by Cindy Skaggs
“That’s not the way I remember it. I believe he said I could start therapy, not that I had to.”
“If you want to regain one hundred percent mobility, you start now.”
“Who says I want that?” She puffed a breath through tight lips. “I’ll get one of those nifty grabber thingies to reach the top shelf.”
“Those grabby thingies are made for retirees. You’ll thank me one day.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
The anguish on her face churned in his gut. He got no pleasure from the workout, but if she were one of his troops, he’d tell her to suck it up. “One more set and we’ll switch to weights.”
“Why does that not sound easier?” She counted to eight between gritted teeth. “Ahhh, that burns.”
Rose twisted to get the weights so he didn’t have to watch. He grabbed two cans of soup he was using as improvised dumbbells. “Swap these for the resistance band.”
She shrugged her shoulders before grabbing the cans. “I knew at some point you’d revert to type and ask me to cook for you.”
There was the sarcasm. The smile lifting his lips caught him off guard. Demonstrating the movement he wanted her to make, he answered her unspoken question. “The other weights are too much for starter exercises.”
“Doesn’t feel like starter exercises.” Her left arm went up like a spring while she tilted her body to try to use momentum to swing the right up. She finished the first set, her face red with the effort. “This is cruel and unusual punishment.”
He glanced at the clock on the far side of the room and gave her two minutes between sets. “Did you make progress in the lab?” He should feel guilty for avoiding her. His job right now was to work on the drug angle.
“Some. Tested the cup given to Lauren and me. Started work on the water bottles. It’s tedious work.”
“Figure out what they gave you?”
White teeth bit into her bottom lip. “GHB.”
“The date rape drug?”
“Yes.” A hiss whispered between her gritted teeth. “It’s a good thing we shared the tea, or they could have easily overdosed Lauren.”
“Didn’t you notice anything?” Shit, he didn’t want to sound like he was blaming. They’d all been taken surprise by Team Echo.
“The first tea tasted off, but it was an herbal tea blend, so we didn’t think anything of it. The second tea tasted fine. GHB is colorless and odorless for the most part, and can come in a liquid.” Tension drained from her shoulders as she talked about the science. “I don’t know if we were knocked out or we lost the memory of them moving us. I remember throwing up in the parking lot, and the next thing I remember is waking up in Lauren’s guest bedroom with two dead bodies.”
“Fuck.” Rose didn’t want to ask. None of them had considered what had been done to the women when they’d been in Echo’s hands. “Did they...”
“I don’t think so...” Her eyes squeezed closed. “I’ll have to ask Lauren first. Alone. I can’t spring it on her in front of everyone in case...but I don’t think so.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He brushed a wisp of black hair from her face. “How are you holding up?”
She leaned into his hand. “This happened days ago, feels like weeks considering all we’ve been through. I’m fine.”
Probably not fine. The female heart was a tricky beast, one he’d navigated with six sisters, but Debi had never had anyone to help her. “Do you want to go talk to, uh, Lauren or Janet or someone?”
“There weren’t any signs. I have to assume they used the drug to overpower us, not...” She rubbed a knuckle against the corner of her eye. “I’m fine.”
“That word doesn’t cut it with me. You know that.”
She shrugged away from his touch. “Let’s finish this.” The right arm shook as she lifted straight up and down with the can of soup in her hand. Muscles worked in her jaw and cheek as she ground out the movement, determined to finish therapy, maybe get the crap out of her head for a minute.
“Seven more. Lift as high as you can.”
She did three and paused with her hands hanging. “You’re an ass at training.”
“Thank you. Four more.”
Without a word, she pushed through the final set. When she finished, she let the cans hang down and stretch the muscles.
“Nice work, sweetheart.” He took the Campbell’s soup cans from her and set them on the mat. It had to hurt, no way around it, but she’d done every exercise he led her through without complaint. Her arm trembled, though, and he’d worked it hard. He patted the nearest weight bench. “Take a seat.”
