by Kaylea Cross
Nina lapsed into silence after that. Tate focused on the feel of her fingers wrapped around his, grateful for her kind, gentle presence. They passed the rest of the drive without speaking, only the country music on the radio playing softly in the background. Tate liked that they didn’t have to talk. That Nina didn’t feel obligated to fill the silence.
“Want to come in while I get Rylee settled?” he asked quietly as they took the turn off the main highway to Rifle Creek. “I’ll drop you at home after.”
“Sure, that’s fine.”
Mason’s Jeep was gone when Tate pulled into the driveway a few minutes later, his buddy out somewhere. Rylee was still fast asleep in the back, barely stirred when Tate tried to wake her. He bundled her up in his arms and carried her inside, straight down the upstairs hallway past his door to her room at the end. He’d left it exactly as it had been the day he’d moved her out.
She curled onto her side with a sigh when he laid her on the double bed. Tate pulled the covers over her and stood there a moment, staring down at her in the dimness.
A fierce wave of protectiveness surged through him. Some fucking bastard had drugged her tonight. In the hopes of raping her or worse, who knew.
Stop. She’s safe now. Let that shit go.
He shut the door without a sound and walked back down the hall to find Nina. She was in the kitchen, sitting on a stool at the counter, her long dark hair spilling over one slender shoulder. It shone in the overhead kitchen lights, so silky and shiny his fingers itched to slide through it. “She still asleep?” she asked.
“Yeah, never opened her eyes. She’ll be back to normal in the morning.”
Nina studied him, an unreadable expression in her gaze. “And you? Will you be fine in the morning too?”
He paused next to her, close enough to breathe in her sweet scent and see the flecks of caramel in her warm brown eyes. She’d been there for him and Rylee tonight. That meant a lot to him, enough that he wanted to be honest with her now. “I want to find the asshole who did this to her and rip him apart.”
She nodded and slid off the stool to wind her arms around his waist, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “That’s what I thought.”
Tate heaved a sigh and returned the embrace, soaking up her warmth and concern. It didn’t bode well that the cops hadn’t found Samantha yet. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened to her, but he couldn’t stop himself. He’d seen too much on the job to assume everything would be fine. “Sorry our date ended like this.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m just glad Rylee’s okay.”
“Me too.” He kissed the top of her head, nuzzling her hair. “Want something to drink? I think Avery left a bottle of wine last time she was over.”
Nina shook her head. “No. Just you.”
His heart squeezed. She made him want to wrap her up in his arms and never let go. And it shook him.
He led her out to the back deck and tucked her into his lap on the porch swing. Cuddling her close, he ran his fingers through the cool silk of her hair as he pushed the swing back with his foot. The quiet creak of the chains anchoring the swing to the ceiling blended with the chirp of the crickets singing in the grass.
“It’s so peaceful and quiet out here,” she whispered.
He loved the feel of her, all warm and cuddly against him. Trusting and relaxed.
He was in big damn trouble where she was concerned. He’d made up his mind not to risk his heart again, but she was already winding around it. “Thanks for being there tonight.” He appreciated the way Nina had handled things. She had a big heart and a sense of empathy he hadn’t come across too often.
Everything tonight had changed his mind about her. From dinner in the cafeteria and the planetarium show to the situation with Rylee. Nina wasn’t naïve, she was a dreamer.
He admired that, even as it made him crazy protective of her. Dreamers were vulnerable and he didn’t want anyone or anything to hurt her. Ever.
She tipped her head back on his shoulder to peer up at the sky beyond the porch roof. “Look at all the stars out here. Crazy how many are visible without light pollution obscuring them.”
Tate studied them with her. There were a lot of them up there, and he’d never thought to care or appreciate it before. For him they were a tool, nothing more. “I’ve only ever used them for navigation. Maybe you can expand my horizons a little.”
Her soft laugh rippled through him, touching places he’d thought he’d walled off a long time ago. “Never say that to an astronomy freak unless you’re prepared for the consequences.”
