gaze shot over Ben’s shoulder and he grimaced. “Shit.”
Ben sat up a little straighter. “What is it?”
Mike reached for his beer again. “Alex looks rough tonight.”
Looking over his shoulder, Ben watched as his older brother cut his way through the crowded bar. He didn’t look drunk, thank God. But the guy didn’t look like he was in a good place, either.
He hated seeing Alex this way. Before he’d met Judith, Alex had been full of life. Always laughing, smiling. Now the guy looked like his face might crack if he so much as grinned. He’d managed to stop drinking, and work was going well for him, but Ben knew damn well that inside, where it counted, Alex was still carrying too many scars.
It was a sobering thought, reminding Ben why he liked to keep things casual and light. Why he didn’t let himself get twisted up over a woman. Ever.
Of course, that’d always been easy. Until now. It was just Reese who screwed with his head and made him feel like a fucking addict. Every place he put his mouth on her, she tasted warm and sweet. Her lips. Her breasts. But the juices that spilled between her soft little thighs were what nearly killed him, they were so incredible. He wanted that slick honey in his mouth again. Wanted the feel and the warmth of it on his lips, sliding over his tongue. And, damn it, he wanted back inside her. Wanted that crazy feeling of being . . . Hell, he didn’t even know how to describe it. All he knew was that he wanted it so much that he ached.
And she’d blown him off.
Shit.
Reaching for his beer, Ben gritted his teeth, determined not to spend his night thinking about the frustrating female. Instead, he was going to hang out with his brothers, find out what was bothering Alex, and do his best to keep a certain little stubborn schoolteacher out of his head.
* * *
REESE STARED AT THE SMALL SCREEN ON HER PHONE AND BLINKED. When she’d heard the text alert go off, she’d lunged for the phone, which had been sitting on the kitchen counter, hoping it might be Ben. He still wasn’t home—yes, she’d been listening for his truck—and she had no one to blame but herself. He’d asked to spend the evening with her, and like an idiot, she’d turned him down again.
Shaking her head, she focused her mind back on the problem at hand. Instead of a text from Ben, which would have made her night, she was staring at another message from a blocked number.
i love the flowers
A shiver slipped down her spine, and she quickly headed for the front door to make sure it was locked. Yeah, she’d felt reasonably comfortable blowing off the first text as a fluke, considering she’d only just gotten to town and the number was new. But this was too freaky. She’d spent the later part of the day hanging all her new baskets along the back of the house, as well as filling the new flower pots she’d bought at the garden center. Whoever had sent this new text might have been watching her, and she shuddered, pacing the floors of her house, too restless to sit still.
Despite how badly she didn’t want it to be true, it was becoming more and more likely that someone was sending her these texts on purpose. But who? God, who had she pissed off so much that they felt the need to try to scare the shit out of her?
Forget tried, muttered her inner voice. If it’s not the nightmares, it’s this crap. I’ve had enough!
Reese winced, another queasy shudder wracking her frame as she thought about the cat nightmare she’d had last night. It’d been the same as all the other times. She woke up gasping, drenched in sweat, arms flailing blindly as she tried to fight off the shadow crawling over her, while she lay in a sea of mutilated cat bodies. When she’d jerked herself out of the nightmare, she’d wished like hell that she’d had Ben there beside her, his hard chest to cuddle against. But it’d been her own fault that she hadn’t. She was the one who’d sent him home, as if not sleeping beside him was going to help her keep some kind of perspective. Not likely. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the gorgeous lawman the entire day.
Moving into the sitting room, she glanced at the French doors, wishing she’d already ordered the vintage bamboo blinds for them that she’d found online. Despite the longer summer days, it was after nine and her patio was barely lit by the shadowy moonlight. As she moved farther into the room, wanting to double-check that the doors were locked, she could have sworn she felt a set of eyes following her movements from the darkness.
Okay. So there were really only two options here. Run from the room screaming and call Ben, begging him to come over, when she’d already refused to go out with him tonight. Or stop letting this asshole screw with her emotions and let him know she wasn’t going to be so easily cowed. And she could do that by going out there and giving him a dose of his own medicine.
And if it was Drew out there, she was going to beat the living shit out of him!
Setting down her phone and picking up the hammer she’d left on the coffee table after hanging a framed Klimt print over the fireplace earlier, Reese took a deep breath and headed for the French doors. With a flick of the lock, she ripped the newly repaired doors open and stepped out into the humid night, scanning the shadowy bushes that lined the patio. The air was warmer than inside the house, where the air conditioner was running. Sweeter. Heavier. She stared into the sultry darkness, lungs working, fueled by rage. Her fingers tightened on the hammer, ready to swing in defense if anyone tried to screw with her. She was so tired of this nauseating feeling weighing her down. Just wanted to be left the hell alone so that she could get on with her life!
