by Zoe Dawson
“It is a mystery. You would have thought he would have needed the dough.”
Her mind sifted through scenarios and speculations, trying to assemble facts from assumptions. Getting out of the country was wise. Doing it would have been difficult. He would have had to buy silence, and if he’d ended up in Bellise, someone would remember. She had to think about it. “He did have considerable means to buy a new identity. He seized a lot of money from the wealthiest of the government officials once the coup was over. Not many survived the new regime.”
His mouth flattened out. “No, it was a bloodbath around that time.”
There were too many unanswered questions to just disappear somewhere. Where had he gone? In all the many hours she had been looking for The Butcher, there was simply no trace of him.
He rose and said, “Let’s get some lunch, then I’ve got to take my mom in to the doctor.”
“You cooking?” she teased.
“You did make breakfast, so I guess I can throw some sandwiches together.”
They went down the stairs, but Scarecrow’s mom was still sleeping.
In the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and grabbed the lunch meat, mayo, lettuce, and tomato, and set everything on the counter.
She helped him make her sandwich, rinsing off leaves of crisp lettuce while he spread the mayo on the bread and then layered on the sliced ham and turkey.
“So, last night,” he said, glancing at her.
She sighed, running her hand down his arm, pausing over his biceps. “Yeah, last night. You wanted me. I wanted you.” She shrugged as if the end results were obvious. “The way I see it, this can be a win-win situation the whole way around, for both of us.”
He walked to the pantry and came back with a jar of canned peaches.
“Homemade, huh?”
“Yeah, my mom does a lot of canning.” He dumped a portion each in small bowls. “So, we’re agreeing to a temporary affair while I help you figure out if The Butcher is here in Bellise and I get the house ready for a sale.”
“Yes, that’s the plan.”
“Lemonade?” he asked, and she shook her head. “I don’t want to hurt your mum’s feelings, but I’m not fond of lemonade.”
“Me either,” he said. “I’m a sweet tea guy.”
“You sure are, love.”
But despite her grand plan, Scarlett was well aware that she’d have to protect her heart in the process, because as she’d feared, he had the ability to affect her more than she’d ever been affected before. And a broken heart at the end of their affair wasn’t something she wanted, or needed, because there was no doubt in her mind that they would go their separate ways. No matter how good the sex was between them, she could never be with Scarecrow. He needed someone who would be with him in San Diego. After she exacted her revenge and hopefully discovered the trove of lost treasure, she didn’t know what she would have left. She hadn’t thought that far in advance.
“It’s a plan that works for both of us.” He took a drink of his tea, his expression earnest. “I enjoy being with you, Scarlett. I think you should be careful, too. There was someone watching you. For all you know, it could be The Butcher. Maybe he wants to get rid of the determined woman trying to track him down.”
She lifted a brow, surprised to hear the possessive tone to his voice. To think that he might be even a tad worried about her sent a tiny thrill racing through her. “Be careful, or else I’ll start to think you care.” She forked up one of the plump peaches and set it between her lips. She leaned forward, and he covered her mouth, taking half the fruit. God, he tasted as good as the peach. Better when his lips lingered over hers, warm, soft, and firm.
She was teasing him, but her traitorous heart skipped a beat when she realized that he wasn’t the least bit amused. His serious, protective look said more than words ever could—that maybe, possibly, she was beginning to matter too much. And she wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.
Then he glanced away, severing the profound moment.
“You can relax. I do know how to take care of myself.”
“I have no doubt. But still, be careful anyway.” He rose, and she got up. He walked her to the front porch, and she set her hand against that impressive chest. He leaned in and met her mouth in a bone-melting kiss.
When they parted, she met his gorgeous green eyes, hard with a lethal edge. “Do you have a weapon?”
She smiled. “I have several, and I know how to use each one. Does that make you feel marginally better?”
“Marginally.” He leaned in again and asked, “How about dinner tonight? Think I can get some of that jambalaya?”
“I guess I can concede that and make up a new batch.”
“Will we have to eat it on paper plates?”
She chuckled. “No. I’ll pick up some new plates in town.”
“And a broom?”
“I’ve got one of those.”
She stepped off the porch, aware that he was watching her. She didn’t look back until she got across the road. He was still standing there. She blew him a kiss, and when he caught it, her heart melted all over again.
Scarecrow was trouble, and she was completely in it, unabashedly tangled up with a man who could hurt her in a profound way, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. He was warm and strong, and he made her feel good, gave her the kind of pleasure she only dreamed about. He was going to help her, and that was something so unexpected it still made her a little dizzy. When the time came, when she found The Butcher, she would exact her justice, then she and Scarecrow would go their separate ways.
She would just have to keep her wayward heart in check in the meantime.
Right. That would be easier said than done.
12
Damn. He was so in over his head where Scarlett was concerned, like a drowning man with no lifesaver in sight who kept getting sucked in deeper and deeper. He’d spent what seemed like forever resisting her, sparring with her, lusting for her until it all had collided in a frenzy of demanding, carnal sex. And what Scarecrow had come to realize in the aftermath of that culmination had nearly sent him reeling. Somewhere along the way he’d started developing feelings for Scarlett. Beyond the smoldering desire and aggravation she inspired, his sub-conscience had taken an emotional turn, and he wasn’t at all happy with that particular revelation.
