by AJ Nuest
“The only thing that has ever mattered to me is making sure you don’t get hurt, and if you’re gonna hate me for it, then I’m not sure any more words are needed. Fight or no fight, I’m not about to change my mind. Not now and not in the future.” He parted the sheets and strode through. “Kissing you has only made everything worse.”
Chapter 9
Some days, the only thing that kept her sane was the reassuring weight of a metal grip in her palm and the repeating spring-loaded recoil of a Colt .45 semi-automatic.
Tanner snapped the clip in place and zeroed in on the black silhouette she’d pegged to the board, set at an effortless distance of seven yards away in the manor’s lower level gun range.
Too bad today wasn’t shaping up to be one of those days.
A poised squeeze of her finger and the rapid pop of the bullets bounced off the protective earmuffs she’d clamped over her ears. The building succession of each discharge vibrated the bones in her arm, and she set her jaw as a familiar ache settled into her shoulder.
Relieving the chamber of the final round, she eyed the target and raised a calculating brow at the frowny face she’d punched into the previously blank mug of her fake attacker.
Yep. She lowered the weapon to her side. She’d gone loopier than a bowl full of Cheerios, all right. But hey, at least she’d earned her crazy. And as a follow up to her performance last night, she had to admit there was a certain justice in how her every waking thought had gotten stuck in some weird orbit around the sexy, frustrating, he-somehow-knew-exactly-how-to-get-under-her-skin man she’d come to know as Ben.
A press of her finger to eject the spent clip, and she tossed it onto the pile with the other empties, grabbed a fresh cartridge from the array she’d spread along the waist-high counter and jammed it into the gun.
Hell, maybe she should’ve sent out a search party. Or better yet, slapped a picture of her brain on the side of a milk carton and called it a day. Anyone’s guess at this point, considering it had taken her over three months to even realize the damn thing was missing.
Narrowing her focus, she took aim and fired—center of the forehead, neck, shoulder and lung. As an afterthought, she emptied the last four slugs all into the same void she pierced in the gut.
For someone who’d been harping she was more than ready to take over Dirty Deeds, she’d sure done a bang-up job of missing the obvious. Assuming the way Ben treated her had anything to do with some supposed shortcomings on her part. Forgetting for even two seconds that maybe, just maybe, his behavior might be tied to his life experiences or a deep loss he’d suffered in the past.
For crying out loud, had she learned nothing during her training? Forgotten every word that had passed from Eden’s lips? If she’d purposely tried, Tanner couldn’t have done a better job of ignoring the first hard and fast rule that always, always applied.
If she wanted to figure out what made someone tick, the best and surest way to make that happen was to take a long, hard look at their history.
But she hadn’t done that with Ben. Not once, since the first day they’d met.
Instead she’d baited him, fought with him. She’d stomped around, ranting and raving when she could’ve avoided the whole stupid mess if she just would’ve stepped back for a second and asked herself why.
Why was it he consistently felt the need to protect her? Why her and no one else? Why did he always assume the worst, and why, oh why, were his concerns never up for discussion?
Turning to the side, she pressed her thumb against the relay switch to retract the board and bring the target within reach. Talk about screwing up simply by getting stuck in her own way. Compliments of the stupid chip on her shoulder and her irrational, God-I-suck competitive streak.
The target clicked to a stop, and she glanced down at her phone for what had to be the billionth time in the last half hour. A tap of the screen, and she scrolled through her messages, staring at the four words she’d texted him after crawling out of bed from a full night of counting every bump in her ugly popcorn ceiling.
We need to talk.
Out of everything he’d said to her, telling her there was nothing left to say had been the one thing he’d gotten dead wrong. Well, that and his assumption she’d included Casper in her plan.
In truth, she hadn’t told anyone her idea for infiltrating the local gun ring. Least of all the guy who, for some unknown reason, Ben believed was the evil twin brother of Saddam Hussein. No matter how many times she’d considered bringing up the subject with Casper, doing so just hadn’t seemed right. Not until she’d first figured out a way to broach the topic with Ben.
