Do-or-Die Bridesmaid

by Julie Miller

  Finally. There was the real smile he wanted to see. “You broke all of them?”

  “Except for that one. Mom changed her lighting choices to brass and wrought iron after that. It improved their chances of survival.”

  Laura’s laugh was worth a thousand smiles.

  But his victory didn’t last.

  She came back to the bed to pick up his bag, testing the weight of it before setting it back down on the quilt. “Do you always travel with your own personal arsenal?”

  “Usually, I keep it in the car with my Kevlar and other duty gear.” He tried to read the expression in her eyes. “Does it scare you?”

  “Yes. There’s a lot of killing power in there and on you. But you know how to use it, right? It’s part of your job? I have a feeling you’ve had training I can’t even imagine.”

  “It’s called a go bag. It includes a little of everything we might need if we have to leave in a hurry or we get stranded somewhere, complete with disposable cell phones, a first aid kit and protein bars if we don’t have access to food.” He’d already turned off her cell phone and removed the battery, so that bastard couldn’t call or text her again. He’d replaced it with a disposable cell, had her program in his and Thomas Watson’s number, and had her tell her boss that she’d miss a few days of work due to a family emergency. If anyone else called, he’d instructed her not to answer. “We’ll lighten up the bag you brought here, pare it down to the essentials, just like mine.”

  “Minus the weaponry.”

  “Have you had firearms training?” She shook her head. “Then all you’re carrying is some spare ammo.” Since the doubt in her eyes wasn’t going away, he unsnapped his holster and pulled out his Glock. “I’d better show you this.”

  “I’m just carrying the ammunition, right?”

  “This is more for your safety than the expectation that you’ll have to use it. These aren’t toys—they’re built to kill. I don’t want any accidents.”

  He hated that he had to have this conversation with her about guns, but he appreciated that she didn’t shy away from it. He put the Glock into her hands so she could feel the weight of it, reminding her to keep it pointed down and away, and showed her the key parts. “This one doesn’t have a separate safety to disengage. Just pulling back on the trigger half a click unlocks it. Don’t go anywhere near that trigger unless you’re ready to use it.”

  Holding it the way he’d taught her, she quickly handed it back. “I won’t.”

  He showed her the Beretta, as well, pointing out the thumb safety on the stock, and warning her about the different rounds for each gun not being interchangeable. She seemed less afraid of the lighter weapon but was just as eager to return it.

  “Have I scared you out of trusting me yet?”

  “No. You’re Conor.”

  Just being Conor Wildman hadn’t always been enough. But if it was enough for Laura, then he was going to try to let go of those old insecurities and be the man she needed.

  “If at any time I feel I can’t handle your protection detail myself, we’ll head to Kansas City, where I know I’ve got backup I can count on. We’d be far enough out of Cobb’s jurisdiction that he shouldn’t be able to track us. We’d have time and space there to figure this all out and bring Chloe’s killer to justice. I didn’t give Cobb the address for Mom’s house, but if he figures out you’re with me, and he grows a few brain cells about how to do police work, he might be able to trace you here. The go bags are just a precaution. Changing locations frequently keeps us off anybody’s radar.” He carried his bag out to the living room and put it at the foot of the sofa where Laura picked up the sheets and blanket he’d set out and started making up a place to sleep for him. Conor grabbed the opposite end of the sheet to tuck it around the cushions. “Lisa never liked it that I knew this stuff. But I know how to hide. I know how to run. I know how to lie with a straight face, and I know how to fight. I will use every one of those skills to keep you safe from whoever the hell is behind this. You listen to me and do what I tell you. I make no guarantees that anything about this will be easy. But I will get you through this. I promise.”

  Laura fluffed up his pillow and set it against the arm of the sofa before she faced him. She laid her hand at the center of his chest, splaying her fingers to rest them over his heart. “I’m glad you know those things.”

