by Zoe Dawson
His cell chimed and when he looked at the display, he swore softly. He was supposed to be at breakfast twenty minutes ago.
He immediately called. “What’s wrong? You’re never late. Are you all right?” His sister’s frantic voice burst from the receiver.
“Sis, calm down. I’m fine. There’s just been a complication.”
“What kind of complication? Dammit, Wes! You’ve been here for one day and already you’re ditching us? We planned this breakfast for you! There are people here waiting to see you.”
“I’m not ditching you. Something’s come up.”
He heard in the background, “Let me have the phone.”
“Wes! What is going on? We have been waiting for you for twenty minutes.”
“I know. I forgot. I’ve been busy with—”
“I’m so sick of this behavior. You avoid everything that has meaning to you because you can’t overcome what your father did.” His gut clenched at the tone of his mom’s voice, anguished and teary. Shit, he hadn’t meant to make her cry. He winced, realizing just now that she had probably shed more than these tears over his inability to face coming back to Reddick. “You’ve been away for years. Years, Wes! Holding onto your bitterness is more important than your family. Well, fine. You take care of your complication!” The phone went dead. His mom had hung up on him. Fuck, she must be mad to cut him off like that. He’d have to make the time to smooth this over, but his family had to understand. Kia had to be the priority now.
He wasn’t going to listen to that niggling voice that said he was more than relieved. He didn’t want the damn breakfast in the first place. Most of those people knew his dad…he’d make it up to his mom and sister.
When he went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, Triton followed, but Cowboy stopped dead. A cat sat near some food dishes, and when Cowboy entered the room, the animal gave him an unblinking, silent stare. This had to be the attack cat. He braced himself. But BFA rose and walked over to him and curled around his legs, purring.
He frowned. He looked at the dog and Triton looked at him, then back at the cat, then back at each other. It was as if it was some comical canine skit. “Are you just lulling me into a false sense of security? Are you an ambush kitty?” Hadn’t Kia named him after Brute Force Attack? He didn’t seem so bad. “Sorry, buddy, but humans first, and I’m not sure what to feed you.” The dog grunted his two cents about being fed, and the cat meowed at him, purring some more. “All right, you two spoiled brats, I’ll see what I can do, but first I need a shot of caffeine or no one’s going to be happy with this grumpy SEAL.”
Triton and BFA touched noses, then the cat wound around the dog’s legs, purring even louder. There was a ruckus outside, the kind of noise he recognized. Horses wanted their breakfast, too. “Settle down,” he muttered. “What a zoo, but everyone gets fed.” Cowboy looked for the coffeemaker, but there wasn’t anything on her counter that he recognized until his gaze rested on a black and silver monstrosity. He approached it, typical of any man who was fascinated with gadgets. He crouched slightly, and when he looked down, both animals were watching him like he was their own personal entertainment.
“What you both looking at? I’m a SEAL. We can adapt.”
A soft exhale of laughter sounded behind him, and he turned to find Kia watching them all. “Can you?” she asked, her voice all husky and drowsy. “That remains to be seen.” She crossed the kitchen and reached for the contraption. Cowboy stepped back and watched her. She moved efficiently, punching controls, setting in little colorful tins, then revving the machine up. It spilled out a brew of foamy liquid into a horse-themed mug she’d pulled from the cupboard above the steaming appliance.
As soon as it was done spitting, she grabbed the handle and set the mug in his hand. He took a sip and exhaled the pleasure of that first taste. “Chocolate? This is a mocha. How did you know—”
“You had a chocolate bar every day for lunch in high school.” She muscled him aside and smirked at him. He took another drink as she started her own cup, yawning. He stared at her, and she shrugged. “Hey, I’m observant.”
“Mmhmm,” he murmured noncommittedly. That meant she was watching him in high school just like he’d watched her.
She looked down at the dog and placid cat, then frowned. “Are you BFF’s with BFA?” she asked as if it was an accusation.
