by Nicole Helm
She frowned at that, a line forming between her brows that once upon a time he’d loved tracing with his thumb. Where had that memory come from?
“He was hungry. He fainted. He was out of it. Confused maybe. And totally polite and harmless.”
“Damn it, Jen. I told you to call me. I could have—”
“He didn’t do anything. I know you’re paranoid, but—”
“I am not paranoid. You think a man who gets a letter with no postage delivered to where he lives and works is paranoid?”
She tilted her head, studying him, and he realized with a start he’d said too much.
He never said too much.
“What was in the letter?” she asked, her voice calm and her eyes on him.
It was hell, this. Still wanting her. Missing that old tiny slice of his life where she’d been his. He didn’t want this, but he couldn’t seem to get rid of it. It ate at him, had him dreaming about doing things he couldn’t possibly allow himself to do. Every once in a while he’d think...what would just one touch do?
But he knew the answer to that.
She audibly swallowed and looked away, a faint blush staining her cheeks. She felt it, too, and yet...
“It doesn’t matter,” he grumbled, trying to find his usual center of calm. His normal, everyday clear-eyed view of the world and of this problem he had. “What did he look like? Better yet—I want to see your security tape.”
Her eyes flashed anger and frustration. “You are not looking at my security tape.”
“Why not?”
“It’s an invasion of my customers’ privacy.”
He snorted. “I don’t care that Mary Lynn Jones bought a pack of Marlboros even though her husband thinks she quit or that little Adam Teller was buying condoms because he talked his way into Lizzie Granger’s pants.”
Jen’s mouth twitched, but then she firmed it into a scowl. “How do you know all that?”
“I pay attention, babe.”
Her scowl deepened and she folded her arms across her chest. “Blond hair, blue eyes. About the same height as Cam. I’m not sure what that’d be in feet and inches, but I imagine you would. Skinny, but strong, like a marathon runner. He wore hiking clothes and boots, all in tan, and a big, fancy camera around his neck. Topped it off with a Stetson. Said he was taking pictures of ghost towns and happened upon Bent.”
It was more to go on than he thought he’d get out of her, but still not enough to ring any bells. “Tattoos? Scars? Something off about him?”
She shook her head. “Not that I could see.”
“I want the tape, Jen. If someone is...” He didn’t want to tell her. Didn’t trust her to keep it a secret and let him handle it, but he needed to see the man himself. Needed to identify him so he could neutralize this threat. “I’m getting letters. They’re not threatening exactly, but they’re not...not. I know you don’t care about me, but your family is all tangled up with mine now.” He gestured at the whole irritating lot of them. “Don’t you want to protect what’s yours?”
“Of course I do.”
That sharp chin of hers came up, defiant and angry. Her temper used to amuse him. Now it just made that ache center in his heart.
But that wasn’t the problem at hand. “Then let me see the tape. If I recognize him, I’ll know what to do. If I don’t, then maybe you’re right and it’s harmless coincidence.” He didn’t believe that, but he’d let her think he did.
She was quiet and stiff for humming seconds, then finally she sighed. “Oh, fine. I suppose you want to go now?”
He only raised an eyebrow.
She rolled her eyes. “Let me get my purse and say my goodbyes.” She stalked back inside, grumbling about irritating, stubborn males the whole way up.
All Ty could do was pray he’d recognize whoever was on that tape and everything would be over.
* * *
JEN STEPPED OUT of her tiny little sedan, dressed all in pink, her dark hair in pretty waves around her shoulders.
Sweet. Just like Ty had said. She’d been wary of him last night when he’d first walked into the store. He’d seen it in her eyes, but the feigned hunger and stumble had softened her. She’d given him food and water. Good-hearted, she was indeed.
He smiled, watching as Jen stood there in front of her store. When a motorcycle roared into view, his smile died.
Even before the man took off his helmet, he knew who it was. He watched Jen. She didn’t seem happy to see Ty, but nor did she seem surprised or unhappy.
He scowled, watching as Ty strode over to Jen. They exchanged a few words and then Jen unlocked the store and stepped inside, Ty right behind her.
She didn’t flip the sign from Closed to Open.
He narrowed his eyes. The rage that slammed into him was sudden and violent, but he’d learned a thing or two about how to handle it. Hone it.
Ty would get his. He would.
So, patience would be the name of the game. And another letter.
This time in blood.
Chapter Three
Jen set her purse down on her desk in the back room of the store and tried not to sigh. Why was she getting involved in this?
Don’t you want to protect what’s yours?
It grated all over again. That he could even ask her that. She would have protected him, sacrificed for him, and he’d left her alone and confused and so brokenhearted she’d...
She booted up her computer, stabbing at the buttons in irritation. She’d eradicate the past if she could, but since she couldn’t she had to find a better way of managing her reaction to it in Ty’s presence.
Looming over her like some hulking specter. She flicked a glance over her shoulder and up. “Do you mind?”
His eyes were hard and his mouth was harder. He was taking this so seriously, and that irritated her. Ty was never serious. Oh, deep down he was, but he usually masked it with lazy smiles and sarcastic remarks.