She’d already gone the route of what could happen if she excluded him, and the second he’d asked, she’d known it would be a really bad move on her part to repeat that mistake.
Heaving a sigh, she swiped her thumb over her cell to close the app and set the .45 beside the spent cartridges on the counter. Not that it mattered. Not anymore. His reaction had been exactly what she’d expected, even though she couldn’t blame him in the slightest for jumping to the wrong conclusion or being pissed off.
She knew full well what she’d done. Hell, she’d known even as she’d spent the entire night walking around on Casper’s arm, letting him hold her hand or smiling whenever he smoothed his palm down her back.
Ripping the sheet off the board, she crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the garbage with the others she’d already shredded. Yes, she’d had ulterior motives in mind at the time, and yes, she’d tried to explain those reasons from almost the first moment Ben had asked her to dance.
But she would’ve been kidding herself if she didn’t admit there was another part of her that had also been curious, and not only to hear what kinda trumped up paranoia had been floating through his head.
Throughout the ceremony, during the meal or every time she strode across the dance floor, Ben’s heated gaze hadn’t left her for a second. Regardless of where she’d gone or who she’d talked to, his simmering intensity had made her hyperaware of his presence inside the room.
And yet, instead of irritating the shit out of her like it should have, the longer it went on, the more having his eyes on her became something she craved.
A lot.
As if they shared a special secret. Or even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. God, the thrill she’d experienced at having that control over him had been both intoxicating and ridiculous at the same time.
She centered a fresh target on the board and retracted the distance to a non-challenging eight feet.
The second he’d asked her to dance, offered his hand and wrapped her in his arms, something between them had changed. Or maybe the operative word was he seemed to change.
One moment pulling the same old crap, barking orders as if she had no choice but to listen. The next telling her the way she looked had stopped his heart only so her insides could melt into a girly pile of goo.
Swear to God, the man made her nuts. And not the normal kinda nuts, either. But the kind that made her want to smack him silly at the same time he had her willing to do any small thing he asked.
Shaking her head, she snapped a loaded clip into the .45 and drew a bead directly at the center of the silhouette’s chest.
The memory of his tight hips, perfectly wedged between her thighs, streaked across her vision, and she slammed her eyes shut. Dammit.
Heat gathered low in her stomach. Her sex pulsed and clenched.
The demanding strokes of his tongue, the insatiable way he’d devoured her mouth came next, and she bit her bottom lip to suppress a moan.
God dammit, never, not once in her entire life, had she responded to a man the way she had Ben. Common sense suddenly gone on vacation. Wet and ready within seconds of his large, strong hands seizing her ribs.
So damn desperate. Eager for the chance to explore every hard inch of him. Wanting the length of his naked body pinning her against the nearest flat wall.
&
nbsp; Arousal lifted every hair on her skin, and she squeezed her lids tight over the size and heat of him as he’d plowed against her. How? How was it even possible she’d gotten so lost inside his kiss only to somehow end up being…found?
A deep shudder dislodged her stance, and she blinked, the same exhilarating aftershocks that kept her standing near the windows thrumming down her legs.
Head swimming. Her heart racing out of control. Everything he’d said to her making her see things in a whole new light. See him the way she should’ve from the very beginning.
Good God, was it any wonder it had taken her ten full minutes to collect herself? Bossy, belligerent detective or not, the man was hot damn walking in a tailored Versace suit.
A warm hand landed on her back, and she spun, elbows locked and the .45 clipping the side of Casper’s shoulder.
“Shit, girl.” He stumbled back a step, holding his hands in the air. “I really gotta remember not to sneak up on you from behind.”
She slumped, then quickly removed the clip from the gun and popped the bullet from the chamber. But the disappointment that hit her stomach was what really drove the moment home.
Attractive as he was, his face wasn’t the one she’d been hoping to accidently-on-purpose run into as soon as she’d crawled out of bed and hopped in the shower so she could ride straight for Smith Manor.
