The Promise of Surrender

by Liliana Hart

  He’d used agency resources, his men, and had made damned sure their mission territory had included Surrender, Montana. He was the commanding officer of a DEA taskforce, and no one questioned the orders he gave. They’d been stuck in the middle of nowhere for three years, building covers and gaining trust within different drug running communities. They were the good guys, but sometimes the lines blurred. They were a law unto themselves, forgotten by their brothers in blue who clocked in with regular shift work—unless someone got killed.

  It was Zeke’s job to make sure the men remembered that there was a law and not to blur it too much. And it was his job to make sure everyone under his watch stayed alive.

  His men would laugh like loons if they knew part of the reason for this mission was because of a woman. They’d call him pussy-whipped and any other names they could think of as they rolled their eyes. And then he’d have to knock some heads together just out of principal. Which was why his men were never going to find out.

  Sometimes situations were so complicated and pasts so entwined that it was hard to know where to begin to start separating the threads. And honestly, this was the only thing he could come up with.

  But he hadn’t been prepared for the jolt that had hit him square in the chest the second he saw her again. She’d occupied his dreams for almost seven years. He’d tried dating other women—Mia was the one who’d left him after all—but he found himself searching for women that reminded him of her. The only problem was Mia had always been unique. There was no one like her.

  Her appearance had changed, but by the steely look in her eyes, her temper had stayed very much the same. That temper had been making him go rock hard since the moment he’d met her. She could no longer pass for the role of the high school kid she’d played when she’d worked undercover. She was all woman, and a slow scan of her body did nothing to help relieve the throbbing pressure behind his zipper.

  She’d always been petite, topping just a couple inches over five feet. Her Italian heritage was strong, with clear olive skin and dark eyes fringed with thick lashes that reminded him of a gypsy that could bewitch with just a look. Her brows were thick and delicately arched, and she had a mane of dark hair that made him long to feel it across his skin once more.

  Her hair was longer than it had been the last time he’d seen her. And gone were the waves that had been the bane of her existence. It was thick and straight, and streaks of royal purple peaked between the black. He liked it. A lot. And high on his priority list was getting his hands in it.

  She wore a plain black tank top. Her arm was covered from shoulder to wrist with an intricate sleeve tattoo, and he could see she’d added to it since the last time he’d seen her. That arm told an entire story, and he wondered if she’d added him anywhere, or if he’d even mattered enough.

  Her breasts were full and filled out the tank nicely. In fact, she’d filled out everywhere nicely. Gone was the girlish figure she’d had for most of her twenties. The way her ass filled out those jeans made his mouth water, and he remembered what it felt like to cup each round globe in his hands.

  “Well, fuck,” she said.

  Her words pulled him back to the present. “It’s good to see you too, Mia.” His voice was husky and he cleared his throat. “I thought you told me you were getting as far away from this hell as you could? Looks like you didn’t make it very far.”

  She smiled and a lesser man would’ve felt his balls shrivel. “No,” she said politely. “I told you I was getting as far away from you as I could and to rot in hell.”

  He shrugged, unoffended. “An easy mix-up to make.” He matched her smile with one of his own, and for the first time in too long he felt the embers of excitement starting to flame into anticipation.

  That was the danger with working undercover. He’d been doing it for fifteen years. The fear wasn’t as strong as it had once been. He had to pay closer attention to the little signs and signals that his gut used to be better at picking up on. He’d known for a couple of years it was time to get out of the game. Before he ended up getting killed or getting one of his men killed. It had taken him forty years on earth to understand what was really important in life. And she was standing right in front of him. Now he just had to prove it to her. And it looked like it was going to be a hell of a job.

  Zeke looked at “Walker Barnes” and debated whether or not to rearrange his face for putting his hands on Mia. Or for just being an asshole in general. Whether he put a fist in his face or not, he could make the guy’s life miserable.

  “Take it back to headquarters, Baldwin. We’ll talk when I get back. You’re on unpaid leave until I can figure out what to do with you.”

  “What the hell? She just fucking tried to break my jaw.”

  “Every word she said is true. You pushed your way in here using intimidation and just being a dick. Your orders were simple. You’re the one who chose to take them in a different direction. I didn’t want you on my team to begin with, but didn’t figure you’d be this stupid if I actually let you out in public. You’re a disgrace to every cop that puts his life on the line. So you’ve got about three seconds before I don’t ask you to go so nicely,” Zeke said. “And if you ever touch her again you’ll get to see what it’s like to be someone’s bitch behind bars.”

  Zeke almost wished Baldwin would do something stupid. He could see it in the other man’s face. He had a quick temper, he wasn’t a team player, and Zeke had never trusted him. He didn’t deserve to carry a badge, but sometimes it was better to keep those people close where you could keep an eye on them. But Baldwin had lived out his usefulness and it was time for him to go.

  The other man shifted his feet so he was in a fighting stance, and Zeke just grinned. Maybe he’d get to punch the son of a bitch after all.

  “Baldwin,” Mia said, before tempers could ignite any more than they already had. “Take my advice and don’t be stupid. Have you ever seen Zeke fight? One punch and your skinny ass will be out cold. Leave with all your teeth intact and some of your dignity.”