She frowned like she wanted to argue, but sat instead.
“Too tired to fight, sweetheart?” When she lifted her nose instead of answering, Rose walked around the edge of her seat and rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Relax.” Using light strokes at first, he massaged the muscles at the top of her shoulders to ease the stress the training had caused. She needed to work the muscles, but she needed to recover as well. “Ice them when you get upstairs.” He worked his way to her bony shoulder without interruption, but when he hit the wounded side, she flinched.
“Watch it,” she warned.
“I’m not going near the stitches, but I want to work the muscles to avoid undue pain.” The last thing he wanted was hurt her. The skin closest to the wound was warm, probably from the exertion. “Feel better?”
A muscle twitched under his fingers, and after a moment, she closed her eyes and leaned back into his touch. “Too soon to tell. You should keep at it.”
He chuckled. She needed the comfort of touch. Maybe they both did. The thought of what Echo could have done, the power they’d had, twisted something deep in his psyche. He had six sisters. Statistically, that put at least one of his sisters at risk, which meant he’d had to work hard to keep them protected. Trained. Educated.
They’d suffered from their father’s abandonment, but damned if Rose was going to give some lowlife the chance to use daddy issues against his sisters. He made sure they knew their worth. Debi hadn’t had anyone to look out for her, so she’d ended up with some asshole who burned down her barn and stole her research. The father had failed to give her a solid sense of her value, which set her up for a bad cycle. Rose itched for five minutes alone with her old man to beat the ever loving shit out of him.
“Ouch.” She jerked away from him. “Too hard.”
“Sorry.” Thoughts of her old man had made his moves too rough. He closed off those thoughts—for now—and concentrated on working the tension from her tender flesh. When the muscles relaxed under his touch, he eased down the front of her arms away from the wound. At the elbow, he switched to the backside of the forearm to follow the single thick tendon that ran from elbow to wrist.
She gave a soft moan, more pleasure than pain. Both arms hung limp from her shoulders like they were weightless. No matter what she said or didn’t say, the massage helped ease the pain. And it was the least damn thing he could do, considering.
The bones in her wrist were fragile, dainty in a way he’d never noticed before, and her skin was intoxicating enough to tempt a reformed alcoholic. He switched to the other arm, circling his thumb up the long muscle. At her bicep, her arm twitched like he hit a nerve, but he kept on until she jerked away. Her eyes popped open.
The underside of her bicep was ticklish. The temptation was too great. “Problem?”
“Nope.” She twisted her lips into a frown.
Rose rubbed the knot on the front of her arm before softening his touch at the underside of her arm, smoothing feather light touches to her tickle spot.
She jumped this time, and his fingers brushed her chest before she slid out from under his arms and stood. When he persisted, tickling along the underside of her arm, a laugh bubbled up.
“Ticklish?”
She twisted to frown at him. “Did you do that on purpose?”
Of course he had. She needed the laughter and he’d n
eeded to hear it. “Feel better now?”
She reached as if to cross her arms over her chest, and then winced when it pulled her injury.
“Here, let’s get you strapped back in.” He snagged the sling and eased it around the outer edge of her elbow. And it was too damned close to her chest. Her breath hitched as he moved, drawing his eye right where he shouldn’t want it, on either side of the Army emblem.
“That’s probably good enough.” Debi turned so he could loop the sling around her neck. She lifted her hair out of her way with her good hand, exposing her neck. For the first time, he noticed the long slender line, as delicate as her wrist. He rubbed a knuckle down her spine from her nape to the edge of the shirt. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t step away.
The silk of her skin drew his touch. He bent low to drop a kiss to the tender skin under her hairline. His nose nuzzled her neck, drowning in her scent. The breath strangled in his lungs. The chemistry between them had been instant, from the moment he tucked her curvy body into his and dove for cover when Echo had tried to infiltrate her ranch house. He’d wanted his hands on her, but he wasn’t in the position to act on those desires. They were at war, and she was injured. His hand stilled. He stepped back, physically and mentally.
