Collide (Talon Security Series Book 3)

by Megan O'Brien

  Finally, we swam for shore and heaved ourselves onto the grass, lying side by side on our backs. The dogs lazed nearby, licking their wet fur.

  “You gonna tell me why you left?” he asked quietly as we both stared at the sky.

  “Do I have to?” I sighed, knowing the answer.

  “You don’t have to, no. But after a year of wondering, I’d really like to know.”

  I looked over at him. “You could have just looked it up,” I replied, surprised he hadn’t. With his resources, he could track just about any information down.

  “I could have. Was tempted to many times. Almost as much as I was tempted to come haul your ass back to LA. I’ve known where you were all along. But I wanted to give you space, and as for your reasons, I want to hear them from you.”

  The fact he was giving me that power where I normally felt so powerless had me considering sharing everything with him. If I only knew where in the hell to start.

  As though sensing my internal turmoil, he sat up, arms braced on his knees as he looked down at me. “Tell you what. Why don’t we save that for another day? I don’t want to push too hard, and to be honest I’m fucking starving.” He grinned, and I knew he was deliberately lightening the mood.

  I looked up at him curiously. “You’re being a hell of a lot nicer to me than you used to be,” I accused.

  His expression grew serious. “I was always nice to you, Sarah,” he argued with a shake of his head. “I don’t think you were ready to see that then. Plus, giving you shit is just part of my charm.” He winked.

  “Sure it is,” I muttered with a laugh, accepting his hand for him to pull me up. I tried not to be distracted by the play of muscle across his shoulders and back as he slipped his shirt back on.

  He caught me staring, and rather than tease me as I expected, his gaze heated, the awareness crackling between us. My entire body zinged with energy as I realized with a jolt that I desperately wanted him to kiss me.

  I’d always been attracted to him; even in my most stubborn state I could never ignore that. But this feeling of mind-numbing lust was new.

  And not entirely unwelcome.

  He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact. “We should get back.”

  I nodded, equal parts grateful he’d broken the moment and disappointed. “You don’t have to come to dinner you know,” I offered as we began our journey back. “My parents are famous for their third degree. It’s a two-pronged approach,” I warned him seriously. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”

  He chuckled. “Two-pronged, huh? I think I can handle it,” he assured me. “A home-cooked meal doesn’t sound half bad either.”

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I shrugged.

  Our clothes were dry by the time we reached the house, thanks to the heat. My mom stepped out onto the porch, wiping her hands on her apron as we walked up.

  “Theo, June Scott.” She smiled, taking his hand.

  My mother was in hog heaven; there was nothing she loved more than cooking for other people.

  “Ma’am, a pleasure.” Theo nodded, and I was once again impressed with his manners. I’d never seen that side of him.

  “Come on in, get out of that heat,” she coaxed, shooting me a wink.

  I inwardly groaned. Nothing to make me feel like I was in high school again more than having my parents play matchmaker.

  We walked into the kitchen and sat at the bar as my mom poured us iced water and checked whatever was baking in the oven.

  “You kids wrap up the fence?” my dad’s voice called a second before he crutched himself into the room.

  Theo being referred to as a kid was humorous, but that was how my parents referred to anyone under forty.

  “Yes, sir,” Theo replied, accepting the glass my mom handed him.

  My dad waved a hand. “None of this sir and ma’am business. It’s Tom and June,” he told Theo with a clap on the back.

  “Old habits,” Theo explained with a nod as Owen’s squall sounded from upstairs.

  “Char’s getting him dressed,” my mom said.

  “My nephew,” I added.

  “How old is he?” Theo asked. He looked so comfortable sitting in my parents’ kitchen, as though he’d done it a thousand times before.

  “Two,” I answered. “Can I help?” I asked my mom.

  “You could set the table. Thank you, honey.” She gave me the warm smile I’d relished so much throughout my life.

  I moved to do as she asked as Theo stood beside me. “I’ll give her a hand.”

