Dangerous Encounters: A Romantic Suspense Boxed Set

by Farrar, Marissa

  She nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  Jenna took a moment to ground herself, inhaling slowly and checking around to make sure there wasn’t any sign of the person who had looked like Garrett, or if she felt like she was being watched. She didn’t.

  The tomato procession had long since passed. “So, what’s next?” she asked, trying to keep her voice bright.

  He lifted his eyebrows and smiled knowingly. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  From beneath the stalls, crates started to be pulled out. People began to jostle, laughter rising through the crowds.

  Something red and tennis-ball shaped flew through the air, toward Jenna’s head. She ducked, but the tomato hit her on the shoulder. The fruit had been overripe and soft, and didn’t hurt in the slightest, but juice flew up, splattering her cheek, tomato seeds clinging to her hair.

  She blinked in surprise, her hands held out either side of her, her mouth open. Ryker took one look at her and burst out laughing.

  “You can be a real asshole, sometimes,” she said, but Ryker’s laughter only lasted for a minute as another tomato flew at him from behind and hit him square in the back of the head. Juice exploded around him, seeds dripping down his neck.

  Jenna squealed in laughter, and pointed at him. “Now who’s the funny one?”

  Another tomato flew through the air, then another, and another. Everyone around them yelled and laughed. Jenna spied one of the crates that had been pulled out from beneath the stand selling bruschetta. Tomatoes tumbled from it as people grabbed handfuls to throw at their companions.

  Single-minded, Jenna ran for the crate. She snatched the fattest tomato she could see and turned back to Ryker. He stood, his hands in front of him, eyebrows raised, his fingers beckoning her in a ‘just try it’ motion.

  Remembering the odd occasion she’d played baseball at school, Jenna pulled back her arm and let the tomato fly. It hit Ryker smack in the middle of his chest, splattering all up his neck and across his biceps. He stood, staring at her, while she bit her lip, failing to repress her grin.

  He squared his shoulders, bull-like, and began to stalk toward her. “Right, now you’re going to get it.”

  She gave a scream of delight, and he caught her around the waist, hauling her, one armed toward the box of red, juicy fruit. She fought him, but only half-heartedly, as he grabbed another tomato and squashed it on the top of her head. Juice dribbled down her forehead, running into her eyes. She scrabbled backward, grabbing another tomato. Squealing, she ducked her head, her eyes half closed to protect them while she and Ryker exchanged hits, so they ended up in a grappling of hands and slippery juice. She squashed the ripe fruit to his chest, while he scooped up another and crushed it against her collarbone, so juice ran into her cleavage.

  Around them, others were joining in with full force, until the sidewalk was covered in a slick of tomato pulp. She skidded, falling to the ground and pulling Ryker down with her so they landed in a tangle of limbs. He held himself above her, a chuckle shaking his body, while she lay on her back in the mess, both of them covered in tomato juice, pips and skin. She laughed so hard her ribs hurt.

  Ryker looked down at her and their laughter faded. Their eyes locked, creating a moment that included only them, the rest of the world and the mayhem surrounding them fading into the background.

  He lowered his face, his lips capturing hers. They kissed, full and intense, his body pressing her against the sidewalk. She didn’t care that others were around her, or that she thought she’d seen Garrett before. All she cared about was the feel of Ryker above her, as if he was shielding her with his body, and the taste of his mouth on hers.

  Laughter, this time snide and cutting, came loud from above them.

  A male voice, “Hey, look, man. Ryker Russo has squashed a whale.”

  Another laugh. “He’s giving it mouth to mouth.”

  Gutfuls of laughter burst around them.

  Ryker’s whole body tensed and he broke the kiss, staring into her eyes. He lowered his mouth to her ear and quietly said, “Sorry about this.” And then he jumped to his feet.

  Jenna pulled herself up to sitting.

  Ryker squared off against two guys, who punched each other on the shoulder, apparently thrilled at their own humor.