“What kind of consequences?”
She sat up and turned toward him more, her pretty face bathed in moon and starlight. “Like a fanatical lecture about the galaxy or the meteor shower happening Sunday night.”
“I can take it. Go ahead.” Tate gazed down at her, stroking his fingers through her hair. Unexpected and incredible as it was, she made him believe in hope again. “Show me the stars, Nina,” he murmured.
Her sexy lips curved into a smile as she leaned up to meet him halfway. Tate took her head in his hands as they kissed, learning the shape and feel of her, exploring. Varying pressure, tender glides until the hunger took hold. He was hard and aching for her already, just from this gentle kiss.
Needing closer, he lowered one arm to lock around her hips, lifting her until he settled her astride his lap, facing him. He barely smothered a groan as her core settled against his erection. She shifted her knees on the thick cushion and threaded her hands into his hair to hold him close while he delved his tongue into her mouth to taste her.
Nina moaned low in her throat and met the caress with her own, shifting her weight until her core pressed tight to the ridge of his erection. Tate made a low sound of approval and pleasure and palmed her ass to pull her closer, his fingers sinking in, squeezing her softness.
The sound of a vehicle pulling into his driveway alerted him that they were no longer alone. Mason would be inside within a minute. Hello, mood killer.
Cursing his buddy’s timing, Tate took one last taste, paused to suck on her plump lower lip, then gently released her mouth and eased back to see her face. Nina’s breathing was uneven, her eyes heavy-lidded with need, that sultry mouth swollen.
He couldn’t look away, felt himself getting lost in those gorgeous eyes. Damn. She had such passion and a sense of wonder for life. He hadn’t realized that’s exactly what he’d been lacking until she’d acted like a mirror held up in front of him.
“Mason’s timing sucks,” she whispered.
Tate laughed softly. “What else is new.” He cupped her face in his hands, his heart thudding against his ribs. This woman held the power to turn him inside out with a single smile. He wanted to do something romantic and meaningful for her. “Before I take you home, what are you doing tomorrow night?”
Amusement and anticipation gleamed in her eyes. “That depends. You got something in mind?”
“Yeah.” The kitchen light came on behind them, alerting him to Mason’s impending arrival, but he kissed her one more time anyway, because he couldn’t help himself. He was already addicted, God help him. “Matter of fact, I do.”
Chapter Ten
Vince crept through the garage door into the mudroom just before midnight. The house was dark and still, his wife and daughters all fast asleep upstairs.
He’d thought coming home would help, but the sudden quiet made the agitation inside him ten times worse.
He paced the length of the kitchen and back, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. The scrapes on his face and neck stung like hell. He had to lie low until they healed.
Tonight was supposed to have been the best hunt yet. His epic finale in Missoula, with a big payoff at the end for all the risk involved.
Instead, the thrill had turned into a nightmare.
Everything had gone wrong, almost right from the start. He’d barely made it out of the club with the one girl undetected. Then things had gon
e from bad to worse.
The girl had come to unexpectedly. She’d fought him. Terrified someone would hear or see them, he’d quickly shut her up.
He’d crossed a line. Panicked. Bolted without sticking around to find out what happened, or take steps to mitigate any DNA traces he’d left behind.
The entire drive home he’d half-expected the cops to come after him. She’d fucking seen him. Up close.
“Oh, shit,” he breathed, stopping to lean against the kitchen counter. His heartbeat drummed in his head, nausea swirling in the pit of his stomach. What had he done?
She might be able to ID him. And maybe even her friend, too. Vince wasn’t certain, but he’d thought the other brunette had seen him as he approached them at the bar while they’d been talking to those college guys. He’d waited for one girl to leave and made sure the other was distracted before dosing their drinks. No one had noticed it. But it hadn’t mattered.
Now what?
