by Karen Kirst
“I don’t want to endanger you, either.”
“I’m trained to handle untenable situations. I have an excellent alarm system, complete with video surveillance. I’d be better able to protect you in my own home than in a hotel.”
“I didn’t ask you to be my bodyguard. If something terrible happened to you, I’d blame myself.”
“I can’t walk away, Tori. Please don’t ask me to.”
SEVEN
Tori couldn’t manage to do what she knew was best for Cade. She couldn’t tell him to leave her alone. That’s how she found herself in his home that afternoon.
Cade had ushered her through the garage and straight to the living room couch, where he’d insisted she stay. She didn’t have the energy to defy him. Her weariness was bone-deep, the result of operating on too much adrenaline in a short period. Or maybe it was the drug’s lingering effects. Her mind wasn’t sluggish, however. Couldn’t be when she was seeing her ex-fiancé’s home for the first time.
A new construction two-story, it had a stone-and-wood siding exterior that lent it a rustic feel. Inside, there were gleaming hardwood floors and high ceilings. Landscape portraits of seaside scenes brought punches of color to the neutral walls and furniture. Lamps placed around the room gave it a cozy glow, while conch shells, starfish and sculptures of seabirds were whimsical nods to the nearby ocean.
He set a cup of peppermint tea on the coffee table and, seeing her studying the room, grimaced. “I picked out the furniture. The decorations were Mom’s doing.”
He handed her a mug sporting the eagle-globe-and-anchor symbol and settled onto the couch’s opposite end.
“It’s serene,” she said. “And comfortable.”
“It’s a magazine spread,” he laughed. “And not the kind I actually buy.”
“Why don’t you change it?”
“I’m renting the house from a family stationed in Okinawa. Once I get around to buying my own place, I’ll put my stamp on it.”
He tapped the Jeep magazines stacked on the coffee table.
“I can read some fascinating articles on how to install fender flares or third-row seats to you. Or you can choose from my selection of military fiction.” He gestured to the built-in bookshelves on either side of the fireplace, where a dozen or so spines boasted titles promising intrigue and action.
During their high school years, he’d taken to reading to her from whatever book their English teacher had assigned. While the task had been meant to help him focus, it had helped distract her from her problems.
Rubbing her thumb over the mug, she recognized it as the same kind her mother had bought at the base exchange. Barbara had placed it in the kitchen window as a reminder of Thomas James—an accomplished, well-respected Force Recon Marine but a lousy husband and inconsistent father.
“You don’t have a copy of Jane Eyre laying around?”
His blue eyes gleaming, he shook his head. “Afraid not.”
“No Great Expectations?”
“If not for you, I wouldn’t have any books in the house.”
She experienced a pinprick of satisfaction. Knowing she’d played a small part in helping him become a reader—no matter what his choice of material—put a smile on her face.
Tori saw Cade’s gaze shift to her mouth. Had it been that long since she’d smiled? Around him, probably. Awareness flared deep inside like a match in an underground cave. Shared memories thickened the air between them. Tori missed the security of his embrace, the thrill of his kiss. She missed their friendship. They’d had the kind of bond she’d thought was indestructible.
For two people with separate strengths—the popular jock and the shy bookworm—they’d built a mutually beneficial friendship. She’d helped him with his schoolwork. He’d pushed her socially, urging her to attend dances and football games when she’d preferred to stay home, curled up in her reading nook. They’d been each other’s sounding boards. He’d vented about the family fishing business and his dad’s expectations. She’d poured out her frustrations—her parents’ fractious relationship, her father’s inability to keep his promises, the annoyances that came with having a toddler brother. He’d listened and commiserated, never judging. Cade had always told her the truth, whether she’d liked it or not.
In the decade since she’d been gone, she’d hoped and wished and prayed for another relationship like theirs. No one had come close. Certainly not Patrick.
Thoughts of that spectacular failure chased away her smile.
Cade folded his arms over his chest and watched as she sipped her tea. While she’d been taking a shower in his guest bathroom, he’d changed into a pair of jeans and a black, long-sleeved cotton shirt emblazoned with the letters USMC. He looked tired but strong, capable of addressing any threat that landed on their doorstep.
He noticed her reassessing the windows overlooking the front yard and the pair of French doors leading to the patio.
“The alarm system is activated.”
“I know.” She’d watched him do it.
Still, she felt unprepared. She didn’t own a gun. Didn’t know martial arts. She’d taken a self-defense class during her second year at university, but that had been years ago. Until now, she’d been living in a bubble, believing she’d be safe as long as she avoided the wrong areas of town and kept her wits about her.
She explored the fresh wrap on her wrist, which throbbed in time with her heartbeat. Fighting with Brandon had exacerbated the sprain. Her midsection was sore—probably from being carried like a sack of potatoes.
Her lungs seized anew with remembered panic.
Cade leaned in and covered her hand with his. His skin was hot to the touch, smooth in places and rough in others.
“We’re going to catch him. We have plenty of clues. We just have to give the authorities time to do their jobs.”
Tempted to cling to his hand, she disengaged and placed the mug on the table.
