Becoming Bella

by Sarah Hegger

  Bella edged an inch away from Nate. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Nate tightened his arms around her. “I’ve got you now.”

  The shudders kept growing. Adam had broken into her home, her sanctuary. He’d stood right where she and Nate stood now and tried to get to her. She couldn’t ignore this anymore. Much as she wanted to pretend Adam would go away, he wasn’t going to. “What do I do?”

  “You can’t stay here.” Nate’s voice rumbled through his chest.

  No way in hell would she spend the night here. Not now. Damn Adam and this bullshit. He’d made her home feel like a danger zone. “I could go to my parents’ house.”

  “Alone?” Nate pressed her away from him. His beautiful face was so serious. “No.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t even bother with a token protest. She really, really didn’t want to be alone. Maybe she could stay with Liz.

  “What the fuck.” As if Bella had summoned her, Liz rounded the bend in the hall at a run. She’d thrown a jacket and UGGs on, but the black silk of her negligee peeped out. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  “Adam broke in.” Saying the words brought the damn tears. She hadn’t even known she was close to crying until Liz gave her that sympathetic face and rubbed her back. As if bawling her eyes out had been waiting in the wings for its cue, Bella couldn’t seem to stop.

  Nate rocked her in his arms, murmuring something.

  Liz stroked her back with different murmurs.

  “She can stay with me,” Liz said.

  Bella sobbed harder. Liz was so kind and so giving all the time. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t given her friendship a chance before now.

  “No.” Nate’s arms got like a vice, but she welcomed them. “She’s staying with me.”

  Liz quirked a brow. “Bella?”

  The part of her that really wanted to be feisty and fiercely independent whispered that she should turn the offer down with a flounce and a few choice words. But she was tired and scared out of her tiny mind and next to Nate was the only place she wanted to be. “I’ll be okay with Nate.”

  “Well, if that changes . . .” Noel appeared behind Liz. “You only have to call and Liz and I will come get you.”

  Liz turned on him. “Don’t say Liz and I like we’re a couple. You lost that right. Actually, you pretty much fucked your way out of that right.”

  “I understand.” Noel nodded and stepped around a vibrating Liz. He pressed a business card into Bella’s palm. “You can call me, or you can call Liz, anytime.”

  “Thank you.” Bella had the horrible feeling she might start bawling again.

  “Pack a bag, honey.” Nate stroked her spine. “Take a few things for the next couple of days. This is now an active crime scene. If Adam left behind any DNA, we’re gonna find it.”

  Red and blue lights flashed around the corner and a second cruiser drew up. Gabby climbed out, hitched up her utility belt, and strode toward them. “Sheriff.” She nodded at Nate. “What happened?”

  “I’ll walk you through it.” Nate pressed Bella away from him. “Pack that bag. I don’t want anyone else inside until we’ve processed the scene.”

  Now her house, which she had been so proud to buy and spent hours decorating, making it into the sort of place where she felt safe and happy, was a crime scene. Bella dragged herself to her bedroom.

  * * *

  Nate’s instincts howled not to let her out of his sight, but they had one shot at Adam and Nate aimed to make sure he had enough evidence gathered to make it a slam dunk. He had Bella’s testimony, but some physical evidence linking the bastard to the scene would certainly help.

  Gabby trailed him into the kitchen.

  “Far as I can see, he broke in through the kitchen.” He motioned her around some broken glass. “Make sure you check for footprints outside in the morning. We might get lucky. Then—”

  “Sheriff.” Gabby crouched down near the glass. “I got this. This isn’t my first crime scene.”

  Maybe not, but it was her first crime scene where Bella was the victim. Make that second crime scene. He should have found Adam before it got to this, but after the incident at the store, Adam had pulled a vanishing act. Nate aimed to make sure they got the twisted shithead before there was a third incident. Adam was escalating, and that scared Nate more than he cared to admit.

  Fuck! Adam had gotten too close. One flimsy door had stood between him and Bella. His hands shook and he shoved them into his pockets.

