Last Call: A Camden Ranch Novel

by Jillian Neal

  “I couldn’t listen to any more of your whining about what he was making you do. I had to do something.”

  “I bet that wasn’t it.” Natalie’s lips landed on the scar under his beard. For a brief moment, the memory of it was erased as well. “I’ll be right back.” She grabbed her purse and headed to the bathroom.

  “My God, she’s gorgeous.” T leapt as soon as she was out of earshot.

  “I know.”

  “She’s good for you.” Griff’s earnest vow was weighted with importance.

  “I need to be good for her.”

  “Tell me what you know about this guy who hurt her?”

  “Not much. Whoever he is he was on Camden ranch when she was eleven.”

  “Are you fucking saying she was eleven when whatever happened, happened?” Griff growled.

  Aaron nodded. “Now you know why I want to kill this bastard with my bare hands.” The Sevens all nodded. “Possibly a family member but I can’t come up with who that would be. Could also have been some kind of ranch hand she thought of as family. It was definitely someone she trusted at some point. I had her brother softened up last night but we got interrupted before he gave me anything actionable. I’m betting he’ll go cold now.”

  “If you know he was on her ranch when she was eleven all I need to know is how old she is now. Get me all the info you can on her and I’ll find this fucker,” Smith vowed.

  Before their lives had been blown to hell, Smith had been one hell of a communications sergeant. He could make anything from an old school CB radio to the latest greatest satellite comm unit sing for him. Hell, Aaron would put good money on him being able to rig up some kind of communication device out of conch shells and rubber bands. There was a reason they called him Echo.

  “Before she gets back, who owns this ranch?” T leapt into action. The remaining members of the Sevens all took out their phones.

  “Been in the family for generations. The kids all own a portion of it. Everett and Jessie Camden are her parents. I’m betting the entire thing is really in their name and parceled out to the kids.”

  “What’s her middle name?”

  “Uh, it’s Jessica, after her mom.”

  “Birthday?”

  Aaron had taken Natalie out to the lake to hang out with her siblings and some of their friends last year for her birthday. “Shit, it’s soon. September twenty-first maybe.”

  “Better memorize that real quick-like, A.” Griff chuckled as he typed. “Do not want to fuck that up and it’s in three weeks.”

  “Noted.”

  “Natalie Jessica Camden born September 20th right here at St. Elizabeth’s. Father is Everett Lucas Camden. Mother is Jessica Suzanne Camden. Would that be her?” T-Byrd held up his phone displaying a copy of Natalie’s birth certificate.

  “That’s her. How’d you find that so quick?”

  “She’s got nothing to hide. She isn’t camped out under a rock in the Middle East. It’s a lot easier to do what we’re doing now than what we did before.”

  “We’re taking this job pro-bono, T, hope you know that,” Voodoo declared.

  “I already told him we were,” T huffed.

  “You can’t let her know I asked for your help,” Aaron warned.

  “Dude, we have been in and out of countries without my mama even knowing we were out of the driveway. We can be discreet.”

  “Whoever hurt her is going down,” Griff vowed.

  “Here she comes,” Smith spoke through his teeth.

  “You’re so full of shit,” Aaron laughed like they’d continued on with their reminiscing while she was gone. Just as they’d always done, the Sevens joined his laughter, playing right along. They’d never let him down.

  “I get why they’re your family, Aaron. They’re great.” The hours of fascinating conversation that evening spun round and round in Natalie’s head as Aaron drove them back to Pleasant Glen. She had so many questions. Questions she knew she had no business asking him.

  “They thought you were pretty awesome, too. Thanks for going with me. I liked having you there.”

  “You sound surprised,” Natalie teased him.

  “You know how you told me last night that you shouldn’t have liked me holding your hands against the wall like I did?”

  Natalie nodded.

  “I shouldn’t have liked you being there. Those stories get to me sometimes but tonight, they didn’t bother me.”

  “Do you think that means maybe we’re good for each other?”

