by Casey Hagen
“Okay, leave the bug in place. We don’t want to tip our hand. Don’t talk about the case unless you absolutely have to. Act like a couple and whoever’s listening will think she’s having an affair. Maybe it’ll give them confidence to make a move. So, what’s on the agenda for you guys over the next two days?” Dylan asked.
“Nebraska wants to go to the movie opening.”
“No,” Dylan said, his voice deadpan.
“I told her that.”
“Good. Next?”
“She wants to go to the movie opening,” Slyder repeated.
Dylan sighed. “Slyder, it’s a horrible idea.”
“I thought so, too. She did say she has a disguise.”
“If she’s going in disguise, what’s the point in going?”
“She wants to see the crowd’s reaction to her work. It’s important to her. We can slip in after the credits and leave before the crowd,” Slyder said.
“I’m trusting you, Slyder.”
“I’ve got this, Dylan. I won’t let you down.”
“Okay, so what else?”
“Dinner with her brother and mother.”
“Okay, now, that can be helpful. We’ve found out that Monique has one hell of an insurance policy on Nebraska. It’s not new, so nothing suspect there. Plus, from what we can tell, whoever is threatening her isn’t actually trying to kill her, just control her. Someone wants to keep her in line.”
“Or they’re making it look like that’s what they want,” Slyder said.
“Or that. Jacy has asked Nebraska for money to pay off his debts a few times, and she told him she’d only do it if he’d go into long-term rehab to handle his addictions. She’d foot the bill for that, too, but he balked.”
“Not surprising.” But what a slap in the face to Nebraska, who busted her ass on sets, getting hurt, getting harassed, working herself to the bone, earning enough money to help him, but he wasn’t willing to do what needed to be done to get out of the position permanently. “What about the father?”
“So far, he’s on the up and up. He’s been supportive of Nebraska speaking out at Standing Rock and, if anything, her dedication to the cause gave him an edge when he was going for the Bureau of Indian Affairs job. I can’t see it being him.”
“Okay. So I’ll check out the mother and brother here and try to keep her out of trouble at the movies.”
“Yeah, and no more tripping and landing your tongue in her mouth, either,” Dylan added.
It wasn’t the tongue he should be worried about. As near as Slyder could tell, he and Nebraska were on an express train speeding straight toward her bed. “I’ll do my best,” Slyder said.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” Dylan said before hanging up.
Chapter 5
Nebraska peeled off her jogging clothes and pulled on a pair of faded blue jeans, pairing it with a Metallica T-shirt. She went for a grunge look; she could be anyone off the street going to see a movie. No biggie.
Only the butterflies that set up shop in her belly told her that it was a huge deal. She’d been in eight movies. The last three, huge releases.
And every movie, she still held her breath and prayed that this wasn’t the one where the world found out that she was a talentless hack. She was her own worst critic, which was exactly why she needed to see the real reactions of people watching it for the first time.
If their faces lit up, if they clenched the arms of their seats, if they stared, mesmerized at the screen, and if they sat in their seats doing the pee-pee dance rather than get up and go to the bathroom after sucking down thirty-two-ounce sodas, then she knew she had done her job and done it well.
She headed for the bathroom, where she pulled out a pair of brown contacts to conceal her all-too-familiar eyes. Something about the golden shade blended with her native looks and dark complexion made her instantly recognizable, no matter how she concealed her hair or changed up her clothes. The brown contacts took away any exotic look her face had, and since she had started wearing them not a single person had recognized her.
Staring at herself in the mirror, she wondered what Slyder would think. He remarked on her eyes all the time. Not that what he thought about her should matter, but she liked him, and despite giving him a hard time she respected the efforts he went to just to keep her safe.
So why do you keep making it harder for him?
Because she hated being controlled. How many times had she seen actors and actresses lose free will over their own lives? It happened to almost everyone she knew. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want to have to check with a team of managers to see if it was okay if she took a trip to Aspen to ski, to participate in activism, no matter the cause, or for something as simple as going a mall and shopping at an American Eagle.
Her mother had a team of people who told her where to eat, where to shop, what the proper weight range for her height was. It was disgusting. She thought when her brother took over some of her mom’s management duties that it would stop, but it hadn’t. She weighed in three times a week and kept her five-foot-nine-inch frame between 131 and 134.
Nebraska needed a manager, but she absolutely would not hand her life over to a team of vultures keeping her in what they saw as perfect shape, so they could capitalize on their cut of her earnings.
If she put a few pounds on her curves and Hollywood turned away from her? They didn’t deserve her in the first place.
Slyder knocked on her door, the loud hammering making her jump.
“Be right there!” she called.
She tucked her hair up under a worn, Nike ball cap and headed for the bedroom door. Pulling it open, she found Slyder, his forearm over his head, propped against the door- jamb. Keeping his face downcast, he rubbed a hand over his mouth.
He lifted his head, his blond waves falling into his eyes as they narrowed on her. “What did you do to your eyes?”