  “You okay there, Sheriff ?” Gabby kept on examining the back door. It was like she had ESP or some such shit.

  “Yeah.” Because what else could he say? That he was freaked way the fuck out and he didn’t like it one little bit? He knew enough about shock to get that his reaction was setting in now. Now that Bella was safe, his mind was playing what if with him and he hated the direction it was headed. Working with living victims was always harrowing, and faces from his SLC days lined up and jeered at him. All the ones he hadn’t gotten to in time. All the women and kids left to piece their lives together again after some shithead had torn them apart.

  Not his Bella. He wasn’t going to add her face to that lineup.

  “I’m taking Bella home with me,” he said. Fuck what Gabby made of that.

  She nodded. “Sounds like the best plan.”

  Nate left her to it. Who the hell was he kidding? It was the only plan he could get his head around. Gut deep, he needed to be close to her, to have his eyes on her at all times, and he couldn’t make that go away.

  On her fridge, she had her plan for Christmas pinned with a fridge magnet that read: “Live Now.” Beside it hung a birthday calendar for the year. He checked August 10, just for shits, and sure enough, there he was in Bella’s neat handwriting. In middle school, she used to dot her i’s with little hearts and flowers.

  She’d jammed a little slip of paper under the same magnet. The number looked familiar. He pulled out his cell and checked.

  Daniel Carver. Motherfucker!

  ChapterTwenty-Four

  Nate lived at the opposite end of town, where the buildings thinned into the national park. Bella had always known where his house was, but this was her first visit. She sat quietly beside him as he drove through the pitch-black night and parked in front of a neat stone house. A porch wrapped around most of the house and took advantage of the views. Not that she could see much in the dark.

  From here, he must be able to look out on the park from three sides of the house.

  “You okay?” With his hand on the door, he turned to her.

  “Not really.” His face had settled into grim lines and she wanted to alleviate them. “But I will be.”

  “We’ll get him, Bella.” Nate opened his car door on what sounded like a promise.

  He was at her side before she could fully open her door. Taking her bag from her, he shouldered it and wrapped his larger hand around hers. Security lights blinked on as they got closer to the front door. Of course Nate locked his door, and he dropped her hand as he worked the key in the lock.

  Inside, honey-colored wood floors gleamed under the overhead light. Town gossip had shared with her that he’d bought the house for a good deal a few years back and was busy renovating it. “Did you do the floors?”

  “Yeah.” Nate dropped her bag beside the door. “Matt helped me with the supplies, but I’m doing the work myself.”

  The hall opened onto a living room with large windows facing the park. The absence of any sort of ambient town light made the dark outside absolute.

  Nate turned left past a staircase with a truly ugly yellow and orange floral runner. The top half of the glass banister had been replaced with wood and wrought iron. She sure hoped he got to that runner as well.

  “I started in here,” Nate said and led her into the kitchen.

  Cherry cabinets cast a warm amber glow. Granite countertops ran across all the surfaces. A central island with barstools held the stovetop.

&nbs
p; Nate led her over to the stools and she perched on one.

  Stainless-steel appliances shone like he might polish them every day. It was warm, welcoming, and if that range was anything to go by, a place in which someone actually knew how to cook.

  “Are you hungry?” Nate opened the fridge.

  “Not really.”

  He glanced at her. “How about I make you something anyway?”

  “Want me to cook?” The devil made her ask. That and some need to break the seriousness.

  Nate stiffened. “No. I’ll cook.”

  She smiled at him to let him off the hook. “I’m not really hungry.”

  “Good thing.” His answering smile warmed her. “Because I don’t have any pink marshmallows.”

  “Maybe I could just take a shower and go to bed.” She didn’t feel sleepy, but they both had to be up and at it in the morning.

  Nate grinned. “I think I can do one better than that. Come.”

  He led her up the stairs onto a wide landing. The carpet of yellow and orange flowers had been given free rein up here. Dear God.

