Armed 'N' Ready (Federal K-9)

by Tee O'Fallon

  Bottom line, I fucked up.

  He’d had it all, and now it might be too late. He’d let his obsession over making up for the past and nailing this gun dealer destroy a relationship with the woman he’d fallen in love with. Somehow, she’d managed to get through the cracks of his thick skin and make him love again. After what he’d done, he didn’t deserve her. Maybe she was better off without him.

  With someone who isn’t a cold-hearted sonofabitch. Someone who didn’t use people for his own personal gain. Like that piece of shit in New York who’d hurt her. Shit, hadn’t he done the same thing?

  No. There was no way that faceless motherfucker could possibly have cared about her the way he did. Because Nick had no intention of letting her go.

  When she sniffled and turned away, he knew she was about to cry, and it ripped at his guts like nothing else could. The urge to touch her overrode all his common sense, and he rose to reach for her.

  “You guys okay?”

  He jerked his head around to find Tess and Eric standing in the doorway. He pressed his lips together, annoyed that he’d been so distracted he hadn’t heard their approach.

  “We’re fine.” Andi smiled, but it was obvious to him she wasn’t feeling any joy.

  “You don’t look fine.” Tess eyed him with outright suspicion, and he found himself admiring her protective nature.

  Eric arched a brow but said nothing.

  Nick headed for the door, about to brush past Tess and Eric when the cell phone on his belt vibrated. He grabbed the phone and looked at the screen. Cox.

  “Houston,” he answered. Much as he wanted to tell the agent exactly where to go, he held back.

  “I’m sorry,” Cox began. “I shouldn’t have said that about you and Andi. Whatever you two have going on is none of my business. She’s a great girl.”

  “I don’t need you to tell me that.” He glanced at Andi, whose eyes shimmered with hurt and humiliation. Although he fully intended to verbally rip Cox a new one, this wasn’t the time or the place. “Is that the only reason you’re calling?” He knew damned well it wasn’t.

  “No. The lab boys found something interesting on Matteo’s phone.” That got his attention. “They pulled geocodes from the photo used to identify Andi. Get this…the date stamp indicates the photo was taken on August thirteenth. Two days before the break-in at Myer’s house.”

  Nick began processing the importance of that information, and he put the call on speaker so Eric could hear. “Go on.”

  “We served the warrant on Tuesday, August fifteenth,” Cox continued. “Myer’s house was broken into later that same day, and the photo was stolen during the break-in. That means—”

  “The photo on Matteo’s phone couldn’t have been the same one stolen from the house on August fifteenth, because it’s dated two days earlier,” Nick interrupted. “Did they get a location from the geocoding?”

  “Yeah, it’s the Dog Park Café.”

  “Holy shit.” Eric caught his gaze with a disgusted one of his own. “They were inside the restaurant. Right under our noses.”

  “You got a time stamp on the photo?” Nick asked.

  “Three p.m.,” Cox said.

  “We can pull receipts for that afternoon, maybe get some names,” Andi suggested.

  Nick nodded in agreement. “It’s a long shot. We can check for criminal records on anyone in the DPC that day. Maybe we’ll recognize a name. But if they paid cash or didn’t purchase anything at all, there’d be no paper trail.”

  “The lab guys also found something else in the photo,” Cox added. “A reflection. It wasn’t really visible to the naked eye, and given that it was a photo taken of a photo, clarity is compromised. I just texted you the partially enhanced image.”

  Nick’s phone vibrated as a photo flashed on the screen. He tapped the image. Sure enough, a faint reflection stared back at him, one that hadn’t been visible when he’d first looked at the photo on Matteo’s phone. Using his thumb and forefinger, he enlarged it as much as the phone would allow. He still couldn’t make an ID from the fuzzy image.

  “Stand by.” He handed the phone to Andi. “Do you recognize this guy?”

  She accepted the phone, then peered at the screen, scrunching up her face. After a few seconds, she shook her head. “It’s not clear enough.” She handed it back to him. When her fingers brushed his, awareness flickered in her gaze.