  Aaron squeezed her hand. “Yeah, maybe. Not sure how good I am for you, but I’m trying.”

  “I’m really glad I asked you to sleep with me.” Natalie prayed the moon outside her window didn’t reveal the streaks of heat in her cheeks.

  “Trust me, sweetheart, I’m really glad you did, too.”

  Raking her teeth across her bottom lip for the fourth time, she tried to come up with something to ask that would explain exactly how he’d gotten PTSD. She’d read everything she could find on it for most of the day. She wanted to help him. She just had no idea how to do that.

  “So, um, when did you all decide to get out of the Army?”

  “Didn’t exactly decide that.” His voice was suddenly hollow. He pulled his hand away from hers and put it back on the steering wheel. It didn’t appear that he’d even noticed he’d done it. Definitely not a good question.

  There were seven identical military-looking stars tattooed from his left wrist to his elbow. “Are your star tattoos for the Sevens? That’s such a cool way to memorialize everything you all must’ve accomplished together.”

  His long eyelashes made three quick blinks. A harsh swallow contracted the muscles in his neck. His Adam’s apple bobbed like he was choking back an answer. “Kind of,” escaped his lips before they sealed shut again.

  “I won’t ask anything else. I’m sorry.” Way to go, Nat. You really are an idiot.

  “No. Fuck. I’m the one that’s sorry. It’s just…you know that thing you refuse to tell me?”

  “You aren’t telling me because I won’t tell you what happened to me?”

  “God no, it’s just we both have shit in our pasts we don’t want to talk about. All those stories they told you tonight, those were the good times. Times weren’t always good.”

  “I’m really sorry for whatever happened, Aaron.”

  “Yeah, me too, baby. For both of us.”

  “So, they all own a business together now or something? That’s what it sounded like.”

  “Yeah, T got the brilliant idea to open a security firm. They’re pretty much just glorified P.I.’s as far as I can tell. They love it though.” He shrugged.

  “Is it bad that I’m glad you work at Saddlebacks and not with them?”

  “Not at all. I’m glad you like having me around, sweetness. And don’t worry, I don’t want to have anything to do with any kind of profession that requires me to carry a gun ever again. I love the Glen. It reminds me of one of my favorite places growing up. Our tiny town definitely does not need a P.I, so I’m good tending bar.”

  “Except for when Ed and Eliza start in on each other.”

  “They drive me crazy but it’s worth it.” He returned his hand to hers. Natalie grinned.

  “Did you see how Voodoo kept trying to flirt with our waitress and she kept shooting him down?” She ventured back to safer ground.

  A haunted smile returned to Aaron’s features. The effort that must’ve taken physically affected Natalie. Her chest ached for all he’d been through. “I saw him. Did you see him slip his number in when he signed his check?”

  “I didn’t see him do that. What did she do?”

  “Rolled her eyes. Voodoo has probably been a womanizer since preschool. Needs somebody to settle his ass down. We were on the same chopper when we got sent to Ramstein. I came to for a few minutes and Voodoo’s strung out on painkillers but still trying to flirt with the doctor who’s redoing the stitches he gave himself.”

&n
bsp; Natalie forced a slight chuckle. What was Ramstein? She needed to remember so she could search for it later. The words, came to, painkillers, and stitches he gave himself churned in her stomach. “I’m glad you’re okay. Scares me to think about you not being okay.”

  Aaron’s seeking gaze finally landed on hers. “I’m fine.”

  “I always say that, too.” Her voice was devoid of any emotion or any volume. He didn’t respond. Determined to find some way to help him, she refused to be deterred from the plan she’d come up with when she’d stumbled upon a medical website that outlined the sleeplessness and nightmares that were common with PTSD.

  The darkened ranch was almost silent when Aaron drove them through the gates. The occasional bellow of a cow and screech of a hawk just weren’t soothing that night. Unable to work out the best way to ask this, she decided to just let the words leap off her tongue. She was sure to mess it up anyway.

