Santa Assignment

by Delores Fossen

  Brayden took aim, not at the car, but at the narrow space below it and returned fire.

  And then all hell broke loose.

  Brayden had only a split second to react. Firing wildly, not with one weapon but two, Hyatt rushed around the back of the car. Headed right toward Ashley.

  She must have heard him coming because she went into a defensive posture, bringing up the rocks. But Brayden knew those rocks wouldn't protect her if Hyatt fired at her.

  He had to stop Hyatt from doing that.

  Brayden came out of cover. Just as Hyatt launched himself away from the car and dived toward the well. Ashley didn't stay down.

  Damn it.

  She came up and pelted Hyatt with one of the rocks. It knocked one of the guns from his hand, but he simply turned the other one on her.

  Brayden didn't shoot to stop Hyatt. He shot to kill. A double tap of the trigger. The bullets blasted through the air and slammed into the man who was only seconds away from shooting Ashley.

  The impact of the bullets in his chest stopped Hyatt.

  Hyatt's startled gaze rifled to Brayden, and even though he was already slumping toward the ground, he took aim at Brayden. Brayden dived to the side and, in the same motion, fired a third shot.

  Hyatt smiled an eerie, sickening smile and dropped face first to the driveway. Unfortunately, his gun stayed firmly planted in his right hand.

  "Stay put, Ashley," Brayden called out to her.

  He didn't want to take a chance that Hyatt was still alive and just waiting for an opportunity to kill them.

  Keeping low, and with his weapon still ready to fire, Brayden made his way through the thick underbrush and trees. He approached Hyatt cautiously, bracing himself in case the man turned over. When Brayden was close enough, he kicked the gun from Hyatt's hand.

  No reaction.

  So he leaned down and pressed his fingers to the man's neck.

  "He's dead," Brayden let Ashley know.

  Brayden went to her, keeping her on the far side of the well so she wouldn't have to see Hyatt's bullet-riddled body. "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

  "I'm okay. I'm okay." Her gaze landed on the blood on his coat. "But you're not."

  "It's nothing serious."

  She shook her head. "You're sure?"

  "Positive. And Hyatt won't be bothering anyone else ever again."

  Despite his attempt to stop her from seeing Hyatt, Ashley looked over his shoulder at the man lying on the ground.

  "It's really over?" she asked, her voice crumbling.

  "It's really over."

  Brayden gathered her into his arms and didn't let go.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ashley checked her watch and paced the living room in Brayden's house. Why, she didn't know. Pacing and checking the time certainly didn't help.

  Nothing had so far.

  Not the shower she'd taken.

  Or the nap, which she hadn't really taken but had told Katelyn she had.

  Or the calls she'd made so she could start arranging a real Christmas for Colton. A Christmas with a tree, bags of fake snow and those twenty gifts she'd promised him. All of which should be delivered within the next twenty-four hours.

  But none of those things had soothed her. None could. Because she didn't stand a chance of relaxing until she saw Brayden. She had to know if he was all right. The image of the blood on his jacket was still much too vivid for her not to worry.

  "Still wound up a little?" Katelyn asked in between bites of a sandwich. Not a real question but obviously a rhetorical, semisarcastic one. Katelyn added a wink to it.

  Another check of Ashley's watch. "You know, I really appreciate you staying here with me until Brayden gets back, but it's not necessary. I'm sure you'd rather be spending this time with your husband."

  Katelyn nodded. "I'd rather be with Joe. I admit it. But you're wrong about it not being necessary for me to be here. It is. Because we both know you really shouldn't be alone right now."

  That was partly true. All right, it was completely true. Ashley didn't want to be alone. Because it'd only been ten hours since Brayden had shot and killed Hyatt. Ten short, grueling hours. The memories were still much too fresh.

  "Why don't you sit down and have another cup of chamomile tea?" Katelyn asked.

  "Because the first three cups didn't help." Ashley made an agitated sound when another jolt of nervous energy knifed through her. "You'd think I'd be exhausted by now. What with the reports at headquarters and the adrenaline crash and burn."