But whatever this was had him giving no pretense of humor.
She focused on the computer and brought up the security footage. She ignored the flutter of panic in her throat, dismissed it as foolish. Whatever was going on was Ty’s problem, and once she showed him the footage he’d realize that and leave her alone.
She fast-forwarded through the day, moving the cursor to around seven when the man had come in. She zipped through her conversation with Jim and his case of beer, then hit Play when the door opened after Jim’s exit.
They both watched in silence, heads nearly together as they studied the video.
“You can’t see him,” Ty said flatly, his breath making the hair at her ear dance. She ignored the shiver of reaction and made sure her voice was even before she spoke.
“Give it a second.”
They continued to watch, and Jen could only hope Ty was so focused on the video he didn’t notice the goose bumps on her arm or the way her breathing wasn’t exactly even.
She had to fight viciously against the memories that wanted to worm their way into her consciousness. Memories of them together. Close like this. Not at all clothed like this.
But it was silence around them, heavy, pregnant silence, and she didn’t dare look to see if Ty was keeping his eyes on the computer. Of course he was. That’s what they were here for.
“You can’t see his face,” Ty repeated.
Jen peered at the form on the screen. She saw herself, watching the man’s entrance. And everywhere the man moved, his hat obscured his face from the camera.
“He did it on purpose.”
“How would he have known where the camera is?” Jen returned. It was so natural, the way the stranger on the video kept his head down. She wanted to believe Ty was overreacting, but an uncomfortable feeling itched along her spine.
“He did it on purpose,” Ty said in that same flat tone.
“Keep watching. We’ll get a glimpse when he falls.”
But as the man on the screen pitched forward into the candy, and then staggered back before falling to the ground, his face remained completely hidden by the hat.
Jen frowned at that. But surely a man who fell over didn’t purposefully shield himself from a security camera. It was just coincidence.
“Rewind it,” Ty ordered.
She opened her mouth to tell him not to order her around, but then huffed out a breath. Why bother arguing with a brick wall? She moved the cursor back to the man’s entrance, then slowed down the time.
Nothing changed. You couldn’t see the guy’s face. But she let Ty watch. She turned to study him. He was so close her nose all but brushed his cheek. If he noticed, he didn’t show it. His gaze was flat and blank, seeing nothing but the computer screen.
His profile could be so hard. He could be so hard, but there’d been softness and kindness underneath that mask all those years ago. Did it still exist? Or had military life sucked it out of him? Were any of the parts of him that she loved still in there, or were they all gone?
Horrified with that thought, she blinked at the stinging in her eyes. Stupid. It didn’t matter one way or the other. Yes, he’d broken her heart years ago, but she’d gotten over it. She’d moved on. And he definitely had.
So, her brain needed to stop taking detours to the past.
“He faked that fall,” Ty said, as if it was fact, not just his insane opinion on the matter.
“You’re being paranoid.”
He turned his head so fast she startled back. His eyes were blazing blue, and no matter how tightly he held his jaw, his mouth was soft. She knew exactly what it would feel like on hers.
What the hell was wrong with her? She closed her eyes against the heated wave of embarrassment.
“I am not being paranoid,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “I’m being rational. I’m putting all the dots together. That man didn’t fall because he was starving. Did you see that fancy camera? He can afford to eat.”
She opened her eyes, irritation exceeding embarrassment and old stupid feelings. “That doesn’t mean—”
“And furthermore,” Ty said, getting in her face no matter how she leaned away in her chair, “even if he did fall, he kept his face away from that camera for a reason. I know it. Now, you want to prove it, you watch hours of your own security tape and see if that happens with any other person.”
He held her gaze, though after a while some of that furious, righteous anger softened into something else. Something... Something as his blue eyes roamed her face, settled on her mouth.
Jen shot out of the chair, ignoring the fact she bumped into him, and then scrambled away. “I...have to open the store,” she stuttered. “Everyone’s expecting me to open at three.” She was being foolish, but her heart was hammering in her throat and she had to get out of this tiny room where Ty loomed far too large.
He stood, blocking the door, still as a rock, eyeing her carefully. “You have to be careful, Jen.”
She fisted her hands on her hips. “He isn’t after me. Now let me out.”
“He came in here. He talked to you. There’s something purposeful in that.”
“What do I have to do with your threatening letters?”
He heaved out a breath. “Look.” He shook his head, crossed his arms over his chest. He looked at the ceiling, then dropped his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets.
She raised her eyebrows. Nerves? No, not exactly, but definitely discomfort. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Ty something like unsure.
“I have a feeling this ties to someone I was in the military with,” he said, sounding disgusted with himself.
“Again, what does that have to do with me?”
“If it’s someone I knew? Someone I bunked with? They would have listened to me talk about home, about my family, about...” He nodded in her direction.
She could only blink at him. He’d talked about her? After leaving her like she was garbage you dumped on the side of the road? It didn’t make any sense.
“I can’t tell anything from that tape, but I’ve got threatening letters and a strange man in your store, so I’ve got to think of the obvious conclusion here. You could be in danger.”