  “No, no, you’re our guest,” my mother protested.

  “Ma’am, er, I mean June,” Theo caught himself. “I’d feel awkward not helping out, if it’s all the same to you.”

  Judging by the look she gave him, he might have two Scott women to fend off.

  “How long are you in town for, Theo?” my dad asked thirty minutes later as we sat around the table digging into the meal my mom had prepared.

  Owen whined in his seat as Char, my mom, and I took turns giving him bites and trying to entertain him.

  Theo shifted in his chair, the move nearly imperceptible, but I caught it. “I’m not sure,” he answered. “It will probably be a little while longer before I head back to California.”

  The underlying meaning in his words wasn’t lost on me. Was he really here for me? Was he going to try to convince me to go back with him? Would I? The questions swirled in my mind as I tried to focus on the conversation.

  “Is that where you’re from?” my mom asked, and I knew we were venturing into third-degree territory. My parents had perfected it over the years.

  He nodded silently.

  I curled two fingers toward him like a prong and looked at him as though to say, I told you so.

  He swallowed a chuckle, hiding it by wiping his mouth with his napkin.

  I marveled not for the first time at how well we seemed to understand each other.

  “Well, our girl here might not be long for our Big Sky country,” my dad shared with a nod in my direction.

  Theo lifted a brow in my direction. “Oh yeah?”

  “This girl is figuring that out.” I huffed in exasperation.

  When I’d talked about the third degree, I hadn’t thought it was something I had to worry about.

  “Gonna burn a hole in those running shoes of yours, sweet girl.”

  “Dad,” I growled meaningfully. I was not about to have this conversation in front of Theo.

  Theo turned to me in surprise. “You’ve been running?”

  Back when I worked for Talon I wasn’t exactly active.

  “More, anyone?” my mom offered brightly, trying to cut the sudden tension.

  “So you two worked together back in Los Angeles?” Char asked lightly, trying to change the subject.

  I nodded. “For the two years I was in LA.”

  Theo turned to me. “Haven’t been able to replace you since,” he put in, shocking me. He turned to the rest of the table. “Sarah was the best receptionist we’ve ever had.”

  Was that why he was back? Because he wanted me to work for Talon again? I tried to ignore the disappointment that thought induced.

  My parents smiled. “We don’t doubt it,” my mother replied. “Sarah has always been very reliable.”

  Theo reached under the table and squeezed my thigh briefly before pulling away.

  That single leg squeeze was more exciting than any kiss, any touch I’d received from a man in my life so far.

  After dinner, I helped Char change Owen for bed while Theo talked with my parents downstairs. He seemed perfectly comfortable in their company, and in no hurry to leave after dinner.

  “He likes you,” Char whispered with wide-eyed excitement. “Did you guys have something going on back in LA? You never said anything!” she hissed.

  “No.” I shook my head. “I mean, not really. There was always something there, but mostly he just liked to irritate me.”

  “Char, the
way that man looks at you—he’s hot for you. Trust me,” she confirmed. “He just spent all day in the sweltering heat mending a fence, and his evening with your family.” Her eyes popped wide. “He came here for you, didn’t he?”

  I shrugged uncomfortably. “That’s what he said, but I’m not sure why. From what he said, maybe they just need a new receptionist.”

  She scoffed as though the idea was ridiculous.

  I looked at her doubtfully, fearful to let any hope take root in the event she was wrong.

  She reached over to squeeze my arm, offering her support before returning to buttoning up Owen’s pj’s. He lay on his back, giggling up at both of us. “Why don’t you invite him to Mickey’s tomorrow night?” she suggested. “The Steel Hearts are playing. You love them.”

  “Like ask him on a date?” I exclaimed incredulously. I’d never done anything like that in my life, and doing it for the first time with Theo was beyond terrifying.

  She rolled her eyes. “You could make it less formal than that. Live a little,” she coaxed.