  His lip curled in a snarl. “What the hell did you just say?”

  They glanced at each other. “Nothing, Ryker,” said the bigger of the two. “We were just having some fun.”

  He stepped menacingly toward them. “Fun, huh? You think insulting people is fun?”

  The larger guy held up his hands in defense. “Seriously, Ryker. She’s kind of big. We were only having a laugh.”

  Ryker reached out and shoved him in the chest, and he stumbled back a little, slipping in the tomato juice. “Don’t you fucking talk about her!”

  Jenna scrabbled to her feet, looking on in alarm. “Leave it, Ryker. It’s not worth it.” She could feel people staring now. The last thing she wanted was a scene.

  The other guy glanced over at her and suppressed a snort of laughter. “She is pretty massive though. Do you like a bit of booty now, Ryker?”

  Ryker swung at him, his fist connecting with the guy’s jaw.

  Jenna’s hands clutched to her mouth, staring in horror. Shrieks of alarm issued all around them, and people began to push back, creating space around the brawling men.

  The bigger man charged Ryker from behind. Ryker elbowed him in the stomach, and then turned his fist, connecting with his nose with a crack that made Jenna sick to her stomach. The guy ended up doubled over, his hands at his face as blood streamed through his fingertips.

  Neither man appeared to plan on fighting back.

  Ryker pointed a finger at them. “Don’t say a bad word about her again, or you’ll have more than a bloodied nose to worry about.”

  He turned from the men and wrapped his arm around Jenna’s shoulder, leading her away from the mess. People parted as they walked through the crowd, muttering under their breath. Jenna kept her head down, mortified that a fight had been started because of her—and because of her weight, no less. It was embarrassing enough having people call her names in the street, though it was something she’d grown used to, but having someone start a fight about it made her want to vanish into the ground.

  As soon as they got far enough away from the scene of the fight, she shrugged Ryker’s arm off her shoulder.

  “I can’t believe you just did that!”

  His brows knitted together. “What? Stand up for you?”

  “I don’t need you to stand up for me. I’m a big girl, as everyone seems so keen on pointing out.”

  “No one should be calling you names.”

  Something troubled her and she chewed her lower lip before saying, “The thing is, Ryker, did you start that fight because they insulted me, or insulted you?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “No? Those guys were insulting you just as much as me.”

  “How do you work that one out?”

  “Because they were pointing out that you were with me.”

  “Jenna, being with you could never be an insult. You’re gorgeous, and I don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks about me being with you. I hit those guys because they were calling you names. No other reason. I hate that it feels like everyone is out to hurt you. That’s what makes me crazy.”

  “You’re not out to hurt me,” she said, daring to hope.

  He stared deep into her eyes and she wanted to lose herself in their blue depths. “No, Jenna. I’ll never hurt you.”

  More than anything, she wanted to believe him.

  Chapter Twelve

  With the party over, at least for them, they walked back to Ryker’s house. Ryker held her hand the whole way, and she found herself clutching tightly to his fingers, not wanting him to let go. Despite everything, her resolve to leave as soon as possible was unraveling with every moment she spent in his company.
Even though she hated that Ryker had become embroiled in a fight because of her, her heart lightened at the thought of someone caring enough to stand up for her. She’d never experienced that before.

  Jenna had never been so torn in her whole life—even when she’d been with Garrett and had known deep down that he was bad for her. Back then, she’d known in her heart she needed to leave him, while her head reasoned that he was all she was ever going to be worth. Now everything was topsy-turvy. Her heart longed to stay, while her head told her it was impossible. But the longer she stayed here, the quieter the voice telling her all those reasons for leaving became.

  They made it back to his place with no further incidents. Mikey still sat on the couch in the exact same position he’d been when they left. The only change was that he now wore a large pair of headphones which were plugged into his computer. The boy didn’t even notice that he now had company.

  Ryker walked over to him and waved his hand in front of his brother’s face, making Mikey jump.