“Um, he was the one who made the first move,” Cowboy said.
She frowned, then reached down to pet him. The cat hissed and jumped back as if he’d been scalded. He made the kind of deep, I’m-pissed-as-hell feline warning growl deep in his throat, then swiped at her.
She hastily drew her hand back and gave him an exasperated, quelling look. “Great. He’d rather make nice with a stranger than me.” She took a deep breath. “But I will win you over, mister. Mark my words.”
Damn she was adorable. She went to the fridge and opened the door. He saw her wince, reminding him how close she’d come to meeting her maker last night. He set down the cup and took her by the shoulders, steering her toward the bar and stool facing the kitchen. Her dining room, situated to the right of the open kitchen, had a rough-hewn table with six cool-looking copper chairs around it. He really liked her style, the soft/hard décor with the metal accents and the soft furnishings.
He pulled the pill bottle out of his jeans pocket and set it on the counter. She gave him a scrunched-up face. “I’m fine.”
“Don’t be a macho, tough guy, Kia. Take the pills. I’ll take care of the food.”
She was quiet for a moment. He’d always sensed she was a strong, capable woman. Most women would be frantic, panicked and emotionally distraught, yet Kia was sitting here having this crazy conversation with him.
She released a deep sigh. “Well, it’s much more than you and me. There’s Triton, un-hello kitty,” she stuck her tongue out at the cat, “and three horses. I have a huge delivery of hay due soon, and it all has to go in the loft, stall mucking, and horse care. I have a bar to run, computer stuff to do, errands and girly stuff.”
“You own the bar?”
Her smile was sheepish. “Yeah.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I can handle most of that. I’m just not sure about the girly stuff.”
“I have to wash my delicates by hand and paint my toenails,” she said deadpan.
He grinned. Damn this beautiful, complex funny woman. “You can give me some direction on the domestics, but I know how to take care of horses, no instructions needed there. And, at Sweetwater, I was the Hay King. Delegate the bar management, computer stuff is okay because that’s not going to tax you none. We’ll do the errands together. I can dang well hand wash delicates and paint toenails.”
“Wow, a Renaissance Man. How did I get so lucky?” She grabbed the bottle and popped two pills, chasing them with a gulp of coffee. “There’s more. I am part of the whole reunion—”
“Cancel.”
“I can’t miss it. These people are depending on me.” She met his gaze head on like a freight train. “If you think I’m going to stick my head in the sand and disappear, you might start rethinking that pushy, alpha attitude right now.” There was that determined chin. “I have commitments and a life to live. He’s not going to take that away from me. Now that I’m aware, I will be more careful—”
“Damn straight. With me you will be.”
“So, what gives here, Wes? Are you really sticking around?”
He turned to look at her. “Yes, I’m moving in, and I’m not letting you out of my sight until we get to the bottom of this shit storm you’ve fallen into, darlin’.”
“Whoa, back that Pony Express up. You think that deep, sexy darlin’ is going to soften me up there, cowboy?” she asked breathlessly. “I’m not saying it isn’t working, but what exactly are you going to do, be my twenty-four/seven bodyguard?”
“That’s my call name in the SEALs.”
“What?”
“Cowboy, cuz of my Texas accent.”
<
br /> “Oh, I was just referring to the run of the mill, range-riding kind.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m not that anymore. I’m a badass, highly-trained, spec ops wall of muscle that guy is going to have to go through to get to you.”
“Are you going to answer my question?”
“Not exactly. Tank and I are going to be your bodyguards.”
“What the hell is a Tank?” she squeaked.
After her direction, he found the frying pan. Peering at the stove, he tweaked the right knob. “Petty Officer Thorn Hunt, Team Seven, big but stealthy and as dangerous as they come. But, you can call him Tank.”
“Tank,” she said incredulously. “He’s on his way here?”
“Yes, I told you that last night.” He cracked eggs, scrambled them, added ingredients.
“I was a little out of it last night, so excuse me.”
