by Sherri Hayes
“Hey,” he said to get her attention. When she looked up, he reached out and touched the side of her face. “There’s nothing wrong with desire. It’s perfectly natural. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m attracted to you, as well.”
Unfortunately, she didn’t answer. Her only reaction was a blank stare before turning her attention back to her meal.
Chapter 12
It wasn’t until the following morning, while checking in with her partner, that it hit her Gage had ordered her dinner for her. As soon as it did, she wanted to run out of her room and make it perfectly clear that she didn’t appreciate his chauvinistic display of caveman behavior. She was perfectly capable of ordering her own food and making any other decisions in her life that needed making.
After hanging up the phone, she stood and marched to the door to do just that. By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, she was poised to attack, ready to put him in his place and make him wish he’d never met her. He wasn’t in the kitchen or anywhere else she could see, so she stalked to the basement stairs ready to do battle. The lights were out, and she started to lose steam when she couldn’t locate him.
It took her another five minutes of searching before she caught a glimpse of red outside on the back patio and followed it. There, Gage sat on a lounge chair with his head bowed, shoulders slumped. Something in his posture sent a prickle up her spine.
He glanced up when she opened the door and stepped out into the cool November air. His eyes were haunted. “What’s happened?”
He picked up an envelope she hadn’t seen lying on the ground next to him, and then he held it out to her. It was the same kind of envelope the other pictures had arrived in, the same barely legible handwriting on the front. Before she looked inside, she already had a pretty good idea of what she’d find.
She motioned for him to lay it down on the small cocktail table beside him. “I’ll be right back.” Before he could say another word, she went back into the house and up to her room. She hadn’t brought a lot with her, but she rarely went anywhere without a pair of latex gloves.
When she returned to the patio, Gage was sitting exactly where she’d left him. “How was it delivered?” she asked, pulling the gloves tight over her small hands.
“The mailman found it at the gate.” He had a defeated expression on his face, one she’d not seen from him before.
“So he touched it.”
Gage frowned. “Of course he touched it.”
“Did he touch the others, too?” she asked, pausing before she picked up the envelope to examine it more closely.
“Yeah, I guess.”
When she first picked up the envelope, she noticed it was a little thicker than the others had been. “We’re going to want his fingerprints. I’m sure they’re already on file, but it will be easier getting them directly from him, if he’s willing. It’ll take a while to get anything back from the lab, but we might as well have his ready to be eliminated.” She gently opened the envelope and removed the small stack of pictures.
As she flipped through the photographs, she was filled with too many emotions to name. Every single one of them had been taken on Monday night at the bar. Someone had been there taking pictures of them, and she’d missed them. How could she not have noticed?
The pictures were taken from all different angles throughout the night. Some were of them sitting at the table with Zach and Kenny. There were even some with Angie. Seeing her again brought another surge of anger. Not wanting to try and analyze her feelings over the woman again at that exact moment, Rebecca focused on the details. Some of the pictures were blurry, while others were crystal clear. Most of the pictures looked to have been taken by a camera with the ability to zoom in. That would’ve taken time to focus the picture. She would have seen that.
She closed her eyes and tried to recall seeing anyone who could have taken all these pictures. Anyone who would have stood out. There were people there with cameras taking pictures, but other than the occasional snapshot of the group by various individuals, no one had set off alarm bells. The whole situation was frustrating. She felt as if she’d failed to do her job, and maybe she had. She’d been so wrapped up in Gage that she’d missed something. Obviously.
Kicking herself, she placed the pictures back inside the envelope. “I need to get these to Hansen. I’ll have him meet me at the café again once you’re safely inside the stadium. You need to leave for practice soon, don’t you?” she asked, glancing at her watch.
He appeared to be in some kind of haze. At her mention of practice, his face cleared a little. Looking down at the watch on his wrist, he uttered a curse before running inside. Before she knew it, he was bounding back down the stairs, duffle bag in hand. “You ready to go?”
“Sure,” Rebecca said uncertainly.
She watched him, waiting for a sign of . . . well, she wasn’t sure exactly. He’d gone from extremely distant to a man on a mission.
Grabbing their coats, they were out the door and into his SUV on their way to the stadium in a matter of seconds. Not once on the way there did Gage flirt with her or make any inappropriate comments. For some reason, it bothered her, although she didn’t understand why. Wasn’t this what she’d been wanting from him all along?
When they arrived at the players’ parking lot, he turned off the engine but didn’t get out. “You’ll be careful today?”
Rebecca’s eyes widened. “I’m always careful.”
“I know. I just . . . just be careful.”
Before she could say anything more, he was gone.
She watched him jog into the stadium and disappear before getting out of the vehicle and walking across the street to the little café. It was perfect. They had decent food and coffee. Plus, they were directly across the street from the players’ lot. It couldn’t have been more ideal.