  “Yeah.” Nate grimaced. “I haven’t gotten around to doing these floors yet.”

  A new-looking set of double doors opened onto the master suite. Here the floors had been changed to the same hardwood she’d seen downstairs. A huge bed dominated the room, flanked by a pair of mismatched side tables.

  Nate walked through another door and into a bathroom. Bella stopped inside the door and stared. Cream and wood blended together in a haven that made her want to stay there all day.

  Bent over a massive tub, which looked out onto the night, Nate opened the faucets. Oval and deep, it was the sort of tub a girl would want to lounge in for hours and soak her problems away.

  “I don’t have any of that bubble stuff.” Nate shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “That’s okay.” Bella wanted to hug him. “I don’t really like bubbles.”

  “You don’t?” He raised his brow.

  He knew her too well. “Okay, I do, but the bath will be great.”

  “I’ll get your bag.” He left the bathroom.

  Bella ran her fingers over the cool marble counters. Wow; Nate had spared no expense in this bathroom, which seemed a bit weird. He wasn’t the type to luxuriate; she was pretty sure about that. Yet he’d made a place for someone who liked to spend time in the tub, or take her time on her makeup. He’d built a bathroom with a woman in mind.

  Her chest throbbed. Not her, apparently. Or any woman she knew. Perhaps in some distant future, a Mrs. Nate would crawl out of the woodwork. Please God, Bella hoped to have moved on with her life by that time.

  Nate’s footsteps rapped on the wood and then he was back again. Bag in one hand, a glass of wine in the other. “I can’t do bubbles, but wine I’ve got.”

  Lucky, lucky Mrs. Future Nate. Beneath all the bristle and attitude lurked the soft heart of a man who lived to make his woman happy.

  “Hey.” His expression gentled and he put the wineglass beside the tub. “You okay?”

  “I’m okay.” Bella tried her best not to lean into his warmth, but his hands on her waist weakened her resolve and she went with it, burrowing deep into the smell of laundry detergent and Nate.

  “It’s gonna be okay, babe.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’m gonna make it that way.”

  Bella nodded and, after another squeeze, let him go and stepped back. “I’ll have my bath.”

  “You do that.” He stood there, hands back in his pockets. “You need any help?”

  The sort of help that involved Nate’s big, rough hands stripping off her clothes, running over her skin. Nate cupping her breasts, sliding his hand down her stomach and into her pajama pants. The sort of help that had her wet and aching. Her voice sounded a mite too bright and chipper. “No, thanks.”

  Nate thought so too because he raised his brow. His lids drooped heavily over the heat of his eyes. “I’ll just . . .” His walk to the door seemed stiff, without the usual Nate grace.

  The door closed behind him.

  This getting-over-Nate wasn’t getting any easier.

  He’d made a stupid mistake bringing her here, but damned if he knew what else to do. That primal hunk of Cro-Magnon left inside him wouldn’t have it any other way.

  And here he was, sporting wood, as he tried not to think about Bella glistening naked and pink in his bathroom. What the hell was the matter with him? He wasn’t this guy. He had a horrible track record with women in so far as sticking around went. Sure, he never made promises, and if a woman wasn’t down with how he needed things to play out, he walked away, but women still got hurt, and nice girls like Bella always wanted what he couldn’t give them.

  Where did that leave him? Sweaty and hard. He could kid himself and say all he wanted from her was sex, but he didn’t have enough bullshit inside for that. This need for Bella ran deeper, a need to mark her as his, to celebrate her escape from harm in the most elemental way. Nate adjusted himself and took up a position in front of his TV. There had to be something on here to get his mind off Bella.

  A naked Bella sliding soapy hands all over those lush curves.

  He flipped through the channels and found some hockey. Big guys pounding the shit out of each other would work as a distraction.

  The thing with Bella was that he’d always known this on some gut-deep, self-preservation level. She spelled trouble for him, blinked out in Morse code from those big blue eyes that looked at him as if he embodied the love child of Santa Claus and Captain America.