“Sorry.” She levered the earmuffs down to around her neck, glancing up at him with a smile. “My thoughts were elsewhere.”
Every time he’d gotten her alone during the reception, the guy hadn’t simply dropped hints about where he hoped the two of them were headed. He’d slam-dunked them with the force of an NBA All Star MVP.
“Yeah, I got that.” Stepping forward, he bumped his chin toward the clean target hanging down the lane. “This a bad time?”
“No, no, I just finished.” Flattering as his advances were, they’d also come off… She didn’t know. A little too heavy-handed? Too…presumptuous to seem genuine? “What’s up?”
The way he filled the gap between the partitions shrank the breathing room down to the size of a phone booth. Faboo for him and his bulging six pack abs, but the way he crowded her in made her uneasy. Implied a level of intimacy she wasn’t quite sure she was on board with yet.
She glanced toward the closed gun range door. And one that could be easily misinterpreted if someone else finally decided to make an appearance.
“Nothing, really.” He slid his palm down the arm of her gray turtle neck sweater, a gentle caress to no doubt reestablish their physical connection. But rather than settling her nerves, agitation reared its ugly head, and she had to make a conscious effort not to roll her shoulder so he would stop. “You left without saying goodbye last night.”
Yeah, right. That was fairly generous considering she’d raced out of Navy Pier quicker than Cinderella missing a shoe. Pivoting toward the counter, she busied her hands with collecting the unused clips. But after that kiss with Ben, she hadn’t been in any kinda shape to fake it. Go back to business as usual and pretend like her entire world hadn’t been rocked. And once she’d snuck back through the curtains and Charlie had told her Eden and Kelly had already left, hanging around had just seemed dumb.
Casper had been on the dance floor with Molly, anyway, and with Ben MIA Tanner couldn’t help but feel like all the energy had been sucked from the room. “Sorry, I was beat. Too much excitement, I guess.”
She turned with the cartridges cradled against her stomach and was confronted by the solid wall of Casper’s chest. A step to the left, and her pulse spiked. One step right, and she finally eased back so she could zero-in on his face.
There was no getting around him. Not unless she wanted to risk a full-frontal boob graze across the side of his arm.
“Not too much, I hope.” His lips curled in a soft smile, and he brought his hand to her cheek. “I was thinking we could get dinner later. Maybe talk a little more about the case.”
Man. She really needed to check her insurance provider for the riders on mental health coverage. No more than twelve hours ago, and she’d easily welcomed him into her personal space. Now one kiss from Ben and having Casper so close gave her the willies?
What. The. Hell.
“Um, okay. I mean if I can, that is. There’s some stuff I wanted to follow up on this afternoon and I’m not sure how long it’ll take.” Like where Ben had gone off to. Why he hadn’t returned her text. Whether she should call and leave him a voice mail or if he’d been in contact with Xander and Charlie at some point since he’d left the wedding.
“Hey.” Casper tipped her chin up, and alarm danced along her spine as he narrowed his eyes like he was trying to dissect the back-off vibe she was sending in his direction. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just…” Honest to God, what was her problem? He was acting totally on par with the way things had progressed between them thus far. Tender and sweet, attentive and caring, and for some stupid reason guilt kept jabbing at her like she was somehow betraying Ben.
“What, Tanner?” The edge of Casper’s thumb brushed her bottom lip. His bicep flexed against his t-shirt sleeve, fingers twining in her hair as he tugged her close. “Interested in someone else?”
She huffed at the idea. As if she’d ever consider getting involved with someone who purposely chose to keep her in the dark. Even if she somehow got it in her head to participate in something so useless—fat chance in hell—Ben had more than handled exactly where those efforts would lead them last night.
Insinuating they’d reached a standstill because he wasn’t about to change his mind. Kissing her as if his life depended on it, and then dropping that bomb about how doing so had only made everything worse.