Was it Drew watching her from the cover of darkness? Was he really that sick? Or was it some other jackass screwing with her? The same one from Boston? Or someone new? And why her? What had she done to draw some wack job’s attention?
A minute went by, then two. Reese stood there just outside the doorway, glaring into the shadows, daring whoever was out there to come forward. When another minute passed with nothing but the rapid sound of her breathing to fill the air, she lowered her shoulders, wondering if she was losing her mind. Then she caught the sound of Ben’s truck driving onto their shared driveway, and everything low in her body clenched tight, her thoughts momentarily scrambled, her fear nearly forgotten.
Not wanting to look like she was out on the patio waiting for him, Reese hurried back inside, pulling the French doors shut and then quickly locking them. Thinking Ben would head straight into his own place, she turned to make her way back toward the front of the house, where she could set the alarm. She nearly jumped a foot when she heard someone rap on the glass. Spinning arou
nd, she let out a sharp breath of relief at the sight of Ben standing there on the back patio.
Oh, thank God.
Still carrying the hammer, Reese opened the doors. Without a word, she flicked her gaze over his tall body, taking in the casual white button-down shirt with its sleeves rolled up on his forearms. It had been left open at the throat, and made his shoulders look a mile wide. Then she took in the worn-in jeans and the scuffed boots on his big feet. The guy looked good in anything he wore, but she especially loved him like this, when he had this sexy, rugged, I’m-comfortable-in-my-own-skin thing going on. He could have given Jude Law a run for his money in those cologne ads any day of the week.
And the fact that he was a lawman—a badass who spent his life protecting people and putting the scum of the earth behind bars—only made him sexier. She wanted so desperately to cling to him, but that would be a disaster, driving him away faster than anything. Despite his protective instincts, she knew Ben wasn’t the kind of man who could ever handle being tied down or shackled by commitment.
But, God, it was tempting. He looked so hard and capable and strong. Looked as if nothing in the world could break him.
“Hey,” she murmured, being the first to break the weighted silence that had settled between them. And then she heard herself ask, “Did you go out straight from work?”
Ben fought the urge to smile, uncharacteristically pleased that she’d noticed he hadn’t been home. Normally, that kind of attention from a woman would have driven him bat-shit. But not with Reese.
Answering her question, he said, “Yeah.”
She flicked another look over his clothes. “Don’t sheriffs have to wear those little outfits?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not a freaking clown, Reese. I don’t wear a fucking outfit.”
“You know what I mean. The whole uniform thing.”
“Yeah, well, that’s one of the great things about being in charge. I don’t have to wear anything I don’t want to,” he said in a low drawl, crossing his arms over his chest before propping his shoulder against the doorjamb. He let his heavy-lidded eyes do a slow pass over her own little getup, liking the way she looked in the skimpy tank top and cutoffs. Of course, he liked it better when she was wearing nothing at all. Bringing his gaze back up to her face, he finished his explanation, saying, “And I usually keep some extra clothes at the station.”
“Did you, um, have a good time tonight?”
With a nod, he said, “I grabbed some burgers and beers with Mike and Alex.”
“Oh!” she gasped, giving a little cough. “Well, that’s great that you guys get to, uh, hang out like that.”
Reese had tried to hide her relief at the news that he’d merely been out with his brothers, but she must not have done a very good job of it, because a frown started to weave its way between his dark brows. Then he growled a really pissed off sounding question at her.
“What the hell did you think I was doing?”
10
REALIZING SHE’D INSULTED HIM WITH HER SURPRISED REACTION, REESE was ready to tell Ben she was sorry, but he cut her off before she could get a single word out.
“I told you yesterday that I don’t juggle women. How many times do I have to say it, Reese? And remember that you’re the one who turned me down tonight. Not the other way around.”
“You’re right,” she said in a rush, holding up her hand. “I’m sorry. I really wasn’t trying to accuse you of anything. I swear it.”
He didn’t say anything in response. Just pushed away from the doorjamb and came inside, pulling the door shut behind him.
“Please lock it!”
Ben froze at the sound of panic in her voice. Grinding his jaw, he studied her tense expression, then lowered his gaze, taking in the hammer she was holding in her fist. He’d assumed she’d been hanging pictures around the house, but now he realized she was holding the damn thing like a weapon. “What the hell’s going on?”
Setting the hammer down on the coffee table, she said, “I just got a little spooked right before you got home. I . . . well, I felt like someone was watching me.”
His eyes went wide, anger surging through his system in a blistering rush. “And you didn’t call me?”
She gave a little laugh as she brought her gaze back to his. “I’m not going to bother you every time I get spooked, Ben.”
“Just tell me what happened,” he forced through his gritted teeth, wanting to shake some sense into her.