Linking his hands between his knees, he studied her from beneath hooded lids. “Tell me about Patrick.”
“We’re not discussing my romantic past. And I have no interest in hearing about yours, either.”
Over the years, her mother had informed her of every woman who’d cast her net for Cade and cheerfully reported every time he rebuffed their advances. He’d claimed he wasn’t interested in marriage. Barbara’s theory? He’d never gotten over Tori.
She didn’t buy it.
“This isn’t personal,” he said. “Maybe there’s a connection between him and your current trouble.”
“Because he’s a convicted criminal?”
“He’s proven he’s not above breaking the law.”
“Patrick’s not your basic street thug. He’s intelligent and ambitious.”
Cade snorted.
“Patrick was the last person I’d suspect of any sort of crime, let alone embezzlement.” She threw her hands up. “He had everything going for him. A solid career. Friends and family.”
“And you.” His face was completely devoid of emotion, blocking her from his thoughts. Surely this discussion was as strange for him as it was her. “How serious was it?”
“We had common interests.” Thinking back, she realized they’d spent a majority of their time together in the company of friends. Had that been his preference? Or perhaps an unconscious decision of hers? Either way, he hadn’t complained.
“Did you love him?”
Love him? She was beginning to suspect she wasn’t capable of loving any man but Cade. “That has nothing to do with this situation.”
He lifted his hands. “You’re right. None of my business.”
A thud outside the windows had Cade off the couch and reaching for his gun, a larger, meaner weapon than he’d had at the diner.
“You expecting someone?” she asked, her pulse skittering.
“Negative. Stay here.”
When he was out of sight, Tori got up and crept after him. The main entryway was around the corner from the living room.
His huff of surprise echoed to her. “It’s your mom.”
“What?”
A succession of beeps deactivated the alarm. Then he was welcoming Barbara James into his home.
Tori rushed to Cade’s side. Barbara handed him a large container. “Mom, you shouldn’t be here. Remember what I said at the hospital? I’m a danger magnet right now.”
“What mother is going to stay away from her child when she’s in need?” she chided. “I brought your favorite soup.” She patted Cade’s hand. “No chicken noodle for my girl. Italian wedding soup is the trick to making Tori feel better.”
“That was thoughtful of you,” he said and smiled for her benefit. He then did a quick scan of the street before closing the door and rearming the system.
The sight of her mom’s fingers evoked a wave of emotion inside Tori. The knuckles were swollen and the area around her nails puffy and purple. She hated what the disease was doing to her beautiful, loving mother. But she admired Barbara’s internal strength and unshakeable faith.
Tori hugged her. “You’re always putting others’ needs above your own.”
“A trait passed on from mother to daughter,” Cade said, admiration deepening his eyes to navy.
Pleasure warmed her. It had been a long time since Cade had looked at her like that.
In the kitchen, Cade poured coffee for Barbara and himself, while Tori nursed her tea.
“Your color’s better.” Seated on a stool at the center island, she patted the one beside her. Tori took the hint and sat.
“I feel almost normal,” she reassured her. “Your soup will restore me to one hundred percent.”
“The soup isn’t the real reason I wanted to see you. I came to tell you I’m canceling my birthday party.”
Tori shot off the seat. “Mom, more than a hundred guests have been invited. The venue’s booked. The catering paid for. Flowers. Music. You can’t cancel with less than twenty-four-hours’ notice.”
“I’m not celebrating my sixtieth without my daughter in attendance.”
Tori settled her hands atop Barbara’s shoulders. “Oh, Mom, you know I hate to miss it, but I don’t think it’s wise. Jason’s promised to take tons of photos and videos. And Cade’s mom is going to save us some cake.”
Barbara jutted her chin, and the battle light in her eyes meant she wouldn’t back down. “It’s inconvenient, I know. And you and Dee have been busy planning for weeks. But we have to postpone. I’ve discussed it with her, and she agrees. We’re going to make the calls tonight.”
Tori sent Cade a help-me-talk-sense-into-her look.
There was a pensive set to his jaw. “The party’s at the Topsail Inn, right? In a meeting space with a limited number of access points.”
“What are you thinking?”
He held up his cell. “Let me make a few calls.”
They waited in silence while he paced from fridge to stove and back. Ten minutes later, he flashed a tight smile. “I’ve lined up a few guys who’ve agreed to stand guard. Also, Deputy Clark does private security engagements on the side for a fee.”
Barbara’s face lit up. “Does this mean Tori can attend?”
“For an hour or two. And she stays at my side at all times.”
“You’re sure it’s safe?” Barbara’s excitement waned. “I don’t mind canceling, honestly.”
“I don’t want to put anyone in danger,” Tori said.
“The sketch of Brandon is being circulated on social media. My guess is he’ll go into hiding for a while. Two of my buddies are Special Forces, three are Infantry, like me, and one’s a pilot and martial arts instructor on the side.”
Tori slowly nodded. “With the deputy there, too, he won’t dare try anything.”
Barbara rushed to hug Cade. “Thank you. You’ve always been like a son to me.”