  I bit my lip. “Maybe.” I sighed, before grinning down at my nephew. I knelt down, blowing a raspberry over his stomach, making him giggle.

  It was the sweetest sound.

  I wandered back downstairs, leaving Char to put Owen to bed. Theo was sipping scotch with my dad while my mom dished out the pie.

  “Well, this old man needs to put his leg up,” my dad announced, rising to stand as my mom handed him his crutches.

  “I’ll get you settled,” she offered. “There’s ice cream in the freezer, Sarah. It was so nice to meet you, Theo, you’re welcome anytime.”

  Theo rose to take her hand, and then my dad’s. “It was delicious, thank you.”

  They were leaving us alone. I wanted to be embarrassed by how obvious it was, but I was too grateful to care.

  “Night, guys.” I waved, standing behind the counter watching as they made their way from the room. I turned eyes to Theo, who was once again seated. “Pie?”

  He groaned, clutching his firm stomach. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”

  I laughed. “Tell me about it. I’ve been fending off calories since I got home. But I’m sure you can manage a small piece,” I added, cutting small pieces of pie for both of us.

  “Thanks.” He chuckled, accepting the plate I handed him.

  I moved to sit next to him, digging into my slice. “My dad broke out the good stuff for you,” I commented, tilting my head toward his glass.

  He looked at the glass thoughtfully, swirling it slightly. “They’re good people, your parents. Charlotte, too.”

  “Yeah, they are,” I agreed, turning toward him slightly, licking apple goodness off my fork.

  His eyes watched my mouth, darkening slightly.

  He cleared his throat and looked away—back to his glass. “Where’s Owen’s dad?”

  I grimaced. “Shithead bailed when Char got pregnant. We haven’t heard from him since.”

  Theo blanched before his eyes narrowed. “He doesn’t even pay child support?”

  I shook my head. “At this point I don’t think she wants anything from him. My family offers the support she needs, and the way she sees it, if he wants to miss out on being in Owen’s life, then good riddance.”

  “Good for her.” He nodded approvingly. “Though the fuck shouldn’t get out of supporting them.”

  I sensed there was more to his comment than general frustration. “You know something about that?” I hedged quietly.

  He nodded once. “My mom was a single parent. Never knew my dad.”

  “I’m sure that wasn’t easy. But it’s his loss.”

  He looked over at me, pain flashing briefly in his eyes. “Yeah.” He swallowed down the rest of his drink and wiped his mouth. His movements indicated that he was getting ready to leave. He stood, looking down at me with indecision. “I’ll get out of your hair, but I’d like to see you tomorrow—that all right?”

  “Are you here to recruit me?” I blurted before I could stop myself. “I mean, is that why you’re here? Because you guys can’t find a decent receptionist?”

  He smiled, reaching out to touch my cheek briefly with his thumb. “No, sweetheart. Like I said before, I’m here for you. Beyond that—I’m giving you the time to tell me why you left. Unless you want to do that now?” His brow quirked in question.

  “No,” I grumbled.

  “Well then, I guess we’ll leave it at that,” he replied easily. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, standing to walk him out. “Thanks for your help today.”

  “It was fun.” He shrugged.

  I wasn’t sure mending a fence in the sweltering heat could be described as fun, but I let the comment slide.

  “Where are you staying anyway?” I asked for the first time. I assumed it was near his makeshift shooting range.

  “The cabin right off the 112—it basically backs up against your property. And no, that wasn’t an accident,” he added before I could ask.

  I recovered quickly from that admission. “The old Mueller place.” I nodded in recognition. “Have they fixed it up at all?” From what I remembered, it’d been fairly run down.

  “Not really.” He chuckled. “But it suits me fine. I’m a simple guy.” He winked. “I’ll text you tomorrow,” he added as he stepped onto the porch.

  “All right,” I agreed, watching as he headed toward his rented pickup truck.

  I was still in shock that he was here at all, but I had to admit, that piece of me that had felt like it was missing… well, I didn’t feel that way anymore.