Was it really him needing to stay on point that was holding him back from being with Kia? Or did it really boil down to the fact that she lived here in Reddick, a place he didn’t want to be. That something couldn’t work out between them because even with the purchase of the ranch, he wasn’t so sure he could ever get over the deep, to his roots betrayal he’d experienced. How could he be proud of all his accomplishments when his core, his foundation was rotten?
“Yeah, I was a little, too.” The heat, the taste of her all came rushing back at him. The metal and bud of her nipple against his tongue, how sensitive the tips were and the sound of her pleasure as he’d tasted her. He’d vowed to keep his hands off her, but his awareness of her couldn’t be more on edge.
She blushed as her thoughts finally understood where his thoughts were right now. The shower hung between them like the overheated air between their lips, whispering against their skin with a raw longing, beckoning them to give in.
He swallowed and dished up the western omelets, garnished them with tomatoes and a dollop of sour cream and served her.
“I need a fork,” she groused. When he looked at her blankly, she blew out a breath and said, “Drawer right below you.”
The rattle of the drawer was loud in the still air as he pulled out a fork and handed it to her.
She loaded up a bite and after tasting it, she said, “Wow, this is good.”
“Kia—”
“I’m not ungrateful. I just hate being corralled and…dammit…afraid.”
“There’s no other way to deal with this. You need protection from that man. He was a professional.”
She blanched. “What do you mean?”
“Trained. I’d say former special ops.”
“Oh, God. Special ops.”
“You were lucky with both the break-in and the attack.”
“You think he broke in, too?”
“Yes, I do.” She bit her lip. “Why does this guy want you dead?”
“I have no clue.” She looked up at him and he could tell she wasn’t done. “Wes, I’m still a hacker and in the past, I’ve done some illegal jobs. I was angry when I was a teenager, and I wanted to rebel against the world. Typical orphan who no one really understood or cared about.”
“You were an orphan?”
“I might as well have been. All of my foster parents couldn’t stand me and thought I was a freak. So, yeah, I lived pretty much alone, but that’s beside the point. I took on any job that I thought would stick it to the man. You know…the establishment. I’m not proud of that, but there it is. Everyone has some secret they’re ashamed of…that’s one of mine.” She toyed with the food. “Anyway, I covered my tracks extremely well. I’m pretty much a ghost online.”
“Quicksilver.” She got even more white. “I was in the office when you were accused of that grade database break-in incident. That’s the hacker name Mr. Jackson used. Yours. It fits perfectly.”
“Yes, I’m Quicksilver, but I denied any knowledge of that, and he couldn’t prove a thing, the old goat. He might have been our counselor, but he wasn’t very encouraging.”
Cowboy laughed softly. “He thought I was nothing but a dumb jock.”
“He was a jerk and fool,” Kia said. “I ran rings around him in high school, even hacked his bank account and transferred all his money from his checking to his savings account. He always gave me the evil eye after that. I think he was a little afraid of me.” She let out an evil giggle.
“So, you’ve dealt with some shady characters, then?”
She sobered. “Yes, I have, but I gave it up years ago. Now I’m a Black Hat.”
So she was hacking to find breaches or bypasses in internet security. Also known as crackers or dark-side hackers who legitimately broke things for a living. “Working for the Department of Defense?”
“I can’t talk about the DoD, Wes. It’s proprietary information, confidential.”
“I get that,” he said with a wry shake of his head. “Hard to hear that come back at me, but we might have to investigate everything to figure this out.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” She finished off the omelet. “So what we have is a dead end.”
“For now.”
The horses started in with more neighing from the corral. “The natives are getting restless. If we don’t want a stampede, we better feed them. We should get at it.”
“There’s something else we need to talk about. Those animals can wait.”
She slid down off the barstool. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he wanted to talk to her about. She got it by the reserved look on his face, coupled with the gruff, direct tone of his voice, that their conversation was going to be about that heated, pleasure-burst in the shower in the early hours of the morning, and what she wanted from him now. Who was she kidding? She had always wanted something more with Wes.