Their attraction was no longer a teasing, seductive game between them that they were both skirting. They’d leapt over personal and intimate boundaries that never, ever should have been crossed. He wasn’t the type of guy who sought out one-night-stands, and he hated that his time with Scarlett had been reduced to something so cheap. But there was no future for the two of them together, and they both knew it.
He’d be crazy to get mixed up with her beyond their one night together. He was entrenched in Coronado, and she was figuring out where she wanted to be. He had his mom to look after and a job to do for Uncle Sam. A relationship would be complex and required commitment. He was a warrior. It’s how he defined himself. Even though she was on the same page as he was, they both fought the same insidious evil in the world, a connection that went deeper than any woman he’d ever met.
Unfortunately, none of those strong and valid arguments made him stop wanting her. Just the opposite, actually. They had both endured, both of them refusing to be victims. In fact, not only had they prevailed over adversity, they had grown stronger because of it.
When he looked in her eyes, he saw a survivor.
It was as though one taste of her had left him ravenous for the whole entire feast. He wanted to eat her up and use his tongue to lick and savor every single inch of her body.
Especially her breasts, the soft curve of her belly, and between her thighs…
“Son? Arlo? You still with me?” Startled out of his thoughts, Scarecrow jerked in the driver’s seat and shook off the erotic images dancing in his head. He glanced over at his mom and was reminded of yet another reason why he’d do well to keep his
distance from Scarlett. Any further involvement with her could only lead to trouble for him, and he had to focus on his mom and getting her settled.
No matter how much the provocative thought tempted him. “Sorry ’bout that,” he muttered, and tried to remember what they’d been discussing before his mind had taken a sharp detour down a road better left untraveled.
“You are very preoccupied. What is taking you away?” she asked as she leaned back in her seat and regarded him in that speculative way of hers. “All during this trip you’ve seem distracted, like something’s on your mind. Is it your job?”
Scarecrow scrubbed a hand along his jaw and released a frustrated sigh. “Not exactly.”
A dark brow arched over one of his mom’s eyes. “Does it involve a woman, by chance?”
Scarecrow looked away and realized too late that by breaking eye contact with his mom he’d just answered her question with a resounding yes.
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Well I’ll be damned.” A huge grin curved up the corners of her mouth, and her eyes glinted with amusement. “Judging by that pensive look on your face, I’m betting she’s tied you up in knots, and it’s about time. You’ve been playing the field for much too long and you need to settle down.”
Scarecrow rolled his eyes at that, because it was a comment his mom made much too frequently. “Just because you were deliriously, happily married doesn’t mean everyone else needs to be as well. Some of us are just fine being alone.”
“Until the right woman comes along,” she conceded. “I thought you and Scarlett made a nice match.” She followed that up with a smirk.
Growing increasingly uncomfortable with the direction of their conversation, Scarecrow shifted in his seat. The last thing he wanted to do was discuss Scarlett and the way they “matched” with his mom. Once they touched, they’d ignited an intense and fiery passion that had burned hotter than anything he ever could have imagined.
Quickly putting the mental breaks on that recollection, he redirected his focus. “How are you feeling now, Mom?” He kept his tone light and casual, but he was surprised that the doctor hadn’t found anything abnormal in her tests.
“Are we done talking about Scarlett?”
He was more than curious to learn as much as he could about her, her childhood and what had happened along the way to create the woman she’d become. “Has she always been like that?”
“Has she always been like what?”
He shrugged. “You know…reckless. Wild. A daring, headstrong, pain in the ass.”
His mom’s soft, lilting laughter filled the car. “Yeah, as long as I’ve known her.” She thought for a moment, then seemed to grow more serious. “Actually, she was pretty standoffish when she first moved in. But I won her over with my coffee cake. That was until your dad started in with his nonsense.”
Intrigued, Scarecrow pushed on a bit further. “What happened?”
“It was a gradual thing, it seemed. There were some days when he was lucid and others when he was just forgetful and awfully paranoid. I can’t explain it.”
“Did you take him to the doctor?” This sounded familiar, exactly what was happening with his mom. “Was Hank around when Dad was acting like that?”
She thought for a moment and said. “Yes, he was. He’d stop by for breakfast almost every day.”
“When did he start coming around?”
She thought for a minute.
“Was it when Scarlett moved in?”
“Why, yes it was. I think you might have competition for her affections.”
“Hank doesn’t worry me.”
She chuckled. “Yes, I think that’s evident from the way she was looking at you today.”
But he did wonder why Hank was suddenly showing up. It could be he wanted an excuse to get close to their sexy next-door neighbor. What else could it be? Had he been hoping for an inheritance? He knew his parents were well-off. His mom had come with money from her family, and there was still plenty in her bank account. Enough to keep her in assisted living for the rest of her life.
