“You’re not going to feed her that for breakfast, are you?” Sydney asked.
“I forgot to pack her cereal and fruit.”
“I have plenty of baby stuff in the basement pantry. Come on. I’ll show you where it is. You want to leave Emma here or take her?”
“I…” She met Chance’s eyes.
“She’ll be fine here.”
“Are you sure?”
“We haven’t had any trouble getting along yet, have we, kid?” He chucked Emma under the chin and she grinned.
“All right. As long as you’re sure,” Rayne said as she followed Sydney out of the room. Emma started fussing almost immediately, her big blue eyes welling with tears.
“Don’t do that, kid.” He pulled her out of the high chair, carried her to the window.
Outside, the wind howled, bending towering pine trees and sending snowdrifts up the side of the wood fence that surrounded the yard. Not a good day to be outside, but an easy day to stay safe. Unless Leon was desperate, he wouldn’t be driving the roads, trolling for his victim.
Emma patted his cheek, demanding his attention. He looked down into her chubby face and caught a glimpse of a future he hadn’t thought he’d wanted but knew he couldn’t turn away from.
Whatever it took, he’d protect Rayne and Emma, and when it was over, there’d be no walking away.
He’d changed in the past couple of days.
He couldn’t regret it. All he could do was step forward in faith and see where God would lead him.
TWELVE
Three days stuck in a house with a stranger, a fussy baby and a man she desperately needed to avoid wasn’t high on the list of things Rayne wanted to do with her life.
She’d done it anyway.
Spent three days tiptoeing around Sydney’s place, eating meals at the kitchen table, Emma squirming and fussing in her lap, Chance across the table, talking and smiling and acting like they were a happy little family.
Only they weren’t a family, and Rayne wasn’t happy.
At least she shouldn’t be. Somehow, though, sitting with Chance, listening to him talk about his work, his life, his dreams, felt right. No doubt about it, the longer she spent stuck in the house with him, the more likely she was to do the unthinkable.
Break rule number three.
Fall.
Hard.
Unfortunately, despite the best efforts of the Spokane Sheriff’s Department, Leon was still on the loose. Despite Rayne’s best efforts to remember the night of the accident, her mind was empty of anything but vague, shadowy images. Darkness. Light. Fear. Nothing she could hang on to.
Which was why she’d be spending another day tiptoeing around Sydney’s house, trying not to be in the way, trying to stay out of Chance’s way, trying not to feel as if she was a prisoner of circumstances and of her own fickle emotions.
She glanced at the glowing numbers on the clock that sat on a table near the futon. A few more hours and the sun would be up. Day four with little hope of it being the last day of her sentence.
She frowned.
Not a sentence.
A safety precaution.
That’s what her brother, Jonas, had said when she’d called and told him where she was, who she was with, why.
Stay put.
Do what Chance and Kane tell you.
She could hear the words as clearly as if he were standing in the room saying them. She wanted to shrug them off, but not nearly as much as she wanted to stay alive. Not that she was afraid to die. She wasn’t. She was afraid to leave Emma motherless. Jonas and Skylar had agreed to be Emma’s guardians if something happened to Rayne, but Rayne wanted to be around as Emma grew, wanted to walk her to school on the first day of kindergarten, take her to ballet lessons, teach her to tie her shoes.
She paced across the room, wishing she could turn on the radio, but afraid the noise would wake Emma. It had taken nearly an hour for the baby to fall asleep. The last thing Rayne wanted was for her to wake up. Maybe she could sneak down to the kitchen for a snack instead. There’d been a bag of mini-chocolate bars in one of the cupboards. That sounded like the perfect prescription for stress reduction.
She crept down the stairs and through the dining room. No way would she walk through the living room where Chance slept. No lights, but she didn’t need them to scout out a bag of chocolate. She opened one cupboard, then another, scowling when she came up empty.
There had been a bag of chocolate bars—she was certain of it.
“Looking for something?” Chance’s voice cut through the darkness and she jumped, whirling around to face him.
“What are you doing up?” she whispered, her heart pounding double time.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” He flipped on a light over the stove, the golden glow highlighting the angles and planes of his face.
Gorgeous.
No other way to say it.
No way to deny it.
She looked away, looked back, trying not to ogle. Really, really trying. “I came down for some chocolate.”
“One of those nights, huh?” He didn’t seem nearly as uncomfortable as she was.
And why should he be?
Why should she be?
She had a father and a brother and had run into them around the house at all hours. There was nothing special about a late night chat…in a dimly lit room…with a very appealing man…
Yet Chance was…
Different.
It wasn’t just his looks that made him seem that way, wasn’t even mostly his looks. It was his attitude, his faith, his spirit of service.
His impressive biceps didn’t hurt, either.
He reached into a cupboard above the sink and pulled out a bag of miniature candy bars. “There you go. An entire bag of chocolate. Now how about we sit down and you tell me why you’re up at three in the morning?” He tugged open the bag of chocolates and ate one.
