LOVE in a Small Town (Ladies of Legend Boxed Set)

by Janet Eaves

  Something felt wrong. Something besides the kidnapping. She’d had the same feelings of unease since the child disappeared. These thoughts weren’t related to the child, or the horrible animal that took him. It was something else. But she no longer trusted her instincts, had in fact decided she no longer had any.

  She shook those thoughts off and studied Catcher. The late morning sun was overhead warming her, radiating off his California surfer looks. Just looking at him made her want. Need. Desire.

  It wasn’t fair. Her entire life was geared to helping others, a job, no, a destiny she’d never questioned. Yet here she was. On a mission to do what she’d once done better than any other, and she’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, but still, she would want this beautiful man to be those other places too, doing those other things with and to her.

  She exhaled loudly. His distant gaze sharpened onto her face. He took a slight step forward, seemed to check himself, then pivoted and reentered the cabin. Polly stared at the open French doors for a moment, wondering if for just a split second his eyes flashed reciprocal desire.

  She bit her lip, somehow comforted by the slight tug and barely perceptible pain. It reminded her of what the madman cost her, what he could even now be costing an innocent child. She turned back to look down the mountain’s side, over the lake, and over the town that had raised her to be a model citizen until that fateful day.

  Legend, Tennessee was her home. It was the haven she’d sent more than one desperate person to, to start a new life. For the most part, it was a town of virtue. Filled with decent, God-fearing people. It was America at its finest. And no one was going to destroy it. Not while there was a breath left in her body.

  Polly pivoted and marched—as much as her slight limp would let her—into the cabin. She searched the kitchen/living space for Catcher. A flicker of fear that he’d left fled immediately when she heard footsteps overhead. She climbed the stairs slowly, her heartbeats increasing with each step. The sight of him, wearing only his designer jockey shorts, sent that heart into overdrive.

  He turned, surprise on his face and khaki shorts in hand, and she knew what she had to do—talk or no talk—whether it was right or wrong. “We need to get this out of the way.” She stepped up to him, took his face in her hands, and pulled his lips to her own.

  Immediately his arms were around her, holding her close, yet gentle. His mouth was less polite, attacking hers, nibbling, tugging, seeking entrance, then ravaging. Her mind exploded, thought impossible, need an all-encompassing force. She’d meant only to exercise the demon of curiosity, but found that demon was no match for the one that had taken over.

  Sparks lit behind her eyes. Moans built in her throat. Desire, raging, rioting, overtook reason.

  Catcher broke the kiss, his ocean blue eyes now dilated black, his firm muscular chest frantically moving in an out, grasping gasps of air. He lowered his head and took her lips this time, consuming her, moving her towards the hand-carved bed, cushioning her fall with his own body as they landed on the handmade patchwork quilt.

  Need shook her violently, a lustful inferno. Deep rolling sounds vibrated within her throat as she desperately scratched at his back then grasped his soft blond curls to pull him even closer. A beep sounded but held no meaning while lips locked lips and tongues swirled. Pain collided with erotic sensation as her body came alive in a basic, primitive, dance. Nothing, not one thing in her life had prepared her for this perfect moment.

  Clothing was tugged off, disposed of. Frantic grasping, tasting, touching, disheveled quilt and sheets. Laughter built in her throat when he took her rock hard nipple into his mouth, then she was moaning, writhing, needing him to move lower.

  As if he’d read her thoughts, he licked his way down the finely defined indention of her hard won abs to her tummy, stopping there to swirl his tongue in her navel. Her legs buckled as she giggled, but he held her down as he slid further toward his goal.

  Anticipation was a delicious agony, one he indulged in as he took his time, kissing, sucking, and nibbling at her inner thigh before parting her feminine lips. The first touch took her breath as her body reacted by jerking off the bed. He chuckled as his fingers and mouth took her. Teeth and tongue were working a magic that blurred thought and everything became one incredible sensation she could do nothing but ride.