  “Fuck you,” Baldwin said. “What makes a pawnshop cunt a cop expert? Unless you just fuck so many your pussy’s got radar.”

  “This pussy would tear you to shreds, little boy. I’m supreme cop bitch.” She took a step closer and looked Baldwin up and down from head to toe. “Let me guess. You’re a couple years out of the academy. Big city cop. But you’re impatient. Wanted the brass without the years or the work. Why does a big city cop run away with his tail tucked between his legs and end up in Nowhere, Montana?”

  Zeke was guessing Baldwin was too shocked by her accurate rundown to answer.

  “I might not be working the streets anymore,” she said, all serious now, “but some things never leave you. You’ll never be half the cop I was or that your commander is. And if you ever touch me again you won’t have to worry about being someone’s bitch in prison. You’ll be someone’s bitch in hell. Capisce?”

  Baldwin stared at her about two seconds before turning and walking out of the shop. He never made eye contact with Zeke. The chicken shit.

  “Christ, no one gives better parting lines than you,” he said, shaking his head. “You always had a mouth on you. And it always got you into trouble.”

  “And always got you out of trouble, if I remember right. What the hell are you doing here, Zeke? And what do you want from me?”

  It was a hell of a question. One that didn’t necessarily have just one answer. He made a decision and hoped it was the right one. They could deal with the other later.

  “You want to know why I came here?” he asked.

  Her eyes widened as he moved in and his hands went to the denim at her hips as he pushed her back against the counter. The pulse in her neck fluttered and he wanted to sink his teeth there. He wanted to sink into her every way he could.

  His lips stopped a hairsbreadth from her own and he could feel the warmth of her breath. “You can give me another one of those famous parting lines later,” h
e said. “But I’m going to do this first.”

  “This is a mistake, Zeke,” she whispered. Her lips parted and her hands came up to grasp at his shoulders.

  He whispered back, “Shut up and kiss me, Mia.”

  His lips covered hers—slanted over them, parted and invaded them. It was like coming home, and his body, mind, and soul recognized her as his. She’d always been his. Then the kiss turned from remembering and sweetness into something a little darker—a little edgier. It became more forceful, and he groaned as he felt the nip of her teeth against his bottom lip. She’d always been his match. In bed and out.

  Within seconds he was lifting her by the hips so her ass rested against the counter. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and even through the denim he could feel the heat of her and knew she’d be soaking wet and ready to take him. His cock was past the point of hard and he rocked against her, drinking in her mewling cries of pleasure.

  And then he did what he’d been wanting to since the minute he walked through her door. He grabbed the length of her hair and twisted it around his hand. He pulled her head back and she gasped in excitement as her throat was exposed to him. She’d always loved having her hair pulled.

  “God. This is such a bad idea. Pull it harder.”

  He grinned and his mouth roamed just below her ear. And then he did as she asked. She was a demanding woman. And damned if he wasn’t always happy to give her what she asked for.

  “It’s better than I remember,” he said against the flesh of her neck. “Hotter—wilder.”

  “We never had issues in this area,” she panted.

  “How about we take a trip down memory lane?” He pressed against her and he thought she might orgasm just from that small touch. Her nails bit into his shoulders and he looked around quickly, trying to decide where to take her. He finally decided right where they were on the counter was good enough for him. To hell with customers or the fact that it was broad daylight. They were both so close it wouldn’t last more than a few seconds anyway.

  His hand went to the button of her jeans just as the buzzer rang. He swore and dropped his head down on her shoulder, his breath heaving in his chest. It took her a few seconds to realize why he’d stopped, and he smiled at the dazed look on her face. The buzzer rang again and she nudged at his shoulder for him to move back. He was surprised to find his legs weren’t quite as steady as they should’ve been.

  “It’s probably for the best,” she said, moving back behind the counter and pulling her hair over her shoulder so the red marks on her neck didn’t show. “Eventually we’d have to get out of bed and talk. And I know that’s never been one of your favorite things.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Mia. I’ve got a whole lot to talk about. We can fuck and talk as much as you’d like. Seven years is long enough to run.”

  She looked at him somberly and Zeke felt something go cold in his chest. “Like you said earlier, I never ran very far. Which is why I asked what you’re doing here. Because if you’d really wanted me you’d have found me a long time ago.”

  He wanted to argue with her. To say all the things he’d said over and over again in his mind since the last time they’d seen each other. But it wasn’t the time.

  “I’ve always wanted you,” he said, gruffly. “But I’ve got my pride too. Maybe too much of it. You said you couldn’t stay and watch me die. Well guess what, sweetheart, it’s seven years later and I’m still here. Look at all the time you wasted.”

  He turned to walk to the exit but she stopped him. “Don’t forget your music box,” she said. “I’m assuming you’ll eventually tell me why you’re really here and why Barnes wanted the authentic piece so badly.”

  “Maybe he was just laying it on thick.”

  “Nope, that part he was genuine about. Never let that kid play poker. He’s got so many tells I could’ve filled up a book. It’s a good fake, by the way.”

