by Wendi Darlin
He shifted back enough to search her eyes. His chest moved against her as his thumb trailed her cheek possibly searching for the tears that weren’t there. Even in the darkness she could see his eyes dart to the upper corner of the room where the air conditioner vent was and then settle on hers again.
He pressed his lips to her forehead and tightened his arms around her. “Sweet dreams,” he murmured. She relaxed against him, content in his embrace. The sleep that took her was so consuming, she didn’t hear him leave.
* * * *
The blue glare of Garrett’s computer screen illuminated the dark office. Gavin dropped his clothes on the floor beneath the desk and settled into his brother’s chair, the leather cold beneath his bare legs. He’d only bothered to put on his underwear when he left Rebecca’s cabin. The night air had been welcome on his skin. He needed to cool off in the worst way. He could have kept her up all night, falling deeper into her every time, but he needed to get hold of the reins.
He keyed into the security program, isolated the recording of the Darlin’ cabin and hit rewind. As images of the two of them jerked awkwardly across the screen, his boxer briefs tented and his ache for her came back in force. His hands already missed the soft curves of her body, the warm silkiness of her skin. He had known if he ever buried himself in her, he’d never come out. He would be lost to her. And he was lost. More and more, that sounded like a chance he wanted to take. He should know better, but none of that seemed to matter now.
He clicked play. Onscreen, her head was buried in his lap, her body stretched between his legs. He got harder, hotter. His muscles tensed. His heart pounded like a thoroughbred tearing across the prairie. His body remembered every sensation, the warmth and wetness of her mouth, the taste of her still on his lips, the way she clenched around him when she crossed the point of no return. He probably should have taken her to his room, but Garrett would have heard them. He might have heard them anyway. They had probably woken the dead.
He scrolled the recording back to where he walked through her door and lifted her in his hands, her ass filling each palm. He went back another few seconds to before he entered her cabin, slid a blank DVD into the drive and burned all of the images of the two of them onto the disc. Then he erased the last two hours of the surveillance records.
He moved his fingers over the keys preparing to shut down the computer, but paused not ready to let her go yet. He slid the disc in and played it back. His body responded with such need a groan rose from his throat as he watched the two of them together, remembering the sound of her voice, the scent of her perfume, the taste of her heated skin, everything the screen couldn’t give him but his mind could. He’d have to tell her about the DVD at some point. Maybe she’d want to watch it with him. But not yet. Not until this week was over. It wouldn’t do any good for her to worry that her private time was being recorded. Nobody else would ever see the video anyway.
Onscreen, she was spread beneath him, her eyes hooded, her hands locked in his hair. He licked his lips searching for another taste of her, wishing he could go back and make love to her until he was too spent to move a muscle. A reflection on the corner of the screen turned him to the window. Outside, Rebecca held her robe tight around her, and fury was drawing her face. She glared at him through the glass. He jostled the window, fumbled the latch and jerked it up. The cold air stung his skin, stealing the heat the video had poured into him.
“Honey, wait!” His voice was as loud as he dared, but she stormed toward her cabin without looking back. Shit! He shut the video down, ejected the disc and ran out of the house after her. The cold air took his erection down to a manageable level, but he wished like hell he’d had enough sense to put his pants on.
She had barricaded herself inside by the time he got there and pounded his fist against the door.
“Don’t you dare come in here!”
“Let me explain.” His words blew out on a breath of fog in the cold night air.
“You taped us, without telling me. I don’t need an explanation. I saw it!” The volume of her voice rose with every word. “Are you going to sell it on the internet or keep it for your personal collection?”
“The only copy is right here in my hand. You can have it,” he said. “Please open the door.” He was freezing his ass off and if he didn’t calm her down the whole damn place was going to be awake.
“How could you do that?” She wasn’t any calmer or quieter.
“We have to, for security. I won’t come in, but please open the door, so I don’t have to shout.”
The door crept open an inch. “Every cabin is taped round the clock,” he said, grasping the opportunity to explain with his voice lower.
“And you sit in your office at night getting off on women without them knowing it?” Her eyes glared at him, acid shot off her words.
“We don’t watch the video. We just have to keep it to cover our asses.”
“I just saw you watching it.”
She was still pissed, but at least she was willing to hear him out.
“I had to erase it,” he explained. “What we did was enough to get me arrested and shut the ranch down. This is Wyoming, not Nevada.”
She opened the door another couple of inches and eyed the disc in his hand.
“I made a copy,” he admitted. “But it was for us. Both of us.”
“Are you lying to me?” Her shoulders relaxed a little, but he could tell he still had a lot to prove.
He handed her the disc. “If I am, you have everything you need to put me in jail and sue the pants off of me.”
“You trust me that much?” She turned the disc over in her hand and narrowed her dark eyes at him again. At least the fire in them had softened and her voice didn’t hold the same bitterness.
“Yeah, I trust you,” he said, stunned by the truth of those words. Did he really trust a woman enough to put his future in her hands again? Holy hell. “Do you trust me?”
She dropped the disc to her side and bit her bottom lip, opening the door wider. “Come in.”