It made him think of Scarlett and what she’d lost. He was unable to imagine losing her parents at such a young age and in such a violent way. Obviously, the loss of them had been a huge, defining moment in Scarlett’s life that had forever changed the young, innocent little girl she’d been. It was good that they were on the same page about this affair. Besides, the bits and pieces Scarecrow had just learned about Scarlett’s childhood were enough to tell him she most likely had unresolved emotional issues from the past that were going to end up taking her down a destructive path if she didn’t learn to curb her daring and brazen behavior.
He reached out and clasped his mom’s hand.
“You feeling better now that we’ve been to the doctor’s?” she asked.
“Actually, I’m still wondering what is giving you these episodes.”
“What episodes?”
“The ones where you can’t remember things and you get very tired. One minute you seem fine about the move and the next you get very upset.”
“I am upset. This is my home. It’s also your home. It makes me sad to think your dad’s legacy is going to be sold.”
He couldn’t help but be suspicious of Hank and his motivations. He seemed benign, but Scarecrow remembered what his uncle had been capable of.
“Has Hank asked you for anything?”
She was silent for a moment. “What do you mean?”
“Does he want something? Did he want something from Dad? Maybe a loan? Has he been pressuring you?”
He drove into the driveway and noticed Hank’s car parked there. “Speak of the devil,” he said as he got out of the car. He went around to the passenger side and helped his mom out. They went up the stairs. “Didn’t I lock the door?”
“He has a key just in case I need him. Really, Arlo, he’s just concerned for our welfare,” she said. “There’s no need to worry.” She picked up the watering can and walked back down the stairs. “I’m going to water the flowers, then have something to eat. How about you?”
“I already ate. I think I’ll go for a run.” Scarecrow went into the house and found Hank in the kitchen just closing the fridge door. He held up a glass of lemonade. “How did the trip to the doctor go? How’s the old coot?”
“They didn’t find anything wrong with her. She got a clean bill of health. He also said that you had brought her in for a routine med check. Everything seems to be fine.”
He gave Scarecrow a smile that was as deceptive as the man himself. Hank sat at the table and set the glass of lemonade down.
He couldn’t dismiss his gut reaction that Hank was up to something, just like he couldn’t ignore the feeling that Scarlett wasn’t here to chili farm. There was something going on with Hank. “Do you need money, Hank? Is this why you’ve all of a sudden taken your familial duties so seriously?”
He stood, furious indignation on his face, and stared at him, his gaze narrowed into dark, angry slits. “How dare you say that to me? I’m the one here for Aunt Rosemary while you play soldier. Why don’t you get a clue, cuz? She doesn’t want to go anywhere. Seems to me that you’re the bully here.”
He went to go around the table, and Scarecrow’s protective instincts kicked in. He hadn’t trusted his uncle, and he sure as hell trusted Hank even less. He grabbed him by the shirt front and shoved him into the wall, then pressed his arm across his throat.
“You’re a user and bully, cuz. If you do anything to hurt my mom or try to manipulate money out of her, I’ll be the last thing you never saw.”
“Arlo! Let him go this instant.”
Scarecrow released his cousin and stepped back. Hank straightened his clothes. Looking over at his mom, he gave her a sour look. Her eyes widened.
He gave Scarecrow a too smug glance. “See you, Aunt Rosemary.”
Scarecrow’s temper spiked to an all-time high. If he didn’t have his hands full with his mom, and she wasn’
t standing there, he would have beat the answers out of his self-righteous bastard of a cousin then and there.
Being the smart man that he was, Hank didn’t push the issues any further, and while Scarecrow stood his ground and his mom came over to him, her eyes blazing, Hank headed for the door and let it slam behind him.
“I swear. I don’t know what’s gotten into you. I will not tolerate that kind of hooligan nonsense in my house with a family member.”
Her face was flushed. “I’m sorry, Mom. He just pushes my buttons. I’m worried he wants something from you.”
“He hasn’t asked me for a thing. Stop being so overprotective. I just wish that this visit didn’t have to be so upsetting. We should be enjoying each other’s company, not fighting about moving and my situation.”
“I’ll try to be more civil,” he said to appease her, but he had no intention of dropping his guard where Hank was concerned.
To blow off steam and get rid of some of his pent-up anger and resentment at Hank, Scarecrow went for a run. The air was humid, but he was used to running in all kinds of weather with boots on his feet and a heavy pack on his back.
As he approached the backside of Scarlett’s house, it was just going into dusk, the shadows deepening as the sun sunk in the west.
He looked forward to having dinner with her tonight as he started across her lawn. Her workers were pulling out for the day, and she was on the front porch. She came down the steps and he started toward her, too far away to get her attention.
Then he saw them. Two men skulking around the back of her patio. She waved to the workers and started toward the back of the house. He increased his speed. But he was still too far away.
As she rounded the house, one of the men grabbed her wrist. She instinctively pulled away, then exchanged heated words with them. With his lungs working overtime and his arms and legs pumping, he reached the patio. He elbowed the guy next to her, and he went down to the ground.