And if life taught me anything so far, it’s not to count my chickens before they hatch. Not that I had seen many chickens in a group foster home near Newark, but still, I heard the saying many times, and still, I didn’t heed the warning. Clearly, I should have, because the expression on Rick’s rugged face can only be described as irritated, so when he opens his mouth to respond, I should have known I wasn’t getting my prayers answered—not today, not any day.
“Not so fast,” he grumbles.
“What?” I ask, knowing I shouldn’t have opened my mouth, but I did anyway.
“You’re not going back to your house.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because you’re coming home with me,” he says, and there’s a finality to his words that shuts down every rebuttal I could have conceived. “Get ready to leave.”
And then he stands up and leaves me in the bedroom to straighten my appearance before we leave his family home. If I had something worthy of throwing nearby, I might have been tempted. Instead, I let out a frustrated growl low enough he shouldn’t have been able to hear it. Of course, he does anyway, because that is my life.
“Go ahead and let that Jersey Girl temper out,” he shouts from the other room. “Nothing makes my cock harder faster than you in a temper tantrum.”
“It’s not a temper tantrum, you ass!” I shout back before I can stop myself.
“Still hard though.” He chuckles. “I’ve got a great way for you to work out all that aggression, baby.”
“Shut. Up.”
“I’m ready when you are,” he says, letting the double meaning of his words hang in the air.
“Well go on and keep waiting,” I grumble as I push up from the bed.
I quickly fold the covers back to where they were. Even as irritated with him as I am, I can’t leave Rick’s family home in shambles. I find my shoes in the process and slide my feet into them before shutting off the light and walking out the bedroom door.
Rick is waiting for me in the living room. I expected him to be smug about his ability to get under my skin, but he is nothing but the picture of patience, like some kind of ninja warrior ready to wait me out and goddammit, why can’t he ever be as off-balance as I always seem to be? It’s so unfair.
“I’m ready,” I say, sounding more than a little irritated, and I swear I see a twitch in the corner of his mouth like he wants to smile but knows he shouldn’t, because I am clearly a woman on the edge.
“Perfect. After you,” he says before holding the door open for me to pass through into the kitchen.
I follow him out onto the porch and watch as he locks up the house. When he’s finished his task, we walk out into the side yard and to the old barn where he stored the car. Rick slides the heavy panel door back, and we head inside.
He beeps the locks on his SUV, and we climb inside. I buckle my seatbelt silently as he starts the car. I can see out of my peripheral vision that he turns to me like he wants to say something, but I don’t give him my attention. Instead, I keep my gaze focused out the dark windshield. Rick seems to get the cold-shoulder message I’m sending and shakes his head before throwing the car in Reverse and backing out of the old barn.
He puts the car in Park and jumps out, running back to the door of the barn and slides it closed before locking it up tight. When he’s done, Rick runs back to the SUV and jumps in the driver seat, shutting his door behind him. He buckles his seatbelt and then we’re off into the night.
We don’t talk; in fact, I don’t utter a single word over the course of our long drive back to the city. Instead, I plot and plan. I have to get away from Rick. His presence is suffocating me slowly while I’m dying to try to find a way to save my daughter. It was my fault, my doing that put her in danger, and I’m going to get her out of it.
He hits the clicker for his garage door, and the heavy metal panels slide up, giving entrance to his fortress. He drives inside and cuts the engine before hitting the button again to lower the door, sealing us in.
Rick unbuckles his seatbelt and pushes his door open, stepping down. He doesn’t come around to open my door or offer me a hand. Instead, he stands there, patiently waiting for me to follow him inside his house while my own home sits mere feet away.
“I’m going to need things from my house,” I tell him, an idea popping into my head as a plan begins to form. “It would be so much easier for me to stay there.”
“Don’t even think about it,” he warns, his voice low and commanding, and I do not like it at all.
“Rick—” I start.
“Absolutely not.”
“You’re not the boss of me!” I stomp my foot.
“You like it when I’m bossy,” he responds, crowding me in. My back hits the wall behind me, and my skin flushes. How he always manages to make my own body betray me, I will never know. “I seem to recall you enjoying just how… bossy I can get the other night.”
“My things?” I ask and my voice sounds high pitched and thready.
“Sure,” Rick agrees with a stupid smirk on his face. “I’ll make sure to get your things.”
“Thank you.”
“After I see that you’re settled in.”
“Fine.” We could play it his way, as Rick suggested earlier. I could stay in his house, and he could fetch my belongings when he decides I can have them, but at the first available opportunity, I’m going to run again, because nothing is going to get between me and my daughter, not even an overprotective man who thinks he knows best. And one thing is certain. I’m not going to settle in, not now, not ever.
“Critics Want to Know: What Does the President Have Against New Bill?”
Chapter 18
One World Nation
The doorbell rings, surprising me.
“Who is that?”
“That would be Wes,” Rick answers me as he makes his way to the front door. Everything about his manner speaks of a casual, easygoing man, but there’s a way he reaches for the gun tucked into the back of his jeans that says otherwise. There is so much more to this man than I ever knew. It makes him dangerous. Dangerous to me, to my heart, and to my panties.
