by Jen Talty
“We’d all rather eat leather than your food,” Jake said.
“Food can’t be the only reason you two drove all the way up here this morning, when both of you are off duty and could be home with your families.” Josh stuffed half a slice of the French toast, along with a full piece of bacon, into his mouth. He glanced at Delaney, who had sat next to him, but all she did was push the food around on the tray. He nudged her arm with his elbow.
“Don’t mean to be rude,” Jake said, “but I’m not sure this is a conversation we should be having with her at the table”
“I promised her I’d keep her informed. Besides, this affects her just as much as it affects me.” Josh glanced between Jake and Stacey, making sure they both understood he wasn’t budging on that point.
“All right,” Stacey said as she sat next to Jake, clasping her hands together. “Jared got a call from your old sergeant at six this morning, informing him that Liam has filed a missing person’s report on his sister, Delaney. Last seen in Lake George with—”
Josh interrupted. “Let me guess. Me.”
“Oh, it gets better,” Jake said with an arched brow. “He gave the NYPD an image that supposedly came from Delaney’s phone with a picture of her and you together.”
“That’s impossible,” Delaney said.
Stacey held up her phone. “Someone took this picture of the two of you on the docks at the Heritage Inn.”
“Shit.” Josh took the phone and stared at a picture of him in uniform with his tongue clearly in Delaney’s mouth.
“They were watching me the entire time?” Delaney pushed her food aside. “Oh, my God. Do you think they could somehow have that recording?”
“Not with the device they gave you,” Jake said. “While it had Wi-Fi capabilities, it wasn’t connected, and the file would have been too large to send over a phone.”
“When this is all over, one of you is going to have arrest me, because I’m going to kill my brother.”
“Don’t joke about that.” Josh pushed her plate back in front of her, handing her a fork. “Eat.”
“I’ve lost my appetite.”
By the glare she gave him, he opted not to push. “So, when is someone coming to question me, and who?”
“We believe the paperwork will come through the State Police,” Stacey said, “but not our office, so no idea who will be assigned to question you. Could also be a local. Jared has you on vacation, which the press could have a field day with, but the story hasn’t broken here because thus far, everyone has seen the two of you together and thinks you’ve just gone off to be alone.”
“Why would Josh being on vacation be a problem?” Delaney asked.
“I was awarded the Public Safety Officer Medal of Valor. It’s the highest honor a public servant could ever receive. Any kind of scandal regarding me could become the story of the century, but I suspect it’s less about ruining my career, and more about flushing us out.”
“That, we can agree on,” Jake said, “but Craypo could easily leak false information to the press, like suggesting you’re running because you did something to Delaney.”
“But I could just come forward and tell them they’re all wrong,” Delaney
“And that’s how they’d draw us out of hiding.” Josh couldn’t control his desire to touch Delaney any longer, so he slipped his hand under the table and onto her bare thigh. Stacey noticed the gesture and cocked her head, but said nothing. “Which I don’t want to do yet. Not until I have a solid plan.”
“We can play this any way you want,” Jake said. “You’ve only got two more nights here, but I wouldn’t stay that long. I’ve got a cabin in the Adirondacks that you can crash at for a few days.”
“That should give me enough time to figure some things out.”
“Keep in touch,” Stacey said. “Whatever you need, we’ve got your back.”
“Thanks.” Jake nodded to his friends as they made their way down the dirt path to the dock.
“What are we going to do?” Delaney asked. “I can’t run forever. I’m supposed to go back to work in eight days.”
“Once I’ve got everything in place, we’re going to turn your phone on and confront Craypo and his men, face-to-face.”
8
Delaney stood at the front of the tent, staring at the flap, dreading climbing in for the night. The cloud-covered sky hid what little light the moon and stars could have provided.
After Josh’s friends left, he’d spent most of his time in the boat on the phone, texting or searching something on his iPad while he made sure all of his devices were fully charged. They took one quick boat ride over to some island that sold food, but otherwise, he barely spoke to her. He hadn’t been mean, but he certainly hadn’t gone out of his way to spend any time with her or even check to see if she were okay.
A light flickered inside the tent, and she heard the drag of a zipper. Sucking in a deep breath, she kicked off her shoes, forced a smile, and scooted in backward.
Her heart fluttered as she shifted to her side and realized he’d zipped the sleeping bags together. She opted to sit above the covers, for now. Part of her liked the idea, but the other part wanted to throttle him for being so presumptuous that she wouldn’t mind. A cool breeze rippled through the tent, and she shivered.
“You might want to get underneath soon. It’s going to drop to fifty, or even below.”
“Really? It’s summer.”
“It’s the end August, and it can get cold up here at night.”
“Okay.” She paused. “Why’d you zip them together?”
“Body heat. We might need it,” he said casually. He didn’t even look up at her as he tapped on his iPad.
“What are you doing?” She wanted to all him a cold fish for being so standoffish, considering all she’d told him.
He set aside his tablet, then tucked his legs under the sleeping bag, twisting his muscular frame to face her.
