by Beth Rhodes
Had he been avoiding going to her? That seemed ridiculous, but the truth was sort of staring him in the face right now as he debated even opening the door.
The old metal knob was cool under his hand when he turned it.
Air brushed his face as he opened the door, and it smelled of her, tightening his muscles…all of them, just a full-bodied, visceral reaction to being near her.
He closed the door behind him, stripped his shirt off, throwing it at the end of the bed, and toed off his boots. In an instant, he couldn’t get to her fast enough.
She stirred from her sleep when he got into bed and then melted into him, relaxed against him, without even waking. Deep breaths and the even rise and fall of her chest set his world right. God, he was so scared now. Her determination would be his undoing.
He wrapped an arm around her, his hand moving against the soft slope of her breast. He couldn’t help it. His need was winning over reason. And she was his, had been since before they’d even met face-to-face. But he was afraid he was losing her. She was younger by a long shot. Her passions were being awakened while he was ready to cut loose of his younger dreams.
Missy stretched, her rear end pressing against him. She turned. He massaged down her sides, digging his fingers gently into her thigh down to her knee and back up. She lifted her leg and resting it up at his waist.
He brushed the length of dark, soft hair at her neck and kissed her on her pulse point. His hands continuing to move and remember, tracing her shape. He cupped her breast, the press of her nipple against his palm, and stopped.
“What?” she whispered, rousing from the sleep.
He shook his head, even as he squeezed her through her shirt. He laid her back, flat on the bed and looked at her. The fullness of her. He pulled her shirt down, revealing the smooth skin, and kissed her breast. Had it been so long?
“You’re making me nervous,” she whispered and then pulled her shirt over her head, revealing herself to him and clearing him of all thought as she shoved him to his back and straddled him. “Maybe you forget how?”
Her grin was so familiar, he laughed. He didn’t like this sentimental side of himself. This fear. He didn’t like change…and he felt it coming. Something. Jesus, he couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but it was messing with his brain like no other assignment.
When she leaned down and pressed her lips to his, he set aside all the thoughts and took her mouth, sucking and nibbling and feeling every desire she poured into him. Her hands kneaded his chest, traced his ribcage, and gripped his waist before unsnapping his pants and tugging at the waist band.
He wasn’t the only one desperate to be together.
In an instant he had them both naked. Her legs tangled with his, soft, smooth—perfect. She lifted her knee and brushed that soft skin against his balls. He groaned, and she laughed. He flipped her back over, held her hips, and slid home.
“Holy—” he almost swore as every nerve-ending and muscle tightened. Her breath came out on an exhale. “You okay?” he couldn’t help but ask.
Instead of responding, she moved her hips, breaking loose his restraint so that he was taking her like the desperate man who’d barely survived his last assignment and wanted nothing more than to have her and to live.
She met him, thrust for thrust—thank God—until they both crashed, breathing heavily and sweat mingling. Missy brushed at the hair on his neck, scratching and soothing. His eyes drifted shut. He should get off of her. But he couldn’t move, and between breaths, he dropped off the cliff, as if he hadn’t slept in weeks.
***
As the nausea began to set in, Missy rolled the sleeping Jamie over and curled into his side. The nausea immediately abated. She worried her lip. This stomach bug…
Perhaps it wasn’t a stomach bug after all.
She began counting back the days from her last period.
Dang, she should have started her period.
Like…a week ago. She counted again.
No, it was impossible. She had an IUD.
There had to be something else. Stress? An allergy. Gluten intolerance?
Jamie’s hold on her tightened, and his hold on her sent a pang through her tender breast. Well, damn. Shit.
She wrapped an arm around Jamie’s waist, taking his hand in hers, and forced herself to quiet her brain and pray, not even sure what she was praying for…to not be pregnant? To be pregnant?
Her stomach twisted but not from morning sickness this time. A tear escaped. How could she tell him? Of, course she had to tell him. Except there was nothing to tell him. She hadn’t even done one of those tests. She should do a test.
She was finally figuring out what she wanted to do with her life, ready to put it on the line for something she was passionate about, and if she was pregnant, that would change everything. Except, John’s Emily was pregnant, and she still did her job. Elizabeth Byrnes, Tan’s wife, managed to keep up with her workload through a pregnancy last year and now also managed a toddler.
Her breath hitched. Her pulse pounded. She was an idiot; she was pregnant…with Jamie’s baby. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Holy crap.
Maybe she wasn’t pregnant. Right. She might not be.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” His groggy voice sent a vibration through her.
Missy rose up on her elbow, putting them face-to-face. “I don’t know.” She touched the bruising on his head and then touched her lip. “Lot of close calls lately. The trip to Colombia… you scared me.”
He reached out to touch her hair and move it behind her ear. “I think we should head home. Or maybe even visit my parents for a while, until this thing with Martinez dies down.”
She cut off the offended feeling that threatened and covered his hand with her own. He wanted to protect her, and she loved him for that. But it also strengthened her resolve. Pregnant or not, she had to do this. “We’re going to be okay. We can do this. We don’t need to rehash this.”