Immediately after declaring I was not going home, Rick steered me—like a border collie would his flock of sheep—up the stairs and toward his bedroom, making me on edge. I might not know Rick well, but even I was pretty sure he thought finding our daughter was more important that fucking around, literally.
“Relax,” he whispered gruffly in my ear. “If I was intending to fuck you right now, you’d know it.”
“You can stop talking any time now,” I replied as he started opening drawers and pulling an array of clothes out.
“Why?” he asked as he shucked his suit coat from his body, dropping it on a chair in the corner of his room before reaching for the knot of his tie, loosening it to pull it over his head. “This is so much fun.”
I watched with rapt attention, my mouth going dry as he neatly plucked at the row of buttons down the front of his dress shirt one by one. I should be used to seeing his strong shoulders and muscular arms by now. I shouldn’t have trouble schooling my thoughts at the sight of his chiseled abs, and yet I do. And by the knowing look on his stupidly handsome face, Rick knows it too.
He takes the gun from the back of his slacks and places it within reach on top of the tall five-drawer dresser where he was pulling clothes from. It was a stark reminder that our lives were not all fun and games right now. How he could find it in him to joke or to flirt at a time like this, I don’t think I will ever understand.
“You have to find light moments in the dark or else you’ll break, Cara,” he told me with a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid that when you finally break, it’ll be for good, and I won’t ever be able to get you back.”
“I don’t need to find light in the dark. I need to find my daughter.”
“As do I,” he warned me, his voice no longer friendly as he stripped off his slacks and yanked a worn pair of Levi’s up his legs, buttoni
ng the fly as quickly as possible. “Don’t you dare accuse me of not trying.”
“I’m not,” I said quickly as he stabbed his arms through a light gray T-shirt that fit him like a second skin and pulled it down over his head. “I don’t know what I’m doing. But… it feels wrong to joke, to flirt, to—”
“Fuck?” he filled in for me.
“Yes,” I grumble.
“In my line of work, you learn that life is short and can be taken from you in a split second,” he said, snapping his fingers.
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true, honey,” he said, stepping into me and pulling me into his arms. He brushed the hair back from my face but held my head so I had to look him in the eyes. “I’m serious, and I’m also trying to be gentle with you. But you need to learn to take life as it comes. You can’t let that darkness and the fear keep you from living, because it’s the only life you’ll ever get.”
“I’m not—” I started to say, but he silenced me with a kiss. It wasn’t passionate, and he didn’t get carried away. It was just a press of his lips against mine to stop the flow of words from my mouth.
“You are,” he said before pressing his lips to mine again then taking them away all too soon. “I lived my life without you for nine years, and honey, I’m not going to do it again. And in those nine years, I’ve not only seen so much darkness, but I lived it, I thrived in it, and I absorbed it into my soul. So now that I’ve had a taste of your sweetness and your fire and your light again, I know how much I need it like I need my next breath. So I’m going to find reasons to rile you up, and I’m going to make up excuses to kiss you, and I’m not going to need one excuse to fuck you, because I need you like I need air. But mark my words—I am going to find our daughter, and I need you to trust me to do that too.”
“Okay,” I whispered, because I didn’t know what else to say.
He let go of me to reach back over to the dresser, where he grabbed one of his T-shirts, a pair of navy-blue sweats that read NAVY up the leg in yellow block letters, and a pair of thick, wooly socks. He stacked them in a bundle and handed them to me with a kiss to my temple.
“Get comfortable and meet me downstairs,” he said before checking the magazine in the gun and then tucking it into the back of his jeans, sauntering out of the room like he hadn’t just tipped my entire universe on its head.
So I quickly stripped off my summer dress and pulled on his clothes, taking a moment to sniff them, because they smelled like him, and I had almost let myself forget just how much I missed his scent. How much I missed the very man himself.
And then I walked downstairs to find out what else he had in store for me. I was just about to open my mouth to ask him, when the doorbell rang.
“Who is that?”
“That would be Wes,” Rick answers me. He looks through the window to the left of the door before pulling it open with a huge smile on his face. “Good to see you, brother.”
“It’s been too long,” the man, just as giant as Rick, says when he makes his way into the house, and I recognize him instantly. Wes O’Connell hasn’t changed much. He still has dark hair and hazel eyes, a lot like Rick, but where Wes has angular, classically handsome features, Rick looks rougher, darker, hotter. Wes is good-looking, but Rick inspires my fantasies. He has and probably always will.
“Hi.” I wave nervously when the semi-famous FBI agent turns his attention to me.
“Hi.” He smiles gently at me, and it transforms his whole face. Then he turns to Rick and says, “I see what you mean.”
“Yeah.” Rick smiles a funny smile that makes my belly go all wobbly.
“She’s pretty,” Wes says. “Seriously pretty. But it’s the whole awkward and uncomfortable but she’ll make the best out of it vibe that knocks it out of the park.”
“Yeah,” Rick agrees while they continue talking about me like I’m not even here. “And she’s got a great ass.”
“Hey!” I shout. “I’m right here.”
