by Cindi Myers
She gripped his biceps and arched to him, the sensitive tips of her breasts pressed into his muscular chest. “What are you doing to me?” she whispered.
“I want you.” He nipped at her neck, just beneath her ear, his words as much as his touch sending a tremor through her. “But I don’t want to rush you. We’ve got all night. Or longer, if you need it.”
All she needed right now was him. All her fears and worries seemed petty in the face of that fundamental longing. Tomorrow or the next day or next week or next month he might leave her, but tonight they were together, and she knew if she pushed him away now, she would regret it for the rest of her life. She rose on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. “Let me check on Ian,” she said.
He followed her into the cabin’s front room, where they found Ian asleep on the sofa, curled on his side, Jack’s phone still in his hand. Jack retrieved the phone, then added wood to the fire while Andrea covered her son with a blanket. Then Jack took her hand and led her into the bedroom. “We’ll hear him if he wakes,” he said.
“He probably won’t even stir,” she said. “He’s always been a hard sleeper. Nothing to trouble his dreams, I guess.” Unlike her. Many of her nights were restless.
“Does he miss his father?” Jack asked.
His genuine concern for the boy touched her. “I don’t think he really remembers Preston. I keep his picture in Ian’s room and Ian asks about him sometimes, but the way he might ask me about an actor on TV or a character in his favorite storybook. Now that he’s in school and he hears other children talk about their dads, I think he’s more curious about the idea of a father.” Some of those conversations were so painful, trying to explain to Ian why other boys had fathers and he didn’t.
Jack massaged the back of her neck, kneading at the knotted muscles. “Do you miss Preston?”
“Sometimes.” She let out a deep breath, trying to release the tension inside her, too. “I miss what we had when we first married. That sense of being the most important person in the world to someone else. Later on, after he made detective and joined the drug task force, we lost some of that closeness. I felt as if Ian and I only got whatever energy Preston had left over from the job.”
“The job has a way of sucking some people in,” he said. “The excitement and the feeling that you’re making a difference can be a real rush. Home life can seem dull in comparison.”
“I’m not blaming him,” she said. “I expected too much of him sometimes and didn’t try hard enough to see things from his perspective. Counseling other spouses of law enforcement officers has taught me so much. It’s the regrets that trouble me now more than the grief.”
He put his arms around her and pulled her close. She welcomed the embrace and laid her head on his chest, the steady beat of his heart a calming rhythm. “I think whenever a relationship ends unexpectedly, we try to understand and cope by playing that what-if game,” he said. “What if I had said this or done that or not done or said those other things?” His lips brushed the top of her head. “But that’s a game you can’t win. You can’t change the past.”
“So I’m fond of telling my clients.” She pulled away enough to look up at him. “I also tell them they can’t control the future, so it’s important to focus on the now.”
“That word again. Focus.” He slid his hands down to rest at the small of her back, pulling her tight against him. The hard ridge of his erection nudged at her belly, leaving no doubt of his feelings for her. “I can think of a few things I’d like to focus on right now.”
“Oh?”
“I’d like to focus here.” He slid one hand up to stroke the side of her breast, sending ripples of pleasure through her. “Or here.” He arched against her, letting her feel the evidence of his desire. “And here.” He slid his thigh between her legs, pressing against the center of her arousal.
“Those...those all sound like good ideas,” she gasped. She pulled his head down and found his lips, blotting out her nervousness with a long, drugging kiss. Then he was pulling her down onto the mattress, laying her back and half covering her with his body. The bed was made now, with fresh sheets and blankets. Jack must have done this, perhaps while she was napping on the sofa. Was it because he’d planned to bring her here later, or merely because he had wanted a comfortable bed for the night?
And then the answer didn’t matter as he slid his hand beneath the sweatshirt, reclaiming her full attention. He skimmed his hand up her thigh and over her stomach to caress her breast. She tugged at his shirt until he lifted enough for her to push it up so that she could run her hands over the smooth muscles of his abdomen and chest. A fine dusting of hair tickled her palms as she traced the outline of his pecs, and his nipples pebbled at her touch.
He sat up and removed his shirt, then helped her out of hers, as well. His gaze lingered on her so long she began to feel self-conscious, and she tried to cross her arms over her breasts, but he pulled her hands away. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “So beautiful,” he murmured again as he bent and drew one taut peak into his mouth.
Desire lanced through her, sharp and urgent. She bit her knuckle to stifle her cry and bowed her body against him. He slid his hand under her back, pulling her closer, and transferred his attention to her other breast. To be held this way, so intimately and tenderly, after too many years alone made her eyes burn with threatening tears. Then he raked his teeth across her sensitive nipple and any lingering sadness fled. Skimming her hand down his torso, she fumbled for the drawstring of his sweat pants, aware of the hard length of him straining at the fabric.
He shoved her hand out of the way and slid back from her long enough to strip off his pants, then removed her panties, as well. She gasped at the rush of cool air across her naked flesh and then he was beside her once more, cupping between her legs, one finger parting her folds, his touch warming and exciting her until she was panting with need.