  She grasped the loose sheet below her as the pressure built, then released it and grasped his head, pulling him up until he was above her. He smiled at her, took her lips, his tongue delved between her lips as he slid into her. Polly clawed at his back, moving her body in rhythm to his, taking control of the kiss as she mimicked the motion of their bodies with her tongue.

  The beeping sound came again and again until Catcher swore and pulled away, rising from the bed.

  A splashing chill replaced the warmth that was his body, yet her body still hummed with desire. He looked at the cell phone, paused as it continued to beep, then raised his gaze to hers. Uncertainty flickered in his once passionate, now passionless eyes. Now the chill solidified into ice cold dread. That phone was with them for only one reason. She licked her lips and took the phone from his hands. Her own shook as she pushed the ‘talk’ button, waited for Catcher to speed-dial the awaiting agents in the cabin down the mountain, and placed the phone at her ear. “Chapman here.”

  Silence.

  Breathing.

  A chuckle.

  Silence.

  Polly lowered the phone and examined its face. The caller had disconnected the call. Exhaling a shaky breath, she lifting her gaze to Catchers. “It was him.”

  Catcher nodded, looking as upset as she felt. He snagged his shorts, turned his back, and pulled them on. “Did he say anything?”

  It was inappropriate to feel as disappointed as she did that what they had shared was over, but she was. “Not really. I heard him breath heavily, then laugh. He’s toying with me.”

  “Hmmmm,” Catcher stated, taking the phone from her and placing it in his back pocket. He studied Polly. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

  She nodded, then shook her head. “I’m fine. And no, you didn’t hurt me.” She wanted to pull him back to her, but the call had broken the mood and killed the spontaneity of the moment. And Catchers was distancing himself both physically and she could tell emotionally. “Are you okay?”

  “I guess we need to focus on the job,” Catcher stated, before leaving her alone in the loft.

  Polly nodded, but his back was to her and he didn’t look back to see. She breathed deeply as she rose to dress. Yes, they needed to focus on the mission. A child’s life was on the line. Somehow, she’d allowed herself to forget that for those few wonderful minutes. Maybe she’d allowed herself to forget it on purpose. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to face the reality that another child was being brutalized in the most horrific ways by that monster.

  She wanted to run. And hide. And scream until there wasn’t a sound left in her body. She wanted to hit and kick and slice that son of a bitch open while looking into his eyes as the life drained out of him, just like he had done with his own children. But she couldn’t do any of those things. She couldn’t run and The Agency wasn’t going to let her hide. And screaming and crying wouldn’t save that little boy.

  And then there was a very hard truth.

  She was deeply attracted to Catcher, and he seemed as married to The Agency as she’d once been. Even if she wanted to, even if he wanted to, there was no way their employer would allow them to have a life together. If she was allowed to return to her home in New York and continue working to help relocate and hide witnesses for the Federal government, Catcher would still be required to lead a very secret life as master healer. The job would take him away for months at a time and she would never know where he was or who it was he was helping.

  More seriously, if those who called the shots forced her to continue as a government assassin, she would have to go underground. Erase her own existence. There was no wa
y she could go back to that life. She knew that for certain now. The consequences, although unthinkable, had to be faced. If she ran, she’d be considered a rogue agent. A threat to national security. And she would be hunted. For the rest of her life.

  It was a real possibility she had to contemplate for herself and something she would never consider doing to Catcher. He was still young enough and new enough in the business to believe what he did made a difference. He was sweet and silly and so damn hot it made her want to cry. Mostly, he was still just a Boy Scout at heart. And her reality and his could never meld under the burden of their circumstances.

  Funny thing was, the differences in their ages and the fact that she resembled a scarecrow didn’t even come into play. And because of that alone, if he was willing, and his reactions to her earlier indicated that to be a strong possibility, then she would ask only one thing of him. That he indulge her need of him for whatever time they had left.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The waiting was killer. It always had been and she knew it always would be. Catcher was gone and it was embarrassing to admit that her feelings were hurt. He’d dressed quickly following the call and had made himself scarce. Not only had he left her to deal with the impact of the call, he done a typical guy thing and disconnected on the emotional impact of what had happened between them. It was disappointing. She was coming to depend on him not being typical.

