by Becky Flade
“Sure you did.” Aidan accused before he spun to face Maggie and railed, “I told you she couldn’t be trusted! I told you she was dangerous.”
“Aidan, I’m warning you,” Carter started, but Aidan cut him off.
Spinning back around to face him, Aidan ignored the warning. “I told you, too. Warned both of you, but you didn’t listen. Welcomed her like she was a member of the family instead.” Aidan pointed a finger at him. “You think she happened to break down in Trappers’ Cove? Think all this was a coincidence? The violence, the arson? She’s playing you; she’s playing all of us.
“I bet you’re as twisted as he was,” Aidan sneered at Henley.
She fled the room, her sobs echoing as she ran, the front door slamming into the exterior wall as she tore out of the house. Aidan took two steps toward following her when Carter’s fist connected with his jaw. He felt the impact vibrate up his arm. And from the corner of his eye, he witnessed Aidan’s stumbling fall to one knee. Carter ran after Henley. He reached the front door as the engine to his Jeep sprang to life.
“Henley!” he screamed as he bolted down the steps. He ran over the drive, his feet slipping on the crushed shells. The muscle under his scar throbbed. He reached the passenger-side door and tried the handle. It was locked. He beat on the window. “Henley, baby, open the door. Open the door!”
She didn’t look at him as she put the gear in drive. But the distraught look on her face, the sobs he could see shaking her body as tears ran unchecked down her cheeks, tore him apart.
“Open the door. Please.”
She shook her head, once, the only sign she’d heard him. Carter jumped back as she floored the accelerator and tore out of the drive. He chased her as far as the road. Then he stood, tears choking him, his wound screaming, as he watched his woman drive away.
Chapter Nineteen
He limped up the drive, his damaged leg carrying him as quickly as it could. He hated that he needed to beg a ride or borrow a car from Maggie, especially now, but he had to get to Henley. He had seen the look on her face. He knew what it meant. She’d been running from the ghost of Jacob Ashlock for twenty years. It was all she knew, and she’d do it again if he didn’t stop her.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice Tala on the steps until he was nearly on top of her. She was crying, flanked by both dogs. Carter sighed internally. He couldn’t turn his back on the little girl. Wait for me, Henley. He sat and wrapped his arm around her tiny shoulders. “Don’t cry, Turnip.” She sniffled and blew her nose on his shirt.
“Sorry.” She hiccupped, and he bumped her under the chin.
“No need to apologize. It’s my privilege to lend a shoulder to a pretty girl.”
“I’ve never seen my daddy that mad. He yelled at Henley and you and Mommy. It was scary.”
“Yeah, I know it was. But I don’t hear any yelling now. Scary stuff is over, I think.” She nodded. “Everything will be okay. You’ll see.”
“I know it will.” She relayed confidence despite the stuffy nose and hiccups. “But I didn’t like what happened. The dogs didn’t either. Dublin wanted to bite Daddy. And Dixon was scared; he piddled on the carpet. Mommy’s going to be mad at him.”
“Well, Dublin’s a smart dog.” He chuckled. “And you’ve got a smart mommy, too. I bet she blames your dad for the puddle and not Dixon.”
“Henley didn’t mean to hurt anyone, Carter. Don’t be mad at her, okay?”
“I’m not mad at her. I am worried about her, though. I’m going to go check on her ’cause she’s all alone.” The words made his heart ache. He hadn’t made the promise to Henley, not yet; he’d been afraid he’d scare her away. But he had promised himself she’d never be alone again. Now he worried it was too late. Tala stood up and kissed his cheek. He sensed a presence at the door behind them and heard the screen open. He looked up to see Maggie holding out a set of keys.
“Go get her.” He nodded and, with Dublin beside him, hurried to Maggie’s car. He was only a few minutes behind Henley as he pulled out of the drive and sped down the road. But she was nowhere in sight.
She’s going to run. She’s going to run. The thought repeated in Carter’s mind like a tolling death knell. He listened to her phone ring, heard her voicemail pick up, and then smacked the steering wheel. Panic rose within him as he disconnected and redialed. He scanned the road around him as he approached the center of town, hoping, despite the knowledge that it was a futile gesture, that she had pulled over.