“Contacts,” she said, smiling, and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “What do you think?”
“I don’t like it,” he said,
“Ouch.”
“It’s not—I just don’t like you having to hide yourself. Especially those eyes of yours. I’ve never seen anything like them, and it feels like you’re having to change who you are for others. I don’t like it.”
It was exactly the right thing to say, the words crawling inside her and stirring up a warmth and intimacy she had never experienced with a man. “It’s temporary…and, as you pointed out, necessary,” she said, swallowing hard.
He straightened. “Yeah, but I still don’t have to like it.” He scanned the rest of her and smiled. “I dig the T-shirt, though. So, when do we have to go?”
“Not for another hour or so. The matinee is usually safer in terms of not being seen. You hungry?”
“I could eat,” he said.
“Come on. Breakfast is on me.” She headed for the kitchen, trusting him to follow. She pulled out the makings for pancakes and grabbed sausage links from the fridge.
“You need help?” Slyder asked.
“Nope. Go ahead and take a seat. You’re going to need your strength later.”
They both froze, the implication of the statement alive between them.
He watched her, his gaze roaming over her face. “I don’t know why, but when you look at me like that it doesn’t matter that those golden eyes are hidden. I still see them.”
The sausage links in her hands slipped to the counter. She snapped them up and turned to the stove, unsure of how to respond. The normal, smart-ass remark seemed harsh and dismissive now. Without her snark, she was adrift in a sea of awkwardness.
“I embarrassed you,” Slyder said.
“Of course not,” she said, waving the sausage, only the package flew right out of her hand and hit the side of the cabinet before falling to the floor.
His deep laugh rumbled from behind her, and a fraction of a second later his arms circled her waist and he turned her to him. “Yes, I did.” He cuppe
d her chin and tilted her face up to his, exposing her to his eager eyes. “I didn’t think it was possible.” He kissed her bottom lip and pulled back, dragging his thumb over the spot he’d just kissed.
“Ye—ah, well, uh, I am human and all. I do feel things,” she said by way of defense.
“Oh, I think you do. I think you feel all the things, just like you want your audience to. You’re turning into a whole lot more than that defiant woman I first met. Not sure what I’m going to do about that, but I think I’m going to start by buying you breakfast before you kill someone with a pound of sausage,” he said.
She’d been hanging on his every word and then he hit her with the sausage remark—the sheer ridiculous contrast of the two totally killed any sexual haze and had laughter bubbling up in her throat.
“Nebraska NightRaven, actress, activist, troublemaker, sister, daughter, goes before a judge today for sentencing for the manslaughter of Slyder Ward, son, brother, Navy SEAL, who died in a freak accident after getting hit in the temple with breakfast sausage.”
She laughed harder, from her belly, her breath coming out in a wheeze and tears rolling down her cheeks. The freedom of laughter not born of nervousness so necessary, she had almost forgotten what it felt like zinging through her veins.
“I’m not sure there’s anything better than hearing your laugh,” he said, his hand curling around her neck and pulling her lips under his.
It wasn’t the urgent kiss from before, but an exploration of her mouth, one that had her knees going weak and her fingers curling around his biceps to hold herself up. God, she could go the rest of her life a happy woman if she just had him kissing her like this every day. Like she was the first, last, and only woman he intended to taste.
To claim as his.
His tongue tangled with hers even as he held her under her arms and lifted her onto the counter. He nudged her knees apart with one hand and the other sank into her hair, knocking the cap from her head, causing her hair to spill around their faces as they nibbled, sucked, and tasted one another.
She slid her fingers through his hair, tangling them in the thick waves before tugging at his scalp, reveling in the way he groaned.
His fingers slid from her hair, dragged down the side of her neck, leaving a trail of sensitized skin singing with delicious sensations that fueled her blood. When he grazed her collarbone over her T-shirt, the tingling shot to her breasts and she gasped.
He pulled his head back and glanced down at his hand.
She held her breath.
He stared at his fingers as they lay against her, no longer on her collarbone, but not quite reaching her breast which so desperately wanted his touch.
“Don’t balk on me now, Slyder. Touch me.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “This isn’t how I want to do this. Groping like teenagers. When I touch your breast, I want the warm skin in my hand. I want your nipple teasing my palm. I want my cock nestled between your legs, so I can feel you getting wetter for me.”
She took his hand and brought the palm to her lips. The roughness of skin tickled her lips as she kissed the flesh there.
His gaze burned into her as he tracked her movements.
She bit into the meaty part of his hand, and smiled when his eyes narrowed. His chest rose and fell with his deep breaths.
“Promise me this isn’t over,” she whispered, blinking up at him.
“Not over. Not by a long shot. I promise,” he said with a gentle kiss to her lips. “Come on. I need sustenance to protect you. You keep me on my toes.” He lifted her off the counter and slid her body along his.
He bent over, grabbed her cap, and dropped it onto her head. “Conceal that sexy hair, or I’m liable to get you on your hands and knees and pull it.”