  Zeke sighed knowingly and took the box. The buzzer rang again. “Riley MacKenzie’s wife works at the museum. She has a contact that can recreate certain pieces.”

  “Handy. Now if I only knew why you need the piece so much and why you think it’s going to show up at my shop.”

  The corner of his lip curled up in a smile and he changed the subject. “I should probably mention that Cooper MacKenzie has loaned me the use of the apartment above the Sheriff’s Office while we’re working this case.”

  “It’s nice to have friends in high places,” she said. “But it’s good to know you’ve proved my point.”

  “What point is that?”

  Her gaze went back to his and he saw so many things there—hurt, confusion, anger. “You didn’t come here for me. You’ve always been incredible at undercover work. I’m a job just like any other. It’s all you know. All you’ve ever known. Don’t forget that I’m the one person who can see past the man you pretend to be. “

  “Not this time. I’m not the man I used to be.”

  “You look the same to me. Same deceptions. Same games. Same techniques when it comes to getting me in bed. If you’re that hard up for sex just say so. No need for the lies. I can be accommodating. It’s been a while for me too.”

  “I’m not finished with you, Mia. Not by a long shot.”

  Mia hit the buzzer and two little old ladies shuffled through the door with a large box. Zeke passed them on the way out and reminded himself that sometimes things had to get worse before they could get better.

  Chapter Three

  Mia waited until dark to close the shop and head home. And she wasn’t afraid to admit it was out of sheer cowardice just to stay out of Zeke’s path a little longer. She needed the time to think. To try and remember all the things they’d fought about. To bring back that feeling of why she’d left to begin with. But all she could remember was how much she’d missed him. And how much she’d loved him.

  She’d had nonstop customers from the moment Zeke had left, and she hadn’t gotten the opportunity to take a closer look at the music box. There had to be some reason both bikers and cops would be looking for it. And no one was telling the truth. So she’d wrapped it with packing material and put it in her backpack. She had less chance of being interrupted at home.

  The moon was only a sliver in the sky and heavy clouds blocked the minimal light it gave. The wind cut through her thin jacket the moment she stepped out the back door and locked up, and she realized fall was coming to a close and winter was right behind it. It was pitch black and there were no sounds or car lights from the road. There were hardly any travelers along her stretch of road after dark anyway. It had never bothered her before. But tonight her senses were tingling.

  She carried her weapon down at her side and her backpack slung over her shoulder as she unlocked her 4x4 and got inside. Thoughts of the biker coming back with his brothers had never left her mind, and she sure as hell didn’t want to face them unarmed. Though in reality she’d be better off using the gun on herself rather than being passed between them.

  The drive into Surrender was quick and easy. The town was locked up tight for the most part. All the shops downtown were dark except for the gaslights that flickered along the walkways. There were lights coming from some of the apartments above the shops, including hers, but it looked like most of the action was happening down at Duffey’s Pub at the far end of Main Street.

  She rolled her window down and could hear the beat of the music from the live band. Cars littered the parking lot and every light imaginable was on, inside and out. Duffey’s wasn’t her scene, but still she was tempted to take a detour and head that direction. Drink a couple of beers, dance with a couple of ranch hands, and keep her mind off Zeke.

  But instead, she pulled into her parking space behind the building and climbed the stairs to the second floor. If she could get a cold beer and a shower then all would be right with the world. The only issue was the man sitting in her rocking chair.

  “I didn’t figure you’d want me going inside without you,” he
said, his smile easy. As if nothing more than a simple conversation had passed between them earlier. It was one of the things that had always driven her crazy about him. When he was over something, he was over it, and he moved on. Her emotions weren’t quite as settled.

  “You figured right,” she said. “I would’ve shot first and asked questions later.”

  “I thought that temper of yours would’ve settled over the years.”

  “Nope, I’m mean as a snake.”

  “That’s not what the ladies at the bakery downstairs said. Those are amazing cinnamon rolls, by the way.”

  “I know. Why are you here again? I figure if I keep asking you’ll eventually tell me.”

  “Don’t you want to know what the ladies had to say about you?”

  If she stood there looking at him too much longer she’d end up straddling his lap and throwing caution to the wind. He sent her body into overdrive—it didn’t matter that it had been seven years. Hell, when they’d been together it hadn’t mattered if he’d just taken her and she was still lying limp and sweaty beneath him. He always made her want him.

  He lounged back in the chair like a big jungle cat, and his eyes were predatory. If she let him inside she knew where they’d end up. Even from where she stood she could feel the arcs of electricity between them. Her nipples were hard and her skin tingled. And the rigid length of his cock was visible beneath his jeans. He wasn’t the least embarrassed to let her take her fill. He was a beautiful specimen of the male species. And he knew it.

  “What do you say, sweetheart? Are you going to invite me in or do you want to stay out here for everyone to see? Unless you want to try that again.”

  Her body flushed hot and she remembered very clearly a time when they’d been on a balcony in a hotel in Mexico. The sun was brutal and small beads of sweat snaked down the hollow between her breasts, but the cool, salty breeze tickled her skin and pebbled her flesh. Waves crashed onto shore and then ebbed back in a hypnotic dance, and couples lay out on the sand in languid splendor.