“I can’t. Unless I want to be up all night erasing surveillance video.”
She glanced down at his underwear, stepped outside and closed the door behind her. “Any cameras out here?”
He shook his head and ran his hand through her hair, still tousled from their love making. His groin tightened. He loved that he was responsible for the state of her hair. They were responsible for it. Together. If he had his way, she would get in a habit of waking up with that very look about her. He wanted all of her in a way that clouded his head, made him not give a damn that he’d just handed a woman he’d known for five days enough evidence to completely destroy his life and his brother’s.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“That I can’t get enough of you,” he said, reaching for her waist.
She untied her robe and opened it for him. He slipped his arms around her and let the fabric cover his arms. Her breasts molded around his chest. The scent of her swam up his nose, made him want to drink her in, hold her all night and keep her in bed all day tomorrow and the day after that.
He lifted her against the cabin, settled her legs around his waist and moved his hips along hers, the thin cotton knit of his underwear the only barrier between his hardness and her slick heat. He was careful not to press her into the rough logs of the cabin, but every instinct he had screamed for him to push harder, to give this woman everything he had to give. To stay inside her until she understood that’s where he belonged.
“Come to the house with me,” he whispered. “Let me make love to you again. I’ve never needed anything more in my life.”
“Any cameras up there?” Her lips curved in the slightest smile letting him know the video didn’t bother her. Only that she hadn’t known it was being made.
“Not unless you want me to set one up.” He nibbled her ear. “You’re very photogenic.” Her skin heated him. He buried his face in her neck. She gasped, driving him
harder. Rebecca was like a drug, the more he had, the more he wanted.
“Won’t the cabin camera record that I’m not here?” she asked, tilting her head higher giving him more access.
“It’s going to show that I tampered with the recording too,” he said, his lips gliding along her smooth skin. “But as long as the records are never subpoenaed we’ll be okay.”
“Can’t you just disconnect the camera? Make it look like a malfunction?”
She was thinking too hard, a sure sign he could stand to step up his game. He retraced his trail along her neck, listening for a sign that he hadn’t taken her too far off track. She gasped again, giving him all the affirmation he needed. “That would take a little time,” he said. “And I want you now.”
Headlights bounced off the porch post next to them. The car making its way down the drive was plain government issue, blowing its cover from even this distance. Fuck. Another impromptu visit by Canyon Creek’s finest. The light in the office was on. “Garrett. Shit.”
“Looks like you’d better go,” she said.
He squeezed her hips and kissed her quickly before setting her feet on the floor.
“Gavin,” she whispered loudly, pausing his rapid retreat. “Call me when they leave.”
* * * *
Marge trembled as she watched the scene unfold outside her window. Her hand clasped involuntarily at her heart, and warmth spread between her legs. The look on Rebecca’s face as she watched Gavin leave could have melted an iceberg.
Marge stared down at the screen of her cell phone. “Is he there?” the text from Chet read. She glanced back at the empty room behind her. An empty bottle of wine sat on the coffee table next to the tablet of self-improvements she and Clayton had been drafting. A soft flush came from the bathroom and guilt tugged at her. No one had ever judged her less or made her feel more deserving, and now he was going to go to jail for trusting her, for teaching her to trust herself.
Her phone beeped again. The same text was repeated across the screen. Her fingers stumbled across the keys. She wasn’t used to this texting business, and the words glowing up from the dark screen seemed accusing. Is he there?
“Y-e-s,” she sent back. Regret tagged each letter. He was there because she begged him to stay. Because they’d shared a bottle of wine and more secrets than she’d ever told anyone before. Her ears hummed and her hands shook. Why should she let Chet use her to throw an innocent man behind bars?
Because Chet was family, the only family she had left. The only person in the world who would see to her needs when she was too old to look after herself. Because he was her sister’s child, God rest her soul. And because Chet would be furious if she couldn’t do what he had instructed.
Clayton lifted the tablet off the coffee table and his hat off the back of a chair. “Tomorrow, we’ll continue.”
“Let’s work on it some more tonight.” Her hands trembled as he shook his head.
“Can’t do. It’s way past pumpkin time.”
The door shut behind him, and she peered through the window at Rebecca’s cabin. Chet wasn’t going to let her get away with delivering nothing. She’d have to appease him one way or another. He was more interested in Rebecca anyway.
* * * *
Two familiar uniformed officers stood next to the desk while Garrett guarded his computer.
“What now?” Gavin asked from the door without hiding the irritation in his voice. He’d pulled on the jeans that were still in the middle of his bedroom floor, but hadn’t bothered with a shirt. Garrett shot him a look that didn’t need interpretation. They’d have plenty to discuss later.
“Just thought we’d drop in and make sure all your lovely guests were safe and sound.” Officer Chet Bening smirked at Gavin, the same cocky expression he’d been sporting since elementary school. Whatever had originally stirred the animosity between them was long forgotten. But for as long as the men had known one another, Chet had always had something to prove and never seemed to get around to proving it. Probably had a little dick and a response time that was too quick to satisfy anybody but his right hand. Served the asshole right.
“Our guests are always safe,” Garrett responded.
