by Liz Lee
Riley let his shirt fall to the floor, lay on the sheet-covered couch and tried to find sleep, but it proved elusive.
Maybe it was the knowledge that on the other side of the front door agent dog walker McBride, major screw up, was supposed to be watching out for Callah. Keeping her safe from the evil out there. Riley wasn’t stupid. Evil definitely existed.
Judging by the story he’d heard tonight, Callah’s evil could very well be the mother she didn’t know and the man who’d called himself her father. But there was the other evil too. Not the pure darkness. The gray. Finding the gray was key to this case. He was sure of it. The man at the diner tonight might hold that key.
He jumped up, pushed the front curtain aside and peeked out the window, saw the shadow in the car across the street.
Damn.
He needed sleep. But it wasn’t happening. Not yet. Not now. What he wanted to do was go back to Callah’s bedroom, strip her bare and help her forget all her troubles, but that wasn’t an option. Because Callah looked like she was about to fall asleep on her feet. No matter how much he burned for her, he had to back away for now. Give her space. Because if they gave in to their desire now, she’d be using him to forget the current hell she was in the middle of, and suddenly, that wasn’t enough.
He flipped open his phone as he caught the shadow in the car moving. Looked like the agent was chatting with someone. Would Rand know who?
Riley punched his brother’s number, and Rand picked up on the second ring.
“Jesus, Riley, it’s three in the morning.”
Yeah. Whatever. “I figured you’d be on your way out here. Riding to the rescue like you said earlier.”
“I asked the wrong questions to the right people or I would be big brother. Right now I’m in a pretty precarious position, but it should work itself out in a few hours.”
Must be serious if Rand wasn’t going to take the opportunity to point out once again what a mess Riley’d made of his life, but he knew asking about it was pointless.
“Tell me about Vince McBride.”
“Why? He giving you bad vibes?”
In the glow of the moonlight, Riley could see still McBride talking to someone, could see his tense body language. Possible anger.
“Let’s just say I think something’s off about the man.”
Rand didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Riley figured he’d stumbled onto something big.
“If this guy’s going to get Callah killed, you better fill me in now, Rand. I’m not going to let that happen.”
“Jesus, you are such an imbecile sometimes, Riley. No way is the FBI going to let a bad agent get someone like Callah killed.”
“I didn’t like your whole thirty seconds of silence.”
“I had to get somewhere I could talk.”
Interesting. He wasn’t alone.
“So talk.”
“Agent McBride told you what he knows. About Callah’s past. Her birth parents. The Crenshaws.”
“Yeah. Complete with pictures. It strikes me as odd that he didn’t ask to see everything in the package that some unknown sent me, and he didn’t have a total fit when he learned I was writing the story. ”
“Yeah. Well, I don’t know what I think about the story.”
He didn’t have time for this. “Tell me about McBride.”
His brother’s sigh sounded across the phone. “Look, Vince worked deep ops. He knew Callah’s birth parents. Worked with them. He’s been searching for Callah and her mother for years, but the case went cold over a decade ago. A couple years ago, he caught a break and tried to get the powers that be interested in re-opening things. For Vince this is personal.”
It didn’t ring true.
“For being so personal, he sure has been lax on this detail. He might just be the worst agent I’ve ever seen.”
“Vince used to be one of the best. His partner’s a good guy.”
“He looks twelve years old.”
“He’s the same age as me, and he joined Vince last week on this assignment. Give him a chance.”
Yeah. Whatever. “Tell me what more you know about Callah.”
Rand blew out a breath, and Riley knew his brother wasn’t going to tell him the truth, at least not the whole truth.
“Come on, Rand. This is life and death.”
“Hell, Riley, I know exactly what this is. All I can tell you for sure is I think Callah’s parents were doing what they thought was right for her.”
“The ones who gave birth or the ones who raised her with lies all these years?”
“Both. And that’s all I can say. So just let it drop now.”
Right. Like that was going to happen, but he could tell Rand wasn’t going to give him anymore either, at least not tonight. “Make the world a safer place, lil’ bro.”
Rand laughed. “You know I will. Don’t get yourself killed on this story, Riley, and don’t start drinking again.”
Always the little reminder of who he’d been, but Rand didn’t have to worry about alcohol. Not now. After this was over, well, that was another matter all together. “It’s not a story, Rand. It’s way bigger than that.”
Another long silence met his words, and then he heard Rand sigh again. “Yeah. That’s what I figured. Just be careful.”
“Back at you.”
And they hung up.
No I love you. That was for damn sure. Because the Sorenson boys weren’t sissies. They didn’t say I love you or I miss you. They didn’t cry. And they damn sure didn’t let their feelings show. They’d been taught that little lesson early on.
Riley threw the phone against the couch and watched it bounce onto the floor with a thunk.
Dammit. He hated being powerless.
Callah woke with cotton-mouth and a killer headache. The scent of fresh brewed coffee did a little to make that better. Then she remembered Riley Sorenson had spent the night on her couch and she couldn’t stop her smile.
Until she remembered exactly why he had stayed.
