by Connie Mann
She eyed the snake again, which had now crawled completely out from under the cap and started investigating her bed. As long as it didn’t get any closer, she’d be fine. Come on, Hunter. Where did you go?
What felt like two years later, she heard a slight creak on the wooden floor in the hallway. For a big man, he moved like a cat.
He eased up behind her with a trash can in one hand and a snake hook in the other. His warm breath sent an unexpected zing down her back as he leaned close and whispered, “Start easing back. When I count to three, run.”
She barely nodded as she inched backward, eyeing the snake, which had suddenly come back to attention, coiled up again, and issued a warning rattle.
His voice was a mere breath of sound. “One. Two. Three—”
Before he finished the word, Charlee turned and tore down the short hall to the living room. She collapsed on the couch, panting, the shakes setting in now that she was out of striking range.
She heard his low voice, several thumps, and after a few minutes, Hunter walked by carrying the closed trash can, the snake presumably inside. He went out to his truck, then came back in and sat down beside her. “I’ll take it out to the forest and release it. Any idea how it got in?”
Charlee tried to respond, to find words to thank him, but nothing came out. When he pulled her against his side, she didn’t hesitate, just curled up against his hard chest, trying to control the shakes. He simply held her, the steady beat of his heart under her ear. His hand stroked her back in a slow and steady rhythm that eventually allowed her to draw a deep breath. And another. “Don’t like snakes,” she finally murmured.
“Most people don’t.” She could hear the smile in his voice.
She sat up suddenly and immediately missed the warmth of his arms. “Somebody put the snake there on purpose.”
Hunter nodded. “Looks like. I didn’t see any obvious entry points. With the AC on, it wouldn’t have come inside, anyway. Somebody probably caught it in the forest and brought it here. I’ll have Fish check with the local dealers, just in case.”
“How did you get in?” she asked.
“When I saw what was happening, I called Pete. Asked if you had a key hidden anywhere. Seriously? You put it under a fake frog? That’s like putting a neon sign out front.”
Which was probably how whoever was behind this had gotten in. With her heart still hammering, she wasn’t up for a lecture, too, so she put her hand over his mouth. When she realized what she’d done, she jerked her hand back, mortified.
Quick as a snake himself, he caught her wrist. “You did good, cher.”
He turned her hand over and brushed a quick kiss over her palm. Charlee froze as a snap of electricity raced up her arm and warmed her from the inside out. Their eyes met for one long moment, and she saw that same flash of attraction reflected back at her. He glanced away and dropped her hand like he’d been burned. Charlee wrapped her arms around her middle, that darn flush heating her face again. She should act like it was no big deal, right?
Footsteps pounded up the steps, and Pete swung the door open, eyes narrowing as he saw them on the couch. “Everybody okay?”
Charlee jumped to her feet and immediately regretted it. Her head throbbed, but she ignored it and propped her fists on her hips. “I thought we already talked about you barging in without permission.”
He mirrored her stance. “After Hunter said he had to get in your house, fast, and then didn’t answer his phone, yeah, I barged in.”
Hunter slowly stood. “I’ll show you.” He turned toward the bedroom, and Pete followed.
Charlee stayed where she was. She didn’t want to see the ball cap or remember the coiled snake slithering over her new comforter. Call her crazy, but now she’d have to buy a new one. Which made her mad. She’d really loved that pretty thing. Had spent months finding just the right shade of blue.
Pete reappeared almost instantly, Hunter behind him. “Walk us through what happened, squirt.”
Hunter holstered his phone and sat down beside her again. “Crime scene techs are on their way.”
Charlee took a minute to corral the thoughts racing around in her head. She looked up at Pete, who paced in front of her small fireplace. “Sit. You’re making me dizzy.”
He plopped into an armchair next to the sofa, eyes brimming with concern. “You sure you’re okay?”
She nodded, then said, “After Hunter dropped me off, I fell asleep on the couch. When I woke up, I was hungry, so I put some pizza in the oven to defrost while I took a shower. Afterward, when I went into the bedroom, I didn’t see it immediately. I saw the ball cap.”
Hunter went still, alert. “What about the ball cap caught your attention?”
She swallowed, tightened her grip on the robe when she felt his eyes on her. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but with everything going on…anyway, I’d seen a cap just like it before. Twice, actually. The first time was a year ago. JJ was wearing one just like it the day we kayaked the Shoals.” Her voice wanted to shake, so she took another deep breath to steady it. “The second time was when I came to the other day. There was one in the mud, near Brittany. But I hadn’t seen anyone in the group wearing it beforehand. I would have noticed.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and looked at Pete. “I know you probably think I’m crazy, or that I’m imagining things, but I know what I saw.”
The two men exchanged glances. Charlee tensed, waiting for them to tell her she was overreacting or “misremembering,” as Rick used to say, but neither one did. Hunter’s voice took on the same soothing rumble as before. “You’re not crazy, cher. Not a bit.” He looked at Pete. “Did your guys find a ball cap like that at the scene? I don’t remember anyone on my team mentioning it.”
Pete already had his phone in his hand. “We’re about to find out.”