He’d been careful to avoid the security cameras inside the club, having scoped them out a few nights ago, after he’d overheard the brunettes talking about going there tonight. Except the camera above the bar would have caught him. He’d worn a ball cap and kept his head down so it wouldn’t pick up his face, but…
“Vince?”
He almost jumped out of his skin when his wife stepped into the kitchen, lit up by faint moonlight coming through the sliders leading to the back patio. “Hey,” he said, quickly turning to hide the marks on his face from her.
“What are you doing down here in the dark? Is everything okay?”
No. Not by a long shot. “Yeah, just a tough call at work tonight.”
“Oh. Is that why you’re home so late?” There was more than a little suspicion in her tone, and her expression was guarded. She still suspected he might be cheating on her. She wasn’t wrong.
He forced an easy smile even though his heart was racing and his insides were in knots. “Yeah. Everything’s okay now, though.”
She nodded once. “All right. You coming up to bed?”
The thought of crawling into bed beside her right now made him physically ill. Lying next to his wife after what he’d done? Even he couldn’t stomach it. “Nah, I’m gonna shower, then probably stay up for a while.” He often did that after an eventful shift, watching a movie or whatever. “You go on back to bed.”
She lowered her gaze, her shoulders slumping, and it was just more proof that he’d become a monster. “See you in the morning. Don’t forget Tammy’s recital is at eight.”
“I won’t.”
He waited until her footsteps retreated up the stairs and down the hallway above him. Dragging his hands over his face, he headed for the guest bathroom.
His mind wouldn’t stop spinning. There were no answers or solutions, only questions, each one worse than the last.
Hands braced on the shower wall, he closed his eyes as the hot water poured over him for a few minutes before scrubbing every part of him down.
But no amount of soap and hot water could make him clean.
Everything was out of his control now. They would catch him, and it would be both a nightmare and a relief. He dreaded his wife’s and daughters’ reaction, the fallout afterward. But he couldn’t see any way to hide it now.
His life was on a collision course with an immovable object. And that meant he had to be smarter than ever to avert disaster.
****
Mason jackknifed up in bed as gunshots echoed in his head, his heart pounding in the darkness.
It took him a second to realize he was in the bedroom in Tate’s basement suite. Not back overseas getting his ass shot at. Shit, he must have been dreaming.
Ric was over by the door, whining. And not a let-me-out-I-have-to-pee whine. A high-pitched, frightened one.
Normally when Mason had a nightmare Ric crawled up next to or even on top of him, instinctively recognizing something was wrong and trying to soothe him.
“It’s okay,” Mason said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Hey, buddy, come—” He broke off, his head jerking up when the distinct sound of a rifle shot came from somewhere outside. “What the hell?” Yanking on his jeans, he lunged for the door and charged into the rest of the suite.
Tate had told him what happened earlier. Someone had targeted Rylee at a club. Had they come back here with a weapon?
Fuck that.
Ric was right beside him as he pushed through the door onto the stairs connecting him with the upper floor—just as another shot rang out from the backyard. His hands itched for a weapon. Tate had a gun safe in his den upstairs.
“Tate,” he snapped as he neared his buddy’s room. The door was shut. “What—”
“It’s just Curt next door,” came the muffled reply. “Go back to bed.”
The hell he would. He flung the door open. Tate was sprawled out on his stomach, stark naked, and barely cracked an eye open at the sudden intrusion.
“Are you sure it’s your neighbor?” Mason demanded, his heart still thudding erratically against his ribs.
“Yes. Good night, Mase,” Tate muttered, sounding irritated. Well, more irritated. He hadn’t been too happy when Mason had shown up while Nina was here earlier, either.
“Sorry, we should have warned you,” a soft voice said from behind Mason.
He had never seen Tate move so fast. Hearing his niece’s voice, Tate bolted upright and scrambled to cover himself just as Rylee stopped next to Mason in the doorway.
“Stay there, I’m not decent,” Tate blurted in horror, blankets jerked up to his chin.
