Savor the Danger

by Lori Foster

  “And occasionally four times,” Alani said. She laughed—until she realized that both of the women were staring at her. “What?”

  “That was a joke, right?” Priss lifted her brows. “Four times?”

  “Uh…no.” Was that so unusual? Alani felt her face getting hot. Jackson had claimed to be a sex machine. Had he been serious? “No joke.”

  “That’s happened?” Molly gaped at her. “Seriously?”

  “More than once or twice?” Priss clarified.

  Since it had happened quite a bit with Jackson—and in fact, felt more like the norm when circumstances allowed—she cleared her throat. “Often.”

  Priss dropped back with widened eyes. “That stud.”

  “Wait.” Molly cocked a brow with suspicion. “Is this when he was drugged?”

  “The first time, yes.” Seeing them as great confidantes, Alani shook off her shyness and leaned in. “But since then, too, he’s been…insatiable.”

  Priss and Molly sat silent for a moment, then burst out laughing. “That dawg,” one said, and “Such a hedonist,” said the other.

  Alani found herself grinning, too. “It’s pretty wonderful, I have to say.”

  Molly hugged her. “Glad to hear it.”

  “All this sex talk has me wanting to see Trace.” Priss stood. “Let’s go find the guys.”

  “Yeah,” Molly said. “I need to let Dare know he’s been a slacker.”

  They fell into fits of laughter again. Alani shook her head at them, but she kept grinning, too.

  Hopeful that she and Jackson could finish their conversation, she decided to wait behind. “You go on. I’ll be there shortly.”

  Lingering in the bedroom, she waited for Jackson for what felt like forever. When he finally came to her, it was just to tell her that everyone had convened in the family room for casual conversation and food.

  He carried the cat, giving it more attention than he did her.

  Deflated, but not quite outspoken enough to keep him alone with her in the room when he showed no real interest and everyone else waited for them, Alani went along to join the others.

  Dare sat in a big chair with Molly in his lap. He gave Alani a long look when she walked in, until Molly elbowed him.

  Her brother and Priss stood by the fireplace. Priss cupped his face and whispered something in his ear. He drew back, shook his head.

  She gave a slow smile and murmured something again.

  He turned a dark glower on Jackson, but when Priss started snickering, he gave up and squeezed her.

  While Alani fought a blush, Jackson looked at each varying expression. Finally he said, “What?”

  “Show-off,” Dare said. “But now I feel challenged.”

  Molly pretended to swoon, making Dare laugh again.

  Still confused, Jackson looked at Trace, but he said, “Forget it. If you want to know, talk to my sister.”

  So he transferred his baffled gaze to Alani.

  She cleared her throat and shrugged.

  “We’ll discuss this later,” he told her in a stern tone.

  And everyone cracked up again, even her brother.

  Despite her embarrassment, a sense of contentment settled over Alani. Dare and Trace had each found someone very special to them.

  Jackson deserved someone special, too. She wanted to be that person.

  If her brother and Dare could make it work despite the dangers of their jobs, then surely she could, too.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  VERY ATTUNED to his present mood, Alani continued to watch Jackson. When his expression remained impassive and somehow distant, she gave up. As much as she loved him, she wouldn’t chase after him. But at the first opportunity, she’d demand he explain his bad humor.

  After she took a seat—alone—in the remaining chair, Jackson sat at one end of the couch.

  If anyone noted the significance of that, they kept it to themselves.

  With Molly curled against his chest, Dare said, “Chris can keep the stray with him until after the vet has given him a clean bill of health.”

  Both of Dare’s dogs, Sargie and Tai, sat at attention near Jackson’s feet, very alert to a new pet in the house. But Liger, Priss’s enormous cat, who always came with her when she visited, made a beeline for Trace. Though Liger weighed a hefty twenty-three pounds, he made an agile leap up into Trace’s arms.

  Trace held the cat on one side and Priss on the other. “Once the vet clears him, we’ll introduce him to the other animals.”