  They neared her house. “Uh, I was thinking…”

  “I’m hoping the next words out of your mouth are about kissing you again.”

  “Well, yes, but no.”

  “Gonna need a little help with that answer, Nat.”

  “I was thinking I’d really like you to stay with me tonight.”

  The rapid, rhythmic clicks of Aaron’s parking brake echoed inside her skull. “You want me to stay here tonight?”

  She knew enough about Aaron to know without a doubt he would never stay if he thought she was doing this for him, and he would never turn her down if he thought she needed him to stay. He would always come to her rescue. He would always keep her safe. Triple A through and through.

  “It’s just sometimes I have weird dreams. When I was a little girl, my therapist said it was my brain trying to heal or make sense of…everything. Sometimes I can sense when I’m going to have one before I even get into bed. Kind of feels like carrying around a ghost that you can’t get rid of. It feels like it’s bigger than my body. I can’t contain it but it won’t go away. When I’m with you, I feel safe.” That was all true. She wondered if he carried around ghosts as well.

  “Come here to me.”

  Before she understood what was happening, he’d scooped her into his lap. She nestled her head into his neck as he cradled her in the soothing warmth of his arms. Maybe staying with her wasn’t all for him. Maybe she needed this as well.

  “Baby, I’ll stay with you as long as you need me to. I swear to you I will never let anything or anyone hurt or scare you ever again.”

  “I know.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Aaron Weber was standing in her bedroom staring at her bed. Nervous energy trilled through Natalie’s stomach. Then it did a few unnecessary somersaults, which weren’t in anyway helpful in this situation.

  “We can sleep together the real way if you want.” Her words were without conviction. She knew he wouldn’t take her up on the offer.

  “Not tonight.”

  The ocean blue of his eyes was heavy with concern. He stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. Her eyes fluttered closed. She reveled in his tender touch.

  She had no idea how to go from fully clothed to her torn pajama pants with him there. She had no clue what he normally slept in, or what side of the bed he might want, or what would happen in the morning. All she knew in that moment was there was nowhere else she wanted to be.

  “I probably have one of Luke or Grant’s old T-shirts around here, if you want to change.”

  “I don’t wear much to bed. That okay with you? I could just sleep in my clothes. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

  “I won’t be.” Holy crap, what did much mean exactly?

  “You sure? I want you to sleep, baby, not worry about me. Spent more nights than not sleeping in the sand. I’m good.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “And what does my beautiful cowgirl sleep in?”

  “Nothing particularly sexy or anything. Usually a T-shirt that says Buck Off.”

  Aaron’s half-smirk and the glimmer in his eyes made their return. Natalie rejoiced at their appearance. His rumbled chuckle shot sparks of heat straight to her core. “You have any fucking idea how sexy you’d be in nothing but one of my T-shirts?”

  A shiver worked through her as his hands gripped her ass, bringing her to him.

  “Kiss me.” His commanding thrum made her weak. The emptiness she’d grown so accustomed to it had taken on a numbing effect as of late ached to be filled.

  His hungry lips found hers and she swore the wet heat from his mouth was nothing compared to what was flowing between her legs. Her stomach hollowed as he coaxed her tongue into his mouth. A whirlwind of desperate need whipped through her.

  His fingers worked under the tight knit shirt she was wearing. Delicious heat flowed from his palms to her back. He lifted the shirt slowly as if every inch was a question of consent.

  Natalie prayed her moans of approval were answer enough. Her heartbeat flew faster than Sundance at full gallop. His potent erection pressed into the cradle of her hips. Uncertain what she was doing, she rubbed against him letting her body take what it wanted, what would feel so good. Her mind was hazy with lust.

  “Fuck,” he grunted. “Not tonight, baby. Soon. Jesus Christ, it’s gonna be soon. I swear.”

  His hands landed on the strap of her bra. She shook as he expertly popped the clasp.

  “I want a taste, Nat. I need a taste. Give me a taste, honey.”