“That’s absurd,” she responded. It had to be.
He stepped forward, and before she could sidestep him, he took her by the chin. Her whole body zoomed off into some other dimension she hadn’t been to in a very long time. She could only stare at him, while his big, rough hand held her face in place.
“I need you to be careful.” He was so solemn, so serious.
Her throat constricted and her heart beat so hard she was sure her whole body vibrated from the violence of it.
His grip on her chin softened, his fingertip moving along the line of her jaw. She wanted to melt into a puddle, but she wasn’t seventeen anymore, and with that fission of delight she was reminded she hated Ty Carson.
She slapped his hand away, raising her chin at him, trying for regal instead of panicked. “Don’t manhandle me.”
He only raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” she said, with more feeling than she should have shown him.
“I want you to be aware. Take precautions. Keep yourself safe and protected, and if that man comes in your store again, I want you to call me immediately.” He moved out of the way of the door and her exit. “It’s that simple.”
Simple? Sure. As if anything to do with Ty Carson was simple.
* * *
TY WALKED OUT of the general store knowing he’d overplayed his hand. Disgusted with himself for getting wrapped up in old feelings and memories and not focusing on the task at hand, he stalked to his motorcycle.
But he couldn’t eradicate the look of Jen’s brown eyes, wide on his, her mouth open in shock as he’d held her face. The flutter of pulse. It felt as though in that moment a million memories had arced between them.
He tried to shake it off. They weren’t the same people. He had regrets, sure. He should have handled everything with her father differently. But he hadn’t and there was no reason to beat himself up over it. You couldn’t change the past.
And he couldn’t change the fact being a soldier and away from home for nearly a decade with only sporadic visits when on leave had altered him. He wasn’t the same teenager who’d run off when the right pressure was applied. Even though Jen had stayed in Bent, she wasn’t the same girl.
They were different people, and if there was still a physical attraction it would be best if they both ignored it.
But even more important than that, he had to protect her from whatever was going on. He wasn’t sure how to do that yet, but he knew he had to figure it out.
He almost ran right into someone, so lost in his own irritable thoughts. He opened his mouth to apologize, until he recognized the middle-aged man before him.
Mr. Delaney’s eyes went from the store, to Ty, and then went hard and flat. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Carson.”
Funny how time didn’t change the utter authority in this man’s voice. Jen’s father thought he owned the world, and Ty was sick with regret for ever being a part of that certainty.
“Know what I’m doing? Hmm.” Ty smiled. “I suppose I always do.”
“You’ll watch your step where my daughter is concerned.”
Ty raised an eyebrow and looked back at the store himself. Then he let his smile widen into a wolfish grin.
“I got rid of you once, Tyler. I don’t know why I couldn’t do it again.”
Ty didn’t let the violent fury show. He wouldn’t give this man the satisfaction. He kept the smile in place, made sure his voice was lazy, but with enough edge to carry a threat. “I seem to recall you fooling around with a m
arried woman, Delaney. I wonder what other dirty skeletons are rattling around in your closet. More torrid connections to other Carsons? Or are your kids taking care of that these days?”
It irritated Ty that not even a flicker of that blow hitting showed on Delaney’s face, though he knew it was at least a little knock to the man’s pride. That it had come out he’d had an affair with a woman who’d been married to someone else. And not just that, a woman who was blood related to Ty himself.
“Your cousins have made my children very happy,” Delaney said, surprising the hell out of Ty. “Maybe you shouldn’t have run away all those years ago.” He smiled pleasantly. “But you did. The kind of running away that isn’t so easy to forgive.”
Ty kept his smile in place by sheer force of will. He’d faced down his father’s fists. He had no trouble facing down Delaney’s barbs. “Funny thing about coming back home again.” He glanced at the store. “Some things never change, and some people are more forgiving than others.”
Finally he got a reaction out of Delaney, though it was only a tightening of his jaw. Still, it was better than nothing. “Impending grandparenthood looks good on you, Delaney. Have a nice day.” He patted the man’s shoulder, gratified when Delaney jerked away and stalked into the store.
To Jen. Ty sighed. The simple truth was he had more to worry about than Jen or her father. He had to worry about the messages he was receiving, the uncomfortable gut feeling he had that Jen was in danger. Because of him.
The most important thing was keeping her safe. Not because he still had feelings for her, but because it was the right thing to do. The timing of the letter, the mention of first loves and this stranger’s appearance in the store were too close to be coincidental or for him to believe Jen wasn’t a target.
If this connected to his military days—which were the only days he’d spent away from Bent—and Jen was a target, it would have to be from early in his career. Before the rangers.
He racked his brain for someone he’d wronged, someone he’d had friction with. A few superiors, but nothing personal. Just normal army stuff, and he’d hardly been the only soldier who’d occasionally mouthed off and gotten punished for it. There’d been the man he’d ratted out, but the man on the tape wasn’t Oscar. Not even close. Besides, Oscar had to have known his time in the army was limited when he couldn’t keep himself out of the booze or drugs.