Charlee turned to Hunter. “What now?”
They heard several vehicles pull up outside. “That’s the crime scene unit.”
She eased to her feet, steadied herself. “I need to get out of here for a while.” It was one thing to be the one tracking down bad guys, but quite another to feel like someone was stalking her. Knowing they’d been in her house while she showered rattled her more than she wanted to admit.
Hunter let the techs in, had a word with Pete, and then reappeared. “We’ll go get some food in Ocala while they do their thing here.”
Charlee nodded, went to turn off the oven, get dressed. “I need a new comforter.”
* * *
The techs were gone by the time they got back. They’d taken her old comforter set with them, as she’d requested, but they’d left fingerprint dust and sandy footprints everywhere. “You relax, cher. I’ll clean up.”
Charlee snorted and carried three sacks of groceries in from the car.
He shook his head and followed, wondering when mule-headed stubbornness had become such a turn-on.
Once the food was put away, she held up a dust rag and a broom. “Name your poison.”
“You dust. I’ll sweep.”
She simply nodded, and that, more than anything, told him how badly the snake had shaken her. Charlee talked, laughed. This subdued version wasn’t the real woman. Pete had filled him in on the snake scenario from her childhood, and now Hunter had forced her to run from another coiled snake. But she hadn’t hesitated. Her unexpected trust in him and mental strength delivered a one-two punch that left him reeling.
Especially when he brought in the new flowered sheets and comforter.
As they made the bed together, he refused to think about how much he’d liked the feel of her in his arms earlier. Or how much he’d like to hold her again, to curl up with her under all those roses, run his hands over every inch of her smooth skin. He shoved the thought away. Not going to happen.
Charlee wouldn’t meet his gaze, but the blush staining her cheeks ma
de him wonder if she wasn’t thinking similar thoughts. He shook his head. Or maybe she was just embarrassed to have him in her bedroom.
The minute they were done, she hurried back to the kitchen. She glanced up when he walked in, hands clenched on the back of a kitchen chair. “Thanks for being there today, Lieutenant. I appreciate it.”
He knew she used his title when she needed distance. He studied her eyes, saw exhaustion and a flash of anger. Guilt slapped him. “I screwed up. I should have made sure the house was secure before I left you alone.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
He remembered his brother’s fear that someone had discovered he was snitching for the cops and how Hunter had dismissed his worry. “Yeah, I should have. It’s my job to know.”
When she opened her mouth to protest, he said, “Where do you keep extra bedding? I’ll take the couch tonight.”
She narrowed her eyes, shook her head. “You’re not staying here.”
He’d expected that. “Either I stay, or you can move in with Pete or Josh for a while. But I figured you’d be more comfortable at home.” He grinned. “Besides, I don’t snore as loud as your brothers.”
Her chin came up. “I’ll be fine. I’m trained law enforcement, remember?”
“I know.” He stepped around the table and put his hands on her shoulders. When she stiffened, he let his hands drop. “You’re tough and smart, so you know you have to be careful. Some nut job is sending you messages, and until we catch him, I’ll be around as backup.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I won’t let you run my life, Lieutenant.”
“Not my intention. But I’m not leaving until this is over. Me or your brothers. Your choice, cher.”
He hoped she wouldn’t fight him, but he wouldn’t back down. Their gazes locked, held, and when she finally nodded, some of the tension eased out of him.
She slipped down the hall, returned moments later with a stack of bedding. “Help yourself to anything you need in the bathroom.”
“I’ll check the perimeter before I bed down.” He couldn’t listen to the water run, wanted to avoid the mental image of her peeling off her clothes before climbing into bed, so he went outside and called the hospital, relieved that Brittany had come through the surgery just fine. The bullet hadn’t nicked any major organs, and the doctor expected her to make a full recovery.
He hung up and walked around the cottage, testing the locks on all the windows, then made a wider sweep of the woods surrounding it. He didn’t come back inside until long after her bedroom light went off and he’d convinced himself that climbing under those flowered sheets with her would be a very bad idea.
* * *
Charlee tossed and turned, but she couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw shiny black snake eyes staring back at her, that scary tongue flicking in and out. She wanted to cover her ears to keep the sound of rattles from echoing in her head. Hunter had taken care of the snake. It couldn’t hurt her. It wasn’t in the bed.
Her head understood completely. The rest of her still tended to shake, huddled under the covers.
Finally, she slid the blankets back and stumbled to the kitchen. It wasn’t until she had the lights on that she remembered Hunter trying to sleep on her too-short sofa. She slowly eased the door to the kitchen closed behind her, turned on the oven, and started assembling her baking supplies.
The simple motions of beating the butter and eggs, stirring the batter, centered her like nothing else. No electric mixer tonight. She needed the steady rhythm of the wooden spoon. As she stirred, she finally let her mind slide back to the day JJ died. For months, she’d tried to block it all out, but more and more, the nagging sense that something was not quite right about the whole horrible day slithered into her mind at odd hours. She took a deep breath for courage and decided to wade back into her memories, see if something popped.