  Horrible thought.

  On the TV, Barrie slammed Giroux into the boards, hard enough to have the Philly crowd braying for blood and pounding on the glass.

  She was his Mary Jane Watson, the woman he wanted to be a better man for. For her, he wanted to strip away the mask and show her who he really was.

  But beneath the badge he was what he’d always been—a POS punk with no sense of loyalty or integrity. A punk who had put his family through all kinds of hell and left a string of broken hearts behind him. Bella deserved better than that, better than him.

  But Daniel Carver sure as hell wasn’t it. He didn’t care that Daniel seemed to have turned his life around. The man wasn’t good enough for Bella. Nobody was. He dug in his pocket and pulled out the slip of paper with Daniel’s phone number on it. With relish, he balled it into a wad and stuffed it down the couch cushions.

  Okay, not his best move. Taking the scrap of paper in the first place crossed some sort of line. He really didn’t want to think about that or he might have to dig the paper out and return it to Bella. Screw it. He wasn’t perfect; never pretended to be either.

  Bella’s soft footfalls padded across the wood. She appeared beside the couch and stood there looking uncertain. Long hair still wet and hanging in a thick braid down her back, her pretty face flushed and scrubbed. Her glance flickered to him and then the TV. “What are we watching?”

  So goddamn sweet. Pure sugar all the way to the bone.

  He moved the remote so she could sit beside him.

  With her soft smile, she curled up beside him in a waft of honey and the soap he always used.

  The siren blared as the Avalanche evened the score.

  A man could see every thought she had in those huge eyes. Her lashes spiked dark and thick against her creamy skin. He’d always liked her nose. A little button turned up at the end that she wrinkled as she thought, making twin lines across the bridge. Her mouth was sin. In a full, pouty curve that almost seemed too big for her delicate face. Matt had nicknamed her Tinker Bell because she looked a lot like the Disney fairy. Peter Pan needed to have his head examined for turning her down.

  A tentative smile quivering, Bella blinked at him.

  “You like hockey?” He had to clear his throat.

  Damn if she didn’t wrinkle her nose. “Maybe.” She laid her head against his shoulder, her damp hair cool on his cheek. “Thank you, Nate.”

  The need
to hold her freight-trained through him. He had to keep it cool, controllable. “It’s my job.”

  She stiffened. Her breath caught. “Okay.”

  He was such a dick. He slid his arm around her shoulders and tucked her closer to him. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  She resisted.

  Nate increased the pressure until she gave and sank against his side. “You mean more than that, Bella. You have to know that.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded, nudging his chin with the top of her head. “I just don’t know where that leaves me.”

  Neither did he.

  * * *

  Bella closed her eyes and breathed in undiluted Nate. His warmth beneath her cheek, the solidity of him pressed against her side. She’d had what could only be called a really shitty couple of days. Right now, she clung to the life raft that was Nate.

  Tension radiated from him and she should move away, give him space, but she couldn’t make herself do it.

  “Bella.” He wove their fingers together. Hers looked tiny and slim between his, but their hands fit palm to palm, like they’d been designed that way. She couldn’t afford to think like that. Not when he didn’t share those feelings.

  “It’s fine, Nate.” She squeezed his fingers. “It wasn’t a question. More like a statement.”

  “Babe.” He pressed his cheek to her head. “You should get some sleep.”

  Hell no! “I don’t want to be alone.”

  “You’re safe here. With me.”

  “I know.”

  Questions hurtled around and around in her mind. What would have happened if Adam had gotten through that door? Would he keep going until he got to her?

  Cold stroked down her spine and she shivered.

  Nate rubbed her arm. “Are you freaking out on me?”

  “A little.”

  He shifted, lifting her onto his lap. Their eyes were on the same level. His glowed that weirdly beautiful gold-green. “It’s going to be okay, babe.”

  “I know.” Because she did. Nate would fix this, make it right. She threaded her fingers through the silky hair at his nape, needing the connection.