“Hey!”
“There are plenty more, Goldilocks.”
“I really wish you’d stop calling me that.”
“Okay.”
“And while you’re at it, you can stop being so easy to get along with.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She scowled and he chuckled, unwrapping another chocolate and handing it to her. “So spill. What’s got you growling this morning?”
“This house. Leon. You. Me. Everything.” She popped the chocolate into her mouth and reached for another one.
“And you think chocolate is going to help?”
“It can’t hurt.”
“I have a better idea.”
“No.”
“You haven’t even heard what it is,” Chance said with an impish grin.
“I don’t need to. If it involves spending time with you, it’s a very, very bad idea.”
“Why’s that?”
“Have you forgotten rule number three, Chance? The only rule I’ve yet to break. The one rule I’m not going to break. Not even for you.”
“You never did tell me what that rule was.”
“And I’m never going to.”
“Okay, but since you’re not going to break it, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Come on. Let me show you what I had in mind.” He pulled her to her feet, grabbing the bag of chocolate bars as he walked across the room.
“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Rayne said, but she walked with him anyway. Through the dining room, into the foyer and then into the living room. Firelight illuminated the room, reflecting off the cover of Chance’s laptop.
“Were you working?”
“I have a couple of cases I’m finishing up.” He pulled a blanket from the back of the couch, spread it on the floor.
“At three in the morning?”
“You’re not the only one who has things on their mind.”
“I’m sorry. I should have asked before now. What’s bothering you enough to keep you awake at this time of the morning?”
�
�Nothing a few minutes watching the fire burn won’t solve.”
“I don’t think watching a fire—”
“That’s your problem, Rayne. You think too much.” He sat and tugged her down beside him, opened up a candy bar and handed it to her.
Firelight played across her face, warming tense muscles, relaxing her in a way she hadn’t expected.
He handed her another chocolate, but she passed it back.
“Thanks. I’ve had enough.”
“Since when are three mini-chocolate bars enough for anyone?” Chance asked, popping the chocolate into his mouth, his silvery gaze trailing over her face.
“Since I stopped growing up and started growing out.”
“I’m surprised.” He raised an eyebrow and she frowned.
“By what?”
“The fact that you count calories. You’re too thin by a lot of people’s standards. As a matter of fact, in many cultures, you’d need to fatten up if you ever wanted to receive a marriage proposal.”
“I wouldn’t ever want another one, so I guess it’s not something I need to worry about.”
“That’s not the point. The point is, you’re perfect the way you are, so why deny yourself something you love for the sake of someone else’s ideal?”
“I’m not denying myself anything.” Or maybe she was. Three years of watching Michael carefully portion everything he ate, three years of him reminding her that she couldn’t afford to gain any more weight, three years of looking in the mirror and seeing her curves as a burden, and every bite of something she loved had become a danger zone she needed to be wary of.
She scowled. “I thought you said sitting here was going to help.”
“It will. Just give it time.” He unwrapped another chocolate, pressed it to her lips, and she had no choice but to eat it.
“Chance—”
“If you don’t let yourself relax, the fire won’t work.”
“I can’t relax. There’s too much going on. Or not enough going on. I don’t know which.” She paced to the window, looked out into the darkness. Bright moonlight spilled onto crisp white snowdrifts, illuminating the landscape. Pine boughs undulated rhythmically, the wind blowing snow and ice from their branches.
“There’s a lot of work going on, Rayne. We’ll have our answers eventually.”
“I know, and I appreciate everything everyone is doing, but this isn’t what I thought my life would be like when I moved to Spokane.”
“What did you think it would be like?”
“Peaceful. Fresh. New. Instead, it’s exactly what it was those last few months in Arizona. I keep feeling as if there’s a reason for it. Like maybe God is trying to teach me to rely on Him or maybe He’s trying to show me that I’ve made a wrong turn in my life, but no matter how much I try to figure it out, I’m just not sure what He’s saying.”
“It’s tough when you don’t feel as if there’s clear direction.”
“It’s also tough to hear myself whining. I’m not usually like this.” She tried to laugh, but the sound fell flat.
“You’re not whining. Much.”
This time she really did laugh. “At least you’re honest.”
“This will all be over soon. You’ll be able to go back to your life, go back to looking for whatever it is you were hoping you’d find when you moved here.”
“I wasn’t looking for anything. I was starting fresh.”
“We’re all looking for something, Rayne. For some of us, that means running away from everything we’ve ever known. For others, it means running back to what we left behind.” Chance moved up behind her, not touching but close enough that his breath ruffled her hair, his warmth seeped through her flannel pajamas.
Pajamas?
She glanced down at the neon green frogs and bright pink hearts that danced across sky-blue fabric.
Perfect.
“They’re cute.”
“What?”
“The pajamas.”
“Thanks.”
He chuckled, and she truly relaxed for the first time in way too many hours. “Would you rather I’d said they were beautiful?”