  "You haven't crashed and burned yet. That'll happen later tonight."

  "Great. Something to look forward to." More pacing. Another check of her watch. "What's taking Brayden so long?"

  "Reams of paperwork. Interviews, reinterviews. You name it. There are checks and double checks when something like this happens."

  Because he'd killed someone. In the line of duty, of course. But that didn't absolve him of having to explain why he'd used deadly force. Her own interview had likely been easy compared to his.

  "Certainly the captain or someone would have forced Brayden to get medical attention?" Ashley mumbled.

  Katelyn shrugged. "Probably."

  But she didn't say it with enough conviction. Which meant he might not have seen a doctor yet. Well, she would remedy that as soon possible.

  As soon as possible came soon.

  Ashley heard the garage open, and she went sprinting down the hall toward the door. Katelyn did some sprinting of her own. And for the first time in two and a half years, the racing and hurrying didn't have to do with the fear that she'd be facing a stalker. Thanks to Brayden, she wouldn't have to worry about that again.

  Ashley and Brayden opened the door at the same time. Their gazes met, and she saw the stark weariness in his eyes.

  It was a challenge to stop herself from grabbing hold of him. If she did, she might not let go. She might hang on to the security that only his arms could give her. And Brayden didn't look as if he should be on the giving end of such comfort. So, Ashley stayed back and settled for gently touching his arm with her fingertips.

  "How'd it go at headquarters?" Katelyn asked.

  Thankfully, she asked it. Because Ashley's throat clamped shut so that she couldn't ask anything. It was good to see him. So good to have him close again.

  Mercy, her heart was racing.

  "Everything went as expected," Brayden answered. "Well, almost. Trevor Chapman's attorney will probably file harassment charges against me."

  Ashley groaned. "That little weasel. I'll talk to him. I'll get him to change his mind."

  "No. You won't," Brayden insisted. "I don't want you anywhere near Trevor. We're looking into filing charges against him as an accessory to your kidnapping."

  Then, Trevor was a battle she'd save for another time, but Ashley didn't intend to let him come after Brayden with these legal threats. Especially since any potential harassment would have no doubt been done so Brayden could find her.

  Besides, she had other battles to fight right now, and the most obvious one was the injury that had caused the bloodstain on his clothes. "How's your shoulder?"

  "Fine. How about you? Are you okay?"

  She nodded. And it wasn't exactly a lie, either. Now, that Brayden was there, she felt as close to being okay as she had in years.

  "I took Ashley to the doctor," Katelyn volunteered. "Clean bill of health. The doc said the stun gun wouldn't have caused any damage."

  The worry lines on his forehead relaxed a little. Until he glanced down at his coat. Specifically at the dried patch of blood. "I need to grab a shower, change my clothes, and then I can drop by Mom and Dad's and get Colton."

  "I have a better idea." Katelyn took out her phone. "Let Colton stay put for the night. They're decorating the tree anyway. And that means you can get some rest. I'll pick him up in the morning and bring him home."

  Ashley expected Brayden to argue, to insist that he see Colton tonight, but instead he gave a
tired nod and kissed his sister on the cheek. "Thanks." He turned his gaze to Ashley. "You'll be here when I get out of the shower?"

  "Sure." And Ashley watched him disappear into his bathroom. Moments later, she heard him turn on the water. "You think he'll be all right?" she asked Katelyn.

  "It might take a day or two. My guess is he feels guilty for letting Hyatt get to you."

  Ashley's mouth dropped open. "That's ridiculous. Brayden couldn't have prevented that."

  "Really?" Katelyn stretched out the syllables. "So, you don't feel guilty for letting Hyatt get to Brayden?"

  Of course she did.

  And Katelyn knew that.

  That's why she gave Ashley a friendly little smirk and an equally friendly pat on the stomach. "Take good care of my niece. And it will be a girl because the O'Malleys are already under a thick cloud of testosterone. We need another female to balance things out."