  His heart seemed to beat harder, trying to reach out to meet her gentle touch. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t craved even that most simple of contact with her. Stepping into the press of her hand, he tunneled his fingers into her hair, cradled her head back into his palms and lowered his mouth to kiss her.

  The sparks he felt at that first soft touch of her lips kindled a fire in his blood. Her fingers tightened in the front of his sweater. Her lips parted in the ready welcome he was becoming addicted to. The kiss was languid and reassuring and necessarily brief. The hour was late and there were still a few details they needed to sort out.

  Conor rested his forehead against Laura’s and breathed deeply, committing her scent to memory, counting the freckles that dusted her cheeks, allowing the heat arcing between them to slowly dissipate.

  Then he pulled her arm around the back of his waist and walked her to the bedroom. “All right. Some basic rules. Stay inside. Stay away from the windows. If we do have to move out quickly, stay close to my side. Always let me enter or leave a room first. No calling anyone unless I approve it. No getting online. If I say run, you book it as fast as those little legs of yours can go. If I say down, you dive for the ground.”

  “Anything else?” she tried to joke. “Need me to stand on my head if you clap three times or whistle Dixie if you snore?”

  He hugged her to his side and kissed the crown of her hair before releasing her. “My rules should do just fine.”

  She nodded as she circled the bed and pulled back the covers. She sat on the edge of the bed to untie the ankle boots she wore. They’d already agreed to sleep in their clothes instead of changing into pajamas, again to make a quick escape if necessary. She dropped the first boot to the floor and paused. “Do you think my family understands you sending them away?”

  “They understand that it’s easier for me to protect one person than a bunch of you.”

  “Couldn’t Vinnie or Cobb go after them in an effort to flush me out?”

  Conor leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. “Only as a last resort. These men are looking to do damage control and make their problem go away. Killing an entire family is hardly going to keep them off front page news.”

  “Killing?”

  Damn it, he was scaring her again. “I’m not saying it’s impossible, but if Ron and Leslie follow my instructions and avoid using their credit cards, they’ll be hard to track. Lisa and Joe are already in the Caribbean on their honeymoon. And Tim can use his legal connections to keep Linda and their sons safe.”

  “Chloe played a dangerous game and it backfired on her. Now it could backfire on all of us.” Laura stood. “Even you. You saw that video, too. If you hadn’t tried to help me—”

  “I’ve been a survivor all my life. I don’t intend to change that now.” He straightened away from the door, needing to get back to that couch before he couldn’t walk away anymore. “You look like you’re about to drop. Get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

  “It’s been a long weekend.”

  “Good night, Laura.”

  She looked small and vulnerable as she nodded and sat to remove the other boot. “Good night, Conor.”

  Ignoring the way his arms itched to hold her, pretending there wasn’t something sharp and painful twisting inside him that wanted to do whatever was necessary to make her smile again, he pulled the door shut. He’d already covered all the windows and checked the locks, but he made one more security sweep through the two-story house before returning to the living roo
m and stripping down to his T-shirt and jeans. He unhooked the ankle holster and tucked the Beretta into his bag before sliding beneath the blanket on the couch. He left his holster on his belt but set his Glock within easy reach on the floor beside him. Then he turned off the lamp and closed his eyes.

  They popped open just a few minutes later when he heard a low-pitched whimper in the darkness. Conor knew the house well enough to instantly identify where the sound had come from. A sniffle, as quiet as the soft mewling that had alerted him, turned his head toward his old bedroom. Crying. His mother had cried once, toward the end of her stay in hospice, when she realized she wouldn’t be seeing her grandchildren. There wasn’t a sound in the world that could twist his insides into a harder knot.

  He hadn’t been able to do anything to help his mother beyond holding her hand and sharing his handkerchief. There hadn’t been any promises he could make that could add time to her life or give her those grandbabies.

  Laura was crying.

  Sleep wasn’t an option now. Not if she was sad or hurting or afraid.