He turned into the narrow stretch of parking lot that ran along the building housing his office and her apartment—and there was his Jeep, parked in the spot reserved for the tenant’s use. He slammed the SUV into park behind it.
Carter took a few deep, calming breaths as he crossed the lot. “All right bud, let’s go get our woman. She isn’t getting away from us without a fight,” he said to Dublin. The dog barked in what Carter took as a gesture of solidarity. He opened the unlocked outer door and frowned. He fought the urge to race up the stairs, the memory of the last time he’d been here and found her unconscious and bleeding too clear in his mind’s eye. When he got to the landing, the door was ajar. He could hear her weeping. The sound wrenched him. He pushed the door wide. The living room was a mess. Books and clothes lay half in and half out of boxes.
“Doc?”
“Go away, Carter. Just go.” Her voice wavered and broke on the final syllable. He followed the trail of debris through the apartment. He spotted his car keys on the kitchen island and quietly pocketed them. Dublin passed him in the hall. When Carter turned into the bedroom doorway, she was on her knees, hugging his dog, crying into his nape.
“Henley.”
She raised her face. It was ravaged by tears. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, but he knew she’d rebuke him. He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to her and leaned against the jamb. “What are you doing?”
“I have to go. I . . . I need to leave. Shouldn’t have stayed.” She brushed the dog’s ruffled coat as she stood. “Michelle was right.”
“Your sister?” He kept his tone mild. He’d dealt with trauma victims when he was on the Philadelphia police force. If he was right, Henley was on the verge of hysteria. He needed her calm to convince her to stay.
“I destroy everything and everyone around me.”
“That’s bullshit.” The casual, cheerful declaration made her blink at him like an owl. “You haven’t destroyed anything.”
“Didn’t you hear Aidan? I’m responsible for that woman’s death. I didn’t know about Aidan’s child. I bear that burden, too. He must hate me. Maggie, too.” She twisted her fingers. “And you will.”
“Would I be here if I hated you, Doc? Am I angry? By the way, you’re not leaving. Your car is at my place, and I blocked the Jeep in with Maggie’s SUV. I’ve got both sets of keys.” He patted his front pocket. “That’s where they are now, and that’s where they’ll stay. They’re not going anywhere. Just. Like. You.”
He advanced on her, and to her credit, she didn’t flinch or back away. His grip on his temper and on his fear slipped. He couldn’t touch her. All he wanted was to touch her. He knew if he could, she’d stay. But he wouldn’t use her ability to manipulate her. He wouldn’t use Jacob Ashlock’s legacy to manipulate her. He wished the man was alive so Carter could punish him for all the people he’d damaged.
But what he needed was for Henley to want to stay. With him.
“I have to go before anyone else gets hurt,” she pleaded.
“It’ll hurt me if you go. Please, Henley. Don’t leave.”
Her eyes fell. He hadn’t known he’d held his hands out to her, but when he followed her gaze, he found they were stretched out as if reaching for her. He shook with the effort not to pull her close.
“You hurt yourself.” She ran past him. When he chased her, he found her in the bathroom soaking a washcloth. She wrapped the cold, wet cloth around swollen, bloody knuckles he hadn’t been awar
e were damaged.
“Aidan has a hard jaw,” he offered in explanation.
“You hit him?” she asked in awe.
“For you? I’d fight the devil if I had to, Doc.” Her head bent, she raised his bruised hand to her mouth and kissed each knuckle. He wrapped his good hand in her hair and, with a gentle pull on the tresses, gave in to his need.
• • •
She held her breath. And in that heady second Henley asked herself what would hurt her most—loving Carter or leaving him? She knew the answer. Suddenly, the fear slipped away, and she was ready to fight for what was important to her. She stepped into his arms and laid her lips on his. His emotions swirled into her. Everything he felt was tinted by desperation. And fear. She’d made a strong man weak. The notion filled her with lustful pride.