“I . . . I had a weird feeling that someone was watching me through the glass.”
His gaze cut to the hammer, then back to her. “Did you go outside with that thing?”
“Um . . .”
His quiet voice lashed with fury. “Answer the fucking question, Reese.”
She bristled, chin up, shoulders back. “Yes, okay! I went outside! But only because I was pissed after getting another one of those stupid texts!”
“What’d it say this time?”
She grabbed her phone off the coffee table and handed it to him. “Here, see for yourself.”
He thumbed the screen on, hitting the messages icon, and read. Son of a bitch.
“I want to take your phone into work with me tomorrow,” he told her. “See if our IT guys can make anything of it.”
“Okay. But I really doubt that it’s Drew, if that’s what you’re still thinking.”
Ben gave her a hard stare. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, rolling her shoulder. “It just doesn’t seem his style.”
His chest shook with a grim, humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, you’d be surprised what a shredded ego can do to a man’s sense of style.”
“But his ego should be fine. He’s the one who cheated on me!”
“And you’re the woman who left his ass,” he said, slipping her phone into his back pocket. “If you don’t think that fucked over his ego, then you don’t know jack shit about men.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Did you come over here just to insult me?”
Closing the distance between them, Ben put his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. Resting his chin on the top of her head, he stroked a hand down her spine, sliding the other under her hair to curve around the back of her neck. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bark at you. I just want this asshole to leave you alone.”
“Me, too,” she mumbled into his shirt.
He brushed his lips against the tender parting in her hair. “I’m going to have the Boston PD keep an eye on Leighton.”
She tensed, then gradually relaxed as she exhaled a slow breath of air. “All right. But if he’s in Boston, how would he even know about the flowers to send that text?”
“People have their ways, Reese. And he’s got to know you pretty well after living with you for so many years. He probably figured one of the first things you’d do was buy flowers.”
Drawing her head back, Reese locked her gaze with his. “You’re right. I guess I’m just not thinking straight.” She covered her mouth with her hand as she yawned, then immediately blushed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
His lopsided smile was unbelievably beautiful. “With the stress you’ve been under, I’m surprised you can even stay on your feet.” He moved his hand to her face, his touch gentle as he rubbed his thumb under her eye. “You look exhausted.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Exhausted, but still incredibly beautiful,” he clarified in that soft, rough-as-sin voice that always rolled through her like a provocative lick of heat. Her insides clenched, and she was secretly thrilled by the twinge of discomfort she still felt deep inside from the powerful way he’d taken her. The passion between them the day before had been nothing short of explosive, and from the moment she’d first opened her eyes that morning, she’d savored every sensual ache that reminded her of just how possessive he’d been.
“Come on,” he rumbled, turning her toward the hallway and swatting her bottom. “It’s bed for you, sweetheart. You
’re beat.”
“We still need to lock that door.” She sounded a little breathless, but then, it was impossible not to be excited by the idea that he might join her in bed for a bit before heading home. God only knew she wouldn’t be able to tell him no if he touched her. She’d been dying for his touch all freaking day, the need always simmering just beneath her surface, like an electrical current that couldn’t be switched off.
“I’ve got it.” He walked back to the French doors, then looked back at her over his shoulder as he opened them up again. “Stay right there. I just want to take a quick look around outside.”
Reese started to shout for him to stay where he was, but he was already gone, pulling the doors shut behind him. She paced from one side of the room to the other, hating the idea of him going out there and facing some unknown danger in the darkness because of her. Didn’t the crazy man know that it’d kill her if anything happened to him? It didn’t matter that she knew he was tough enough to handle whatever this sicko jerk might try, if there really was someone out there. But he wasn’t invincible, damn it. The bullet scars on his body were proof enough of that.
He came back a minute later, though it’d felt like a lifetime. “If anyone was out there, they’re gone now,” he said, twisting the dead bolt into place, before making his way back to her. Completely clueless about how badly he’d just worried her, he asked, “You’ve locked everything else?”
She nodded as she drew in a deep breath, still too upset to speak, and he took her hand, pulling her along behind him as he headed for her bedroom. He let go when they reached the bed, leaving her standing at the foot as he moved to the far side, where a small table sat between the mattress and the wall. Unlike the table on the right side of the bed, where she had a small reading lamp and some books, this one was empty. She had a vase that she planned to put there, along with a few picture frames, but hadn’t unpacked them yet. Ben, however, seemed ready to claim the table as his own.
She watched him with a notch between her brows as he emptied the pockets in his jeans, setting his wallet, their phones, and a handful of coins on the table. Then he opened the small drawer, reached back under his shirt, pulled his gun from his waistband, and placed the weapon inside the drawer before closing it.
Take Me Under Page 15