  Conor holstered his weapon before padding softly across the cool wood floor. He knocked on the door before pushing it open. With the shades drawn and the lights off, he could barely make out her shape in the bed. But the tears were legit, and each sob she fought to suppress, each sniffle that escaped, tore at him. “You okay, Squirt?”

  He heard a rustling beneath the covers and saw the silhouette of her sitting up. “Did I wake you?” He heard the distinct sound of a tissue being used. “I’m sorry.”

  He crossed to the bedside table and turned on the lamp his mother had painted. He plucked a couple more tissues from the box beside the bed and handed them to Laura as he sat on the edge of the bed, facing her. “You didn’t answer my question.” She dabbed at her nose and eyes and wiped the trails of tears off her cheeks. “You’re not okay.”

  She tossed the used tissues onto the table and rolled her red-rimmed eyes heavenward before meeting his worried gaze. “I’m having a weak moment.”

  “I think you’re entitled.” Her hair was tousled and sexy, and neither the quilt that covered her lap nor the thick-knit sweater she wore could mask the siren call of her curves. But all he could see was the bleak despair in her puffy eyes. “If you need a good cry, go for it.”

  But now her sadness was tinged with anger. She fisted the tissue in her lap and shook it. “Why couldn’t I leave things well enough alone?”

  “You wanted to help your friend.”

  “I should have just called the police and let them handle Chloe’s murder.”

  Conor took her hand, prying the defenseless tissue from her grasp and warming her stiff fingers against his jeans. “You did call the police. Me.”

  “I got you involved in this when all you wanted was to come for the wedding and get back to Missouri. I feel like I’m forcing you to stay with me. I put you in terrible danger. I put everyone in terrible danger.” She shifted her grip and grabbed on to his hand with both of hers. “Two women are already dead. I keep imagining all the horrible things that could happen to me, or my family—or you.”

  Conor shrugged and tried to elicit a smile. “I’m Conor Wildman. Rebel bad boy next door. Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

  At that, Laura pushed the covers back and sat up on her knees, making herself taller, putting her body closer to his. She wasn’t laughing. “Then you’re a bad boy with a heart of gold. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. And I...” She paused to summon her courage. Her eyes glowed with golden flecks of emotion in the dim light from the lamp. “I’m guessing this isn’t what you want to hear, but, in case something happens, and I can’t say it later, I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Squirt.”

  “No.” She shook her head and scooted closer until her knee touched his thigh. “I am in love with you. I have been for as long as I can remember. Of course, when I was younger, I didn’t understand what I was feeling. And then you were with Lisa, and I wanted you both to be happy, so I ignored those feelings. Even when you two were struggling, I was willing to stand aside because you wanted that relationship to work, and I wanted you both to be happy. You never saw me as anything other than her kid sister, anyway.”

  Love? While his heart leaped at the idea of Laura thinking she was in love with him, the wiser, self-preserving, world-weary logic in him put up an invisible warning hand. He’d accept her caring and her kisses any day of the week, but he wasn’t going to set himself up for any more pain. It hurt when he grinned this time, but he did it. “Hey, I’m back up on that pedestal. I’m a girl’s teenage crush again.”

  “Don’t make a joke this time, okay? Not about this.” She pulled his hand into her lap for a moment, tracing his fingers with hers, sizing up the differences between his long fingers and her more delicate hands. Then she laced her fingers through his and bound them together again. “These past few days—I believe you really see me for who I am now. A grown-up. A possibility. I’m not standing aside anymore. I love my sister, but Lisa didn’t make you happy. I think I can. We’ve got this crazy chemistry thing going on, and I want to be with you in a way I’ve never wanted to be with any other man. I know I’ve thrown myself at you a couple of times to get you to wake up and notice me, us, what I think we could be, but...” Finally, she released his hand and sat back on her heels. “I will be your friend the rest of my life if that’s what you want. If that’s what you need from me. But I don’t want to die—I don’t want you to die without me saying how I feel.”

  “Squirt—”

  “You don’t have to say anything. I just need you to know that. That you’re loved.”