“Did we even hash it in the first place?”
“Yes. We did.”
He lifted a brow.
“Okay, maybe I’m asking you to do this for me. Please.”
Nothing was sure at this point, not with Martinez on her tail. With the possibility of being pregnant hampering her emotions, resentment pressed against her conscience.
She couldn’t shake it. It filled her with dread…and excitement. And Jamie—literally.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked, as if reading her thoughts.
“Hardly sick at all,” she quickly answered, then silently reprimanded herself. The guilt at possibly keeping secrets from Jamie did not sit well with her so she changed the subject. “Tell me about Doctor Joys.”
He flinched, as if still sore from the memory. “Ended up being a cluster, actually. Doc forgot to mention he was getting friendly with the resident nun, and when her dad showed up to make sure she came home, he had us all held hostage for the better part of two days.”
“Wow.” She didn’t know what to say. He’d never spoken so freely about an assignment. Never sounded so discouraged either. She frowned. “But, really? A nun and the doctor? Isn’t that,” she grimaced. “Wrong?”
He scowled, more of a reveal than she’d ever gotten before. Maybe he wasn’t happy. “The girl was in disguise as a nun.”
“Ha.” The only other time Missy had ever taken a semi-active role in a Hawk Elite assignment had been when Stacy and Nathan Hawkins visited Punta Gorda and were threatened by that mean man—Miguel.
He’d been after Stacy, revenge for the killing of his own wife years ago.
“Craig was shot. We all could have died.”
She hadn’t forgotten the fear of hearing those shots go off through her cell phone.
“All because some stupid girl ran away from home, for Christ’s sake, to hook up with Doctor Joys.” His strong use of the Lord’s name had her really looking at him.
“I’m glad you all made it out alive.”
He grunted.
“And thank you for telling me.” With another grunt from him, she couldn’t help but frown. “Why did you tell me?”
Jamie had been on dozens of assignments over their years together. He didn’t talk about them. He definitely never showed emotion—even annoyance—except for maybe relief at seeing her again. When he came home, he became protective, efficient, hardworking—lighthearted even, a man who loved the water and boating and fishing and who smiled often.
“Because it’s time.” The finality of his words hit her. “I’m thinking of resigning.”
Her mouth fell open. “What? Wait, from Hawk Elite. You’re quitting on Nathan?”
What would this mean for them? For her? Would he want to go back to Florida and be near his family? She wanted more, but it never occurred to her that could mean the end for them. If he left his job with Hawk Elite, and she jumped into this world with her grandmother…
Did that mean they were in sync, both wanting things to change? Or completely hitting a point where it would be time to go their separate ways?
“Oh, no,” she said, as her stomach turned over.
Missy untangled herself from his side and ran for the bathroom.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Shit,” Jamie whispered. They needed to get going. Only he was coming to a very serious conclusion—Missy was not well.
She opened the door slowly, peeking around it, as if to get back under the radar. Nope. She looked pale. She hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure she should have left the toilet yet.
“That’s it,” Jamie said, done with listening to her blow off this illness. All thought of getting on the road flew out the window. “I’m taking you to a doctor. Something is obviously wrong with you. You can’t travel across Mexico like this.”
Missy held up her wait-a-minute finger, did a one-eighty, and left the room.
Jamie ran a hand over the back of his neck and squeezed at the tight tendons.
They had little gear to pack up, but he began to put their packs back together. Padre Franco had offered Missy a few more clothing items and an extra set of shoes.
This time when she returned, her coloring was back.
“You okay?”
She stared at him without answering.
“What?”
“I don’t need a doctor,” she started, and then blinked and bit her lip.
Don’t cry.
“I’m pregnant.”
His world began a slow, grinding halt. “What?”
“I haven’t taken a test or anything.” She quickly added. “So, I guess I can’t be one hundred percent certain, but…it’s two and a half weeks late.”
He studied her, from head to breasts to toes. Then he approached her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He squeezed them, squeezed down her arms and then took her hands. He patted her hips, wondering if she should feel different. Did she feel different? No.
Actually, he paused then cupped her breasts.
“What are you doing?” She broke him from his study.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Holy shit, Missy.”
“Good or bad ‘holy shit?’”
He had to think for a second.
“Oh, damn.” She took a step back.
“No.” He pulled her towards him. “Don’t do that. I just—I can’t believe it.”
“Believe me. Neither can I.” Her voice sounded a bit too deadpan.
“Are you happy?” he asked.
Missy bit at her lip. “I don’t know what it’s going to mean for us, for me.”
A sharp ache of panic struck him. “It means we’re going to be a fucking family, Missy.”
She lifted a brow.
Heat rose on his neck. “Sorry.”
“It changes things, doesn’t it?”
He knelt in front of her, lifted the edge of her shirt, and kissed the flat of her belly. “I want to take you home.”
She sighed and dug her hands into his hair. “Not yet.”
She said ‘yet’ and that had to be enough.
“Hey, little baby,” he whispered against her soft skin. “Holy shit. This is so crazy.”