  She still cares. Maybe there was hope after all. Either way, he damned sure wasn’t about to give up on her.

  “The lab’s not finished enhancing the photo,” Cox continued. “They think they can do better, but it will take more time. I’ll send you new images as soon as they’re in.”

  “Later.” He ended the call, then looked at Andi. “How soon can you get started on those receipts?”

  “Let me do that,” Tess offered. “You both look exhausted and should get out of here for a while. I’ll print out all the credit card charges for whatever day you want. I’ll do the same for cash sales, but like you said, we won’t know who paid the bill.”

  “I’ll help you.” Eric rested his hand briefly on Tess’s shoulder, and she gave him a shy smile.

  Something about the gesture struck Nick as being oddly intimate. Then again, over the past two weeks he’d been observing other subtle indications that his friend had more than a passing interest in Andi’s manager.

  “Keep an eye out for receipts with the name ‘Paul Nelson’ on them,” Nick said.

  “Seriously?” Eric’s eyes widened. “Paul Nelson, as in the chief of the Springfield Police Department?”

  “Could be nothing.” He thought back to the day he’d seen Nelson and his dog at the DPC. “I saw him in the parking lot the same day I began working here. Did you know Chief Nelson lives over an hour away? That’s a long way for him to come just to run his dog and grab a cup of coffee. Then again, with the brand-new Porsche he was driving, maybe it doesn’t take that long after all.”

  Eric whistled. “Pricey ride.”

  Andi gave him an incredulous look. “Do you really think the police chief is the man we’re looking for?”

  “I hope not,” Nick said. “His salary might be big enough to purchase a Porsche, or it could have been bought with dirty money. When too many things begin stacking up, we can’t discount that possibility.”

  Eric nodded. “Okay, we’ll look for receipts in his name.”

  “While you’re at it,” he added, “check for any cash sales that include a broccoli rabe and pulled pork panini with a side of mac ’n’ cheese.”

  “Frank Feldman?” Andi stared at him. “Meera’s boyfriend?”

  “Frank’s always been cryptic about what he does for a living, and he shows up at the DPC for a late lunch nearly every day. Right around three o’clock, the same time that photo was taken inside the restaurant.”

  “Here I was thinking Frank was such a sweet man.” Andi rose from the desk, shaking her head. “Then again, it seems I’ve been wrong about most of the men in my life.” Shooting him a dirty look, she slung her bag over her shoulder and began edging between him and the desk.

  He wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her. Instead, he gently caught her arm. “No one is beyond suspicion at the moment, and you have to be careful of everyone.”

  “I’m going home.” She jerked from his grasp then shot out the door past Tess and Eric.

  He followed her. “I’m going with you.”

  “No. You’re not,” she threw back over her shoulder.

  “Humor me.”

  …

  Andi breathed hard, taking in the familiar, earthy smells of pine and moss as her feet pounded on the soft, winding, tree-lined path.

  Even with the shade provided by the overhead tree canopy, her running clothes had darkened with sweat. Her muscles were screaming, and still she couldn’t seem to run fast enough. Or put enough distance between her and Nick.

  Unfortunately, he’d had a spare set of gym clothes in the Explo
rer, and over her strenuous objections he’d not only accompanied her to her house but insisted on being her running mate.

  His heavier footfalls sounded behind her. He wouldn’t say it, but she knew the real reason he was stuck to her like glue, and it had nothing to do with having any real feelings for her. After the botched kidnapping, he wasn’t taking any chances. He needed to ensure her presence at the courthouse tomorrow when Joe turned himself in.

  She wiped the sweat from her brow, sucking in breath after breath as she tried in vain to increase the gap between them. Not likely. They’d been running for twenty minutes, and he’d more than easily kept pace, staying a few feet behind the entire time. On the rare occasions that she’d glanced behind her, he’d looked like a thoroughbred out for a light trot. His perfect body glistened with sweat, but he was barely breathing hard compared to her. The man looked like he could go on for miles. At least he respected her need for space.

