Bulletproof Badge

by Angi Morgan

  Coffee gone, more tense than they’d been at the apartment before she kissed him—it was time to make a move. “You ready? Remember what we’re going to do?”

  “Sweet Thelma, it’s about time. This has been the longest hour of my life. And, yes, I remember.” She sprang from the bench, running straight to the sedan.

  He ran after her. “Wait. Honey. I didn’t mean it,” he shouted and waved his arms.

  She spun around, and the few contents she had in her borrowed purse fell to the street, rolling under the car, bouncing off the curb. He ran to her side. Better than they’d planned.

  “Let me help.” He crawled under the car, snagging the lipstick, but looking for anything unusual.

  No one was around. No one rushed from a hiding place. No one paid them any attention.

  Kenderly was on her knees, gathering some pennies, but looking at him. He nodded. By the time he was out from under the sedan, she had the car unlocked and was sitting in the passenger seat. He sat behind the wheel, and seconds later they were around the corner.

  Another corner. He knew exactly where he wanted to go. They’d planned it. He drove straight to a parking garage, third floor, throwing the car into P in the back corner. He popped the trunk, and they were out the doors. At the trunk he keyed the entry code to the gun lockbox, and there was the case. Kenderly put it in her purse and slung the strap around her neck. She was turning to leave when he picked up the captain’s Glock and extra magazine. He shoved the weapon into his belt and covered it with his shirt.

  The whole episode took four or five minutes. Tops. It didn’t look like they’d been followed, but he couldn’t be certain. As Kenderly was about to fly through the outside door, he yanked her behind him.

  “We walk to the bus stop. Very quickly, but we walk.” He checked his watch. “It still has a couple of minutes. When I see it, we cross the street.”

  Kenderly bent and rested her hands on her knees, catching her breath. “I can see why you like this work.”

  “Huh?”

  “Being undercover, all these getaways. They’re addictive.”

  He took her hand when the bus stopped at the light on the corner. “Here we go.”

  “All right.” She casually licked her bottom lip, still bright red from the garish lipstick.

  He didn’t care. He kissed her quick on the mouth, checked the street again—for whom, he didn’t know—and pressed the bar to open the door. Her “ha” echoed behind them as they got on the bus.

  A block later he was still looking around to see if they’d been followed.

  “Oh, wow. That was awesome.” Kenderly adjusted the scarf and pushed her sunglasses higher on her nose. “If someone wasn’t trying to kill me,” she whispered, “this would just be amazing. Don’t you love it?”

  “No. It’s dangerous.”

  “Come on. Even just the tiniest bit?” She slapped his knee.

  “I haven’t had time to think about it. We’ve been thrown a lot of surprises.”

  “Is it always like this?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked with a curious face that was cute even with the heavy makeup.

  “I mean that this might, sort of be...like my first...” He nodded his head, hoping she’d catch on without him having to admit it out loud.

  “What? Ooohhh. Really? You mean I’m your first?” she asked a little louder.

  Heads turned. An older gentleman with a cane winked. A mom moved to the front with her child.

  “No. Wait. That’s not what I—you don’t understand.” He wanted to set the conversation straight with the passengers, but he couldn’t.

  “You don’t have to explain yourself, young man,” a white-haired lady said two rows back. “It takes courage to wait for anything in this day and age.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I mean, you misunderstood. She’s not talking about sex.”

  “Oh my, is that what she meant?” The older woman feigned shock.

  “You’re just giving me a hard time.” He smiled and did what came naturally...he took a few minutes of harmless flirtation to catch his breath and keep an eye on traffic behind the bus.

  The woman—named Frankie—got off, and he turned back in his seat. Kenderly had an all-knowing grin.

  “What?”

  “I win.”

  Damn. He’d lost the bet. No question. For the rest of the day, he was hers to command. At least he was armed.

  * * *

  KENDERLY FELT LIKE a spy in a movie. Their plan had worked. Completely. Wonderfully. They had the jewelry box. And she’d won the bet. She could ask Garrison to do everything for the rest of the day.

  After running in shoes that were a little too big, maybe she would ask for the foot massage he’d suggested. It would serve him right if she did. Actually, the idea of a full body massage wasn’t so lame at all. As soon as they found out what was inside the case. She patted the rectangle safely in Rose’s purse as they climbed the stairs to the apartment.

  “Stay here.” Garrison pointed to a step halfway up the last flight.

  She did as she was told while he entered the apartment, checked things out and waved at her to come inside. He was looking through a crack in the shade when she turned the dead bolt into place.

  “Still no sign of the bad guys?”

  “Something is very wrong or we’re very lucky.”

  “I’m going with lucky. Come on.” She patted the seat next to her on the couch. “Do we need to document this or anything? Forget that I asked that. I’m not waiting.”

  The jewelry box sat in her lap. She couldn’t be patient. Garrison stood in front of her, almost at attention. She hesitated and he gave a nod. She closed her eyes—either wishing or praying—and flipped open the lid.

  “We need a computer.”

  She opened her eyes and found a flash drive. “Nothing else?”