His lips opened under hers, and his tongue prodded at the crease formed by her mouth. She surrendered and opened herself to his kiss. Unlike any other they’d shared, this one had an edge. It felt savage and wonderful. She rubbed her tingling body against his and moaned. He pulled back and stared into her eyes. She didn’t know what he saw there, but he growled and crushed his mouth to hers.
They tumbled into the hallway, and Carter smacked his shoulder against the doorframe that led into her bedroom. She heard Dublin scurry away as they grappled their way through the room. He pulled at her clothes. She tugged at his. His arms banded around her, his hands on her behind as he feasted on her mouth. Her hands streaked under his shirt. Her short nails bit into the muscles of his back, a back she’d fantasized about for months. He broke their kiss long enough to remove his shirt. When his arms extended over his head, Henley took advantage of the field presented to her. She traced his muscles with the pads of her fingers, funneling them through his chest hair. The caress was similar to the one she’d given in his mother’s kitchen, but in this moment there was no hesitancy, only wonder. She went back over the same ground, lightly scoring the flesh with her nails. His nipples pebbled under the crisp hair that swirled there. He lowered his arms. His eyes seemed to burn.
“My turn.” He pulled off her shirt and skimmed a finger over the edge of her bra. Goosebumps sprang along the swell of her breasts. His other hand caressed her waist and traced the edge of her hip.
“Son of a bitch. I’ll kill him.”
His anger pierced the haze of passion that fuddled her mind. “What?”
“He hurt you.”
She bent her head and saw the imprint of Aidan’s fingers on her shoulder. A quick glance confirmed matching bruises on the left. She shrugged and brushed her lips over Carter’s heart.
“It’s okay.”
“No. No, it’s not. But I’ll deal with it another time.” He slipped his fingertips inside the waistband of her shorts and rubbed the skin there. She put her hands over his and pushed. Her shorts slid over her hips and fell to pool around her feet. Her panties and bra were practical. She’d in no way consider them lingerie, yet he stared at her as though they were the sexiest undies he’d ever seen. She felt confident and provocative. Sensual. Henley reached for the button on his jeans. He pulled his body away from her.
“Not yet. Please. If you touch me south of my belly button, this whole thing will be over before we get started.”
She felt her mouth curve. She stepped forward, grabbed his waistband in one hand, his neck in the other and, going up on tiptoes, ran her tongue across his lower lip. She rubbed the length of her body against him, felt his erection push against her, and moaned.
“Christ, Doc.” He groaned the words and lifted her onto his chest. She wrapped her arms around his head. He buried his face between her breasts and hugged her tightly. “Take your bra off for me.”
Feet dangling, she reached back and worked the clasp with a practiced twist of her fingers. With his breath on her skin, she pulled off one strap and then the other, letting the undergarment fall to the floor. She funneled her fingers through his hair and over his neck and kneaded his shoulders while he licked and nibbled at her flesh.
Carter laid her back on the bed and then sat next to her with one hand splayed over her quivering belly. She watched him take off his shoes and socks. He stood beside the bed, dug a condom out of his back pocket, and placed it on the nightstand, his eyes locked to hers. She knew he was offering her an out if she wanted one. She didn’t.
She rolled onto her knees and undid his jeans. She tugged the material down his legs and dropped them. Henley scooted back on the mattress as he climbed onto the bed. They were on their sides, face to face, kissing, touching. She wanted more. She needed it.
“Carter, I need you. Please make love with me.”
He lifted her hips and pulled off her panties. “Beautiful.” He sighed. Henley’s breath caught in her throat when he wiggled out of his boxers. He opened the foil wrapper and looked into her eyes as he rolled on the rubber. “I wish we could do without this. But the only thing I want more than to feel you take all of me with nothing between us is to protect you.”
She braced his body between her thighs. And she felt the power that roiled through him mingle with her desire. It was heady. Her back arched off the bed in anticipation. When they were finally one, she shattered. Then he made her whole again.
• • •
“We should’ve done that months ago.” Henley ran her hand over his back and felt his laughter. She smiled at the back of his head.