After ordering herself a large coffee with extra cream and a Danish pastry, she slid into one of the front booths. She took a bite of her pastry before pulling out her phone and dialing Hansen. They hadn’t scheduled a meeting, but this was important. She’d known Gage’s stalker had to have been there on Monday night given the incident afterward, but no one had tripped her radar inside the bar. They needed to come up with some leads and soon, before whoever it was took another shot at him—or worse.
Practice Wednesday didn’t turn out to be as horrible as Gage had expected. Granted, he was made to run laps for his tardiness, but once he got out on the field, all his frustrations turned into focused energy. His receivers complained their chests and hands were hurting from the force of his throws. Never before had he cared that whoever this was had photographed him with women. Seeing Rebecca in the pictures, however, sent his blood boiling and left him feeling completely helpless. He wasn’t used to that, and he didn’t like it.
When they arrived back home, Hansen was there waiting for them. It was a long night. They sat around Gage’s dining room table eating pizza and going over every photograph. Hansen wanted to know where each one had been found, who had access to each location, and how many people had touched the envelopes. The interrogation—that’s what it felt like anyway—went on until almost midnight. After the restless night he’d had before, he fell into his bed and was asleep within minutes.
Hansen waylaid the mailman the following day, getting his fingerprints and asking if he’d seen anything. The poor guy looked out of his element and a little scared being questioned. No doubt he’d thought having a route in such an upscale neighborhood would never put him in that position.
On Thursday night it was more of the same. They went over everything again. It was honestly giving him a headache. He didn’t understand what they hoped to gain by all the repetition. It was the same information no matter how many times they looked at it.
When he climbed into his vehicle on Friday night after practice, he took one look at Rebecca and knew what was coming. “No. Tonight is about relaxing. If you two want to put your heads together again and rehash every
thing, feel free. I’m not being part of it.”
Her eyes were serious. “We have to figure out who is behind this.”
“I understand that,” he said, reaching for her. She pulled her hands out of his reach, but he persisted until his right hand held tight to her left. “But you can watch a play over and over again. After you’ve dissected it from every angle, you’re not going to get any new information out of it, no matter how many times you watch.” She started to open her mouth again, but he cut her off and continued. “Look, I want to catch this person just as much as you do. More probably,” he said, gritting his teeth. The picture of them dancing flashed through his mind. “But I need to relax and forget about it for a while.”
Reaching over with his free hand, he cupped the back of her neck. He felt her muscles stiffen under his hands but ignored it. She’d been using this and Hansen as an excuse to keep distance between them the last two days. He was tired of it. He needed to feel her lips against his again. Without any hesitation on his part, he rose up out of his seat to clear the console separating them, pulled her head toward him, and kissed her.
She resisted at first, clinging to whatever it was that was holding her back. Releasing her hand, he slid his arm around her waist, bringing their upper bodies closer. “Stop thinking,” he murmured, his lips never completely relinquishing her mouth.
It took longer than what he would have liked, but she finally gave in. He’d watched her put a lock on her emotions since Wednesday morning. At first, he’d thought it was because of the pictures. He was beginning to think, however, the pictures had just given her a convenient excuse.
His tongue dipped into her mouth, exploring and caressing. She released a sigh and kissed him back. It felt so natural, so right. There was heat and passion in every touch. He never wanted to stop.
The hand he had secured around her waist inched underneath her sweater, feeling the soft skin beneath. His desire to take this much further than was appropriate in the middle of a parking lot pulsed through every cell of his body. It had been years since he’d had sex in the backseat of a car. Beds, tables, floors . . . they all allowed a lot more movement and leverage than a car. His body didn’t appear to care about the logistics. He wanted her. Immediately. In any way, he could get her.
His left hand left her neck and joined its counterpart around her waist. Lifting her effortlessly out of her seat and over the center console, he positioned her on his lap, her legs straddling him. “What—?”
He leaned the seat back as far as it would go to give them some more room. “Shh,” he whispered against her lips before placing both hands to surround her face and bringing her down with him on the reclined seat. “Don’t think. Feel.”
The next several minutes were a blur as they both became caught up in the moment. Her hands gripped his shoulders as the kiss became hotter and hotter. He released his hold on her face, once he was fairly sure she wasn’t going to pull away, and returned to exploring the soft skin of her lower back. This time, he surged upward until he found the back of her bra. The contraption was begging him to release it, to free her breasts so he could plunge into uncharted territory.
Just as he was about to make that happen, she pulled back. Her eyes were glazed over, her breathing ragged. He reached up and brushed the hair away from her face, resting his hand at the base of her neck. “Why did you stop?”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Why not, Rebecca? You want this. I know you do.”
“It’s wrong. I can’t . . . ”
She attempted to get off him, but he held her tight. “Why is it wrong? We’re both adults. There’s nothing that says we can’t.”
Her eyes closed, and for a second, he thought she was going to cry before she regained her composure. “There’s no future in this. Why pursue something that has no hope of ever lasting?”
He smiled. “Fun. Enjoyment. Mutual gratification. I can go on.”
She shook her head again and slid off him. This time he didn’t stop her even though he wanted to. He didn’t understand. She wanted it. Him. Why was she pushing him away?