“Tell us what you need, so we can get back to bed,” Gavin demanded.
“Why don’t you let us take a little look-see at those surveillance monitors,” Chet’s partner said, bowing his chest out just enough to look as stupid as he sounded.
“Settle down, Barney,” Gavin snapped. “You got a search warrant?”
“We can get one if we need to, then we can go in and search every cabin. Talk to every guest here.”
It wouldn’t take much to knock the smug grin off Chet’s face, but that would give him every excuse he’d ever need to make their lives hell. He was obviously still pissed he hadn’t gotten the previous false accusation to stick. Now he’d have a case. If he ever found proof. Not that he would find any. And what had happened with Rebecca wasn’t what it would look like to outside eyes.
“We don’t have anything to hide,” Garrett said. “But it’s an invasion of privacy to let you spy on our guests. That’s not what the cameras are for.”
“We ain’t spying,” Chet drawled. “We just want to make sure they’re all tucked in by themselves.”
“Fuck this,” Gavin said. “Get a damn warrant if you can. You don’t have any grounds to base this bullshit harassment on.”
“We’ve got plenty of grounds.” Chet sneered. “One of your guests has passed on enough information to warrant a full investigation. Seein’s how we’ve barely closed the files on the last one, a search warrant won’t be much of a problem.”
Garrett scratched the back of his head. “We don’t have anything to hide,” he repeated. “I’ll let you view the monitors, but only long enough to verify that none of our men are in any of the guest cabins.”
Gavin stewed, but it was better to let Garrett handle these dipshits. He didn’t have the patience. Especially tonight. Garrett keyed up the surveillance software and shifted his computer monitor over enough to give the officers a better view. Gavin leaned over the desk, ready to protect Rebecca from any leering eyes. Twelve gray boxes filled the screen.
“Make them bigger, so we can see what we’re looking at,” Chet said.
Garrett clicked the mouse and brought a single room onto the screen. The guest was sound asleep, sprawled beneath the covers and obviously alone. He clicked quickly to the next room and brought up a similar image. He continued through the next eight cabins with similar images in each. Then, something different. Everyone leaned closer.
One of the guests, the one who had arrived at the ranch with Rebecca, dropped a wine bottle in the trash and then pulled back her bedding before climbing in. Alone. Chet muttered a curse that would have filled Gavin with satisfaction if Rebecca’s cabin wasn’t the only one left. She wasn’t asleep, and there was no telling what she was doing. Gavin knew her well enough to know there was a good chance she wasn’t dressed. If he’d been a cartoon, steam would’ve shot out his ears and a train whistle would have sounded. He didn’t so much as blink. His muscles were coiled, ready to spring himself across the desk and shove that monitor out of sight if he had to. These ass clowns weren’t about to gawk at her.
The inside of the Darlin’ cabin filled the screen. Rebecca was pacing the floor. The shadowy shape of the disc he’d given her showed dark against the light robe she wore. She held a phone to her ear. Who in the hell was she talking to at 3:00 a.m.? It was barely daylight in South Carolina, too early to be on the phone with anybody. Her lips moved. She was talking alright. She held the disc up and turned it in her hand. Her lips kept moving. Who was she telling? Gavin’s chest gelled. What the fuck had he done?
Garrett clicked the mouse again and the screen went dark. “Satisfied, gentlemen?” he asked.
Chet’s partner hid his chagrin behind a cocky smirk and chicken chest, but Chet’s hands fisted in frustration. His knuckles were white, and anger
lurked in his eyes. “You boys got lucky tonight,” Chet said. “Better get some sleep. You’ve got another rough day of work ahead of you tomorrow.”
Gavin followed them through the house and waited on the porch to make sure they got in their car and left without poking around anywhere they weren’t supposed to.
Gavin stormed back into the office. “Lock the fucking gates, and don’t open them for those assholes again unless they’ve got a search warrant.”
Garrett stared hard at him. “Where were you when they got here?”
“I was talking to Rebecca.” It wasn’t completely a lie, but Garrett wasn’t buying it.
“In her cabin?”
“On the porch of her cabin.” Gavin felt the heat in his neck, and he didn’t know who he was madder at the local donut-holes or himself.
“Who do you think she was on the phone with?” Garrett asked.
Gavin shrugged. “How the hell should I know? Probably her sister.” He dropped into his chair and threw his feet up on his desk.
“You think her sister’s concerned enough to call the police?”
“I don’t know why she would be.”
Chet and his lackey wouldn’t have gotten there that fast unless Rebecca had talked to her sister before she caught him with the video. She could’ve done that. He had no idea how long she had been awake before she came to the office window. He knew he screwed up when he handed her the damn disc. He should’ve listened to his gut instead of his dick. He could go over there and snatch it back, but that wouldn’t do anything but piss her off. He couldn’t afford to piss her off now. What a fucking dumb ass. Pussy whipped dumb ass. He deserved to be in jail. Or shot.
“Anything you need to tell me?” Garrett asked.
Gavin shook his head. Sweat trickled from his armpits and nausea churned his stomach. Lying to Garrett was bad enough, throwing away everything they had worked for was just too stupid to believe.