  A sharp pain jabbed at her right thigh, and she pulled up, leaning against a tree while she massaged the heat cramp in her leg. The pain worsened, and she uttered a muffled cry.

  “I’ve got this.” He knelt in front of her. “Honey, let go.”

  The pain was steadily worsening, so intense that she did as he commanded, barely registering the endearment. His large hands encircled her upper thigh, kneading and massaging. She’d been leaning on the tree for additional support, but when another spasm shot to her leg, her hands flew to his shoulders.

  “Easy there.” His voice was low and soothing, giving her something else to focus on besides the worsening cramp. “The pain should go away any second now. Hang in there, baby.”

  “Don’t you dare,” she gritted out through clenched teeth, “call me baby. Or honey. Or anything else.”

  Through eyes narrowed in pain, she glimpsed the look of concern on his face, and it only irritated her more. He didn’t have the right to be concerned about her. Not as a person, anyway, let alone as a woman.

  She wanted to hate him but couldn’t. He was only doing his job. Too well. What she had to do was block out any feelings she may have had for him. Still have, she had to admit.

  God help me forget him. Because she wouldn’t be capable of doing it without divine intervention.

  His strong fingers were magically working out the acute cramping in her thigh. Her breathing gradually returned to something resembling normal, and she closed her eyes as his hands continued massaging her muscles. They were totally alone, deep in the center of a secluded, forested area, far from any roads or houses. The only sound was the occasional whisper of leaves in the treetops.

  The truth of her dilemma was horrible. Worse than horrible, it was absolutely, positively soul-destroying. After all he’d done…

  …she still loved him.

  His ministrations eased and turned into a gentle caress with his hands gliding up and down the front and back of her leg. Against her will, she was reminded of how deliciously talented his hands were, and how they’d once set every square inch of her naked body on fire until all she could think about was him moving inside her.

  Lord, why did she have to be born with the self-destructive sucker gene?

  Allowing him to touch her again was the weakest, most stupid thing she could possibly do. She regretted not having brought Stray and Saxon along, anything to provide a buffer between them. But Stray wasn’t healed sufficiently for such a long run, and both dogs would have had a difficult time not overheating.

  When she opened her eyes, he was watching her with an intensity that made her squirm with the need for more space. “You can stop now.” Digging deep into what little remained of her emotional fortitude, she pushed at his shoulders, but he didn’t budge.

  He stood and dropped his hands to her waist. His chest pressed against her as heat poured off them, and her measly effort at resistance began to crumble into a pathetic heap of mush.

  Don’t do it. Be strong. Think about how much he hurt you.

  “Let me go, you lying bastard.” She pushed at him, struggling to free herself, but he pressed her gently back against the tree, pinning her against the rough bark.

  “I don’t want to. I can’t, and I don’t think you really want me to, either.” His gaze flicked to her lips, and her mouth instantly went dry. When she parted her lips to lick them, he kissed her. With a half-hearted effort, she tried tearing away from him. But it was useless. The moment his lips touched hers and his tongue pushed into her mouth, her body betrayed her.

  Desperate need, the likes of which she’d never known, assailed her, taking control of her body until she was clutching his shoulders. She moaned, opening her mouth to his, all the while thinking—no, knowing—this was a huge mistake. As much as her brain warned her to stop this madness, something else was in control. Her heart was making her do things in total opposition to every vestige of common sense she knew she ought to have. And didn’t.

  Of their own volition, her hands slid over the rock-solid curves of his muscled shoulders, down his arms, then to his back. His skin was hot beneath her touch, his muscles tight with restraint as he angled his mouth over hers, kissing her deeper.

  She was about to hand over a piece of her soul to a man who didn’t love her. A man who wasn’t capable of loving her. He’d used her and was still doing it. Worse, she was letting him.

  Weakness made her slide her hands beneath the waistband of his shorts, clutch his muscular buttocks, and pull his erection against her lower abdomen.

