Lucky Like Us

by Jennifer Ryan

  “I don’t know. It’s something. I don’t know. Never mind. You said no one is here, so I’m sure it’s fine. It’s fine,” she repeated, wondering if her nerves could take this.

  “Elizabeth, I know you’re scared and uneasy about being here after what happened. You’ll settle down once you’ve gotten accustomed to being home again. Mark and John will watch the outside of the building. You won’t see them, but they’ll be out there just the same. I’ll stay here with you. Wherever you go, I go. Tyler will be in and out too. We’re all here to protect you.”

  “I know. I’m being stupid. John, Mark, I’m sorry. You guys can do whatever you need to do. You’re welcome to come in and raid the fridge and coffee pot whenever you want.”

  “They won’t make their presence known, Elizabeth. They aren’t hanging out with us. We want to protect you, but also make it seem like this guy can come after you, so we can catch him. You do understand that, right?”

  “Yes. I’m tired. I’m not thinking clearly. Please, feel free to go to Decadence and have all the free coffee and food you’d like. I’ll call the shop and tell them. I’m sure you know it’s not far from here.” She hobbled toward the kitchen. Maybe she’d whip something up and she’d feel better. She always felt better when cooking.

  “Okay. Thanks, Elizabeth,” John said. “And remember, if you see us in the shop when you’re there or outside, pretend you don’t know us. We’re keeping watch over you.” He and Mark left after that to take up their posts outside.

  “They’ll search the area around the building and make sure no one is watching the place. They’ll also check out the neighboring abandoned warehouses to make sure they’re empty,” Sam explained to satisfy her doubts and fears.

  She made it into her kitchen and leaned the crutches up against the counter. Maybe she’d make Sam and herself some lunch. Then she’d take a nap. Sam spoke with the agents and closed and locked the front door. He pulled the curtains shut, which made the room darker, but the second story windows kept the place fairly well lit.

  Sliding the bakery box closer, she opened the lid and gasped. Someone had carved the word BITCH into the chocolate icing. She stood frozen, eyes locked on the ominous cake. Finally regaining some of her composure, she looked up toward Sam, who had turned on the big screen TV in the living area. He was about to sit on the couch and watch a ball game when she called out to him, “Sam, did you get this cake?”

  Her voice shook with fear, making him turn to her. She never took her eyes off the cake, like it might somehow attack her if she looked away.

  “I asked Patrick to pick it up this morning from your shop. You were giving me a hard time about us eating the cake on Sunday, so I thought you might like a welcome home cake. Why?” he asked concerned.

  “I really prefer it when you call me sweetheart to this,” she indicated the cake.

  Sam came over and slammed his hands down on the counter. “Shit! Someone’s been here.”

  And then it dawned on her. “Sam, have you seen the Muffin Man?”

  He raised an eyebrow and asked, “Who is the Muffin Man?”

  Any other time, she’d have teased and asked, “Do you know the Muffin Man?” But this wasn’t the time and she couldn’t joke when she felt like she was standing in someone’s crosshairs.

  “My cat is missing. He always comes out to see me when I get home.”

  “Maybe Patrick let him out this morning when he left?”

  “He doesn’t go out, except . . . maybe he’s on the roof. I have a sitting area up there and he likes to come up with me. Maybe Patrick had his coffee on the roof this morning and the Muffin Man got locked out. Patrick can sometimes forget about him because he doesn’t like him.”

  “Patrick doesn’t like your cat?”

  “The cat doesn’t like Patrick, or anyone for that matter. He only likes me.”

  “Who doesn’t like you, sweetheart?” He gave her a smile and hoped she’d forget about the cake for a minute. “I’ll go upstairs and see if he’s up there. Maybe he’s curled up on your bed or something.”

  “He hasn’t seen me in weeks. He’d come down. He always comes when I get home. Something is terribly wrong. I know it.” Her hands shook, and her stomach felt like a river swirled around inside.