  The sound of the door opening and his footsteps, first on the hardwood floor, then up the stairs, caused her heart to knock. She waited as he approached, more relieved to see him than she would ever admit. “I’m glad you’re back. We need to make a plan.”

  “I know.” He glanced at the bed then back to her. “But I think we have to talk about what happened here.”

  Polly swallowed. She was completely out of her element. “About the kiss?”

  Catcher’s mouth fell into a quick smile. “If that’s what you want to call it. I was thinking it was more like a full-fledged preamble to some seriously hot sex.”

  Smiling herself, Polly dropped onto the bed. “Yeah? I’d call it exceptionally hot sex—and a preamble to an incredible wild orgasm.”

  Catcher nodded, looking uncomfortable. “Yeah, well, I think it was a mistake.” He took a deep breath and sat beside her. Taking her hands into his own, he studied them. “Things are difficult.”

  “Yes, they are. On many levels. But we are here. Now. Alone. The question is, do you have any feelings for me?”

  Catcher looked into her eyes. “I do. A lot. But the timing…”

  Polly kissed him, effectively shutting off his excuses. “I know there are so many reasons not to do this, but I want you. I don’t know what’s going to happen, tomorrow, or the next day, or even the day after that.

  “I don’t know if we can catch this guy, or save that child, or if I even I want the job I may or may not still have. There are so many things I don’t know. But there is one thing that I do know. I want this… whatever this is. I want to hold you and be held, I want to kiss you and be kissed. I want you to wrap yourself around me and make me forget that we are here for any other reason but to bring each other pleasure.”

  “Wow, you don’t ask for much do you?”

  Polly grinned. “No. All I’m asking, Cat, if that for tonight, and maybe even tomorrow if we are given that much time, that the world doesn’t exist. If you want me.”

  He studied her. “Can you do that? Can you let everything else go?”

  Nearly choked by the tightness in her throat, Polly nodded. “Some training never leaves you.”

  “I think you are one remarkable woman. I’ve thought so for a long time. Any man would be crazy not to want you.”

  Breathless, she blushed. “I think you are pretty remarkable, too.”

  Indecision played across his face before Catcher pulled her into his arms and took her mouth. For several minutes, he seemed content to explore the texture of her lips before breaching the barrier and delving deeper. He leaned back, and placed his nose against hers. “I know it’s too soon to say this. I don’t even know if you want to hear it. But I’m crazy about you. I think I’m in… love with you.” His face flushed, his gaze fell from hers. “But I have no right to be,” he whispered.

  Polly pulled away, stunned, terrified, thrilled. She rose, and walked to the foot of the bed where her suitcase rested. She opened it, pulled out the nightie Lilly had packed for her, then couldn’t contain the chuckle. Lilly, bless her naughty little heart had gifted her with a shear pink, feather laced gown and matching thong panties. She held them up for Catcher to see. “I need a minute. I think I’ll shower to freshen up a bit, if you don’t mind.” And to get myself together!

  Indecision blanketed his gaze, scaring her for a moment, then he smiled with gentle resignation. “No, I don’t mind. Do you need help?”

  Polly laughed, refusing to let his hesitation get to her. She understood it. Wrong time, bad timing all around, but she was determined to push everything else away for the moment and hoped he could too.

  “Maybe getting down the stairs since they’re so steep, but after that I think I can handle it.”

  Shaking his head, Catcher allowed his boyish grin to appear. “Too bad. I make a great back scrubber.”

  “Maybe later. Just get me downstairs for now, please.”