  “No final dramatic speeches, okay? We’re going to get through this.” The girl with the stitches in her busted chin, the teenager whose pride had been shamed by a careless comment that left her weeping in her tree house didn’t really know about love and the depths of what a man and woman could feel, could she? Conor reached out to free a strand of hair that clung to the dampness on her cheek. He smoothed it into to the silky waves of her hair. “It’s the stress talking. Stress and fatigue and a little bit of fear.”

  “A lot of fear,” she conceded. “But I felt this way before Chloe’s murder, before any of this happened. I never thought I had a chance with you until I saw you at the wedding. Now we may never have a chance.” When Conor pulled away, she shook her head. “You don’t believe me, do you. That’s why you keep calling me Squirt. It keeps me at a distance, keeps you from having to think about changing our relationship.” She spread her hand over his heart, and her heat seeped through his T-shirt into his skin. He felt the sad truth of her words deeper inside. “Have you been hurt so badly that you don’t trust what I’m saying? Or do you still think I’m too young to know my own heart?”

  Good grief, she had grown up. Maybe it was a woman’s intuition, or maybe she knew him too well. In some ways, she had a better read on people than all his years of training had given him. She sure as hell had a perfect read on him.

  He pulled her hand away and stood. “Let’s just get through the next few days. Let’s put the bad guys away where they belong. Then we’ll sort this all out.”

  “I’ve had a long time to think about this. The decision is yours. Love or friendship? When you’re ready, you let me know.”

  He tried to walk away. He tried to pretend he was doing some noble thing here by leaving her to her girlish fantasies. He walked out of the light from the lamp surrounding her on the bed. He made it to the doorway before his hand fisted around the carved walnut trim.

  He knew she wasn’t a little girl anymore. He knew she believed what she had told him. Hadn’t he admitted to himself a few hours earlier that he loved her, too? She’d laid it all on the line in a way he wasn’t able to. He’d spent a good part of the past few hours gauging just how serious her attachment to him was, and whether he wanted to risk a few days or w
eeks, or maybe only a few hours, of following his heart. If he screwed this up, he’d end up losing her forever, and that idea made him sick to his stomach. Or, he could sustain himself on the friendship they’d always shared, that he believed would always endure.

  You just signed your death warrant. I’m coming for you.

  The words from that last text threat played through his brain, shining a spotlight on the answer.

  There was no guarantee of tomorrow. Laura Karr made him happy in ways he’d never felt with anybody else. And damn it, Conor had spent too long not being happy—not letting himself love a woman the way he wanted to because he was tired of losing people. He was tired of being the wrong boy, the wrong man. He was tired of being hurt.

  Maybe he couldn’t bank on forever. But he could have now. He could have Laura and her love, at least for a little while—at least until she didn’t need him anymore. At least until he had to go back to Kansas City and she opted to stay in Arlington. Tonight, he was the right man. Tonight, it was safe for him to let go and love her.

  “Are you okay? Can you talk to me? What are you thinking?”

  Her voice drew him like a beacon from the shadows. Decision made. He turned, locked on to her beautiful eyes, and walked to the bed. Each deliberate step brought him further out of the darkness that had choked off his heart for far too long. He didn’t pause except to unhook his belt and lay it and his gun on the bedside table. He braced his hands atop the bedding on either side of her, forcing her to scoot back across the bed as he kept moving forward.

  “What are you doing? Conor?”

  The edge of the mattress sagged beneath his weight as he brought one knee, and then the other, up and crawled over her. “Screw friendship. I want you, too.”

  Laura was flat on her back, her hair splayed in a halo on the quilt around her head, her hands braced against his chest. She held her breath as she questioned his intent. “So, this means...?”

  Her legs were trapped beneath his, his hips nestled against her. Lying down like this, the differences in their heights didn’t matter. His body was hungrily aware of each womanly curve, and her sweet scent that filled the small space between them. “I’m finishing what we started earlier. If that’s okay with you.”