  “We’re home,” Ryker said.

  “Yeah, and you just made me die!”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. You only got a fright.”

  Mikey rolled his eyes. “No, on my game. I got shot in the head ‘cause of you.”

  Ryker exhaled and shook his head. “Good to see you, too.”

  They left Mikey to it and headed into the kitchen. Both of them were still covered in tomato juice, though it had dried on the way home, making their clothes crusted and glued to their bodies.

  “Do you think you’ll get in trouble?” Jenna asked Ryker. “You know, because of the fight?”

  He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I hope not. Neither of those guys are the type to get the cops involved. I didn’t exactly make the best of role models for Mikey, though. If the news gets back to him—which it probably will knowing this town—I won’t have a leg to stand on next time he gets into a fight and I attempt to ground him for it.”

  “Sorry,” she said again.

  He gave her a rueful smile. “It wasn’t your fault. None of this is.”

  “Really? ‘Cause I kind of feel like I attract trouble.”

  He gave her that intense, knowing look. “Are you calling me trouble?”

  She smiled. “Well you look dangerous, but I guess looks can be deceiving considering I’m the one who keeps causing the problems.”

  He edged close, his hips pressing against hers, his hands sneaking around her waist and sliding down to rest on her bottom. His proximity, combined with the hooded expression of desire in his eyes, made her shiver with lust. She couldn’t remember being so physically attracted to a man before.

  He lifted his hand and tucked her hair behind her ear, his fingertips trailing around to rest against her cheek. His eyes searched hers, deep and intense, and he leaned in and spoke in her ear, “You have tomato seeds stuck to the end of your nose.”

  “Oh!” She laughed and lifted her hand to pick the offending seeds off. “So I do.” She suddenly became acutely aware of the gunk from the tomatoes rotting and festering on her skin, and her aversion to bacteria set in.

  “Actually, do you think I could take a shower? I feel gross.”

  Ryker grinned. “Sure. I could do with getting cleaned up myself. I’ll take the main bathroom, if you want to use the ensuite. Your bags are all in my bedroom, and there’s a lock on the door.”

  “Do I need it to keep you out?” she said, only half-joking.

  “It would take more than a lock,” he grinned back.

  Hugging herself with happiness, she turned from him and headed upstairs to his bedroom. He’d explained to her earlier how the bedroom had been his father’s when he’d been alive, but since Ryker was now the man of the house, he’d moved into it, and Mikey had taken Ryker’s old room.

  She pushed open the door to find her bags positioned on the chaise longue at the foot of the bed. There were fresh towels in the bathroom. She hesitated, wondering if she should use her own towels as was her habit. She normally couldn’t stand the idea of having something that might have touched someone else’s body on her own skin. But the idea of the towels touching Ryker’s body was different. If anything, she hoped he had already dried himself with the towels. The image of him standing naked on the exact same spot she stood now flashed through her head. How much of his body did he have tattooed? Did he have anything else pierced? Was his body as rock hard as she’d felt when he’d held her against him? Her mind conjured up all the glorious images of a naked Ryker, and without thinking about what she was doing, she reached out and took the towel from the rack and pressed it to her face. The material was soft, fluffy, and warm, and she inhaled, drinking in what scent of him remained.

  You could have the real thing, a little voice piped in her head. He wants you, even if it is only for a mercy fuck.

  No, her more sensible voice answered. He does seem to really like you. But you can’t have him. He might not mind the extra pounds, but when he sees how hideously deformed your body is now, he’ll run a mile.

  Jenna put the towel back on the rack and pressed her lips together. How could she be so ecstatic one minute, and confused and frightened the next?

  She gave a sigh and began to peel her crusty clothes from her body. Her t-shirt was stiff from tomato juice, her jeans sticking to her legs so she had to pull and tug to drag them from her thick thighs. Finally, just in her bra and panties, she turned on the shower. The water quickly ran hot and she removed her underwear, dropping the items to the floor.