  “I hate to leave him.” Jackson scratched under the cat’s chin. “He doesn’t have his front claws, but if he did, they’d be in my hide right now.”

  He was so gentle with the cat that Alani wondered how he’d be with a baby. Her heart swelled. Jackson had shied away from talk of family or commitment, but if it turned out she was pregnant, what would he think? How would he feel?

  “He’ll adjust fine. My girls won’t hurt him.” As Dare spoke, he stroked his fingertips up and down Molly’s bare arm. “They love everyone and everything.”

  “Do you know what you’re going to name him?” Priss asked.

  Jackson looked to Alani. “What do you think?”

  That he’d include her in the decision while being so contrary only confused her more. “I don’t know.” She studied the cat. Thanks to the placement of fur on his wide face, he wore a perpetual frown. “He’s awfully grim about everything.”

  A fleeting smile played over Jackson’s mouth. “And he sort of looks like a gremlin, doesn’t he?” He leaned around to see the cat’s enormous eyes. “Grim for short. I like it. What do you think?”

  Everyone admired the name.

  While Jackson continued to talk to the cat, Chris carried in a tray of coffee, colas and sandwiches. He set it on the coffee table and dropped down next to Jackson. He scratched the cat’s ear. “Want me to take him while you eat?”

  Jackson hesitated—earning more points with Alani’s heart. In such a short time he’d already bonded with the cat and, as appeared to be customary for him, he already felt protective.

  More than a little famished, she stood up to get some food, hoping that would prompt Jackson to do the same. He’d been running all day without letting up. “You know Chris is good with animals.”

  Molly said, “Chris is good with everything.”

  Dare snorted, but he didn’t disagree. He and Chris had been the best of friends forever, and now Chris ran his house for him. He did everything from organizing the landscapers and repairmen, to the grocery shopping and laundry, to computer work and errands. Dare trusted him completely, and luckily, Chris and Molly got along great.

  “I suppose.” Reluctantly, Jackson transferred Grim into Chris’s arms. Unconcerned with cat hairs or a possible scratch, Chris drew the cat in close and started stroking him.

  Instead of eating, Jackson paced to the patio doors to look out at the lake.

  Chris lounged back with Grim and within seconds had him purring loudly. “I already called the vet, by the way. She’ll be here soon to look him over. After a checkup, she can recommend what shots he might need. For tonight, I made him up a bed and litter box in my laundry room. Tomorrow, after I make sure the animals all get along, I can run into town to get a collar and whatever else he needs.”

  “You see,” Molly said. “Isn’t he amazing?”

  “Yeah.” His back to the room, Jackson said, “I need a Chris.”

  Because Chris was gay, Dare choked and Trace laughed.

  Chris, one dark brow lifted, said, “Yeah…not.”

  “I didn’t mean for that.” Secure in his masculinity, Jackson didn’t take offense at the ribbing as he turned to survey the room. “I mean now that I have a house, I need someone I can trust to keep it together, too.”

  Alani made a point of not looking at him, but her heart thumped and her pulse raced.

  She tried to be blasé, but she felt Jackson’s rapt attention on her.

  “When I have to be aw
ay for a week or more, it’d be nice to know someone was looking after things.”

  Was that a hint? A suggestion? Or just an observation based on the way Dare and Trace ran their own households?

  “Tough to have plants—or pets—without someone around on a daily basis,” Molly agreed.

  “I’m one of a kind,” Chris told them. “They broke the mold after me.”

  Dare snorted. “Thank God.”

  Trace gave Jackson a telling look. “Priss keeps our place running smooth, and she keeps my life pretty damned organized, too.”

  “He agreed to my assistance under duress,” Priss told them.

  “Not really.” Trace kissed her temple. “I don’t want you involved in anything dangerous—”

  “Hear, hear,” Dare said, lifting his cola in a toast and earning a hug from Molly.

  “—but you’re great on the computer at tracking down records. And you’ve got a diabolical mind when it comes to deciphering the motives and probabilities of maniacs.”

  “Meaning I make a good sounding board.” Priss grinned.