Over the top of Barbara’s head, Cade sent Tori an indecipherable look. Was he wondering if he’d made the right call? Or, like her, was he thinking he’d be an official part of the family if things had turned out differently?
Whatever the case, she couldn’t put into words how much she appreciated what he was doing for her and her mom. He was going above and beyond the call of duty, putting his safety on the line to ensure hers. Cade may have changed over the years, but he was still a hero at heart.
* * *
Sunday night, the party was in full swing when Cade ushered Tori inside the seaside inn as though she was a high-profile actress avoiding paparazzi. She didn’t have time to enjoy the ocean view or twinkly white lights in the arched canopy above the entrance. Inside the quaint lobby, he steered her down a wooden-paneled hallway on their left.
“What did you do, study the inn’s floor plans?”
“I asked a friend to scope out the venue.” As they drew closer to the meeting room, a stranger straightened from the wall opposite and stood like a sentinel, watching their approach.
Tori’s stride faltered. Well over six feet and built like a tank, he could’ve been a magazine model or a member of the criminal underworld. Like Cade, he wore a tailored dark suit that fell somewhere between black and navy, an expertly knotted tie and immaculate dress shoes.
Cade’s fingers tightened a fraction on her arm. “It’s all right. Julian’s part of your protection team.”
His black hair was cut short, as per military standards, but the close-cut beard threw her off. “He’s a civilian?”
“He’s Force Recon.”
“Like my father.”
“Yes.”
Cade greeted him with a hearty handshake. The man’s gaze settled on her, curious and assessing. There was a world of mystery behind those brown eyes.
“Tori, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Julian Tan.”
“Thank you for agreeing to come.”
“I’m happy to help. Besides, you got me out of a shopping trip with my sister. For that, I’m grateful.” His smile softened the angles of his face, which made him seem slightly less dangerous.
“Julian and I attend the same church. We’ve played on several basketball leagues together.”
Julian clapped Cade on the back. “I tried to convince him to join us over at Force Recon, to no avail.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I’m happy where I’m at.” He shrugged.
“A shame,” Julian said.
“Are the other guys in place?”
“Deputy Clark is patrolling the parking lot. The emergency exit is covered, as are the kitchen areas and restrooms. Your guy Johnson hasn’t showed.”
Cade’s forehead bunched. “That’s not like Brett.”
He sent off a text message before guiding Tori inside the room that had been transformed from a basic meeting space to an elegant oasis. She felt guilty for not being able to help Cade’s mom with last-minute preparations, but he had ruled it out of the question. Guests mingled while taking advantage of the hot buffet. She spotted her mom right away, chatting and laughing with her friends. The carefree delight on her face muted Tori’s disquiet.
Her mom deserved to have a memorable birthday.
“Who’s Johnson?”
Cade perused the room, his gaze going to the bank of windows overlooking the pier slicing into the Atlantic. “Staff Sergeant Brett Johnson. We met in boot camp.” He checked his phone and frowned. “We haven’t always been assigned to the same units, but we’ve kept in touch. We started working together again about eighteen months ago. He was supposed to help out tonight.”
“Maybe he changed his mind.”
“Maybe.”
Chilled air from an overhead vent washed over her, raising goose bumps on her skin. Cade noticed
her subtle shiver and deftly removed his suit jacket. Moving close, he draped it over her shoulders.
“Better?”
Tori nodded, the material’s warmth cocooning her. She lifted her hands to hold the lapels together, and her fingers tangled with his. Their gazes caught and held. His mouth curved in an enigmatic smile before he lowered his hands to his sides.
Tori reminded herself that they weren’t a couple out on a date. They weren’t even together by choice. They’d been thrust into this storm and had no other option but to ride it out together.
“Let’s go say hello to our mothers,” he said, choosing to ignore the charged moment.
They were weaving through the sea of round tables when he received a call. His brows descending, he showed her the screen. “It’s Claxton.”
Tori listened to the brief, one-sided conversation. Cade’s features hardened.
“They got a tip,” he told her. “Brandon’s real name is Aaron Waters. Former Marine Corps sergeant. He enlisted as an infantryman, but was pulled to Special Forces five years ago. Eighteen months ago, he sustained a shoulder injury that took three surgeries to correct. Marine Corps let him go via medical discharge in January, and he wasn’t at all happy about it.”
“We’re dealing with a disgruntled, highly skilled Marine,” she said. The photo Claxton texted to Cade showed a younger version of her attacker.
“Knowing his identity is a step in the right direction. They’ll dig into his past. Find out who his friends are and maybe where he’s been living since he was discharged.”
Tearing her gaze away from the image, she said, “I still don’t understand what he wants with me. If he wanted to kill me, he had the chance to do it in my apartment.”
“It’s possible he’s part of a human trafficking ring. Maybe he lives in your area and became fixated on you. What other businesses do you frequent besides the bank?”
“I’ve been to the seafood market once or twice. The park a handful of times. I haven’t spent too much time exploring.”
“And you don’t remember him? He hasn’t come into The Canine Companion?”
“Not that I recall.”