He headed for the door while she struggled to catch her breath. The thought of him taking her from behind was front and center in her mind, so clear that she’d swear she felt him inside her. Imagining his hard hands pulling on her hair shot shivers along her scalp.
She wanted that, and might even be willing to give up her last breath to get a moment of passion that compared. The kind of passion that awoke something primal inside you and changed who you are at the core of your being.
The kind of passion only Slyder could awaken in her.
Chapter 6
Slyder led Nebraska out the door to his car, pretending that his cock wasn’t hard enough to jackhammer concrete. The urge to yank that shirt over her head and suck that nipple into his mouth almost took over, but he couldn’t let it. He had to prove he could still be objective, not consumed by the way she tempted him with her mind and body.
He’d proven it all right.
And now he had to suffer through the pain.
He opened the door and waited for her to slide into the passenger seat before he circled around. He thought she would insist on driving, with the way she liked to call the shots and all, but for once she kept her mouth shut and just went with it.
This might be the first and only time for that to happen, so he took it as a gift.
Rolling down the drive they slowed to wait for the gate, and waved to Willy on the way out.
Her eyes lit up when she smiled at the old man. Slyder would make a deal with the devil if he had to in order to ensure that Willy had nothing to do with any of this.
“You and Willy are close, huh?” He checked his mirrors to make sure no one popped out to follow them.
“The closest. He’s been like a father to me,” she said.
“But you have a father.”
She nodded. “Yes, who I don’t see very often.” She waved a hand in the air. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my dad. He’s been everything to me. Teaching me about my heritage, my homeland, and how to live in a world that’s not always so accepting of that. But whenever I visited my mom, Willy was always there. He watched out for me when my father wasn’t able to. You know?”
He turned at the light, relieved that they seemed to have made it off the property without incident. “So you trust him? Completely, I mean.”
She turned in her seat and stared at him, mouth hanging open. “You’re serious?”
“Don’t take it personally. I’m just asking.”
“It is personal. If I needed help and I didn’t have my father, the next person I would look for is Willy.”
“Fair enough,” Slyder said.
“He’s not part of whatever this is,” she said, a bit of that defiance creeping back into her voice.
“Got it,” he said with a nod.
She raised a brow and crossed her arms, the motion pushing her breasts up. “I mean it, Slyder. Don’t get it twisted. I would bet my life on that man.”
He glanced over at her. “I hear you.” Returning his attention to the road he asked, “Question, though…why is that? Why would you bet your life on him?”
“Because he risked his to save mine,” she said.
The hair stood up on the back of his neck. “What are you talking about?”
She watched out the window; it was as if she traveled to another time, another place. “I was swimming with his daughter, Layla. God, it was so hot that day. And we loved the pool. He checked on us every few minutes, but didn’t keep an avid eye. I mean, we were fifteen. We had taken years of swimming lessons, and we were together. I was diving under and practicing holding my breath. We were competing. My hair got sucked into the filter intake system and I couldn’t get out. He saved me.”
His hands tightened on the wheel. His heart hammered in his chest. “You almost drowned?”
“Yes. I had just sucked in my first lungful of water, when he jumped in and cut my hair off to get me out. He didn’t know how to swim, but he didn’t care. He only cared about saving my life.” She rolled her head on the headrest, her gaze landing on him. “He wouldn’t hurt me. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
Slyder had to concede, at least to himself, that the more he learned about Willy the less he fit. Whoever was doing th
is wanted something from her, something that was at risk when she put herself in the limelight for controversial causes.
And they might never find out who, unless she put herself out there like that again and stirred up some trouble. That would at least force the hand of the offender, giving them a chance to identify and hopefully catch the bastard.
He pulled into a local diner he had heard about from a friend when he’d first talked about visiting Long Beach. He’d chosen to go to San Diego instead, but ended up in Long Beach anyway. Funny how life did that.
“Hopefully you’re not afraid of some fat and calories,” he said.
“Please, do I look like I fear anything?”
“No. That’s the scary part.”
“I thumb my nose at danger. Bring on the calories.”
If only she was talking about just food. He opened the car door for her as he scanned the area around them. Being midmorning, the parking lot was relatively quiet.
They grabbed a booth in the corner, where he sat next to her in view of the door. Clean grease and the sweet scent of maple syrup filled his nostrils, reminding him of diners back home.
At their table, Nebraska took one look at the menu and spotted The Ultimate. She ordered it and he followed suit.
With coffee before them, waiting for their food, she turned to him. “So, what about your family. You said they’re farmers?”
“They were.” Don’t offer up any more than necessary. That’s all he had to do.
“They aren’t anymore?”
“The farm is gone.” Okay, asshole, all you had to do was say, “Nope.”
“What happened?”
“I didn’t step up, and when my dad got sick there was no one else to run it. It was too much for my sister. Plus, she’s a marketing executive and wouldn’t have given all that up for the family farm.”
Motherfucking verbal diarrhea. Someone get me some Imodium.
“You didn’t want it?”
“No.”