Before he could ask, her cell phone rang. It was Tim wanting to know if they could come up to his office before they left. She didn’t even ask him before agreeing, so any further discussion on the subject would have to wait.
The meeting was brief. Tim only wanted to know how things were going. He wasn’t happy to find out they’d been shot at, but there wasn’t much he could do about it either way. Rebecca assured him they were working diligently to find out who was behind this, but unfortunately, they hadn’t come up with much.
When they arrived home just before six, something seemed to be in the air, and Gage was reluctant to bring up the subject of them again. Instead, he stayed close by, working with her to make a simple dinner. It seemed her cooking skills matched his. Neither of them would be creating any lavish meals anytime soon. They ate in near silence, and he offered to clean up after, leaving her to go upstairs to her room and do whatever it was she did in there.
Instead of taking him up on his offer and rushing up to her room to hide, she lingered. He was halfway through washing the dishes before he couldn’t take it anymore. “Something on your mind?”
She glanced up at him before walking to the other side of the kitchen island, placing it between them like a shield. By the way she was acting, he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to like whatever it was she had to say.
“I need to tell you something.”
“Go ahead,” he prompted when she didn’t continue.
Rebecca looked down at the granite countertop in front of her and reached out to grip the edge, her knuckles turning white. “The reason Donovan called us in wasn’t because of your letters. Well it was, but . . . ”
“But what?”
She raised her head and looked him dead in the eye, sending chills through his entire body. “Stadium security found explosives under your SUV. It was an amateur job, wouldn’t have caused a lot of damage, but it was enough.” She paused. “I thought after the shooting, you should know.”
Before he could gather his wits about him after the bombshell she’d just dropped, however, she walked silently up the stairs and disappeared. He was left alone in the kitchen, stunned.
They tiptoed around each other for most of the weekend. Rebecca didn’t say any more about the bomb that had been found under his vehicle, and neither did he. It was almost as if the entire conversation had never happened.
Sunday’s football game was brutal, as he knew it would be. Division play always had an extra intensity to it above other regular season games. He was pretty beat-up and was limping a little by the time he made it out of the stadium.
When she saw him, she rushed to his side and took his bag, even after he insisted he could handle it himself. She wouldn’t hear of it, though. They even had a little argument over who was going to drive. He had to admit, he loved seeing that side of her, all protective of him. It was completely opposite to the distance she exhibited toward him most of the time, or even the heated passion when she let her guard down. This was something new.
He spent the evening in his hot tub soaking his aching muscles. The team doctor had checked him out before he’d left. Nothing was broken. There were just a lot of bruises and overused muscles. He’d be fine. It helped that they had the next week off. Thursday was Thanksgiving, and for the first time in his professional career, the holiday fell on a bye week for them. He was going to be able to go home and celebrate the holiday with his family. Most Thanksgivings for him were spent heating up a preordered turkey dinner from the local market. This year it would be different. He’d have his family.
As he thought of his family, his thoughts drifted to Rebecca. Unless something major happened in the next few days, she’d be going with him. He had no idea how his family would react to her. Would she want them to know the truth—that she was there to protect him—or would she want to keep up the ruse?
He wasn’t sure how he felt about either scenario. If he presented his family with the truth, they would lose it. His mom would be frantic with worry. His brother Paul would grill Rebecca for all the details. He was sure Paul would insist on being involved, and that was the last thing he wanted. Thanksgiving would be ruined.
If he introduced her as his girlfriend, his parents were going to start hearing wedding bells. He didn’t date, not in the traditional sense, and if he was bringing a girlfriend home, it had to be serious. When Rebecca’s gig was up, she’d head back to Knoxville, leaving him and breaking his family’s heart. It was a no-win situation.
Stepping out of the hot tub, he reached for the towel he’d laid on a nearby bench then quickly dried off. It was getting late, the sun was already dipping down behind the mountains, and the wind was whipping up. It was too early for snow, but he wouldn’t be surprised if there was some frost on the ground by morning.
Wrapping the towel around his hips, he hurried into the warm house. His muscles weren’t aching as much as they had been earlier. All he wanted to do was shower and head over to the club to meet the guys. He could really use a beer.
He jogged up the stairs toward his room, and then he paused at the end of the hall. Rebecca’s door was ajar, which was unusual. She typically made sure it was locked up tight whenever she was inside. He walked closer and heard her talking. Figuring she was talking shop with Hansen again, he turned to go. Her next words, however, had him stopping in his tracks.
“I don’t know when I’m going to be home.” She paused, and when she spoke again, he could hear a hint of desperation in her tone. “No. Of course you can stay at my house. I . . . I doubt I’ll be there for Thanksgiving. I understand. I’m sorry. No. I’m . . . working. Nashville.”
He pushed the door aside and walked into her room. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, her phone pressed firmly against her ear. As if sensing him, she turned sharply, her gaze meeting his. That vulnerable look was back, and he didn’t hesitate to go to her.