A groan loaded with frustration climbed her throat. “Rose, the thing with Echo that could have happened, but didn’t,” she emphasized, “doesn’t change a thing. The attraction is mutual.”
Over her shoulder, he could see her chest rise and fall with each shallow breath, and the sight left him speechless.
“I’m not sorry about what just happened,” she continued. “I’m not sorry about the kiss in the lab. We’re going to have to deal with it. I’m betting on soon.” Without looking back, she made her exit to his silence. The clock ticked off the seconds, and then minutes, since her departure, and still Rose didn’t move. The chemistry was like the weather outside. Undeniable. Unchangeable. He wouldn’t even if he could, because it was the first thing in months that made him feel alive. He welcomed it like a lost limb at the same time as he caged it.
No one had watched out for Debi, so he’d do what others had failed to do. He’d protect her, from himself most of all.
Debi walked in on the most laughter she’d heard since a Saturday night at the bar. Camy’s howls turned to a snort, which sent her into another spasm of giggles. The counter held her as she leaned over and attempted to stifle a serious case of the giggles.
Stills had his hands in a sink of suds, but when he saw Debi, he pulled both hands up in a sign of surrender. Suds dripped down his corded arms. “I didn’t touch her.”
“It’s not me you have to worry about.”
The words sent Camy into another raucous round until she finally dropped onto the floor. “Oh my God, you have to tell her. Dean tells the best stories.” She swiped moisture from her eyes. “About River.”
The mind boggled. Why Rose had a problem with his first name was still a mystery.
Stills shook his head. “No way in hell am I repeating that story.” He rinsed off a large pot and set it to dry on the counter. “Dinner’s in five minutes. Debi, do you mind letting everyone know?”
“I don’t mind if you tell me where everyone is.”
“Oh, they all trooped up to their rooms about a half hour ago.”
“That’s great. Where are their rooms?”
Stills dried his hands on a nearby towel. “That’s right.” His grin grew. “You’re down here. With River Rose.”
“Not with him, with him. In the same hall.” Oh, yeah, now that she heard his name in Still’s teasing voice, she totally got why Rose didn’t want his buddies knowing. “I’ll figure it out.” Debi didn’t have a clue where the staircase was hiding, but didn’t want to stick around and explain her relationship with Rose, because obviously there was no relationship, and after she spooked him earlier today...
“I’ll come with you,” Camy said. She reached a hand out. “Help me up.”
Debi reached out with her free arm to give Camy a boost, and then followed her down a narrow hall to a set of stairs. Rose’s little sister had the same blonde hair, cut into a pixie style that showed off high cheekbones and a delicate nose. “Those are some pretty fabulous genes you Rose kids share.”
“How’s that?”
“You know, blonde hair, blue eyes.” Gorgeous.
“Not so great when you grow up in a small town. Every year, my new teacher said the same thing on the first day of class. Look at you. Spitting image of your sisters. You’ve gotta be a Rose girl.”
Debi climbed, but damn the narrow set of stairs were long. “Doesn’t seem like such a bad legacy.”
“That’s because you haven’t met my sisters. Not a rule breaker in the bunch.”
“I’d bet good money that you’re a troublemaker.”
Camy turned, her face in a radiant smile. “Thanks. Nicest thing you could say.” She pounded on several doors and kept walking. “Dinner,” she hollered. She pounded on a few more before they came out at the top of a staircase leading down to the main room. “Are you sleeping with my brother?”
Holy cow, the girl moved fast. Debi stepped to the left side of the stairs and held the rail on the way down. “Um, no.”
“Why not?”
Wow. “Um...” Debi stumbled her way down the rest of the stairs and came to a rest at the bottom. It usually took more than a vivacious twenty-something to make her stutter. Finally, she pointed to her sling. “I got shot. That’s why.”