  Sam’s warm hands cupped her face. “We’ll find him. I’ll go upstairs and check. You check the rooms down here. Maybe he’s hiding because of all the strangers.”

  The kiss he planted on her forehead allowed her to exhale and breathe again. With a soft push from him, she started toward the spare room.

  “Take your crutches, sweetheart.”

  “I can walk a little. My leg gets sore quickly, but the therapist said to keep using it to get the strength back. I’m fine.”

  Sam went upstairs and checked the first door leading into the master bathroom. He never went in, but closed the door and headed down the open landing. He paused in front of her bedroom. With his hand on his gun, he opened the door and went into the room. Elizabeth waited for him to come out. He did a minute later, and made his way up the set of stairs at the end of the landing and through the hatch, more like a large skylight, which opened up onto the roof. He disappeared, and she checked the downstairs spare room where Patrick had slept.

  The room was empty. She checked under the bed and went through the adjoining bathroom. She exited into her living area and went to her office.

  Opening the door slowly, she searched inside and under her desk. He wasn’t there. Patrick knew better than to let the cat out, but maybe he had run out without Patrick seeing him. She unlocked and opened the back door and stepped out into the back alley where Patrick liked to park his car.

  “Muffin Man,” she called to the cat and listened for his meow. “Here kitty kitty.”

  Nothing. No soft meow. Not even a hiss of displeasure, telling her he was mad she’d been gone too long. Dejected, she turned to go back inside and stopped mid-step, frozen by the horrific bold letters carved into the paint on the door: I’LL GET YOU NEXT TIME.

  A soft mewling drew her attention to the wood palette beside her garbage cans. Her little Muffin Man’s nose poked out of the crevice he’d wedged himself into between the wood and brick building. Her knees buckled and she sank to the ground. She reached out for him and he sprang forward, but landed hard on his chin when his front paw gave out. She grabbed him and pulled him to her chest, his front leg bent at an odd angle. She gave him a squeeze to keep him steady and he growled in pain. She buried her face in his neck and cried. This would never end, until they found the man responsible and put him away for the rest of his life.

  Sam checked the upstairs and roof and found nothing. His devil friends stomped up his spine. Elizabeth was worried and looking to him to make things safe. Here, in her own home, she should feel safe, especially with three FBI agents watching her and the house. But someone had gotten past them and written a threatening message in the cake and her cat went missing. Not a good start to his assignment to protect her.

  On his way down the stairs, the hairs on the back of his neck rose when he scanned the empty living space. The creepy feeling danced up his spine again.

  “Elizabeth.” He called out to her, but didn’t hear anything. The back door stood open a crack, and he raced to it, hoping no one had come in and taken her. He flew through the door and stopped short when he found her on the ground crying, a ball of fur in her arms. At first, he thought she’d hurt herself, and then she looked up and behind him. He turned around and faced the ominous message.

  “Shit.”

  He grabbed an empty cardboard box from beside the recycling bin and kneeled down beside her. She gently laid her cat inside and gave him a soft pet on the head. Weak from pain and his injuries, the Muffin Man backed into the corner of the box and stared, his ears laid back in warning.

  “I think he’s got a broken leg and rib.”

  Her trembling voice tore at his heart. He wanted to rage at whoever had done this to her and the c
at. Not only had this guy tried to kill her, but now he terrorized her with threats and cruelty to her beloved pet.

  “We’ll get him to the pet hospital, sweetheart.”

  “He’s going to pay for this,” she threatened, her eyes wide with fear, hurt, and a determination he admired.

  Sam stood and pulled her up by her hands. He picked up the box and ignored the hissing cat. Her feet dragged from exhaustion. No matter what else was happening, he needed to take care of her.

  He thought he’d lost her again and his heart nearly thundered right out of his chest. Holding her close with his arm around her waist to support her weight, he pulled the door open and took her inside.

  She settled on a stool at the kitchen counter and he sat the box in front of her. She peered over the edge and spoke in a gentle reassuring tone to the cat, brushing her fingertips along his head between his ears.