  He groaned, throaty and deep, then skimmed his hands along the sides of her breasts before tugging her tank top up and over her head. Next came her bra, followed by her running shorts and panties, and she found herself toeing off her sneakers until she was standing against the tree totally naked beneath his roving hands and mouth.

  If only it didn’t feel so good, so right. But it did.

  Large, warm hands cupped her breasts while he leaned over, flicking her nipples with his tongue until they jutted proudly into his mouth. He straightened and kissed her, surging his hips against hers.

  “Andi,” he whispered as he kissed her again and again. His warm breath and the heat from his body washed over her. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me inside you.”

  She moaned, letting her head fall back against the tree as he pressed hot kisses to her neck. No. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”

  He scooped her up, carrying her to a clearing a few feet away before kneeling and gently laying her down on a bed of soft moss. All the while, his eyes never left hers.

  A moment later, he kicked off his sneakers and peeled off his shorts. He was long, and hard, and thick. And without a condom.

  He rested his forearms on the moss on either side of her head, holding his lower body inches above hers, his erection barely touching her belly. His nostrils flared. His breath came in deep, raspy inhalations, as did hers. Though he said nothing, she understood what he was asking. To make love to her. Without a condom and without commitment.

  There was no chance of her getting pregnant, but in that moment, she wouldn’t have cared if there was. She wanted him that badly.

  Answering his silent question, she parted her legs and tugged his head down for a long, slow kiss. One he’ll never forget. Our last.

  In one smooth motion, he entered her. Her body bowed, her back arching to receive him fully as she hooked her legs over the backs of his thighs.

  His motions intensified, his body pushing deeper inside her. For a fleeting instant, her heart and head began rebelling. No, don’t let them. Don’t feel anything. Except how exquisite his body felt sliding in and out of hers.

  He raised his head and gazed down at her from beneath hooded lids. His nostrils flared wider, his teeth clenching as he breathed harder.

  The first wave of her orgasm washed over her with the strength and speed of a late summer storm. She threw back her head, squeezing her eyes so tightly shut she saw stars.

  His body convulsed as he came inside her. Wrapping her a
rms around his back, she held him to her while their breathing slowed. Part of her—the weak, self-destructive part—didn’t want this moment to end but knew it would, and that it would be the last time they would ever hold each other this way.

  He lowered his forehead to hers. “I love you,” he whispered harshly, his warm breath washing over her face. “I love you.”

  She stiffened. I must have misheard him. Then her heart grew cold. She hadn’t misheard him. This was merely another facet of his master plan to keep her close until he no longer had any use for her.

  The need to get away from him overrode everything, and she pushed frantically at his shoulders and chest, forcing him to withdraw from where he was buried so deeply inside her. For one long heartbeat they lay on their sides, facing each other. Pain bubbled up at the pathetic realization that those three words—words that should have been beautiful and meaningful—had the power to hurt her like nothing else could.

  Because they aren’t true.

  “I don’t believe you.” Ignoring the flash of misery in his eyes, she scrambled away and retrieved her clothes and sneakers from the base of the tree and quickly began dressing. Her head throbbed with anger. After everything that happened, how could he even think of saying that?

  There’d been a time—a brief, stupid time—when she’d yearned to hear him say those words. Now they were just that. Words. Sgt. Nick Houston was good at using words to get whatever he needed.

  Nick grabbed his shorts and shoved his legs into them. Next, he grabbed his sneakers and shoved his feet into them without even bothering to untie the laces.

  A sickening awareness pervaded her senses, followed by numbness. That numbness would keep her going after tomorrow. After he was gone from her life, and she was left to deal with the fact that she’d allowed yet another man to use her. Knowingly, this time.

  “Andi, I—” He took a step toward her, then stopped. Exhaling a ragged breath, he shoved a hand through his hair, looking as if he wanted to finish his thought but couldn’t. It didn’t matter. His expression said it all. Nick had just used her ass again and felt like crap about it.