“It’s okay. I know,” he said, “and it wasn’t supposed to be a battle today, either, remember? This was supposed to be a babysitting job, not dodging assassins and bombs. Certainly not forced to defend our retreat.” He circled her with both arms and held her a little tighter.
“It’s just that one minute they’re shooting at us. I thought they might hit Nima, and then I didn’t care if they hit me or not, but I shouldn’t have done that in front of a baby. I mean, she’s sitting right next to me watching me shoot and listening to me swear and… and...” Ember turned her face into his shirt. “And kill.”
“You surprised me,” he muttered into the top of her head. “I turned around to see who was in the car with me. Thought maybe you turned into Mark or Harley. Heck, Ember, you sounded just like Alex.” He meant it humorously. Alex did have a potty mouth. He tended to turn into the fiend from hell when pushed.
“But I killed someone today,” she whined, wetting his shirt with tears.
He squeezed her tighter, his heart hammering with the need to pull her onto his lap and kiss those tears away. “And I’m glad you did. You saved Nima. Think of it that way. There was nothing else you could’ve done.”
She nodded and sniffed. Bleary, red-rimmed emeralds peered up at him. “I know, but—”
“But nothing. You’d do it again. As hard as it was, you’d save Nima and me every time. I know you would.”
Her head bobbed with another shiver and a gulp. “You’re right. I would.”
He cupped her chin with his fingers, fighting for willpower not to seal those sad puckered lips with his. “You done good out there, Agent Davis. I had my hands full driving the car, but Nima’s alive because of your fast thinking and guts. I’m damned proud to serve with you.”
She gulped and wiped her face. “Thanks. I think.”
“Don’t overthink it. You did what you had to do. That’s all. Move on.”
“I’m a mess, huh?”
He gave her a handful of tissues. Yes, she was a mess. A beautiful, disheveled needing to be loved mess, and maybe his lap was no longer the safest place for her. He strove for more self-control than he’d needed in a long time. “Nah, you just look like most guys after battle. You’re not the first to feel this way. You won’t be the last.” He pushed a loose blonde curl away from the lip she kept chewing.
“I bet you didn’t hug many Marines like this back in Iraq.”
He focused on tucking the strand of hair behind her ear, his boys alive with the need to do more than hug her. “You’d be surprised. Sometimes even the toughest guys need a hug.”
The words were no more than out of his mouth when she threw her arms around his neck, quivering with what sure felt like fear mixed with something else. The need for forgiveness, maybe? Security? Intimacy? His heart lurched. He squeezed his eyes shut and held her, soaking in the warmth and tenderness of a good woman.
“Thanks,” she whispered into his neck. “Your mom was right.”
Protectiveness demolished his last shred of sound judgment. He couldn’t speak, the feel of her in his arms so right. This was definitely who and what was missing from his life. The urge to hold her in a more intimate embrace flooded him with heat. The long denied masculine response of a man who’d lived alone and apart for too long sprang to life, filled with blood and heavy with desire. She wasn’t the only one with needs. Their world had changed. The mission, too. He had to keep her as safe as Nima.
Sheepishly, she turned sideways and into his chest, looking at the sleeping child on the bed and pushing away. He let her go, but only because he had to.
“This little girl of ours doesn’t seem to eat much, does she?”
She probably didn’t even realize what she’d said, but he did. This little girl of ours....
If only….
“I’ve noticed. Let’s wake her up when you’re done with your shower. At least get her on the same schedule we’re on, whatever that is.” He arched his brows at that ridiculous statement, needing to create distance between him and his co-agent. She was right to pull away. Neither of them needed the trouble. “Sound like a plan?”
“And then we’ll run for our lives again?”
It took all of his restraint to not taste the quivering shells of her pink lips. “Maybe, but I’ll bet the storm slowed down whoever’s after us, too. Let’s do what we can for now. Let’s rest up and get some food. Who knows? Maybe we can find another car in this one horse town and drive all night. How does California sound?”
“Good,” Ember agreed quickly. “Poor David, huh?”