  “This is good news. That might be a money trail. Mind if I keep this?” Without waiting on a response, he snatched it from the box. “Does your friend have a laptop?”

  “If she does, which isn’t likely, she probably took it with her. I haven’t seen one here.”

  He wandered around the room. She had no clue what he expected to find now. He’d already been through the apartment and knew what was in every corner. He tossed the flash drive in the air, catching it like a baseball. “Looks like we have to wait to find out what’s on this thing.”

  “We could go somewhere...”

  “We risked a lot to get this today. I’m not putting you in danger like that again. Nope, we wait. We’re safe here and should stick it out until we hear from Jesse.”

  “So we’re stuck here for two more days, then we call Waco? Meanwhile, every person we know believes we’re wanted for murder.”

  “Better that than in the hands of Tenoreno because we’re too curious about what’s on this thing.” He tossed the flash drive, caught it and shoved it in his pocket. “The tech crew would remind me that it’s better for them to take the first look at it anyway. But, yeah, I’m curious, and my body’s pumped from outrunning them earlier. It’s going to be hard to sit still for two days.”

  “It’s sort of a letdown after finding it.” She toed off her shoes and remembered the heavy makeup. “I’m going to get this stuff off my face. Be right back.”

  When she had finished washing her face, Garrison was in the kitchen. Wig on the table, button shirt on the back of the chair, face being scrubbed in the sink. She just stood there. Staring. So glad to be simply watching and not running from yet another man wielding a gun.

  “Hey, you lost the bet.” She handed him the dish towel to dry his face.

  “I sure did,” he mumbled behind the towel. “Ready to eat? As my first command, I’ll make dinne
r.”

  “I’ve given it great consideration, you know.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes. I really think I need that back massage you offered.”

  “That wasn’t an offer, sweetheart. It was a request.” He opened the freezer, taking a box down before it really registered that dinner would be from a frozen package.

  “It was a good idea. I’m still stiff from bouncing on the back of your motorcycle.”

  “I’ll put a pizza in the oven, and you get out of your shirt and pants.”

  “What?” She wasn’t certain he heard her since he kept talking, issuing instructions.

  “Grab that sheet you used last night. I think I saw some lotion on the dresser.” He quirked an eyebrow in her direction while folding the pizza box to fit the trash can. “Do you expect me to massage you through your clothes?”

  “Well, yeah. I thought you’d rub my shoulders a while.”

  “Trust me.” He winked. “This’ll be great.”

  She didn’t feel in charge while grabbing the lotion, sheet and a towel. But before marching back into the living room and telling Ranger Travis a thing or two about flipping the tables...she changed clothes, borrowing a workout top and yoga pants from Rose.

  Much more confident, she gathered the items and was ready to put Garrison in his place. He wouldn’t be getting her out of her clothes unless she decided. And at the moment she hadn’t decided.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The window blinds swung into the wall as Garrison turned to face her and dropped them, once again caught keeping watch over the parking lot. He tilted his head sideways and quirked a brow as if he knew something she didn’t. Did he?

  “Is this a problem?” She pointed to her borrowed outfit.

  “Not for me. Lotion or oil?” His hands each held a bottle. “I found some on the counter.”

  The coffee table was pushed out of the way, now in front of the door. The couch cushions were on the carpet. He stood next to them ready to start. Her body tingled a little—okay, a lot—imagining his hands rubbing the kinks from her neck. “I brought sheets, so...um...oil.”

  “I’m at your service.” He bowed and dropped to his knees, hiding his face. So if he was laughing at her, she couldn’t tell. Or maybe not laughing, but absolutely commanding with his presence.

  Why did she no longer think any of this had been her idea? She was so determined back in the bedroom that she could bring him down a peg or two. She wanted a massage. Her body ached and needed to relax after the rush from earlier.

  Or did she need something more?

  Could she allow his hands to touch her body and still keep him at a distance? Just how did that work with a heart?

  It hit her like a sledgehammer to the side of her head. She could fall in love with Garrison Travis. Easily fall in love with everything about him. Of course he’d rescued her numerous times, and the adrenaline high probably had something to do with it, but she actually liked him.

  If the average date was three hours, and they’d already spent forty-eight together... That would be...sixteen dates. Maybe it wasn’t unrealistic to think she could be halfway in love with him already.

  Of all the things she knew she’d have to give up in order to stay alive...her job, her friends, a career she was hopeful about. He would be the hardest.

  When she’d walked into the room, she’d been uncertain of Garrison, uncertain that she could keep him in line. Why did she really want to?

  “We going to do this?” he asked.

  “You know what? This isn’t going to make any sense to you at all.” She spread the sheet open, concentrating on how it drifted across the cushions. It hid her from his view for a second. Long enough for the outline of a plan to set itself in her mind. His curious eyes locked with hers above the floating white cotton.

  Garrison didn’t need to say a word. He drew his breath in deep, straightened his shoulders so his chest stuck out a bit more. She could see that he knew what she was about to propose. His eyes asked exactly what had flashed through her mind. The ultimate question...was she certain?