  The trip down the stairs was much easier than she’d expected it to be since Catcher carried her in his arms. He placed her on her feet, and then walked with her the last few steps through the kitchen to the door of the bathroom. She smiled up at him, leaned forward for a light sweet kiss, then stepped into the room and shut the door in his face.

  With a sigh, she leaned her back to the door and just smiled. Who would have ever thought someone as beautiful as Catcher would desire the mess that she’d become. She walked over to the small medicine cabinet mirror over the small vanity sink and studied her face.

  There were no wrinkles around her eyes or mouth yet. That, at least she’d been spared. But the damage was there. True, it didn’t look quite a bad as it had when the stitches were in. And she knew that over the next year the scars would diminish some as the injuries continued to heal. But for him to want her, as she looked right now, was not only amazing, it made him incredibly sexy in her eyes… Not that he wasn’t already a hunk of major proportions!

  “You need help in there?”

  Polly smiled at herself in the mirror. It was time to forget what she didn’t have to offer a younger, prettier man, and remember what she did. “No. I was just taking my time.”

  “Okay. I’m gonna make some calls. Yell if you need me.”

  “Okay.”

  Polly shed her clothes, relieved that her body wasn’t hurting nearly as much as it had even a week before, and was, in fact, starting to strengthen. Catcher was right. She had gotten unnecessarily stiff. Between her workouts and the walks and the horror of the day before, painful as that had been, her body was coming around. She felt the muscles in her legs hardening, where she’d allowed them to go soft. She had definition returning to her arms, even though she’d really barely begun to work them. Catcher was obviously right again when he’d told her that her muscles would remember their normal conditioning quickly if she’d just give them a little push.

  Catcher had been right about a lot of things. She had allowed herself to stop living. Stop hoping. Stop dreaming. What he didn’t know, what she was only now learning herself, was that these things happened long before Karl Wall destroyed his family.

  It was time. Time to let go. To start over. To live. To allow herself a chance at love. Even if only for a day or two. After that was up to the Agency.

  Polly turned on the water to give it time to warm, then turned to the door. She needed to let Catcher know, now, that she wanted more than today and tonight. More than tomorrow. If he wanted those things, too. If he was willing to risk going with her if she had to run.

  It was a risky thing to contemplate, much less attempt. But she had nev
er been a coward. Not once in her life. And she wasn’t going to be one now when the rewards could be more than she’d ever hoped to find.

  She quietly opened the door and crossed the kitchen where Catcher’s voice resonated from the balcony. Though she couldn’t make out the words, she could tell he was yelling, and clearly very angry. Naked, but knowing no one but Catcher would see her, she padded to the French doors, and found him looking out over the lake towards Legend.

  “I told you! I am not doing this anymore!”

  Polly began to approach him, but stopped cold at his words.

  “Dammit! I don’t care if it was my idea. I’m not doing it. She’s fine. Her mind is sharp, she’s mentally stable, and there is no reason to send her on this wild goose chase anymore.”

  Polly’s heart knocked against her chest, but she forced herself to remain still, when everything inside of her screamed, run!

  “Damn, Paul, get Denvers on the phone. I need to talk to him right now!”

  “Fuck!” Catcher threw his cell phone against the rock balcony where it shattered into several pieces. He pivoted, his face furious, then looked up and saw her. His face with its usually tanned glow turned ashen as guilt filled his eyes. “Fuck,” he repeated, only this time it wasn’t shouted in anger.

  Polly crossed her arms over her chest and backed to the doors. She didn’t know the details, but she wasn’t stupid. Catcher had deceived her. He, along with the agencies help had made a fool out of her. Them, she had no choice but to forgive. Lying was what they did.

  She stopped at the door and let her arms relax. There was no modestly left in her. After licking dried lips, she shook her head, saddened beyond anything she’d ever experienced. “Why? Please, just tell me why?”

  Catcher started to approach until she held up a hand to stop him. “I’m sorry, Polly.”

  “Not good enough. I want to know what you did. I want to know how long you’ve been lying to me.”