  Chapter 4

  “I’m so glad you agreed to come out tonight!” Jess chirped beside me the next night as we stood listening to the Steel Hearts twang and thump on their guitars, singing their hearts out.

  Jess and I had grown up one property down from each other and had been close friends through high school. We’d drifted apart after graduation, and this was the most time we’d spent together since.

  I’d debated coming out tonight at all and had been dodging Theo all day. I was still trying to process the intensity of the previous few days. Jess calling had been the push I needed to get up and moving.

  In need of a self-esteem boost, I’d dressed in my favorite skinny jeans, a white tank top that showed off my figure but wasn’t too dressy for Mickey’s, and my favorite pair of cowboy boots. I’d left my long brown hair down and a bit wild, only dressing my eyes with a bit of eyeliner and a swipe of mascara.

  Everyone always commented on my big brown eyes and full lips, but I rarely played either feature up.

  “Me too,” I agreed, offering her a smile as the song wound down. She pulled me toward the bar for a second round just as another song kicked in.

  Truth be told, I wanted nothing more than to listen to the music and zone out, swaying to the beat, but Jess wanted to catch up and I wouldn’t ignore that.

  “So, what are you going to do next?” she asked expectantly once our drinks had been served.

  The question of the hour apparently. Attempts to secure a job in town, and hell, likely anywhere in the state, had been rejected time and time again. After a while, the rejection and reality that my past was still very much my present had become too much. For the moment, I’d given up, focusing on helping my parents on the ranch and Char with Owen.

  “I’m not sure yet,” I admitted. “Just trying to figure out if I want to stay here or move somewhere else eventually.”

  She looked at me with nearly comical confusion. “Why would you want to live anywhere else?”

  I smiled, finding genuine endearment in her response. Hell, I felt that way myself sometimes. “I love this town. I’m just not sure I want to stay here permanently,” I admitted.

  I loved Munro with its gorgeous landscape and generous people. But it was truly small-town living. Living in Los Angeles, I’d quickly embraced the offerings of a bigger city. There was a lot to be said for it.

&n
bsp; She wrinkled her nose. “Whatever suits you, I suppose.”

  “Anyone special you’re seeing?” I asked, knowing that would get the attention off me.

  She grinned. “Yes, but it’s new and long-distance. I really like him.” She sighed blissfully. “I really want him to come for a visit and to introduce him to my family, but he’s not ready for that yet.”

  “Good for you.” I smiled genuinely. “And I’m sure he’ll come around,” I assured her.

  “Thanks! I’m gonna run to the restroom, be back,” she replied with a grin, and pushed through the crowd toward the bathrooms at the back of the bar.

  I watched her go with a sigh. I’d hoped to feel more connected to her, but the years had caused a larger delta than we could likely cross. I’d changed, I realized with certainty. Being home had made that very clear.

  “Well, little Sarah Scott,” a vaguely familiar voice rumbled from behind me.

  I turned in confusion, then needed to fight an eye roll. “Hey, Hank.”

  Hank Smith. The high school football star who’d been after me since freshman year, who I was quite sure had lost all of his brain cells being tackled on and off the field. Hank was known for starting fights with just about anyone.

  “You haven’t called,” he commented, eying me up and down with far too much intimacy.

  I fought the urge to sputter in response. “Uh, well, Hank, we’re not exactly friends. I don’t even have your phone number,” I pointed out.

  “We can change that,” he responded, his blue eyes locked steadily on me.

  Or not.

  “How are your folks?” I asked, not knowing what the hell else to say.

  “Good,” he said, his stare persistent as I turned my attention to the bar. Maybe Mick was around to rescue me. “Dance with me,” he demanded, taking my upper arm in a firm grip.

  “No thanks.” I shook my head, trying to pull back.

  “A few years away and you think you’re better than me?” His nostrils flared.

  “No,” I shot back. “I just don’t want to dance with you.” I pulled harder, intent on getting away from him.