“His car doesn’t look like a family car anymore, does it?”
“It is missing a few things.”
“Like the back window,” Rory quipped, still trying to lighten the moment.
“And a lot of paint.”
“Go take your shower.”
“I’ll be done in a minute.”
Rory listened until she’d closed the bathroom door and turned the shower on. Nima snored softly on the motel bed. The place was a dive, no ifs, ands or buts about it, but tonight, it served its purpose. Thunder still boomed and lightning popped outside. Tonight was definitely a good night to stay off the roads.
Whoever these people were who’d tracked him and Ember to the safe house and as quickly to McCormack’s summer home, they were fast and determined. He counted their time spent in the safe house between arrival and departure: less than ten hours. Their time at McCormack’s was even less. The shopping spree had been a stupid decision. No doubt these assassins could’ve finished the fight at the department store while he and Ember foolishly picked out new clothes like they had all the time in the world.
Another stab of lightning flashed. Rory worried. As much as he’d tried to calm Ember, his gut still needled him. Rain wouldn’t stop these assassins any more than it would’ve stopped him. It might have slowed him down, but not for long. The assassins were still coming. The shabby motel would not stand in their way.
Tendrils of worry kept pushing him to the edge of an enlightenment that wouldn’t materialize. He was missing something else. He just didn’t know what.
Nine
Ember didn’t linger in the shower, only enough to rinse off and get warm. Or try to. Within minutes, she eased her legs back in her damp jeans. She shivered into her wet hoody. The bathroom, with its cracked floor tiles and dingy grout along the tub, matched the dark day. Whoever owned the Over the Rainbow Dive certainly didn’t understand the concept of re-investing in their own business.
Too edgy to take the time to blow dry her hair, she wrapped her hair in a quick braid and twisted it into a knot at the back of her head. One glance in the mirror only added to her dark mood. Puffy red eyes stared back at her. Could she possibly embarrass herself any worse? Falling apart in front of her senior agent in charge? Just the thought of her indiscretion sent a shudder up her spine. She’d actually hugged him like a snot-nosed little girl who needed her daddy. Eww. This was not one of her better days.
Man, she wanted a cup of coffee. Two cream, no sugar, just like Rory had handed her this morning. He’d certainly turned out to be a surprise. Hell, the whole damned operation had.
When she opened the bathroom door, he was sprawled on the bed beside Nima, humming rock-a-bye baby. Ember watched for a minute, content to take in the view of his shoulders, wide, strong and sure. He wore the new jeans and the comfortable gray flannel shirt. Had he tossed bales of hay as a young man? He sure looked like he had. Strength seemed to sit as comfortably on him as flannel and denim.
Ember looked down over his back at Nima. The little girl stared up with drowsy, half-open eyes. Rory stroked her cheek enough to keep her waking up.
“Aww, she’s tired. Maybe we should let her sleep.”
“Can’t. The sheriff’s escort should be here soon and she needs to eat.”
Ember leaned over his back to Nima. Wow. She might as well have been leaning over a rock wall. This guy was solid.
“Hey,
baby girl. Are you ready to get up?” she asked, trying real hard not to notice the warmth of Rory’s back against her thighs. Or her stomach. Or the temptation to climb into bed next to him and feel his arms around her again.
Nima yawned and stretched, arching her back off the mattress. A tiny red handprint showed on her cheek from where she’d lain on it. She stuck her lips out in a cute pout, her nose scrunched up. Everything about this little gal was just plain adorable.
“Come on. Up you go,” Ember coaxed, pulling the little one up and over Rory while she got her head on straight. The domestic feeling between him and her had to stop. Teasing him in a black towel was one thing. Listening to him open up and share the feelings of his heart quite another. There had to be a way to get back to the professional standoff they’d started this operation with.
But picking up Nima came with the warm whiff of—him. Ember’s throat tightened. It was hard to talk when she wanted to breathe deeply. “How about you shower while I feed Nima? That way we can get out of here faster.”
