by Liz Johnson
There was no casual response to such a loaded question. Especially not following a chaste kiss on his cheek that had him feeling things he’d sworn he never would.
Her eyebrows pulled together until two little lines appeared between them, as though she expected something from him.
Right. She was waiting on his answer.
Why? Why indeed.
Clearing his throat, he scrambled through the recesses of his mind for the right answer. For the truth. Just not the whole truth.
Nope. The whole truth would scare her.
It scared him.
Mostly it scared him that someday he might not be able to keep it in check and he’d act on it.
“Well, you needed me. Or at least a place to stay and access to better health care. I’ve known you since I was thirteen, and Aaron would have wanted me to watch out for you and Cody. How could I not?”
Her eyes narrowed like she was trying to see through him. And maybe she was succeeding.
She knew. She had to. She could see it on his face, in his eyes, in the way he couldn’t keep his hands still. She could hear it in the hammering of his heart.
She’d figured out the truth, that he’d been in love with her since he was sixteen. Maybe she’d known all along. While it was never stated, it must have been obvious that she had only to voice her choice and she could have had either of them.
Zach was the wild summer visitor, Aaron the boy next door.
But it had always been clear that Kristi preferred Aaron’s soft-spoken bearing to Zach’s rumble-tumble ways. She liked his stability and temperate demeanor.
Zach had gotten into a hotheaded fight or two and ended up with a black eye more than once. He hadn’t known how to be like Aaron.
He still didn’t. Even though that’s what she needed.
Which meant he wasn’t the one she needed.
For the moment, in the danger, he might be enough. He could protect her until they figured out who was after her. Maybe God had brought them together again because she needed him at the moment. Twelve years ago, he’d been sure that God was telling him to wait, showing him that the time wasn’t right.
Now he knew it never would be. She needed him now. But when this whole mess was over, she’d need a different kind of man. Letting himself really care for her, truly falling in love again, was a disaster waiting to happen. A broken heart waiting in the wings.
So why had he come to her rescue?
Because he didn’t want to forget that he’d been in love with her once.
Even if he couldn’t afford to do it again.
“It’s what I do,” he said with a shrug. “I help the people who need it.”
Pinching her lips like she still doubted his reasoning, she finally nodded. “Well…thank you. I should have said that sooner.”
“You could have written me back.” The words popped out unbidden and unplanned, and he wished he could shove them back inside when she yanked her head off his shoulder and covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.”
She shook her head so hard that her curls bounced. “No. It’s okay. I mean, you’re right. I should have written to you.” Shoulders drooping, she sighed. “I did write you.”
His forehead wrinkled, and he rubbed at it, trying to remember if he’d forgotten mail from her. No. He’d remember that. He’d have cherished anything from her. It would have been worn thin from refolding, rereading. And he didn’t have anything like that.
“Only I never sent them.”
That explained it.
Actually, no.
It didn’t explain anything.
“I don’t understand.”
Her cheeks took on the color of a ripe strawberry before she buried her face in her hands. “I wrote to you every time you wrote to me. But I chickened out before mailing them.” She peeked between her fingers, and he’d never seen her look quite so vulnerable. Quite so adorable.
Setting his laptop and his search aside, he turned to face her. “I’m going to need a little more detail than that.” His tone more resembled an interrogation than a man speaking to his wife, so he quickly adjusted it. “Didn’t I say that I looked forward to hearing from you?”
“You did.”
It was clear she wasn’t going to continue and clear she couldn’t meet his gaze, so he gave her jean-clad knee a nudge with his own. “So why not send them?”
Her eyes rolled toward the ceiling, holding on a spot above his head as she chewed on her thumbnail. When she opened her mouth, the words rolled out like a song. “They’re kind of raw. I was raw. I was scared about Cody. I was starting over in a new city. At first, I didn’t have any friends. Not to mention, I was married to a man I wasn’t sure I knew.”
That hit him like a punch to the jaw, ringing in his ears and drowning out what followed.
After a while her soliloquy died down, and she lowered her gaze to meet his. Her chin quivered as she admitted the most painful truth. “I wasn’t sure I could trust you.”
“And now?”
He held his breath, praying that she’d changed her mind about him, praying that he’d somehow proven that he was worthy of her trust. Lord, I’d take another bullet to show her that she can rely on me.
Despite the tremble still on display, she managed a half smile. She picked up his hand and pressed it over her heart. The beats were sure and steady.
“We wouldn’t have survived the last weeks without you. There’s no way.” Tears pooled in her eyes, but she didn’t look away. And she didn’t blink them free. “I owe you my life. And my son’s life. I’d trust you with anything.”
Except her heart.
She didn’t have to say it for him to hear it.
But for a moment he didn’t care. Her trust was enough—even if he never had her love.
As one tear broke loose from her eyes, leaving a silver track down her cheek, he thumbed it away. Her skin was softer than a cloud, and she shivered at his touch. Leaning in, she pressed her hand to the middle of his chest, effectively stealing all of his air.