Missy chuckled. “I have to take the damn test.”
“I know, but when have you ever been this late?”
She shrugged. “Never.”
“Add the morning sickness.” He remembered the surprise of making love to her and cupped her breasts, let his thumb rub over her nipple.
She held her hand against his, pressing it to her heart. “One too many signs to ignore. But as crazy as it is, I need food and we need to go.” She wasn’t going to let this distract him from his promise to help her. And she was right.
If they were going to start a family, they needed to close the door on her past.
He got up and wrapped his arms around her. She relaxed into him. “We’re going to have a baby, Missy. Holy shit!”
“You keep saying that. You’re happy?”
“Hell, yeah.” He took her face in his hands and grinned. “I’m so relieved that you’re not sick.” His throat tightened, as he internally admitted he’d been scared.
She kissed him softly on the lips. “Then we’ll work this out?”
“Yeah. We’re going to work it out. And we’re going to keep you safe.” She gave him a look, but he ignored it. “It’s my job, babe.”
She sighed again.
A knock at the door broke them apart.
“You must go,” Padre Franco said without preface. “My people have warned me there are men on the road, headed this way.” He held out a set of keys. “Take it.”
But Jamie shook his head. “We can’t.”
“You must,” the priest jingled the keys. “The only other way out is the same way you went last time, down to the river. It’s too risky.”
He wanted to take those keys and get on the road. But he glanced at Missy, questioning her silently.
She shook her head. “It would leave Padre vulnerable. We can’t leave any sign that we’ve been here. We walked in. We’ll walk out. I’m sorry Padre, but everyone knows you own a vehicle.”
Pride filled him as she echoed his thoughts. “You going to be okay if we walk out of here?”
“Yes,” she answered firmly.
He nodded. “Okay. Is there still a boat down there, Padre?”
Padre nodded. “Si, si. Hurry. Take this.” He had a bag of food ready, dried goods mostly, and some fruit. Jamie opened his rucksack in the kitchen and slipped the items in where they would fit. He opened Missy’s bag and added a few water bottles before adding twice as many to his own.
She didn’t argue with him.
And he didn’t try to stop her from hoisting her own bag to her back. He had to trust that she knew her body. Even so, he couldn’t help but add, “If anything hurts. If you need a break, you say something.”
“I will.”
He stared at her, making sure there was no glint of guile in her pretty eyes. Satisfied, he turned to their friend. “Thank you again, Padre. We’ll leave the boat down river at the boat ramp.”
The priest embraced him. “Gracias, mis ninos. I will pray for a successful mission for all of us.” He hugged Missy, then shooed them out the door.
Funny how the backyard looked exactly the same: bit of fencing along one side and a path that cut through at the back. All was quiet when they crossed into the wooded area. The heat of the day pressed against him, and a dampness formed between his pack and back.
Someone had created a path over the years. Down to the river, it switched one way then the other, making their trek easier than the previous time. A small bridge went over the gap from where the ground turned soggy to the even smaller dock, which had rowboat tied to it.
Jamie threw his pack in at the stern and helped Missy down. Her footing was light and balanced. He jumped in and took the oar. They’d gone downstream last time and in order to stay ahead of Martinez’s men, they were going to have to do it again then t
rack back.
Behind him, Missy opened a granola bar and drank water. When he looked back, she shrugged. “No oar, or I’d row.”
He smiled. “You need to eat. Once we get to the other side a few miles down, we’re going to have to backtrack a good bit.”
She swallowed hard but nodded. Brave girl.
“We must be in the national forest here,” she whispered.
The dense, green, seemingly impenetrable foliage on the banks rose up, covering their movement. As they passed a small inlet with a downed tree, he pointed. Missy’s brows rose. “Is that where we met up with Tom?”
He nodded. “Just a bit further this time. There should be a road with a boat ramp.”
She moved behind him, shifting in her seat, and her hand splashed the water. “I’m just glad no one is shooting at us,” she said. Her hand came down on his back, resting there just above his belt.
“Me, too.” Jamie paddled over to the opposite shore, putting them out in the open, and quickened his rate for a split second as he landed the boat on the sandy bank. The jolt sent Missy forward, but she braced herself and was up and out of the boat before he had a chance to help.
She took her pack and set it on her back.
He did the same with his own. “Here we go.”
She fake-frowned. “No Tom. How disappointing. I kept thinking perhaps he’d have eyes and ears everywhere, like the legends say.”
Jamie laughed. “Right?” He took his compass out and started off. They had some ground to cover if they were going to get to Tom’s on the other side of that mountain before tomorrow.
Missy kept up, and within a few strides, had taken his hand. “We can just pretend we’re on vacation—for a while, right?”
He squeezed her hand. “We could be on our way to a vacation…say the place, and we’re there.”
“Mmm, so tempting.”
“It should be.” The ire rose in his words, and he tamped it down. He was going to help her find those photos…and then they would go home. He blew out a breath. Her uncle, the police, could do whatever they wanted with the photos. He had no intention of sticking around long enough to find out if Martinez had been knocked off his pedestal.