  Shell-shocked over that disclosure, Jackson said, “You tell her things about…” He caught Priss’s challenging stare and rethought his words. “You know, business?”

  “Sometimes, sure.” Trace shrugged. “I trust her, and she’s good at helping me fit the puzzle pieces together.”

  “But you know there’s still a lot you don’t tell me.”

  “I’ll take the fifth on that.” Trace kissed her before she could protest.

  “I have to be careful what I say,” Dare mentioned.

  Molly grinned. “He worries that I’ll borrow trade secrets for one of my suspense books.” She smacked his shoulder. “But of course I wouldn’t.”

  They all laughed.

  Growing antsy under Jackson’s unrelenting stare, Alani looked up. She felt the touch of his gaze clear down to her soul. She tried a smile, but he was so contained, he didn’t return the gesture.

  Determined to be proactive, she picked up a sandwich and a cola and joined him at the other end of the room. Even while suffering great misgivings, she held on to his gaze and her smile.

  “You should eat.” She offered him the food.

  He took everything from her and set it on the table behind him. Lifting a long lock of her hair, he brought it up to his face, his eyes closed, expression pained. “You have the most amazing hair. So damn soft.”

  “Jackson?”

  He drew her into his arms, his nose at her temple, his hand sliding into her hair, around her skull. “It’s almost as pretty as your eyes.”

  He seemed somewhat…desolate.

  “What is it?” she whispered. The others were talking, pretending to pay them no attention.

  She and Jackson both knew better; nothing got past Trace and Dare.

  He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, then kissed the bridge of her nose, her cheekbone. “Don’t make me out to be something I’m not, okay?”

  “You’re worrying me, Jackson.”

  “Mmm.” He turned her so that her back rested against the patio door, and he shielded her from the gazes of others with his body. “That’s something I never want to do.”

  She drew a fortifying breath. “Caring and worrying go hand in hand. Even if you didn’t have such a dangerous job, there would be times of concern.” She rested a hand over his strong heartbeat. “I can’t help that. I’m female.”

  “Very female,” he murmured.

  Now that sounded more like Jackson. “So you’re finally noticing that again?”

  “Did I ever stop noticing?” Not giving her an opportunity to reply, he said, “There’s a lot to decide, a lot to be done.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that, either. “Like what?”

  He looked down at her mouth, then up into her eyes—and his cell phone rang. For one heartbeat of time, he froze. Everyone turned to them.

  Alani saw the change in his demeanor and posture as he went hard and resolute, dark and dangerous in a nanosecond.

  He stepped away from her while digging the phone from his jeans pocket.

  He looked at the caller ID, and a calculated smile of satisfaction sent chills up her spine. “It’s Arizona.”

  Both Dare and Trace came to attention. Their wives, too.

  Alani reached out to touch Jackson, but as he opened the phone to answer, he stepped out of her reach—and then, to her disbelief, he turned his back on her.

  INSTINCTIVELY NEEDING Alani distanced from any possible threat, Jackson separated himself from her before answering the phone. She already had some messed up, skewed perception of him, thinking him all noble and honorable.

  He wasn’t a damn saint. Far from it, and he didn’t want his worry for Arizona to add to her confusion.

  Her quick acceptance of things had left him reeling. It wasn’t what he’d expected. Jealousy, sure. A snit, maybe. He’d deliberately kept things from her—still kept things from her—but she accepted it with ease.

  She was so goddamned understanding that it made his brain spin.

  Would she as easily accept that Arizona was a part of his life now? He couldn’t abandon her.

  But he wouldn’t give up Alani, either.

  Done speculating, Jackson put the phone to his ear and, following protocol, said nothing. He just waited.

  “It’s Arizona.”

  Relief stiffened his spine even more. He went right to the point: “You’re okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  He wasn’t buying that, not until he saw her himself. “Where are you?”

  “Weeeellll… That’s the thing. I’m sort of…on the road.”