“It’s not like I’m gonna come in there and crawl in bed next to you like when I was a little kid,” Rylee said in exasperation, then looked up at Mason. “Curt likes to do night patrol to protect his goats, apparently.”
“Fainting goats,” Tate added, still clutching the covers under his chin.
“What. The hell,” Mason muttered, glancing from one to the other and willing his heart to slow the fuck down. The damn thing had nearly stopped, waking up like that to unexpected gunfire in the middle of the night. For that split second before his brain had snapped into gear, he’d thought he was back in Afghanistan.
“I know. Scared the crap out of me the first time too. Well, I’m still not used to it, actually.” Rylee patted his bare back, then cleared her throat and dropped her hand, wiping it on her jeans.
Shit, he was covered in a damp sweat. “What’s he shooting at?” Mason demanded. What the hell kind of redneck town was this, anyway?
“Coyotes. Maybe a mountain lion or a wolf. He’s a crack shot. Former Marine Raider.”
“Yeah, but we all know those guys shoot like shit.”
Tate grunted, apparently not amused by the wisecrack, and waved them both away with one hand. “Can you guys shut my door now?”
“Yeah.” Mason jerked the door shut and turned to face Rylee. She was fully dressed, her hair all mussed from sleep. She looked okay, though. “How you feeling, young lady?”
“Better.” Her gaze dropped to the hardwood floor. Ever prescient of human emotion, Ric went over to sit at her feet and look up at her with his chin pressed to her thigh. She reached down to stroke him. “Guess you heard about what happened?”
“Yeah.” He was mad as hell that some asshole had drugged her and taken her friend.
She raised her eyes to his. “Did Uncle Tate say there was any news on Samantha when you talked to him?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
She nodded, looked down again.
“Hey.” He waited for her to meet his eyes. “Not your fault, all right?”
“I feel like it is, though. I’m really worried about her. And I keep thinking that it could’ve been me…”
Mason set his hand on her shoulder, wishing he could make it better. The world was a fucked-up place when a woman couldn’t even go out with friends on a Friday night without fearing something like this. “Yeah, that had to have hit home hard. But thankfully yo
u’re here, safe and sound, and your uncle Tate and I will make sure you stay that way.”
She gave him a sad smile. “Thanks. Think you can go back to sleep now?”
Smart cookie. She knew he was battling his demons and that the gunfire could trigger them. Maybe because she’d seen what her mom had gone through. “Please. After serving in the military for so long, I can drop off anywhere in seconds.”
A total lie. He used to be able to. Not anymore. Not when every time he closed his eyes it transported him back to those final moments as they plunged toward the earth. Then the impact, followed by the hellish screams and images he couldn’t forget.
“Good. See you in the morning?”
“Yeah. Get some sleep, kiddo. We’ll take care of everything in the morning.”
Rylee nodded. “Okay. Good night, Ric, you cutie pie.” She went back to her room.
Mason went back to the basement, Ric at his heels. Back down in his room, he shut the door and sat on the edge of the bed. He let out a long breath, dragged a hand through his hair and realized it was trembling a little.
Shit. He’d hoped coming here would give him a fresh start. But it seemed he’d never be able to outrun his ghosts, no matter where he went.
He dropped back onto the covers and lay there staring up at the thin strips of moonlight on the ceiling coming through the slats in the blinds. Tried to clear his mind.
Another rifle shot echoed from outside.
Even though his brain understood there was no imminent threat, his body didn’t. His heart rate jacked up, his skin cool and clammy with a light sheen of sweat as his mind transported him back to his recurring nightmare.
Screams. Firefight. Flames and smoke. Trapped…
He sucked in a deep breath, staring up at those strips of light as he sought something to push the awful memories away. A certain strawberry-blonde popped into his head.
Long, shapely legs. Golden eyes hiding things he wanted to know. Angel eyes.
His heart rate slowed, the sense of alarm receding as he thought of Avery. He’d heard a lot about her over the past few months from Tate, but Tate had never told him how hot his partner was. Or how distant.