  At a loss for what to say, Sam kissed her on the temple twice before pulling out his cell phone and dialing John. “Get in here, we have a problem. Someone’s been in the house. They left a message in the cake and back door and hurt Elizabeth’s cat.” He hung up and stared down at Elizabeth’s bent head. Her shoulders slumped and her crooning voice grew weary. Unable to stand it any longer, he scooped her into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen.

  “My cat,” she protested, her sad eyes pleading with him.

  “I’ll take care of him after I take care of you.”

  With her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her face buried in his neck, wet tears dampening his skin, he carried her upstairs to her bed and laid her on the soft cover. He pulled the blanket draped across the end of the bed over her and kissed her soft lips. He brushed the hair away from the side of her face and kept his hand against her head. With a sweep of his thumb, he wiped the tears from her too-pale cheek. The dark circles under her eyes worried him.

  “You just got out of the hospital. You need to sleep, sweetheart.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he kissed the words away. “Please, I will protect you, even if it’s from yourself.”

  Too tired to fight him, she settled into the pillow and mattress with an exhausted sigh.

  Her eyes drooped closed and he watched her for a moment before he went downstairs to deal with the cake and cat. When he got his hands on the person responsible for this, they would wish they’d never hurt his Elizabeth.

  Chapter Thirty

  * * *

  ELIZABETH WOKE TO the dim light of sunset darkening her room. Sam sat in the rocking chair in the corner watching her, his blue eyes intense. She sat up on the bed and faced him, hoping it had all been just a bad dream. She’d met him at some party, instead of lying in the street.

  “The cops are gone,” he began in an unfamiliar flat tone. “They took the Muffin Man to the animal hospital. The vet called and said in addition to his broken leg, he’s got three broken ribs, but they think he’ll pull through. I’m sorry about your cat, sweetheart. The cops printed the cake box and the back door, but if it’s the same guy who came to the hospital, there won’t be any. I don’t know what to say. We checked the place top to bottom before we brought you home. The alley is easily accessible. After John left us off here, he checked the alley to be sure no one was there. There’s no place to hide, so he didn’t come all the way down to the door. He didn’t see the words on the door or the cat. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

  Not a dream at all, she thought, but a living nightmare that got worse and worse. She held her hand out to Sam because she needed him close. When he was near, nothing else mattered. She waited for him to come to her. He rose slowly and sat on the edge of the bed. Taking her hand, he leaned down and kissed her palm. She didn’t say a word. Fisting his shirt in one hand, she pulled him down on top of her as she lay back on the bed. She wrapped an arm around his neck, leaned up, and planted her mouth over his. When he tried to pull back, so he didn’t crush her, she pulled him closer. She wanted to feel his weight and taste his lips and forget the rest of the world. Safe. Warm. Strong. All those things and so much more for her. She wanted him like she’d never wanted anyone.

  Life was too short not to grab hold of something as good and precious as what she felt when she and Sam were together.

  Intoxicated by her scent, the feel of her soft skin, the taste of her, everything. If he didn’t stop soon, he wouldn’t be able to stop at all. She held on to him with all her might as he crushed her into the bed. She didn’t seem to care and pulled him as close to her as possible. He didn’t object to being there. He ran his hand over her head and down her cheek to her neck and shoulder. Pressing her down into the bed, he lifted his head and stared down into her eyes.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart. Your back is still bandaged, and so is your thigh.” She rocked her hips against his hard cock, and he groaned. With his forehead against hers, eyes locked, he said, “Honey, you’re not making it easy for me to be a gentleman and let you recover.”

  She rocked her hips against him again and again to let him know she didn’t want to stop. She leaned up and kissed his neck, grabbed his hair and pulled his mouth back to hers. Her hands skimmed down his hard back to his waist. She pulled the T-shirt out of his waistband and up and over his head and let it sail off the bed to land on the floor. She ran her hands over the smooth muscles in his back. So much strength in him. He kissed his way down her neck to the V in her shirt and the top of her breast.