  Ashley smiled, which was no doubt what Katelyn had intended. "I'll see what I can do."

  "Okay, let me make a few calls, and then I'm out of here," Katelyn said, grabbing her purse. "Do me a favor, though, and give Brayden a hug. I'm guessing he really needs that right about now."

  Ashley nodded. And more than a hug, he probably needed someone to check that wound. Among other things. She was more than willing to do whatever it took to make sure he was all right.

  "Don't worry about anything," Katelyn assured her. "I'll let myself out."

  It was the green light Ashley was waiting for. She headed for his bedroom. She knocked first, just once and not very hard. When he didn't immediately answer, Ashley let herself in and made her way through the still-open door of the bathroom.

  Brayden was definitely in the shower.

  Naked, of course.

  Not that she'd expected to find him dressed, but it was still a shock to see him in the buff. A first for her. Ironic, since she was carrying his child.

  The garden-style shower was in the center of the room. Not some muted patterned glass enclosing it. Clear. Crystal clear. Well, with the exception of the condensation that was already clinging to the sides. Still, it wasn't misty enough to obstruct her view.

  And what a view.

  Leaning slightly forward, he had his palms pressed to the glass. His head, down. The steamy spray pounded his back and neck. Water sheeted down every lean, hard inch of him.

  He was everything she had imagined he'd be, and more.

  Without taking her gaze away from him, Ashley peeled off her sweater. Her movement must have caught his eye because he looked up. He seemed surprised, but he didn't move. He stood there, staring at her through the drenched glass.

  Modesty should have been an issue since she was essentially doing a strip show, but those few modesty-related insecurities faded by the time she made it to her bra and panties. She slipped those off, too, opened the shower door and stepped into the mist with him.

  "If you're trying to distract me," he greeted, "it worked. I'm distracted."

  Ashley brushed her mouth over his. "You're so easy."

  "Sometimes. With you, anyway."

  Even though he'd meant it to be humorous, that touched her. But then, she'd known all along that this, whatever this was between them, was special. It wasn't just about a baby. Nor was it just about Colton. This was also about what they felt for each other.

  He smiled at her. And mercy, this one brought out the big guns. Dimples. They were too wholesome to belong on that rugged face, and yet they fit. Wholesome and dangerous. A bad combination for firing her libido. Of course, everything about Brayden fired her libido.

  She reached behind her and switched the hard jets of water to a gentle spray so she could take a good long look at his body. In addition to the nick above his eyebrow, which he'd probably gotten from the thick underbrush in the woods, there was that angry gash on the top on his right shoulder.

  No underbrush scrape.

  The gash had been caused by Hyatt's bullet. A thought so vile that she had to push it aside. She didn't want Hyatt to be a part of this. He was gone. Dead. And he was out of her life forever.

  Sliding her hand onto his stomach and brushing her hip against his, she walked behind him.

  He was just as interesting from the back as he was from the front.

  Well, almost.

  The front did have one distinct advantage.

  "This gash needs a stitch or two." She lightly touched his shoulder and frowned. "You really should see a doctor."

  She slid her fingers and gaze lower. To the quarter-inch scrape on his lower back. And lower. Not because there were any nicks or cuts. But because she was human and couldn't resist putting her hands on him.

  He made a low, husky sound of approval. Then he turned and captured her in his solid arms. He didn't stop there. Brayden pressed her against the slick glass.

  "This won't get you off the hook," she advised him. He skimmed his hand over her breast. Just enough to make her nipples tighten. "But that might."

  The corner of his mouth lifted. Ashley was relieved to see that smile, to feel his touch, but she didn't let it completely distract her. "Promise me you'll see a doctor."

  He lowered his head and pinched her right nipple with his teeth. Not hard. Just the right amount of pressure. "Is that all you think about?"

  It took a moment to find her breath. It had stalled in her throat. "Not all."

  "Tell you what—I'll get down on my knees and give you a kiss that'll make you forget all about doctors and stitches." He slid his hand around the back of her neck. "Heck, it'll make me forget about them, too."