She reached for him, wrapping her fingers around his erection and smiling when his breath caught. “Don’t make me wait any longer,” she said.
In answer, he pushed onto his knees and reached for his gym bag beside the bed. He pulled out a condom package. She laughed. “Do you always travel so prepared?” she asked.
“This has probably been in there for years,” he said. “From the days when I was either a little more active or maybe just more optimistic.”
She was prepared to tease him more, but he ripped open the package and sheathed himself. Watching him made her mouth grow dry and she lost the power of speech. He arched over her, kneeling between her legs. “Are you ready?” he asked, caressing her hip.
“So ready,” she breathed, and opened to welcome him in.
The intensity of his passion didn’t surprise her, for it matched the power of her own need. But the tenderness with which he touched her moved her even more, as if he cherished as much as desired her. They began slowly, savoring the feel of each other’s bodies, hands and mouths continuing to explore and excite.
But they could hold back only so long and soon they were moving in an urgent rhythm, one that was both familiar and brand-new. Her last nervousness vanished and she began a quick climb toward a climax that overwhelmed her with its intensity. The shock waves of her orgasm were still moving through her when he found his own release, and they clung to each other tightly for long moments afterward, until their heartbeats slowed and they came back to themselves.
He lay beside her, her head pillowed in the hollow of his shoulder. This, too, felt so right and comfortable. She had known Preston for over a year before she’d felt this comfortable with him. Was that only because she had been younger then, or was it because of Jack himself?
“What are you thinking?” he asked, gently squeezing her shoulder.
“Do you know why I agreed to go to lunch with you the other day?” she asked.
“Because of my g
ood looks and charm?”
“Well, that may have had something to do with it, but it’s not the main reason.”
“What’s the main reason, then?”
“You said you thought I would be good company.” Did that confession make her sound pathetic? She plunged on. “You didn’t try to flatter me by complimenting my looks or telling me what good company you’d be. You made me believe you thought I was worth listening to.”
His arm tightened around her. “I do believe that,” he said. “Do you know why I asked you to lunch?”
“You said it was because you were bored and lonely.” She had to admit that had helped persuade her, too—nothing like a big, strong guy being a little vulnerable.
“I was. But it was more that in the hour we spent together in your office, I sensed a connection. Something that wasn’t just about a doctor-patient relationship. I hadn’t felt that with a woman before and I wanted to experience it a little longer and see where it went.”
And they had ended up here, in bed together, though the route they had taken to get here was anything but conventional. “Being with you is easy for me,” she said. “I can’t say that about any other man I’ve met lately. Maybe it’s because you’re a good listener.”
“Not always. But I like looking at you and listening to you.”
She liked listening to him, too, and thought—maybe—he might be a man she never tired of listening to. That was a good start for a relationship, right? She’d have to see if she felt the same way when her and Ian’s lives were no longer in danger, when Jack wasn’t merely their best protection, but a man she wanted in her life as much as she needed him.
* * *
JACK WOKE BEFORE DAWN, the warm weight of Andrea curled beside him already familiar and right. In the midst of such a crazy, dangerous situation, he felt more at peace with her than he had in months. The soft sigh of her breathing was the only sound in the early-morning quiet. A glance toward the window showed a swath of pale blue sky, with no sign of storm clouds. Careful not to wake her, he eased out of bed and began to dress.
He slipped into the kitchen to make coffee, and when he returned from the bathroom to retrieve his shoes, she was sitting up in bed, the covers pulled up over her chest, a sleepy smile on her face. “Do you always get up this early?” she asked, her voice soft and quiet.
“The snow has stopped and plows should clear the road soon.” He pulled on his shirt and began buttoning it. “I want to search the camp before we have to leave.”
She drew up her knees and hugged them to her chest. “I thought you said the Bureau is sending in a team this afternoon to search.”
“They are. But I want to see if I can find anything first.” He knelt to tie the laces of his shoes. “I won’t be long.”
“Be careful,” she said. “Preston used to tell stories about drug dealers and smugglers booby-trapping their hideouts. And that netting I was caught in may not be the worst trap Anderson and his buddies set.”
“I will.” He bent to kiss her. She slid her hand around his neck and pulled him close when he tried to move away. Desire heated his blood once more. “You’re tempting me to stay,” he murmured, nibbling at the side of her mouth.
“I just wanted to give you something to think about while you were gone.” She smiled, then released him with a show of reluctance. “I know a little boy who’s probably going to wake up soon, so I’d better be there for him when he does.”
“I’ll definitely be thinking about you.” He rose and left the room, stopping in the kitchen to pour the coffee. As he worked, he heard her come out of the bedroom.
“Hi, Mama,” a sleepy voice greeted her.
“Did you sleep well, pumpkin?” she asked.
“Uh-huh. Is Jack still here?”
“I’m here, buddy.” A cup of coffee in each hand, Jack moved into the living room. He handed one cup to Andrea and sipped from the other. “I’m going out to check on a few things,” he told Ian. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Can I go with you?” Ian asked.