She swallowed, staring at his powerful, bare chest with just a trace of blond hair in the center.
“Working on a plan that will put Craypo, Kirk, and all their cronies behind bars, so you can go back to your life.”
“How, exactly, are you going to do that?”
“I’m calling in a bunch of favors.” He palmed her cheek. “Do you trust me?”
She nodded.
He blinked, dropping his hand. “Good. Now, let’s get some sleep.” He shifted his body, putting his back to her as he settled into the sleeping bag before turning the light down to a faint glow.
“Josh?”
“Yes?”
“I really am sorry about what I did and how we met.” Her heartbeat slowed. How could she feel as though she lost him, when she’d never really had him in the first place? “I really do like you.”
“I like you, too.” He fluffed his pillow, but didn’t turn.
The butterflies in her stomach floated to a standstill. She had no right to be disappointed. Their kiss earlier hadn’t meant anything. She settled down between the sleeping bags, tucking her hands under her cheek and staring at the back of his head, determined not to fidget. Keeping her breath steady, she closed her eyes, forcing her body to relax, praying sleep would come quickly.
But it didn’t.
When she felt the sleeping bag slide across her arm, she opened her eyes and saw his profile etched in the faint light glowing in the darkness. She couldn’t tell if his eyes were open, so she continued to lay still, once again hoping sleep wouldn’t elude her too long. She concentrated on the sound of crickets, the water gently lapping against the rocks on the shore, and his rhythmic breathing.
“Still awake?” he whispered.
“Yes.” She relaxed her body and rolled to her back, realizing how sore her muscles had become in her attempt to remain motionless.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
A throaty laugh escaped her mouth. “Considering the last few days, I don’t think you need ask permission.”
“I can’t stop wondering why, before me, and especially before Kirk, you couldn’t ever have an orgasm.”
She laughed harder. “Sorry, but I don’t understand why this is so important to you.”
“I’m not all that special or necessarily great in bed.”
She giggled, which she hated, because she sounded like a schoolgirl. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“I’m so glad I amuse you,” he said as he propped his head up, elbow on his pillow. “But you? You’re amazing, and the way you came for me was mind-blowing. I can’t imagine that it’s never happened before.”
“Still having trouble believing I’m telling the truth?”
“I believe you, but I don’t understand. You’re the most sensual woman I’ve ever met.”
“I’m not even close to being sensual, and honestly, I’ve never really liked sex.”
“Why?”
“After the incident with Kirk, I went to counseling. Not so much because of what he tried to do, but I really thought there might be something wrong with me.”
“There is nothing wrong with you. Trust me. Everything works the way it’s supposed to, and then some.” His fingers floated like a feather across the sensitive skin on the inside of her elbow.
“That is the worst line you’ve ever given me.”
“I’ve never given you a line.” His fingers curled around her wrist. “Did the counseling help?”
“It helped me understand that my problem was more psychological than physical.”
He laughed. “I’d say we proved that theory correct, but did you ever find out why?”
“My first time wasn’t very pleasant.” She closed her eyes. The memory still caused a sense of embarrassment.
“I’m no girl, but I understand that is true for most women.” He rubbed the sensitive skin on her palm.
She rolled her head, and now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness inside the tent, she saw the outline of his face perfectly. His normally strong features, softened. “That may be true, but I didn’t know I had a yeast infection, and it felt more like someone rammed a hot curling iron up there.” She expected her voice would tremble, revealing this truth about herself. But it hadn’t. Nor had she felt ashamed. The words rolled of her tongue as if this were a normal conversation among friends.
“That sounds painful. What about when the infection was gone?”
“You are persistent, I’ll give you that,” she said, shocked her face wasn’t hot with embarrassment. She never spoke about this with anyone but her therapist, and even then, she’d been mortified. “I thought that was the pain. I was only seventeen, and never had a yeast infection before, so the next time we had sex, same thing. For five consecutive times, it was that bad, so he broke up with me.”
“You really have shitty taste in men.”
“That, I do,” she agreed. “About a week later, I went to Planned Parenthood because it burned so bad. I was terrified I had some sexually transmitted disease or something.”
“Did you tell the doctor about the pain during sex?”
“No,” she said. “I figured it was the reason it hurt so bad, considering how that exam felt, but I guess it stuck with me my entire life, and part of the reason I’ve always waited until I really knew someone, so I would feel more relaxed, and then perhaps I could get there. It almost happened a few times.”
Josh traced his forefinger across her bruised cheek before he leaned in and tenderly kissed her lips. He slid his arm under the top sleeping bag, resting his hand on her stomach as he deepened the kiss. He had a way of melting away all her concerns, replacing it with a sense of confidence.
When she wrapped her arms around his thick shoulders, she had every intention of yanking his body on top of her until she felt the scar on the back of his shoulder, where a bullet had torn completely through his body. She cupped his face, ripping their mouths apart.
“What?” He blinked a few times.
She tapped his shoulder. “Tell me about these,” she demanded.
He groaned, rolling to his back. “Wouldn’t you rather hear about my first time?”
She tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder, palmed the scars on his side. “I’m sure it was wonderful for you.”
He laughed, his fingers dancing up and down her bare arm, sending warmth across her skin. “Actually, it was pretty pathetic. I was clueless about the female body and might have lasted a whole two minutes. My girlfriend was quite disappointed and dumped me the next day.”
“You’re either teasing me, or you have shitty taste in women.”
“Definitely the latter,” he said, shifting to his side and pressing his body against hers. “I’ve learned a thing or two since then.”
She smiled. “I’d say more than two, but you’re changing the subject, and I want to know about the person who shot you.”
“There is a big difference between the girl I met at the Boardwalk and the woman in my arms right now.”
She kissed his chest. “That has nothing to do with—”
“I’ll tell you what happened in a minute.” He held her tight. “I want you to know you’re much more confident now. I’m guessing—or maybe hoping—it’s because you no longer have secrets you’re trying to keep from me.”
“No secrets.” She could understand why he continued to bring it up, but it only reminded her that he’d never be able to forget.
“You’re still a little on the innocent side, but stronger. I like this woman better.”
“Good line. Now, tell me who shot you and how it’s tied into Craypo, Kirk, and my brother.”
“The last woman I was sleeping with pumped five bullets in me.”
“What?”
“Told you I had bad taste—”
“Why would she shoot you, and what does she have to do with Craypo?”
“She was Craypo’s wife.”
Delaney blinked a few times before scrambling to a sitting position. She stared at Josh, who stayed on his back, one hand behind his head, the other fingering the scar on his shoulder.
“I’m not such a Boy Scout after all, am I?”
“I’m… I…I…have so many questions, I don’t even know where to start.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “How did you end up with his wife?”
“I was working undercover inside Craypo’s organization, trying to gather as much incriminating evidence as I could, but it was difficult.” His inflection went flat and distant.
“So, you slept with her to get information?” She cringed. The question sounded worse than what she’d meant.
“No.” He turned his head away and let out a dry laugh. “About six months into the operation, when I was finally in the inner circle, I found out a large shipment of illegal weapons was ready to go out and thought I’d finally get what I needed to bring down Craypo. There was a charity event that Craypo and his family ran every year, and that’s where the first meeting was supposed to take place. Craypo asked me to escort Nicole because he was going to be late. In the limo, I got a tip from an informant that the buyers weren’t going to show and that they had planted a bomb in the venue, hoping to take out Craypo. As much as I would have liked that, I couldn’t let innocent people die.” He continued to look in the other direction, at the side of tent, hand over his shoulder.
“So, what did you do?” Tentatively, she placed her hand over his palm, lacing her fingers through his. He didn’t twitch or brush her away, but the Josh she knew was no longer in the tent with her, trapped instead in an old memory.
“I told the limo driver to take Nicole and her kids home because I’d heard there could be trouble.”
“Children?”
“Two little boys,” he said softly, the emotion seeping back into his voice. “She argued with me, but I got out and slammed the door, racing toward the entrance, assuming the driver would do as I told him. Before they left, Nicole got a good look at me talking with a few uniformed cops. She put two and two together, and
the next day, when the story broke, she confronted me.”
“I take it the bomb didn’t go off, right?” Delaney asked as she let out a long breath in a whoosh.
“No, but now I had a different problem, and I figured I was a dead man walking until Nicole said she’d keep my secret if I would help her and her boys leave Craypo.” Josh looked at Delaney. His forehead wrinkled, and his green eyes changed from light to dark. “She told me that Craypo beat her and the boys.”
“That’s certainly believable, based on what you’ve told me about Craypo.”
“Believable, but not true. I let her seduce me. I let myself fall a little in love with her and those boys. She gave me all sorts of incriminating evidence on Craypo. I had so much that a month before she shot me, I could have walked, and it would have been enough…but I didn’t. I wanted to save her and the boys, and I wanted to ride off into the sunset with them.”
Delaney reached out with her free hand and cupped Josh’s face, her thumb fanning the soft skin just under his eye. “When did she shoot you, and why?”
“I had an exit plan for her all set up, but she called me one day, saying she needed to talk to me. That she needed out sooner. That Craypo was on to us. I told her to come to my apartment with the boys, and we’d work it out. I met her in the parking garage, with my car loaded with all the evidence she’d helped me collect. She got her boys—”
“They were with her?” Delaney leaned over and kissed one of the scars on his arm. His hand came across the back of her head, his fingers running through the strands.
“Her boys stood in front of my car. I thought she was ready to leave, but instead, she pulled a gun on me. I reacted and went for cover, but not before she fired twice.” He lowered the top sleeping bag, placing Delaney’s hand over the two scars on his side. “I got a shot off, but I missed and hit the back tire of her car. She fired three more times.” He tapped his skin where each bullet had ripped through his body.
Delaney followed his motions, letting her fingers linger over the damaged skin, sensing the physical torture he’d endured along with the emotional blackmail that he’d suffered at the hands of the woman who shot him.