  Ashley lost the breath she'd fought so hard to find. And once she could speak, she made him an offer that she wasn't about to let him refuse. "Brayden, let me make you forget."

  He released the nipple he'd just taken into his mouth and lifted his head.

  Their eyes met.

  Ashley moved to the side and reversed their positions. Their bodies were slippery and wet so he slid right into place, with his back against the glass.

  She started with his mouth. Kissing him. His mouth wasn't hard. But it wasn't exactly soft, either. The word that came to mind was generous. He moved into the kiss slowly. Easing his lips over hers. Touching. And giving.

  Definitely giving.

  He kept the contact gentle. At first. He gave her bottom lip a nip. Teasing her. Arousing her.

  And when he chose to deepen the kiss, he deepened the embrace, as well. Pulling her to him. Tightening his grip on the back of her neck. Sliding his fingers deep into her hair. Encircling her in his arm.

  Mercy, those arms.

  She'd been right about those. All strength. All power. And she was wrapped in them.

  He continued to kiss her with that clever mouth. He tempted her, adjusting the pressure, moving, drawing out the pleasure until he eased apart her lips. He tasted. Simply tasted. No rough plunge with his tongue. But he took. That mouth definitely took. Leaving her breathless and wanting more.

  Brayden gave her more.

  He leaned her back, slightly, cradling her head in his hand. Readjusting their bodies until they pressed against each other. Her breasts against his hard muscled chest. Their bare legs fitted so that his left knee was between hers.

  Intimate, definitely. Since they were naked.

  But not nearly as intimate as what he was doing with his mouth. The taste of him filled her and whispered through her. It reminded her that there were so many things she wanted to do to him.

  When he tried to adjust his grip, to align their bodies, she pinned his hands to the shower wall and continued with the kisses. But she didn't confine them to his mouth. She kissed his neck. His chest.

  A source of many recent fantasies.

  The taste of him, his scent, the way he felt beneath her lips and against her tongue, fulfilled those fantasies and a few more.

  "You're playing with fire," he let her know.

  "Among other things."

  He chuckled. Half amusement, half
torture. And he groaned and laced his fingers with hers.

  The muscles of his stomach quivered against her mouth, and she took a moment to kiss him and pleasure him. And pleasure herself. It worked. The heat from the steam and the fire in her blood rushed through her.

  Suddenly, she wanted more.

  A lot more.

  Ashley released the grip she had on his hands and sank lower. Catching his hips, she slid a line of kisses from his navel to the top of his right thigh. Muscles jolted there, too. And they didn't relax when she moved those kisses to the left, toward the center, and lower.

  As he'd suggested, she went down on her knees. Well, one knee anyway.

  "You wouldn't," she heard him say.

  "I would."

  And she did.

  There was no need to moisten her lips. The water sheeting down them was all she needed. Ashley kissed the tip of his erection, slowly, thoroughly. Then she took him into her mouth.

  Brayden could do little more than just hold on.

  And even that was a challenge.

  He slid his fingers into her wet hair. Not to bring Ashley closer. That wasn't possible. Nor to help her maneuver, either—she was doing just fine all by herself, thank you very much. No, he held on to her as an anchor, because it sure felt as if he were about to slip off the edge of the world.

  Ashley didn't hurry while she made love to him with her mouth. She, well, dallied with her tongue, her lips. Even her hot breath. And it surprised Brayden that a word like dallied was even in his vocabulary. But then, she was teaching him a few things. About restraint. About torture.

  About how amazing she was.

  Just when he thought he could take no more and just when he thought more was exactly what he wanted, Ashley slid back up his body. And touched and rubbed every inch of him in the process.

  She found his mouth and kissed him, hard. She didn't stop there. Oh, no. She seemed to be on some kind of healing quest that just might kill him.

  Or save him.

  Catching his shoulders, she pulled him down with her. And down. Until they were both on the warm shower floor with the steamy water spewing over and around them. He turned to put her against the glass, but again she outmaneuvered him.