Fine with him. He didn’t need it anyway.
“Thank you,” she whispered, narrowing the gap between them.
“For what?” He sounded like a toad had taken up residence in his throat.
She sounded like a butterfly carried her words. “For being trustworthy.”
And then she was a breath away. She closed her eyes, and her tongue darted across her lip. She fisted her fingers into his shirt and pulled him closer until there was only air and a prayer between them.
He was a goner.
There was no audience this time. No mistletoe. No coercion.
No surprise.
Still, when her lips met his, it felt like a boot to his stomach.
But a good one. The best one.
She was soft and yielding, yet she knew exactly what she wanted. And he was happy to give it.
Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her to him. At first, she squeaked, startled, but then she sighed into him. She fit perfectly, like no one else ever had. Like they’d been made to connect like this.
Her fingers brushed around his ears and then latched behind his neck, holding him in place. It shot lightning through his mind until he couldn’t remember why this was a bad idea. He couldn’t think about anything except Kristi.
There was no room for regrets or might-have-beens.
He could only focus on keeping her right where she was for as long as she’d stay there. There was only her sweetness. Only her honesty. Only the way she made him want to be the best version of himself.
She needed that of him now. Second best wouldn’t suffice for this operation.
Her shoulder brushed his, setting off another round of lightning. Sliding a hand into her hair, he combed his fingers through the curls. A callus on his palm snagged on a strand, tugging gently on her head. He froze, praying it wouldn’t break the trance that encompassed them. He needed just another minute.
If this was the last time he ever got to hold her this close, the last time he was ever surrounded by her sweet honeysuckle scent, he wanted it to be perfect.
And it was.
Her fingers tiptoed their way down the back of his neck, and he melted.
He lost track of who was holding whom. Arms entwined, hips and noses bumping, it didn’t matter. Only that they were together.
And in another world maybe they could be together forever.
When she pulled away, her chest rose and fell in quick succession. His did, too.
Her fingertips were a whisper against his cheek. His eyes stayed closed, savoring the sensation, as she said, “I think I was a little bit scared of you.”
This gut punch wasn’t nearly as pleasant as the last. His eyes flew open. “You were afraid of me?” He hated the thought. Had he said something wrong or come on too strong?
“Not you exactly.” She blinked bashful eyes open. “It was what you represented. A future I couldn’t define.”
He couldn’t delineate their future either. Nothing was certain between them. He’d said they’d figure it out. But this was the first time they’d so much as broached the subject since their wedding day. And he didn’t have any answers. Probably wouldn’t for the foreseeable future. He couldn’t possibly let her go until Cody was safe and the proud owner of a healthy heart. But then, once he knew that Kristi and Cody were free of danger and had a secure future ahead of them, did he really have the right to hold on to them? At that point, if she wanted to be free, he was honor bound to let her go.
But he couldn’t worry about that for now. Not with the current problem requiring all his thought and concentration. He’d find that rich donor with a reason to need a heart—since apparently the scum didn’t have one of his own. And then Zach would track him down and make sure he never hurt another child again.
TWELVE
Kristi could slap herself for waking up a second time regretting a kiss with Zach that never should have happened.
And yet the way he had held her so tenderly yet protectively and kissed her until she thought the top of her head might fly off had been more than she’d dare dream she’d ever experience again.
She hadn’t once thought about Aaron.
At least not in the middle of it.
After? Well, that had been harder. After, she’d thought about her first and second kiss with Aaron. After, she couldn’t help but compare. She’d also found herself wondering what he would think of all of this. Would he want her to be happy again?
But that was a ridiculous question. Aaron had sacrificed himself daily to make her happy, serving her in all the small ways. He made the bed every morning because he knew it was her least favorite chore. He put on a smiling face and ate her burnt casseroles every night that first year without complaint. He loved her.
Of course he wanted her to be happy—even if it meant moving on from him.
And he’d like knowing that his best friend was the one who kept putting a smile on her face in the midst of such a terrible circumstance. So she didn’t try to hide her smile as Zach barreled into the kitchen, his jaw covered in twenty-four hours of facial hair and eyes wild.
“I found it. I found him.”
A band around her chest tightened as she searched for breath. “Who?” But she knew who. Only she didn’t believe it could be real.
Zach plopped his laptop on the counter next to her bowl of oatmeal and pointed at the screen. “Look.” He gasped for air, the first time she’d seen him so shaken up. Except for when he kissed her. But that was different. Sort of.
And there was no time to think about that.
She scanned the screen, which was filled with pictures of tuxedo-clad men and women in dazzling gowns. “What is this?”
“It’s a pediatric heart disease fund-raiser. It was held in Palm Springs at one of the swanky resorts just a few months ago. See?” He pointed at a picture of a woman accepting a giant white check.
“But the donor we’re looking for could be anyone.”
He nodded, his hands moving a little too fast, his nostrils flaring. “I know. I looked up every name of every person identified at the event. And I dug up as much information as I could on each of them.”