“Not right now. Somebody has to stay here with your mom.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “I’ll be back in time for breakfast.”
Ian looked as if he wanted to argue, but Andrea said, “Let’s go brush your teeth and then you can help me decide what to cook for breakfast.”
Jack stepped out into sharp air, heavy with the scents of ponderosa pine and wood smoke. The sun was sending its first rays over the tops of the trees, revealing buildings shrouded in snow, their outlines softened and the drabness disguised by the cloak of winter white. He tried to imagine what the camp must have looked like in its heyday, with wader-clad fishermen gathering to cast their flies for the rainbow and brown trout that populated the river behind the cabins. He’d like to come back here to fish one day, maybe with Ian in tow. Jack would show the boy how to choose a fly and cast into the deep pools where the trout liked to linger. Andrea would be in the scene, too, perhaps with a younger child in her arms...
Where had that come from? He shook off the daydream and drained the coffee cup, then set it on the porch railing. He and Andrea and the boy needed to leave right after breakfast in case Anderson and his men elected to come back with reinforcements. He decided to start in the ruins of the office. The group appeared to have been using it as some kind of headquarters, and he hoped to find a safe or something in the ashes that might give a clue to their purpose here beyond holding Ian hostage.
Snow crunched under his boots as he made his way across the compound, and the bitter smell of char and ash stung his nose as he approached the ruins. He played the beam of his flashlight over the charred timbers and blackened plumbing. Careful not to disturb the scene, he moved to the front room, where Gravel Voice had been shot, but found no sign of a body. Springs from the sofa and the wheels of an office chair jutted up from the debris, but there was no sign of the dead man. If he had, indeed, died.
Had Anderson and Leo taken their boss with them when they left? Maybe the man’s identity would provide a link to them that they didn’t want authorities to discover. If so, he hadn’t followed them out of the car when it stalled on the bridge. Jack would have to alert the team to look for it.
He didn’t spot a safe or anything else useful in the burned-out ruins, so he moved on to the first cabin in the semicircle. Though he had briefly explored all the buildings yesterday after they had returned to camp, this morning he wanted to take a closer look to see if he could unearth more evidence. Special Agent in Charge Blessing would have lectured him on the need to wait for the professional evidence team, but Jack didn’t want to lose his chance to be a vital part of the investigation again. Once he and Andrea left here, he had more weeks of medical leave that would put him further and further out of the loop. If he found important clues today, he’d have more leverage when it came to being included in updates about the investigation.
He worked his way down the row of cabins. All of them were unlocked, and the first two appeared to have been unoccupied for years, dust thick on the tops of tables and windowsills. A pack rat had built a nest in the bedroom of one, a massive, messy pile full of scraps of paper, bent silverware and old fishing lures. Definitely let the pros tackle that mess. For now, he wanted a better look at the cabin where Anderson had been staying.
Like the others in the camp, Anderson’s cabin, in the middle of the semicircle, was a simple plank-sided structure with a small front porch and a bedroom, bathroom and kitchen lined up behind a larger front room. As Jack stepped into the front room, a mouse skittered away from an open bag of potato chips that lay on the floor by one of the armchairs.
The kitchen yielded only dirty dishes piled in the sink, the refrigerator stocked with cold cuts and cheap beer. The bathroom held only a towel and a used disposable razor. Jack moved on to the bedroom. Like the rest of the cabin, it was in disarray, b
edclothes trailing to the floor, dresser drawers half-open to reveal a few T-shirts and some underwear and socks. Studying the scene, Jack felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. There was something important here, he sensed. Something he needed to see.
He tugged the blanket the rest of the way off the bed, then pulled off the sheet and tossed it aside, too. Unlike the mattress on the floor in the cabin where he had spent the night, this room contained an iron bed frame with a mattress and box spring. Jack bent and shone his light beneath the frame. Something dark and bulky was shoved far back, against the wall.
He had to lie on his stomach to retrieve the item, which proved to be a backpack—the kind used by hikers and campers. It looked fairly new and unworn, so he doubted it had been forgotten by some long-ago visitor to the camp.
He deposited the pack on the mattress and unzipped the main compartment. His light revealed a handgun, a cigarette lighter, a spiral notebook and a sheaf of papers bound together with a rubber band. Definitely worth checking out. He slung the pack over one shoulder and left the building.
Andrea greeted him at the door of the end cabin when he worked his way back to it. “I was getting a little worried,” she said.
“No worries.” He kissed her cheek, surprised by how good it felt to have someone worry about him and welcome him back. He’d always dismissed such sentiments as unimportant, but now he saw he’d been wrong. Whereas before, the mission had been the most important thing in his mind, now coming home after the work was done was also a priority.
“Where did you get the backpack?” she asked as he moved past her into the cabin.
“I found it in the cabin where Anderson was staying. I didn’t see it yesterday, because it was under the bed. I thought I’d bring it in here for a closer look.”