  “Yes,” flew from her tongue a split second before her shirt landed on the floor. He moved the ministrations of his tongue to the top swells of her breasts, easing the bra down her arms.

  Her back arched in invitation. Her body rolled against his. A wave of nervous energy broke over her but desire to feel his hands and his mouth on her skin washed it away. The waffle-weave of his shirt abraded her tender skin. One tiny brain cell that was capable of any thought at all insisted this wasn’t fair.

  Tugging his shirt from the waistband of his jeans, she wanted to feel the ripple of his muscles under her touch. He gripped her hands. “Not yet, honey.” His expression was loaded with undiluted need. His fingertips raced across her chest. “So fucking gorgeous.”

  Before she could process his declaration, his mouth encapsulated her left nipple drawing it to a hot stiff peak.

  A knot of pressure pulsated behind her mound. How was he doing that with his mouth on her breasts? “Oh my God,” she whimpered.

  “That feel good? Tell me, baby.”

  “Yes.” She had no capacity to answer with more than single word responses.

  He returned to her left breast, kissing a trail of fire around her pulsating nipple.

  “You need more don’t you?”

  “Please,” came from her next.

  He lifted his head. The victorious gleam in his eyes let her know what he was thinking before he spoke. “Told you I’d make you beg. Every single time we’re together, I’ll make you so needy you plead for more.”

  Narrowing her eyes she drove her fingers through his thick black hair and shoved his head back to her breasts.

  He licked and suckled before chuckling. “And there’s that cowgirl spite. Drives me wild.”

  Every nerve ending in her body sizzled. Her skin was raw. Pressure mounted constantly. She had no specific knowledge of what she desperately wanted, other than her favorite vibrator, which seemed woefully inept when she compared it to the man standing before her, solid muscle, heat, and might. She wanted more of whatever he had in mind.

  His hands returned to her ass. With every grope he drove her body against his erection. She hummed out a needy approval. When his hands traveled around her waist and popped the snap on her jeans, she panicked.

  “Aaron,” her voice vibrated through her lips. “What happens next?” Shame burned through her. She should know this. She should know some way to make him feel as needy as she did. He wouldn’t let her touch his skin. Desperation for contact joined the embarrassment swamping through her veins. She wan
ted to hide.

  He lifted his head and cradled her face in his capable hands. The fire in his eyes had softened. A little of his earlier intensity had slipped away. “What do you want to happen next, sweetheart?”

  “I want you to take your shirt off, too.”

  “I’m pretty intent on getting you out of those blue jeans. Can I do that first?”

  As soon as he stripped his scars would be visible. This night wasn’t about him. This was about her exploring with him. Bullet wounds would have no part of this experience. She’d finally admitted that she was scared. Come hell or high water he was going to prove himself to her. He would show her that he would always keep her safe. Her inevitable questions about what had happened to him wouldn’t distract him from his mission.

  She offered up a hesitant nod. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. Her fists were in knots by her side. Her nipples were drawn in tightened buds, flushed the most perfect shade of a ripened peach. Aaron suspected that was from fear not arousal at this point. My God what had that bastard done to her?

  Treading with more care than he’d take to walk through a minefield, he eased her back into his arms. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m right here.” He had to teach her to trust him. Her standing before him in nothing but a pair of worn Wranglers and cowgirl boots had all but done him in, but he refused to rush her as badly as he wanted to.

  Dipping his hands down the back of her open jeans and the innocent cotton panties she was wearing, he groaned out his hunger. Cupping her perfect asscheeks, he let his mind conjure what she would look like naked before him but he kept her covered, exposing nothing to his starving eyes.

  He needed her drunk on him, needed her to forget everything that had come before this moment. “This okay?”

  “God yes.” She came back to the present. Elation rode on the tidal wave of blood surging straight to his cock.

  “Can I see you, baby?”

  A slight tremble led to a nod.

  “Step out of your boots for me.”

  She did as she was told. Her gaze seeking as she toed out of the boots.