  “I want every inch of your skin against every inch of mine, Sam. I don’t want you thinking about the scars. I want you wanting me.”

  “I do want you, sweetheart.” He came up and leaned on his elbows, holding himself over her. “I don’t care about the scars. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  His hot, wet mouth pressed against the swell of her breast, his tongue swept across her skin, leaving a blazing trail of heat. His big hand cupped her breast and his thumb swept over her nipple, bringing it erect. She shivered from the ripple of passion radiating through her and moaned when he continued to rub his thumb over the sensitive pebble in slow circles.

  “Oh God, Sam. Show me how much you want me, because I want you more than I want to breathe right now.” She leaned up and kissed him again, her hands trailing down his hard chest, over his flat, taut stomach to his belt. She undid it and his jeans. When her hands went to his hips to push the jeans down, she accidentally grabbed his gun.

  Consumed with her, Sam had forgotten all about his gun—at least the one on his hip—until she went absolutely still in his arms. He leaned back and pulled the gun from his belt and put it on the table beside the bed.

  He waited a moment to see if she’d changed her mind.

  Should have known better. Thank God.

  In an attempt to drive him even crazier, her nimble hands glided over him again and again. He went back to her, gently pulling her pants down her legs and trailing kisses down her uninjured thigh. Grabbing her hands, he pulled her up and took his flannel and her white T-shirt off. He bent to her and took her taut nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking while he wrapped an arm around her back and lowered her gently to the bed. He cupped her breast, brought it up to his hungry mouth, and feasted. Always careful where he touched her and put his weight, he gave in and caressed every inch of her with one reverent stroke after another.

  He moved to her other breast, savored the taste of her. Smoothing his hand down her stomach, he found the very treasure he sought. He hadn’t removed her panties, so he stroked her through the thin barrier while she rocked her hips against his hand. Her body responded, hot and wet for him, he moaned with pleasure and dined at her breasts. Kissing his way up to her throat and jaw, he made his way up to her mouth. Stroking his tongue over hers, he slipped his hand into her panties to rub and slide one finger, then two, into her slick core. Hot and tight, he wanted to be deep inside her—now.

  When his finger entered her, she thrust forward and welcomed him. Muscles trembling, that familiar ache increased.


  “Oh God, Sam. I want you. Don’t stop.” She felt so free and cherished. So gentle and demanding at the same time, he coaxed her to respond to every reverent touch. Her whole body flamed, and with each stroke of his fingers that fire burned hotter.

  He rubbed his thumb over the sensitive little nub and sent her skyrocketing over the edge. She bucked and moved against him, wave after wave of heat rocked her.

  As the trembling subsided, he leaned back away from her. “I don’t have any protection with me. Do you have something?” He wanted her, but he was always careful and the last thing she or he needed was a baby on the way.

  “I’m on the pill.” She had a momentary second thought about its effectiveness, since she’d been in the hospital and missed several days. Then he moved over her, and she could only want. “I haven’t had sex since my last year of college, and even then, only with one guy. You’re safe with me.”

  “I’m blown away. You’ve only been with one guy,” he said, completely surprised. “Are you sure you want to do this? Maybe you’re just upset, or . . .”

  “Sam, I don’t care if you’ve been with one woman or a hundred. I know you’re smart and careful, and you don’t use people.” She slipped her hand into his jeans and took him into her palm, gently squeezing. Her hand stroked up and down his hard shaft. Heat and strength radiated from him, and she loved how he felt in her hand and the sound he made deep in his throat as her palm and fingers worked over the smooth skin.

  She kissed his neck and nibbled her way to his ear. “I know what I want. It’s you, Sam. I’ve never wanted anyone more. I want you inside of me and wrapped around me. Please, Sam, don’t make me beg.”

  Something snapped inside of him, and in the next second her panties disappeared along with his jeans. Still holding him as he came back to her, she guided his hard length to her before she gripped his hips and pulled him hard and deep inside her. She felt wonderful and powerful. She’d never been so daring or adventurous.