  He paced away from the door, wishing he had real privacy—or more to the point, that the women weren’t in the room. But damn Dare and Trace, neither of them made a move to make that happen, and he felt the intrusion of the wives, of Alani, as a keen imposition. “I called.”

  “You did?” She sounded surprised, but with a lack of apology, said, “Couldn’t answer.”

  “Why not?” Then it occurred to him that if she wasn’t returning his earlier calls, she had to have another reason. “What’s wrong?”

  “The thing is, I don’t want you freaking out.”

  Insulted, he paced to the window to stare down at the lake. “I do not freak out.”

  “Yeah, right. Well then, I don’t want you going off on a killing rampage. How’s that?”

  Determined to get to the truth, he asked softly, “Why would I want to do that?” Her sarcastic attitude always hid fear. As elusive as she remained, he knew that much about her. “Tell me what’s going on, Arizona. Now.”

  She gave a long, dramatic sigh. “Okay, fine, don’t get your boxers in a bunch.”

  “Arizona.”

  “I lost the cell. That is, I lost the one you were probably calling on. I still have this one.”

  Just as he, Dare and Trace each carried two cells, he’d given Arizona two, as well—one for true emergencies, and one for just talking. It was her “around town” phone—and to keep their relationship secret, she wasn’t supposed to use it to call him. “How?”

  “Some guy I met in a bar—”

  “Where are you?” She had used the phone to call him, so something had to be seriously wrong. Ready to go after her, he took a few steps, but he didn’t know where to go and it left him incensed. “I’m fine, Jackson. Honest. Geez, take a breath already, will you?”

  He did, damn her. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m awesome, cross my heart. I’m not calling for backup. Now if you’ll let me finish—”

  “You said you were in a bar?” He didn’t know any reputable bars that’d willingly serve an underage girl. But he knew plenty that would let in a girl who looked like Arizona.

  She laughed. “Yeah, you’ve heard of them. Local drinking hole? Place for shitheads to get plastered and bimbos to get laid.”

  “God help me,” he muttered mostly to himse
lf, and then, “What bar? When? Where exactly are you now?”

  “Doesn’t matter what bar, because I’m nowhere near there now. Happened last night and I’ve been on the road ever since. As for where I am now, I’m just crossing over from Ohio into Kentucky.”

  “Highway?”

  “Yep.”

  So for now, she should be clear. Enough traffic remained on the main roads that it’d be tough for anyone to get to her without being exposed.

  “What about the guy at the bar?” He studied the sky. It remained light ’til late, so he had plenty of time yet to get to her. He wanted to be moving, doing, but he needed facts first.

  And getting facts from Arizona was enough to make him grind his teeth.

  “Well, don’t blow a gasket, but I sort of tussled with this big dude who was there to… See, at first I mistook what he wanted. But, I dunno, maybe he was just there to scope out the scumbags, same as me.”

  His hair nearly stood on end. Scope out scumbags? Tussle. His back to the room and voice low, he said, “Been playing vigilante again?”

  “Call it whatever you like. Thing is, I don’t know why he was rousing the rabble, but I figured him to be different, ya know? Well, not that different.”

  Fist on his hip, phone to his ear, Jackson dropped his head forward and groaned. “What happened?”

  “He lusted, I laid him low, end of story.”

  Of course he’d lusted. Arizona had that effect on most guys, which was probably why she had expected him to be the same. “If it was the end, why are you calling?”

  “That’s the thing…he followed me. And the sticky-fingered SOB must’ve taken my wallet, too, when we…well…”

  Squeezing his eyes shut, Jackson supplied her word back to her. “Tussled?”

  “Yeah. That’s probably when I lost the phone, too.” A grin sounded in her tone. “But I can handle him, so that’s not why I called.” She paused, his anticipation built, and then she said, “It’s the silver BMW.”

  Going rigid, Jackson snarled, “Silver BMW?”

  That got Dare and Trace coming to attention, too.

  “Yeah—the same one that tried to run you off the road. Different plates now, though.”

  “The same…” How the hell did she know about that?