“Okay, Boss, whatever you say.” He rolled off the bed and headed to the bathroom, seemingly oblivious to the encounter she’d felt right down to her toes.
She pulled open his backpack, looking for more food. The pack was so—Rory. Yogurt on top of blue ice packs where it wouldn’t spoil. He’d also packed two plastic bags, one full of sliced vegetables, the other chocolate bars. His thoughtfulness and foresight stirred an inner restlessness. Why did everything about him tug at her?
“Let’s eat.” Ember opened the carton of vanilla yogurt before it dawned on her they had no spoons. Or did they? She checked the backpack. Sure enough. Safely tucked in an inside pocket, she found a kitchen towel with utensils. Further rummaging revealed another plastic bag with several paper plates.
Nima gobbled the yogurt. With a lip-smacking pop, she was done and ready for more.
“Are you still hungry?”
Nima smacked her lips enthusiastically, so Ember dished a small helping of the salad. “Look what else I found? Uncle Rory’s been holding out on us.” She held up one of the chocolate bars. “When you finish eating, we’ll have dessert.”
Nima froze and pivoted her head from her paper plate of salad to the treat under her nose.
“Oh, no you don’t. Food first. Dessert second.”
The cutest mischief sparkled in the little girl’s eyes. “Me chock-it?”
“You like chocolate?”
Soft blue eyes lit up. The con was on. Nima leaned forward, her fingers outstretched and nodding. “Me. Chock-it.” She wasn’t asking. The tip of her tiny pink tongue stuck out between her lips. The glint in her eye was Ember’s undoing. How could anyone resist? By the time Rory was done showering, Ember had Nima on her lap sharing the chocolate treat.
A warm smile split his face. “You two look comfy.”
“We found the chocolate.”
“How’d she eat?” Rory sat on the edge of the bed to lace up his boots.
“Good. You pack a mighty fine backpack, Agent Dennison.”
“Looks like dessert hit the spot.”
Nima licked her index finger with another satisfied pop. “Yep.”
He smirked. “Women.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Ember feigned offense.
“Oh, just that women and chocolate go together like salt and pepper. Let’s call Alex.”
Her expression darkened. “I don’t care what he says. I’m not taking her back. It’s not safe in Virginia. The TEAM might be there, but so were the assassins. That’s where everything started. Why doesn’t Alex come to us?”
“Sometimes what you want is not what you need.”
Nima had just blurted another one of her soul-searing revelations. Without batting an eye, she helped herself to the uneaten chocolate in Ember’s limp fingers and smiled while chocolate dribbled at the corners of her lips.
Ember froze. Nima’s words struck a chord all the way to her soul. What do you want, Ember? Rory needs Tyler. Tyler needs his dad. What is it you need to be truly happy, Ember?
She could have answered the question clearly the day before the operation began. Now, not so much.
“I don’t know.”
Rory’s brows arched.
Damn. Did I just say that out loud?
He’d already dialed Alex, disturbing her reverie with, “Hey, Boss—”
And a different kind of lightning struck inside their shabby hotel room. Rory couldn’t get a complete sentence out of his mouth. “Well, yeah, but we’ve been kind of busy—”
“I know, but—”
“Okay, but—”
Alex must be his usual, ornery and ignorant self, a welcome distraction from the confusing sensations bubbling inside what used to be her logical brain. As much as she loved the man, there were times he needed a good smack upside his hard head. Listening was not his forte.
Rory stood, his shoulders back, his breath coming in short bursts through his nostrils. He seemed taller all of a sudden, his back ramrod straight. He listened for a final second of what sounded like abuse before he spoke, but when he did, his voice carried a definite tone of, ‘Shut the hell up and listen.’ From what Ember could hear coming through the receiver, Rory talked right over Alex.
“And I fully understand, but if you’d think for one second instead of biting my head off, you’d understand we were under extreme duress. We had no way to contact you until we stopped for gas. And for your information, Ember contacted Mother at that point. Where were you?” His voice strong and low, he didn’t sound accusatory as very much no-nonsense. “And there you have it. You were in a meeting with I don’t damned care who. I have a child to think of. She and Ember get top billing. Not you!”