Once she slipped the first pan of cupcakes into the oven, she set out another bowl and started on a batch of chocolate chip cookies. As she added ingredients, she imagined she was viewing last year’s scene through a camera lens. She couldn’t quite get her mind to focus on JJ’s lifeless body, so she let her memory slip over to Nora and how she’d found her. Charlee saw her, lying half in the water, eyes closed, a branch over her neck, bruises coloring her skin.
Charlee went over it all several times, until her head hurt from trying to think so hard. Frustrated, again, that no answers leaped into her mind, she tucked the memories back into the box she kept them in and turned her focus to her baking.
The first cupcakes were ready to frost, and several dozen cookies cooled on racks when Hunter eased into the room, looking far too wide awake for…she glanced at the clock—two thirty in the morning. He wore only a pair of low-slung jeans, the top button undone, no shirt.
She swallowed hard, forced herself to look away. Oh my. She’d known he had a rock-hard chest, had felt it, but knowing and seeing were two very different things. She gripped the spoon to keep from reaching out to see if that crisp chest hair felt as good as it looked.
She turned and crashed into him with a small yelp. “I, ah, didn’t hear you come up behind me.” She held the bowl of frosting in front of her like a shield. When would she stop stammering like an idiot in his presence?
Hunter grinned that slow grin and scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin. “Smells so good in here, I feel like a cartoon character being drawn along. Woke me up, and I couldn’t resist.” He looked at her like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet.
A delicious heat started in her midsection. Then his eyes went to the cupcakes, and she gave herself a kick. Of course. Her baking put that longing in his eyes. Not the tomboy little sister with her unimpressive curves and fear of snakes. But one silly corner of her heart wondered what it would be like if he did look at her that way.
She pasted a bright smile on her face. “Eat. That’s what they’re for.”
He grabbed two, put the first in his mouth and made a humming sound in the back of his throat that she felt all the way to her toes. “Cher, these are amazing.”
Charlee nodded and kept her eyes on the frosting to hide the blush staining her cheeks. She jumped, surprised, when Hunter stepped beside her and tucked a finger under her chin, tilting her to face him. With his mesmerizing green eyes locked on hers, he took his index finger and swiped at her cheek, slowly wiping off a smear of frosting. Time stopped as he licked the frosting off his finger, his eyes dark and hungry on hers.
Charlee felt his heated gaze in every pore of her body, and it sent a delicious warmth through her. She gripped the bowl tighter so she wouldn’t toss it aside and snatch him close. She wanted to run her hands all over his hard chest, the sleek muscle, feel his calloused hands on her. He always had that effect on her, making her want things she’d never known she wanted. Never known she might be capable of. With Rick, things had been…comfortable. Pleasant. But the storm Hunter stirred up inside her with just a look threw her completely. She had no idea how to react.
He reached into the bowl and scooped up another blob of frosting, then slowly licked it off his finger.
Charlee watched, mesmerized, as those green, green eyes pierced through all her defenses, glinting wickedly. Everything stilled as she read the invitation in his eyes, daring her to get closer, to drop her guard and come play with him. The metal mixing bowl slid from her grip and crashed to the floor, bounced once. She started at the sound, and that lazy grin reappeared.
“You have the same effect on me, cher.” He scooped up the bowl and set it on the counter. Then turned back to her and pulled her closer, his big hands cupping her shoulders as he stopped suddenly, stilled.
Had he really said that? About her? Her breath hung suspended as she waited for him to take that last step, to bring her flush against his body, to kiss her. Instead, his gaze roamed her face, and she watched a stor
m rage in those piercing green eyes, despite the want clear in every hard line of his body.
Her heart pounded at the way he was looking at her, and she almost, almost pulled him in for a long kiss just to break the delicious tension. Kiss me, already.
The oven timer buzzed.
Charlee leaped back, face flaming. You’re an idiot. This was Hunter, another overprotective macho male who’d try to take over her life if she let him. Hadn’t he already maneuvered his way into her house? She wouldn’t risk letting him into her heart, too. Been there, done that.
Hunter stepped away from her and rammed a hand through his close-cropped hair. His obvious frustration made her feel much better.
The timer buzzed again, and he hitched his chin at her. “Are you going to get that?”
It took her brain a moment to catch up, then she grabbed the oven door. Her hand was halfway inside when he shoved a pot holder in her direction. “Don’t burn yourself.”
Charlee shook her head as she pulled the tray of cookies out and set them on a cooling rack. The man made her stupid.
By the time she had herself under control enough to look at him again, he lounged against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, expression blank.
He straightened, his tone crisp and professional. “You should get some rest. It’s been a long couple of days.”
She blinked at the sudden change, but then a yawn escaped as exhaustion seeped through her defenses. She turned off the oven, headed for the sink.
Hunter nudged her aside with his hip. “You put things away. I’ll wash up.”
When she started to protest, he tapped a brisk finger over her lips. “It’s not an offer I make often. Take advantage.”
Within a few minutes, the cupcakes and cookies were in air-tight containers, and her counters and table gleamed. Hunter guided her back to her room with a hand on her back, and her heart started pounding. Would he expect to climb under the covers with her, get pushy, the way Rick had?