Hold it together. Hold it together. Hold it together. She closed her eyes. Told herself she would not cry as she grabbed her robe off the closet hook and wrapped it tight then slipped on her bunny slippers and padded down the hall, determined this would be a better day.
“Morning.” Her voice didn’t sound like her at all.
The sunlight shining in through the kitchen window cast Riley in a bit of silhouette. The paper lay on the table in front of him and she forced herself to focus on him and not on the paper or the story sure to be in it.
When he looked up at her with his endless blue eyes, her stomach did the same old loop-de-loop it always did, but then he stopped his coffee mug mid-lift. “Are those bunny slippers on your feet?”
Laughing, she looked down at the gray and pink floppy ears then back at him, not at all sure why his question left her breathless.
He just shook his head. “I’ve been having erotic dreams starring a woman who wears bunny slippers. Who’d’ve thunk?”
Only Riley Sorenson could make bunny slippers sexy. She couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through her at the thought of starring in his erotic dreams. “I’ll have you know I’ve had these slippers since I was a senior in high school.”
He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Oh, babe, I definitely believe it.”
She refused to let him fluster her this early in the morning. Still she couldn’t help but think about how they’d spent a month making love at the end of that senior year. Before he’d pushed her away. Later maybe they could do this.
She poured a cup of coffee, looked out the window. Agents McBride and Conroy still present. Along with her friendly neighborhood news crews.
Here we go again. Only this time they weren’t here about Charlie. She poured some sugar in the coffee, added cream.
“Hope you slept well last night.” His voice interrupted her thoughts and she turned from the window.
Sipping her coffee, she nodded then couldn’t help but
look down at the paper. Front page. Again. She didn’t want to read what he’d written. “I slept okay. You?”
“Well enough that tired won’t be an excuse.”
Oh boy.
“You’re just trying to make me blush, aren’t you?”
“Nah,” he laughed. “I’m trying to convince you to jump my bones.”
Something warm started low in her belly at his words. She decided he liked confusing her. One minute pushing her away, the next leaving her breathless. Quite frankly, she wasn’t up to the challenge this morning.
So she sipped her coffee with barely shaking hands. “Well then, I might ought to warn you, I’m not exactly what you’d call a morning person.” She pointed out the window, determined to change the subject. “I see our friendly neighborhood agents are still playing watchdog.”
Riley tilted his chair on the back legs. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
What did she want to call it? “Guard duty. Whatever. I’m going to get changed. Don’t sit in my chairs like that.”
Riley mock saluted as he sat his chair back on the floor. “Callah, wait.”
She didn’t really want to do the heart-to-heart thing this morning, but she wasn’t going to run away either. So she stood still, waited for Riley to speak and prayed for some holy intervention.
“I just want you to know, I’ll be here today.”
Of course he would. She picked the paper up off the table. Pointed to the story. Top of the fold. Huge headline. Local girl’s past under investigation. “I believe you, Riley. Why leave when you’ve got all this great stuff going on right under your nose?”
“That’s not fair. You know I wrote that story to protect you.”
She did. He was right. She wasn’t being fair, but she didn’t feel like being fair. She was tired of the rollercoaster of emotions. One minute Lara Croft. The next damsel in distress, the next somewhere in between. And always between them that fission, heat, whatever it was she couldn’t seem to get past it. She wanted to say either take me now or get the hell out of my house, but now wasn’t the time, and besides, women in bunny slippers just didn’t say things like that. If she wanted him, really wanted him, she should’ve dressed the part. Taking out her frustration by accusing him of using her for a story was wrong.
“I know. I’m just on edge today. I’m sorry. You’re right.”
Thankfully, her cell phone rang in the bedroom. “I’ve got to get that.”
With that she fled.
Riley watched her scurry down the hall in her bunny slippers and the old quilted robe that he figured had seen better days a decade ago. Her hair a mess, her face makeup free. Covered nearly head to toe, and Callah Crenshaw was still quite possibly the sexiest woman he’d ever known.
He’d seen the heat flare in her eyes when he’d teased her again. Wrong as it was, he couldn’t help himself. He could taste the tension between them, and dammit, he wanted to act on it. Take her in his arms and kiss her like she was meant to be kissed, not that chaste little peck from last night. Something down and dirty and soulful, like the kiss they’d shared at the cabin.
He wanted to take her away, help her forget the mess of her life and all its secrets. For all his denial last night, he’d finally acknowledged the truth. He didn’t care if Callah used him to forget her current reality.
Callah saw Jen’s number and almost laughed. “Thank you, Jen. Once again, you are a godsend.”
Jen didn’t sound the least bit amused. “Callah, my God, what’s going on out there?”
Callah sighed and wondered how many times she’d have to share this story. “I don’t know, Jen. I wish I did, but I really don’t have a clue.”
“I had no idea you were in trouble. Not real trouble. I knew I should’ve called the police yesterday.”
“I’m really okay. Riley’s here and federal agents are sitting outside my house all the time.”
“Riley’s there now?”
“He won’t leave.”
“You want him to leave and he won’t go? That’s it. I’m calling….”
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. For the first time in twenty-four hours she was having a conversation that felt real.