“When?”
“Last night. And this morning.” He shrugged. “Had a hard time sleeping.”
Heat rushed up her neck, but she forced herself to focus on the screen. “Anyone interesting?”
“A couple guys.” He scrolled halfway down the event’s page. “This one is the president of a bank. I don’t know how much a guy like that makes. Maybe he doesn’t have two million dollars to throw around, but it says here that he made a sizable donation to the foundation. If he doesn’t usually have that kind of money on hand, he sure knows how to get it.”
The man in question, D. Edward Baker, looked like her grandfather. Silver hair and bushy eyebrows did little to hide the sagging skin of his face. But his pale eyes were bright, and the corners wrinkled as he smiled.
He looked far too kind to be capable of targeting children, and she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Zach nodded but said, “We’ll keep him on our list.”
“Who else do you have?”
With a flip of his finger, the screen zipped down to another picture. This one of two men and a little girl. The girl was dressed up in her finest—a flowing gold gown and a tiara that cemented her position as a princess for the night. She held both men’s hands, but only one had been caught by the camera smiling down at her. His bow tie was a little bit skewed, and despite the smile there was sadness in the lines around his mouth.
She pointed at him. “Who’s that?”
Zach leaned over her shoulder, the impossibly soft cotton of his T-shirt brushing against her arm and his scent swirling around her until she felt a little light-headed.
“B. Loughlin. I looked him up, but there wasn’t much info on him. He’s in commercial real estate. But his buddy there, the one with the seventies mustache, is Carols del Olmo. That’s the little girl’s dad.”
She squinted at the picture, a sizzle of recognition racing down her arms. “Do you know him?”
“No. Never seen him before in my life. Why? You?”
The memory was there, but she couldn’t seem to put her finger on it. “I’m not sure. I feel like I should know him. Like I’ve seen him before.”
“Well, he does have quite a web presence, which isn’t surprising since he’s the CEO of a large tech company in Simi Valley. He’s been in the news a few times talking about a federal lawsuit about tech security. Maybe that’s where you’ve seen him?”
Kristi almost laughed. “I haven’t watched the news in a year. There’s no time between Cody and work and all of this.”
“His company is worth nearly two billion dollars.” Zach snorted. “And those are conservative estimates. The guy’s loaded.”
So the money wouldn’t be an issue for him either.
But she couldn’t shake the sense of his familiarity, and it bothered her. Was he a friend, or did he too closely resemble one of the guys who chased them at the mall? Or did he look like a celebrity she’d seen on the cover of a magazine in line at the grocery store?
He was rather handsome. His dark brown hair waved across his forehead, and his nose gave him a regal air. Even the mustache worked in his favor, making him look like a younger Tom Selleck.
Was that why he looked so familiar?
“Is he in any of the other pictures?”
With a shrug that said Zach didn’t know, he scrolled down the page. The steady stream of pictures gave way to an article about the event, interspersed with an occasional picture here and there.
Suddenly one all but reached out and grabbed her. “Wait. Stop. Look.”
Zach squinted and leaned in. It seemed to take a moment for the truth to register with him, but when it did, his mouth dropped open. “That’s—”
“Denise Engle.” Her stomach rebell
ed, and she wrapped her arms around herself. It didn’t do much to help. “I saw that picture in Denise’s office, too. She has it hanging on the wall next to her desk. I knew I’d seen him before.”
“Are they… I don’t know. Friends?”
“I have no idea. She’s not returning my phone calls right now. Maybe he’s the real reason she’s not going to release the names on the transplant list.” She scrolled back up to the picture of him and the little girl. “Do you think his daughter needs the heart?”
“I don’t know. But I sure think a dad would do anything he could to save his child. It’s worth asking him.”
“Asking him? How are we going to track down a billionaire CEO?”
Zach worked his hand over his head a few times. “Well, I can probably find his address.”
“You can?”
Zach shot her a you’ve-got-be-kidding-me look and gently pressed her out of the way so he could stand in front of the laptop. With a few clicks, he popped up a website that promised public addresses. But a search for Carlos del Olmo drew a blank. “No problem. County records are open to the public. If he owns property, it’ll be on here.”
Fingers flying over the keyboard, he worked his way into the county property records, searched and brought up five addresses in the Simi Valley area all belonging to Carlos del Olmo.
Her shoulders drooped, and the hope that had been building inside evaporated.
He laughed, and she gave him a pointed, but gentle, elbow to the stomach. “We don’t have time to run around to all of these places,” she reminded him.
His eyebrows danced. “No need. Let’s take a look at these properties on a map. A man like del Olmo may own an apartment building, but you can be sure he’s not living there.”
A tiny smile crept across her lips. “How’d you get so smart?”
Shooting her a sly wink, he navigated to an aerial map that showed a view of the property. The first was very clearly a business. The building was large and blocky, and from the street level, they could see a sign. Del Olmo Technologies. His office building.