“About the shower—”
“If you’re going to apologize, you can stuff it.” She faced him squarely, and it was hard not to get distracted. He was wearing that ridiculous shirt that she’d given him, and he filled it out nicely. The man had a chest that was made for a woman to press herself against, the kind of chest that was just as solid for her head as it was for her hands, filled with heavy-muscled contours that not only made her want to touch, to lick and suck. He was disheveled, unshaven, scruffy and it was not fair that men looked so delectable in the morning. She was sure she looked like a complete mess. But, not her cowboy, he looked like one of those Ralph Lauren ads for cologne. He didn’t have to project the cowboy image; he was the cowboy image making unkempt so damn sexy. She should be fighting the lust he inspired, but she’d always wanted to know what it would be like to be with him and that small taste wasn’t nearly enough, but she feared that Wes’s noble character was going to nix anything else between them. She didn’t have to like it. “I’m not sorry one bit.”
The cat yowled, and she huffed out a breath as she headed for the cupboard. She had no idea what had stopped him from making a move in high school, but they were grown now, adults. There wouldn’t be anything that she would regret with Wes. He might want to protect her, but what was developing between them was as real as it got. She opened it, the food container clearly marked. Wes moved in and took over.
“Genghis Cat gets half a cup. His food is in the second container marked Beast.” Triton three-quarters.” She handed him the measuring cup, then continued, “I had some pain killers, and I was a little out of it, but I knew what I was doing.” He filled the bowls and set them down all in complete silence. “I wanted to be with you, plain and simple,” she went on before he could say anything. “In my opinion, we didn’t go far enough.”
“Are you done?”
“No, but you can talk now.”
“By all means.”
She tilted her head and wished he would give her some indication how he was feeling. Calm, still waters was really irritating right now. “I’m not a demanding woman, and I don’t cling…well except when I’ve been knifed, and I’m freaking scared.” Oh, Kia, you’re so full of horse hooey. He raised a brow. Th
at rodeo knew when he was dealing with some bullcrap. “Oh, all right. I can be demanding.” But she had a right. Last night she had been so close to that heat, it had burned her badly, and she wanted more. He was everything she’d yearned for as a teenager and now as a woman, yet so much more. The desire between them had been mutual and real, soul-stirring, and deeply, irrevocably emotional.
And he obviously didn’t have a clue. He was a typical, stupid, stubborn man when it came to admitting anything that had to do with his feelings or emotions. And she wasn’t one to push or cling to false expectations. She’d learned with her last relationship that you couldn’t force someone to love you back.
She leaned back against the counter for support. “Apologizing didn’t cross my mind, darlin’.”
“Huh? It seemed as if you thought you were taking advantage of me.”
“Your capacity to resist was low.”
“Resist? That never crossed my mind.”
He chuckled. “This is about focus. My attraction to you is too damned distracting, and I can’t allow it to affect my ability to fully protect you,” he admitted roughly, and dragged his fingers through his hair. “I need to stay on point and ride the herd like wolves are snapping on our heels. Thinking about having sex with you is counterproductive to maintaining vigilance. I’m not about to make a mistake here, Kia. Not with your life hanging in the balance. Besides, I’m visiting and being a SEAL isn’t conducive to a long-term situation, especially when my home base is San Diego. That’s something you can think about while we work on this problem of who wants to harm you.”
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, thankful for his presence, his honesty and his lethal skills. For a moment, he didn’t respond, then he pulled her close and held her tightly. He was so honorable trying to create a professional relationship between them, even while admitting to their attraction all to keep her safe. That he had to physically and mentally remove himself from the temptation of sleeping with her said a whole lot about Wes and his true feelings—that sex with her wouldn’t be easy, casual, or forgettable. Because if he’d just wanted gratuitous sex, he would be taking advantage of her fear and need for safety and taken her invitation in the shower last night.