“No, Jen. Really. It’s fine. I want him here.”
“Oh, okay then.” The pause told Callah things were about to change. “Is it true? Someone killed your family? And you might be tied to terrorist plots? Nuclear secrets? A communist dictator?”
Callah shook her head. Funny how her perfectly horrible situation could be blown completely out of proportion. “Who knows what’s true? I certainly don’t have a clue. Riley’s story is the only thing I’ve seen.”
“Well then, you are missing out. You’re everywhere. Are you sure Riley’s okay. He’s not just using you is he?”
Callah didn’t know exactly what was going on with her and Riley, but it was way more than the story in this morning’s paper. “No. I think he’s one of the good guys.”
Jen didn’t say anything for a minute, and Callah wondered what her friend was thinking.
“You’re not going to quit talking to me now that my name’s all over the papers again, are you?”
Jen laughed. “Shoot no. You’re bigger than ever out here. You wouldn’t believe some of the calls I’m getting. Speaking of which, I’m catching a flight out there tomorrow. I should be in Burkette sometime in the morning.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Callah tried to be excited. She should be. She needed Jen now more than ever, but she didn’t want her two worlds to collide. Not yet. Not when everything was so messed up.
“Don’t be silly,” Jen actually sounded excited about the trip, and Callah felt guilty at her reluctance. “I have the ticket, and I bought a pair of cowboy boots. I’ll be there tomorrow. Stay safe, hon.”
Ten minutes later Callah ducked out of her bedroom. She’d dressed herself in her oldest jeans and a Padre Island t-shirt that was so well worn it fit her like a second skin. Its soft material was nearly see-through.
Sexy. But not too sexy.
She hoped she drove Riley Sorenson as crazy as he drove her.
He deserved it. This time there was no way he could misinterpret her intentions.
His eyes widened and his sexy smile slipped firmly in place when she walked into the kitchen. Mission accomplished. She hoped.
“You wearing that out today?”
She shrugged. “You got a problem with that?”
He shook his head, whistled softly. “Hell, no. I just need to get my mind prepared if you are. That shirt is something else.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
His smile was wide as he patted his lap. “Come on over here and let me show you how much I like it.”
With that she laughed. He was too outrageous to take seriously. Besides, he needed to know their time alone was almost over. “My friend Jen will be here tomorrow morning.”
“Shoot.” He frowned. “Is that your way of telling me if I plan on getting lucky, I better get busy?”
She laughed again, thankful he was playing this game. Glad she felt pretty.
“I can’t talk about getting lucky without another cup of coffee.”
Only Riley stood and blocked her way to the pot. “Let’s stop talking about it then, Babe.” And then he pulled her close and let his lips set her on fire once again.
When he came up for air, she couldn’t help but continue the tease. “I really need that coffee.” Her words were breathless this time.
He laughed and let her go. “We’ve got all day, Callah. All day.”
She shivered at his promise because he was right. They had one last day alone to pretend everything was normal. At least until her father’s lawyers called. Or until the agents in front of her house knocked on the door. Or whatever else might happen to ruin this perfect moment.
The momentary flash blinded her and she ducked at the same time Riley cursed and slammed the curtain closed. All she could do was laugh because i
f the photographers were that close now, they definitely had a great picture of that kiss. And he had no one to blame but himself because he’d written the story that brought them out in droves this time.
“Welcome to my world, Riley. You better be ready. Tomorrow we’ll both be page one news.”
Chapter Ten
Well hell, if they were going to be headlining tomorrow’s gossip columns, Riley figured he might as well make it worth both their wiles.
“Forget the coffee, Callah,” he said, and then he claimed her mouth again.
Her lips were soft, pliant, and she opened for him without any coaxing. He brushed his tongue along her teeth, teased her gently, mimicking what would happen between them this day, no question about it.
Her soft moan echoed through the kitchen, and he answered with a moan of his own, then lowered his mouth to her neck, tasting the pulse there as he backed her against the wall.
“Riley, we can’t do this with reporters out there watching. Besides, we need to search for clues, see if we can’t figure something out.” Her voice was low, desperate, rough with desire.
“The curtains are closed, Callah. They can’t see a thing.” If they could, he didn’t give a damn. He pressed his hands under the edge of her paper-thin shirt, and closed his eyes when she gasped as his thumbs brushed across her hot, bare skin. He pushed her shirt higher, then lowered his mouth to her bra-covered breasts.
“Damn, Callah,” his hot breath caressed her skin as he whispered reverently when he took in the satin fabric keeping her from him. Carefully, he unclasped it, then pushed it from her arms, baring her fully before him.
He wanted her, wanted to bring her to climax again and again. Wanted to make her his in ways he’d never dreamed possible all those years earlier, but first he had to taste her. Now.
Callah shivered at the heat in his eyes and then nearly collapsed when he tenderly kneaded her breasts with his hot hands. When his mouth closed over her. When his teeth nicked first one nipple then the other.
She lost track of time, place, everything. Gasping, she arched into him, tried to get closer.
“Open your eyes, Callah.” His words were whiskey smooth, and his blue eyes burned with promise as she followed his command.