  She was. Sixteen dates or forty-eight hours hiding from an assassin. It didn’t make any difference. She wanted this funny, slightly arrogant, very charming man. But more than that, she needed to be wrapped in his arms and feel safe.

  Not abandoned.

  She swallowed hard and stretched her fingers. “I’ve never managed to pop my knuckles like other people.”

  He cracked his own and they laughed, but he remained silent. It left the decision with her. He stayed on his knees. She joined him but on the opposite side of the cushions.

  “Lay down on your stomach, please.”

  He did without any hesitation.

  “I should have said to pull off—”

  His shirt quickly went over his head and landed near the wall.

  Kenderly popped the cap and squeezed a generous amount of oil in her hands. She’d never given a man a massage—or anyone else, for that matter. Nothing more than using her nails on a customer’s scalp during a hair wash.

  The oil felt cool, so she rubbed her palms together before touching them to Garrison’s shoulders. The muscles tensed and relaxed under her fingertips. She kneaded across the corded sinew, experiencing the restrained power within her touch. She formed a fist and twisted it gently down his spine, adding oil and keeping his skin shiny.

  Garrison’s arms were stretched out in front of him, crossed at his wrists. She tugged a little, massaging his upper muscles all the way to his fingers. She repeated the same with his other arm, then began his back again. If the short moans and sighs were an indication, she was catching on to the art quickly.

  All the while, he kept silent, allowing her to guide their encounter any direction she wanted. She worked her way to his waist. He was still wearing his jeans and boots.

  “Why were you so scared to be alone last night, Kenderly?”

  “I... I just panicked for a minute.”

  “A minute?” he asked in a muffled sort of voice.

  She continued to knead his tight shoulders. The muscles relaxed but not the feel of his strength. She was safe, and it was a wonderful, heady sensation. “I was abandoned when I was a child.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Close to seven. At least I think I was. I had it in my head that it was my birthday.”

  “You didn’t know for sure?”

  “Not really. I couldn’t read. All I had was a balloon and my sweater.”

  He lifted a shoulder attempting to sit up, but she pushed him back to the sheet. “Did they find your parents?”

  “I knew that I’d been staying with my aunt Soppie for a couple of days. At least someone who let me call them aunt Soppie. The police searched the mall, but all they could really do was wait for someone to report me missing.”

  “And no one ever did?”

  She didn’t hear pity in Garrison’s reaction so she plunged forward, with more oil on her hands. “No one. I went into foster care. There are horror stories out there, but mine’s not bad. I was placed with a genuinely loving couple. Georgia died about three years ago. Wiley died shortly after I went to live with them.”

  Tired of leaning awkwardly over him to reach his far side, she straddled his jeans-covered thighs.

  “You...um...consider yourself lucky, then?” he asked with a hitch in his voice.

  “How lucky is a person who knows nothing about their parentage or where they came from? Or even what day their real birthday is?” She sat straight, arching her back in a stretch, then she pressed her palms into his flesh again. “But, yes, Georgia was nice to me. She didn’t have any children of her own and didn’t foster anyone else. There wasn’t any jealousy or fighting. I mainly stayed to myself.”

 
The cords in his muscles rolled under her fingers like cords in a thick rope.

  “Where was this?”

  “A little town near the Gulf called Victoria. Enough about me.” She hadn’t predicted this turn in the conversation. It wasn’t exactly the sexy foreplay she’d envisioned.

  “I like hearing about you.”

  She needed to forget her lonely past and now lonely future. Instead, she needed to celebrate the moment with Garrison.

  * * *

  KENDERLY’S RHYTHM AND deep massage changed as her nails barely scraped the skin on Garrison’s back and shifted to his sides. Circle after circle got lower and lower—closer to his abs and sometimes dashing under his belt.

  Being turned on seemed like a trickling creek compared to the rushing white water racing through his veins.

  He’d watched the clock on the stereo slowly tick by. He gulped, trying to swallow with his dry throat. He wanted to flip over and give Kenderly the same torturous treatment she’d given him for the past half hour.

  As good as her massage felt, he was sweating bullets from the sensuous overtures. There wasn’t any mistake about where she wanted this to go.

  His only question was when? She’d won the bet. She was commanding him for the rest of the day. He was close to taking the decision out of her hands.

  “Think you could face me?”

  She made no effort to move from where she sat on his thighs, so he didn’t hesitate. He twisted, and she had enough weight on her knees that he flipped around, staying under her.

  A little more oil on her palms, and his chest was covered...and on fire.

  The thought of ripping her skimpy clothes from her body and rubbing their bare skin across each other entered his mind more than once. More like every other heartbeat. His hands gripped her hips, trying to maintain his sanity as she rocked across his manhood.

  “Look at me,” she whispered.

  He forced his eyes open when she stopped massaging his chest. She took a lone fingernail and parted his chest hair from his neck to his navel. He thought he might bruise her. His grip was tight on her slender hips as she unbuckled his belt and reversed his jeans zipper. He bit his lip to stop from shouting.