  Stepping beneath the water, she used Ryker’s shampoo and body wash. The scents of cederwood and citrus filled the steamy space. Jenna didn’t mind that only male products were available. To her, it felt like another way to immerse herself in Ryker.

  Clean and refreshed, she stepped out and toweled herself off. Instead of doing her usual body inspection in the mirror, she ignored her reflection and left the bathroom to retrieve a clean set of clothing from her bag. She unzipped the hold all and reached in...

  And froze.

  Everything had been moved around.

  The way she packed her bag was done with military precision. Her shoes always went on the bottom, covered in her toiletries bag so she never needed to worry about dirt from the soles of her shoes touching her clothes. Her underwear was always positioned next, kept in two zip-lock bags—one bag for clean, another for anything that needed to be laundered. Her leggings and jeans were normally neatly folded on top, with her t-shirts and sweaters folded on top of those.

  Right now, staring down into her bag, nothing was in the right order. Hell, it was barely folded. Her jeans were mixed up with her sweaters, her sneakers pointing upward and touching her clean underwear zip-lock bag.

  Someone had gone through her things.

  Goose bumps crawled over her skin and she dropped the bag and stepped back, staring at it as if it might suddenly grow jaws and teeth and bite her. She clutched the towel closer to her body. Had Ryker moved her stuff around when he’d brought her bags in? She didn’t understand why he would do that, but she needed to know.

  Leaving the bag where it was, she hurried to the bedroom door, opened it and leaned out into the hall.

  “Ryker?” she called, unsure if he was out of the shower himself. Then a little louder, “Ryker!”

  His head appeared at the bottom of the stairs, his dark hair damp from the shower, his skin pinker than usual and shiny clean. “Hey, what’s up?” He caught sight of her only wearing the towel and his eyebrows lifted. “Did you decide you didn’t want to use that lock after all?”

  She glared at him. “Stop thinking about sex and get up here. I need to ask you something.”

  The smile fell from his mouth as he realized something was wrong and he took the stairs, two at a time to come to stand in the hall in front of her. “What’s happened?”

  Still holding the towel in one hand, she took his arm with the other and pulled him toward the bedroom. “I need to show you.”


  In the bedroom, she stood over her bag. “Do you see how everything is all messed up, all the different items of clothing jumbled together, and the shoes pointing toward the top of the bag?”

  He glanced at her as if she was crazy. “Uh... yeah, I guess.”

  “Well, I never pack like that. My stuff is always folded and in the right order.”

  His eyebrows pulled together as he studied the bag. “Couldn’t it have gotten messed up while I was carrying it and throwing it into the truck?”

  She shook her head. “Not like that. Stuff can’t switch places, and I pack tightly enough so things don’t move around.” She focused her gaze on his. “Please, Ryker. I know what I’m talking about here. Someone has been through my things, I can feel it.” She hesitated, and then said, “Was it you?”

  He shook his head. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t go through your stuff.”

  “Someone has, and if it wasn’t you, there’s only two people it could have been.”

  He stared at her. “I’m going to guess Mikey is one. But who is the other?”

  “Garrett.”

  “You still think you saw him?”

  “I don’t know. But I know someone has touched my things, and if it wasn’t you, and Mikey says it wasn’t him, then that only leaves one other option.”

  “Okay, let’s go ask Mikey.”

  “Just give me a minute. I need to put some clothes on.”

  “Oh, sure.” He stood where he was, his arms folded across his chest.

  She glared at him again. “In privacy!”

  He repressed a smile, and turned to wait in the hall.

  Jenna didn’t like being alone. It felt as if whoever had touched her things was still here, watching her. Quickly, she grabbed a set of underwear, a clean pair of jeans and a baggy, v-neck t-shirt, and pulled them on. She tried not to think about whose hands might have fingered the material not so long ago.

  Dressed, she went out into the hallway where Ryker waited. He took her by the hand and together they headed downstairs and back into the living room where Mikey continued to play his games.