“Oh, well, good reason. Hold up. Let me show you something.” She slipped an arm around Debi’s and pulled her next to the fireplace that stood in the center of the room. “We’re about to get a dinner show.”
Craft was the first to hit the stairs, his normally light brown hair wet and tousled, looking like a runway model on steroids. The breadth of his chest nearly matched Rose, who had him beat in height and width. He jogged down the stairs before he caught a glimpse. “You two coming?”
“In a minute.” Camy smiled and waved like a pageant contestant. “Girl talk.”
He skipped out like he’d rather clean toilets than sit around and listen to girl talk. “Get’s them every time,” Camy said. “So, are you planning to make a move on my brother?”
Debi’s head spun. Maybe she’d entered an alternate universe where sweet-natured Camy was about to go all Rambo on her ass. “Would that bother you?”
“Not at all. Hold on.” She touched a hand to Debi’s shoulder. “Here comes contestant number two.”
Fowler took the stairs two at a time, showing his familiarity with his surroundings and his outstanding physical conditioning. A dinner show indeed. The way his arms moved brought attention to his biceps. Drool worthy. He took one look at Debi and Camy and swiped a nervous hand over the tips of his spiked hair. He took the quickest path to the kitchen.
“Talk about gifted genes.” Camy fanned her face. “Where in the name of God’s earth did the Army find these men? Because men built like this do not exist in the real world.”
“I see your point.” Debi had an idea about that, but she’d wait until they were all together. “Was Rose always so... built?”
“Mostly.” Camy frowned as if trying to recall. “I mean, he was always so much older, he seemed like a giant. Sure, his suit coat keeps getting wider, but he’s still the same. I mean, he worked on the farm until he joined the Army, so his body had to keep up with the chores.”
That was one way to think of it, but she’d love to see proof. “You don’t happen to have any older pictures of him, would you?”
“Like blackmail pictures.” The hint of sibling rivalry showed on her delicate features. “I’ll check my phone... Oh, crap, Fowler confiscated it, but I’ll see what I can dig up. Wait, here comes contestant number three.”
Ryder preceded Lauren down the stairs, holding her hand in his bandaged one. Even without his leather jacket, he looked like a badass in a skin-tight black t-shirt and jeans. The thick b
iker boots made an intimidating clunk on the stairs.
“Oh, well, I know he’s married and all, but it can’t hurt to look. Do you think the Army did some genetic manipulation or something?”
“Definitely not genetic manipulation.” The science wasn’t there yet. At least she didn’t think so.
“But something, right?”
Ryder pulled Lauren into him at the bottom of the stairs. Lauren tilted her head and whispered something they couldn’t hear. Ryder responded by dropping a gentle kiss to her lips.
“God, isn’t that the sexiest thing?” Camy whispered.
Debi held her words until Ryder and Lauren disappeared into the kitchen. “How did you figure out about the runway show?”
“Oh, you mean the view from the fireplace? Caught it by accident this morning. Was having a little bit of a pity party with my first cup of coffee and they started down the stairs like contestants from The Bachelorette, you know, that reality show?”
First cup of coffee? “How much coffee have you had?”
“I don’t count. Some things in life should remain a mystery.”
Now that the show was over, Debi stepped around the fireplace. “Maybe you should cut back?”
“On coffee? Not a chance. Before we go eat, answer my question. Are you going to make a move?”
As if her thoughts had conjured him, Rose stepped through the door and peered around the fireplace. “Let’s eat, girls.” He glanced between the two as if trying to decipher the situation. “Now.”
And like that, he was gone. “Is he always so...” There were no words for how he messed with her head.
“Bossy, short-tempered, and protective.” Camy nodded her head solemnly. “Fair warning.”
Debi glanced longingly at the kitchen. The last ten minutes had been a Camy-sized tornado. “Are you trying to warn me off?”
“Not at all. I figure if he finds himself a woman, he’ll have less time to harass me. I swear to God, all I’m asking for is one day without him hounding me.”