“I’d rather you’d not have seen me in them at all.”
“You came downstairs, Rayne. Didn’t you think I’d hear you and come to see what was wrong?”
“I had chocolate on the brain. I wasn’t thinking about much of anything.” But she should have known he’d come. That’s the way Chance was. Always there when she needed him.
Not that she needed him.
She didn’t need anyone but God, Emma and herself.
The thought clogged her throat, filled her eyes.
But she was not going to cry.
No way in the world would she let Chance see her wearing her froggy flannel, tears dripping down her face, her nose red and running.
No way.
Because as much as she said she wasn’t going to break rule number three, she couldn’t help thinking that she’d like to, and she had too much pride to stand in front of a man she’d like to fall for, crying her heart out because she couldn’t let herself.
“What were you looking for when you came back to Spokane?” she asked, because if she thought about things too long, she might decide that the idea of rules was overrated, that only God’s rules really mattered and that her three rules were most definitely meant to be broken.
“That’s a good question, Goldilocks.” He played with the ends of her hair, his fingers combing through the curls.
She shivered, wanting to move away.
Wanting to stay even more.
“Do you know the answer?”
She turned, realized too late just how close they were. Toe to toe. Eye to…sternum.
She looked up, her breath catching as she met his eyes.
“I came looking for redemption. I’d let Jessica down. I’d let my father and brother down by leaving them with the burden of responsibility for the farm and the orchards. I thought my one chance to redeem myself lay in helping my mother keep the farm, but I realized pretty soon after I got here that all she needed was my company.”
“So you didn’t find what you were looking for?”
“Yes, I did. I was looking for redemption and I found it. And then I found you, and I’m starting to believe that you’re the second chance I didn’t think I’d ever have.” He ran his finger down her cheek, traced a path to the pulse point in her neck.
They were inches apart.
Inches.
And she couldn’t move away. Could only stretch up as he leaned down, her arms sliding around broad shoulders, her fingers raking through silky hair as their lips touched and fire thundered through her blood.
Somewhere in the distance a phone rang, the sound barely registering.
“I’d better get that,” Chance said, stepping back, heat blazing from his eyes as he turned, grabbed his cell phone from the table, walked from the room and left Rayne leaning against the window, icy cold seeping through her flannel PJs, her heart pounding in her ears, every beat echoing one word, one rule, one more broken promise to herself.
Three. Three. Three. Three.
She’d done the unthinkable.
She’d broken the rule.
She’d fallen in love.
She ran a hand over her hair, tried to quiet her rapid heartbeat. If the phone hadn’t rung, would they still be standing in front of the window?
The phone?
Before dawn?
That couldn’t mean anything good.
She hurried into the kitchen, nearly barreling into Chance.
“Careful.” He grabbed her waist, his hands tightening a fraction before he let her go and turned away, the phone pressed to his ear.
“Are you sure?” The taut edge to the question made the hair on the back of Rayne’s neck stand on end.
“Any idea how he died?”
“Who died?” she hissed, but Chance ignored her question.
“Any reason to believe that’s not the c
ase?” He stalked to the window, stared out into the darkness. “Okay. That sounds good. Call me as soon as you know more.”
He hung up, dropped the phone back onto the table, met her eyes. “The police spotted the Mitsubishi truck at a motel fifty miles north of here. Daryl Green checked in there four days ago. When the police entered the room, they found him.”
“Dead?”
“Yes. He took an overdose of prescription pain medication.”
“How long has he been dead?” She couldn’t wrap her mind around it. The man she’d been sure was hunting her down was no longer a threat. Somehow, though, she still didn’t feel safe.
“The medical examiner thinks he died sometime yesterday.”
“Did he leave a note?”
“No, but the police found evidence to tie him to the bombing at my mother’s house.”
“I guess that’s that, then. They have their suspect, he’s dead. Everything can go back to normal.” Or as normal as anything could be with two months’ worth of memories lost and rules number one, two and three broken.
Maybe she needed a new rule. A fourth one.
Like: never, ever break a rule again.
“Kai will be over in a few hours to fill us in on more details.”
“What details?”
“The sheriff’s department is still collecting evidence, and Kai wants to speak with us both when they’re done.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It isn’t good or bad. He wants to gather all the information before he gives it to us. That’ll make things less confusing in the long run.”
“So we’re waiting again?”
“Yeah. We’re waiting.” He handed her a chocolate bar, and she threw caution to the wind and ate it, her stomach churning as she swallowed the sweet confection.
Leon was dead and in a few hours, she’d be free to go back to her life.
She just wasn’t sure she knew what that meant.
She only knew what it didn’t mean.
It didn’t mean more kisses in the firelight. It didn’t mean spending hour after hour with a man who made her feel like every curve, every blemish and every flaw was part of her unique beauty.
“You’re upset,” Chance said, his knuckles brushing her cheek, skimming over lips still warm from his kisses.
Private Eye Protector Page 12