Panty-melting chemistry aside, maybe he was right. The two of them would never work as a couple. They were just too different. Constantly at odds and always ready to dig in their heels and fight. And if she wanted to maintain the status quo with Casper, the better option would be to let him believe she was in the market for whatever he might have in mind. “No, that’s not it, I—”
“Good.” His breath heated her mouth as the remaining distance between them disappeared.
She tensed as his soft lips landed. Pulled back and turned her head.
Then froze as Casper’s kiss skimmed the side of her face to her cheek.
Dammit. Her eyes slipped shut as he inched back. Dammit all to hell, she’d just sent him a signal she couldn’t afford and, what’s worse, she had no one to blame but herself.
Withdrawing a step, Casper untangled his fingers from her hair. “It’s him, isn’t it? Detective Archer?”
“No.” Yes. “Maybe.” Shit. God, she was a psycho and a half. “It’s…”
“Complicated?”
Tipping her head back, Tanner blew a long, slow breath toward the ceiling. “Yes.” Like that was any big surprise. Things between her and Ben had never been easy, and at the same time, she couldn’t say she was ready to shove aside this opportunity she’d been given to find out why.
“I’m sorry, Casper. I didn’t mean to lead you on, I swear.” Lowering her chin, she met his gaze. Filled with disappointment. A flicker of irritation that made the hair along her nape stand on end. “It’s not like Ben and I are even together, I just… Need some time to think, that’s all.”
“It’s all right, Tanner. I get it.” He retreated a few more steps, and a shot of adrenaline chilled her veins as he fisted his hand near his thigh. “But it’s kinda funny, isn’t it? How Ben’s the one you need to think about and, yet, I’m the one who’s trying to help you. I’m the one who’s here.”
Anger crackled through her body, so violent it stiffened her spine and locked her knees in place with a snap. It was a valid point. A point she’d made a few times herself whenever she’d traded words with Ben. But the way Casper would choose this moment to drive the point home was not right.
He didn’t know the first thing about Ben. About why he acted the way he did.
And, dammit, neither did she.
Clenching her teeth, she resisted the urge to bring up another piece of obviousness all her own.
With his years of experience in the field, Casper should’ve known better. Whatever Ben’s problem, he had his reasons for keeping quiet. Important reasons she was gonna do whatever she could to find out.
“Maybe while you’re working through all those complications, you should take a second to consider who’s really on your side.” Crossing for the door, Casper grabbed the knob and swung it open. Tanner’s brows shot up the same distance her jaw dropped as he strode into the hallway and left. “Just don’t expect me to be waiting around for you to decide.”
* * * * *
The carpet runner muffled the heavy clomp of her biker boots as Tanner hit the second-floor landing inside Smith Manor. Subdued voices drifted into the hallway from the third bedroom door down, and she headed in that direction with a sharp left.
Thank God, it appeared Charlie and Xander were home. Relief washed her in waves, and Tanner drew a tight breath as that response did a fine job of bringing just how panicked she was into focus.
Up ahead, Xander stood framed in the doorway of the master suite, arms braced on a makeshift table constructed of three wooden sawhorses and a sheet of plywood, staring down at a set of blueprints with a yellow No. 2 pencil clenched in his teeth.
And while she was at it, double thank God she hadn’t found them in the middle of something she couldn’t easily interrupt. Stopping outside the open bedroom door, Tanner dipped a nod at Charlie and then winked at Trey, the two of them unpacking his things for his stay during Eden and Kelly’s vacation. “Hey, got a sec?”
“Sure, what’s up?” Charlie tossed a stack of folded t-shirts into the top dresser drawer and eased it closed with her hip.
Jerking her head toward Malcolm’s old bedroom, Tanner pivoted in the threshold, using what small energy she had left to resist a blind sprint for the end of the hall. The entire afternoon, her anxiety had climbed from this strange niggling in her stomach to a fixed band that squeezed her throat. The last thing she wanted was to spill her guts in front of Trey and invite the possibility of putting him in danger.