“Doc, I’ve been wanting to get you into bed since I first saw you.” He turned his face toward her on the pillow they shared. His body was slung over hers, and she was wrapped in a blanket of mutual contentment. He kissed the tip of her nose. “And out of bed. In the shower. Mmm, the kitchen.”
“I had no idea you were such a lech.”
“It’s my secret shame.” His palm coasted over her curves.
“Since we’re telling secrets: I’ve got a thing for your back.”
“My back?”
“Yeah. It’s sexy.”
“Not, you know, my front?”
“I like your front. But your back does something for me.”
“I think my feelings are hurt.” She could tell they weren’t.
“You’ve got amazing musculature. Lean, strong muscles. You’re in shape, but you’re not bulky. It’s hot.” She traced the line of his bicep. “Good arms, too. Where do you exercise? I haven’t seen a gym in town.”
“I run a few mornings a week.”
“That must be hard in the winter.”
“Mmm-hmm. Try impossible. We get a lot of snow, but on the upside, all the shoveling makes extra exercise unnecessary.”
“So all this”—she skimmed a hand from his shoulder to hip—“is from jogging and shoveling. Lucky me.”
“And excellent genes. Can I ask you a question?” He rolled onto his side and pulled her onto hers. Their legs entwined, they faced each other, noses nearly touching, breathing in tandem with Henley’s nipples brushing his chest when they inhaled. She nodded.
“Did your ability get in the way at all?”
“Oh.” Surprised, she cupped his jaw and gave him a solid kiss. That he’d think of that was one of the many things about him that amazed her. “No, it didn’t. In fact, I think it may have enhanced the experience.”
“Is that right?” The hand he had rested on her hip flexed and pulled her center against his. “What did it feel like to you when I . . . ”
“Climaxed?” she finished. His eyes sparkled, and if she weren’t privy to his emotions, she still would’ve known he was aroused. “Like a burst of pure, blinding joy.”
“That sounds about right.” He kissed her, pulled back, and caught her with the intensity that blazed from his azure eyes. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You haven’t done anything shameful. You aren’t to blame for anyone’s actions but your own. Your sister is wrong.” He spoke as though attempting to brand her with his words. “Ashlock was sick when he hurt you. As much as I hate to s
ay it, he wasn’t to blame for that. But when he killed Aidan’s pregnant girlfriend, he knew he was sick, and he chose not to take the medicine that would help him. He is to blame for that. It was tragic, the whole damn thing is sad as hell, but it’s not your responsibility; it never was. I won’t have anyone say different. Including you. Understand?”
“I understand.” She understood that he was also referring to the blame he’d shouldered when Justin died. Why, after all these years, couldn’t she see her own truth as easily as she’d understood his? She could acknowledge that she’d spent her life paying a penance that belonged to another. Carter shared with her the healing perspective she’d helped him find. Hope swelled for a future she’d never considered.
“Good. Now on to more important things.”
“Like what?”
“This.” He rolled onto his back, pulling her up and over him.
Chapter Twenty
“What do you have planned for your last day off from work?” he asked, buckling his holster to his belt. Henley sat at the kitchen table in one of his tees. She was tall, so despite the shirt’s size, her bottom was barely covered. Her breasts filled out the material in a tantalizing manner. Her hair was pulled into a messy knot. She looked warm and inviting. Despite the fact that they had tumbled once in bed and again on the table where she currently sat, he wanted to pull her back into his arms. She grinned at him like she knew his thoughts. He’d taken a step forward when Dublin’s impatient bark at the door interrupted his plan. She laughed as he berated the dog under his breath.
“Should’ve named him C-Block,” Carter said. “That’s a decent name for a sheriff’s pet and apropos, considering.”
“Let him in and quit your grousing. You’ve got to protect and serve the fair population of Trappers’ Cove.”
He’d made arrangements for Doug to cover his shifts, acting as dispatch in exchange, and Carter and Henley had spent the entirety of the weekend holed up at his place. He didn’t want it to end. Part of him still feared she’d pack up and leave when he wasn’t looking.