Nima and I get top billing? A very pleasant warmth replaced the emptiness in Ember’s core at his words, but they wouldn’t go over too well with Alex, the absolute alpha male of bosses. Everything was always about him. Rory’s voice mellowed. Hmm. Was Alex actually listening? Wow. A definite first.
“No. Ember and I both agree we are not bringing Nima back to Virginia.” He was silent as he listened again. “Yes. Understood. We’re at a motel called the Over the Rainbow Inn. When the storm lets up, we’re buying another car and getting back on the road.” He was quiet. “Did Mother find out who’s after us yet?” Rory pursed his lips. “Sure. We’ll sit tight, but they said they’d provide an escort earlier. No one showed.”
He was quiet again. “Where are Maxwell and Fred?”
She held her breath. It seemed obvious.
“Goodnight,” Rory said. He shot her a somber glance.
“They’re...?” She let her question hang. The word itself was not necessary. What could he say? Once again the assassins had the upper hand. Rory pushed both hands through his damp hair. It was not fear in his eyes. More like do or die.
“The highway patrol will be here in twenty minutes. They’re giving us an armored escort. Alex wants us home where The TEAM can protect us. He’s got the FBI on-site. He thinks we can draw the assassins out in the open. What do you think?”
“He thought Maxwell and Fred could help us, too,” she said quietly. “That didn’t happen.”
He nodded, the light in his eyes subdued. “Right.”
“Nima won’t be safe no matter where we go.”
“No, Ember. It only seems that way because you’ve gotten attached to her. No one can keep her as safe as you and me. Let’s go with the highway patrol. Give them a chance. At least we’ll have a couple more shotguns along for the ride. It couldn’t hurt.”
“They’d better be driving an MRAP then,” she growled.
He cocked his head, listening to something outside. The rumble of a slow moving train shook the walls of their motel room next to the tracks. “I’m glad we won’t have to sleep with that racket tonight. Anything else you want to take with you?”
“Just this little one and you.” Damn. Her heart had spoken out loud for the first time in a long time. Ne
eding to change the subject, she said, “It will be nice to sleep in my own bed tonight.”
“Uh, huh.”
“Maybe I’ll have you and Tyler over for dinner sometime. Would you like that?”
He was glued to the window, obviously not listening.
“I might dance naked on the table while I’m at it,” she murmured, testing his lack of focus.
“Dance naked later. They’re here.” He winked as he hoisted the backpacks over one shoulder. “That, I’ve got to see. Come on. They’re in the parking lot. Let’s not keep ’em waiting.”
Sheesh. That was definitely not the smartest wisecrack she could’ve made, especially after her escapade with the towel. His wink didn’t help, neither did the gentle hand on her back when he opened the door.
Three Pennsylvania state patrol cruisers filled the motel’s weedy asphalt parking lot, their powerful engines growling. Santa and eight tiny reindeer couldn’t have looked any better. Rory seemed pleased, too. He winked. She snuggled Nima on her hip and took another step. The nightmare was nearly—
BLAM! WHOOSH! BANG!
She bounced backward to her butt. Oomph! Nima was plastered against her, punching the breath out of her. Motel windows shattered. Flaming debris ricocheted through the air and fell from the sky. A car wheel landed not two feet in front of her with a dull thud. Wicked flames devoured what was left of the vehicles. Nima squealed, her tiny hands now a suffocating grip on Ember’s neck.
Salvation was come and gone. Clutching Nima tightly to her chest, Ember crab-scrambled backward to the safety of their open motel room. Instantly, she met a wall named Rory. He pushed his knee into her back as quickly as her butt hit the threshold and her hand gripped the doorjamb.
She elbowed him hard. “Get outta my way!”
“Knock it off, Davis.” The steel vise of his hand pulled her backside off the ground. “Get up. Run, damn it.”
Rory (In the Company of Snipers Book 6) Page 11