“I know,” Rick says, wrapping his arms around me.
“Ugh. What do you want?” I roll my eyes. They are both ridiculous, and my nerves are too frayed to deal with them right now. At another time, I would love to hear all about how Wes went back and got the girl after all, and how they became semi-famous back in Jersey. How funny that we’re from the same state, but I grew up not far from the shore, and they grew up in North Jersey. It’s a small world after all.
“You,” Rick says without missing a beat.
“I hate to interrupt…” Wes leads in.
“No, you don’t,” Rick replies to his friend with a smile on his face.
“That’s true,” Wes admits as he starts hunting for the kitchen. “Got any beer or a decent pizza place around here?”
“Yes on the beer,” Rick calls out.
“Don’t hold your breath on the pizza,” I answer. “But it’s passable.”
“Ugh,” Wes groans. “I miss home.”
“I just miss the pizza.” And my daughter, but I didn’t want to be a Debbie Downer when these two hadn’t seen each other in a while. Plus, we need to find out what everyone knows, so we can piece it all together.
“I’ll order some,” Rick says, pulling his phone from his pocket.
I make my way into the kitchen, find a glass, and fill it with tap water. I gulp the contents of the glass down before filling it up again.
“Thirsty?” Wes asks from behind me. I feel my spine stiffen and a startled gasp catch in my throat. Truthfully, I had forgotten he was there for a minute, so he had surprised me. I wasn’t cut out for this cloak-and-dagger life.
“I’m… uhh… fine,” I answer. My voice sounds gruff to my own ears, but hopefully Wes doesn’t notice.
He looks toward the living room where we can hear Rick on the phone with the pizza place. Wes is clearly weighing his words and deciding how much time he has to threaten me if I break his buddy’s heart again. I literally don’t have time for such trivial conversations. I can’t stand all this waiting around. I need to do something.
I’m about to make some flippant comment to Wes when he turns his attention back to me. His hazel eyes burn bright at me, and for a second, it feels like he sees all my secrets. I wonder what kind of voodoo magic they train them in at the FBI.
“He’s not a bad guy, you know,” Wes says quietly, my guess so that Rick won’t hear.
“I never said he was.”
“But you still won’t give him a chance?” he asks me, and the look he gives me could be described as no less than disappointed.
“We never had a chance.” I sigh.
“No offense, but that’s bullshit,” Wes clips.
“In my experience, when someone starts off with ‘no offense,’ it means that’s exactly what they are about to do, so why don’t you save your bullshit judgement for someone else,” I bite out.
“No,” he says, folding his arms across his chest. The move is infuriating. How dare he judge me and my life, when he’s met me a grand total of three times in my entire life. Fuck him.
“No?” He did not just say no to me when I told him to let it the fuck go. I’ve been feeling like I’m chaffing against the world all day. Like I can’t get comfortable, because I’m the puzzle piece that doesn’t fit, and it has rubbed me raw all day. I’m spoiling for a fight, and if Wes really wants one, I’ll be happy to oblige him.
“That’s what I said, no.”
“You are more of a bitter bag of dicks than I remembered, Wes, so why don’t you do us both a favor and butt out.”
“I could say the same about you, darlin’,” he snarls on a saccharine-sweet smile.
“Do not start with me,” I warn. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you’re a coward,” he says calmly. “And I know that man in there would kiss the ground you walk on if you let him. I know he would offer you the moon if it would make you happy, let alone a beautiful life if you let him, but you’re so caught up in your o
wn miserable bullshit that you won’t ever give him a chance.”
“What chance?” I practically shout. “We had a chance nine years ago, and I gave it all up, for him, so don’t you stand there and look down your nose at me.”
“And it’s within your grasp again, and what are you doing?” he asks, looking at me like I’m nothing but a dog turd on his shoe. “You’re running. I see it. You’re just waiting for an opportunity to run again.”
“I have to find my daughter!” I grip my hair in my hands, pulling it roughly from its messy bun.
“You don’t think he feels the same way?” Wes snarls at me. “You don’t think he’s dying inside? He finally found the family he thought slipped through his fingers nine years ago, and he is feeling her absence greatly, but you’re still only thinking about you. What about him?”
And then after he finishes tossing my world on its head, he tosses back the rest of his beer before dropping the glass bottle in the trashcan and stalking from the room without offering me so much as a backward glance or a “See you on the flipside.”
And to be honest, I don’t really blame him. After what he said, I can’t help but feel like a monster. Have I been so caught up in my own head that I haven’t bothered to think of Rick? It kind of lessons the sacrifices I made for him years ago. Maybe I’m as bad as Wes thinks.
I fill up my glass one more time before grabbing two more beers from the fridge and carrying them all into the dining room that sits between the living room and kitchen. I set my water on the table and carry the beers to where the guys are talking in low tones so I won’t hear them. We watch each other warily as I approach them.
“Another beer?” I ask as I hold them out in front of me.
“Thanks,” Wes says as he eyes the still capped bottle cautiously. I wanted him to realize I didn’t spit in it when I could have.
Caught by the Chief of Staff (A Presidential Affair Book 2) Page 13
