At Any Cost

by Mandy Baxter

  Livy gave him a sidelong glance as she wrapped a scarf around her neck. “So are you saying I shouldn’t feel guilty about choosing somewhere very high-end?”

  “I encourage it,” Nick said. “I want the best.”

  “Oh my God!” Livy gasped with feigned shock, and Nick cast a suspicious glance her way. “Are you a . . . foodie?” His charming half smile sent her into a frenzied state where she pictured her ovaries perking up and panting like happy little puppies. The man was so fucking gorgeous it wouldn’t surprise her that the mere sight of him made her as fertile as the Nile.

  Darkness swallowed them as they stepped beyond the stretch of the porch light toward Nick’s truck. Livy had always loved winter—the cold and piles of snow didn’t bother her—but the seemingly perpetual darkness got to be a bit of a downer after a while. Summer nights in McCall were amazing. Sunsets were gorgeous until almost ten o’clock and the cool air from the lake wafted in through the upstairs window to cool the house from the heat of the day. It sucked that she wouldn’t be here for another summer. She’d miss living here.

  “Livy?”

  Nick stood at the passenger side of the truck, the door held open for her. Good-looking and a gentleman? Jesus. He really was Prince Charming. Her sex drive wasn’t simply yipping like an excited puppy anymore, it was full-on howling.

  “Sorry.” She hoofed it through the snow and hopped in the truck. “I, uh, couldn’t remember if I locked the door or not.” Oh dear Lord. Livy, are you insane? Like he didn’t notice her lock and unlock her door a hundred freaking times. Her excuses for getting lost in her own stupid thoughts were becoming less believable by the second.

  Nick gave her a wry look. “I’m pretty sure you’re good to go.” Her stomach did a backflip as his eyes met hers for a moment before he closed the door and rounded the truck to the driver’s side.

  “Okay, where are we going?” Nick asked as he climbed in and started the truck.

  “No price restrictions, huh, foodie?” Livy teased.

  “I want my credit card to weep at the end of dinner.”

  Laughter bubbled in Livy’s chest. “All right, you asked for it. Let’s go to The Narrows at Shore Lodge,” she said. “I promise, your Visa will sob.”

  “Perfect.”

  Perfect. That one word described Nick to a T. Livy was starting to wonder if he had a fatal flaw. Guys like Nick weren’t usually what Livy went for. Way too far out of her league to even have a chance. Nick made her feel like she could be a different person, though. One who deserved better than a user or abuser. She just hoped that he wouldn’t eventually prove that wild theory wrong.

  * * *

  The Narrows wasn’t far from the house. Situated in the swanky Shore Lodge on Payette Lake, the place boasted a world-class chef and the cuisine to go along with their rustic décor. The hotel itself was gorgeous and looked out over the lake. Nick felt cheated of the view in the dark of night. Maybe he’d bring Livy back for breakfast or brunch on her next day off.

  Jesus. He gave himself a mental shake. He wasn’t in McCall to date Livy. Why did it seem as though he had to remind himself of that fact more and more? This was about slapping cuffs on Meecum, bringing a violent criminal to justice, and claiming the bragging rights of being the marshal who brought him in. He peeked over the top of the menu at Livy. He’d quit thinking of her as Kari Hanson the minute he’d introduced himself to her that morning in the snowstorm. That was part of the problem. Like her, he’d bought into the persona she’d created. He didn’t want her to know anything about Meecum. He didn’t want her to be a person of interest.

  Scratch that. She was a person of interest all right, but Nick’s interest in her was starting to become more personal by the day. If he’d been officially on the job, he’d be working this case with a partner. They would have introduced themselves to Livy, flashed their badges, and thrown their weight around from the get-go. They wouldn’t have wasted any time in calling her out on her fake identity. Nick would have personally shaken her down and demanded that she turn on her ex or face jail time for conspiracy and obstruction. As a united front, they would have pushed her, scared her, thrown out a few thinly veiled legal threats. They might’ve even played good cop, bad cop with her and ultimately offered her protection if she flipped on Meecum and told them everything she knew.

  Instead, Nick was practically dating her. He was a real credit to his badge.

  Livy studied the menu with wide eyes. The delight so obvious in her expression transformed her, made her even more beautiful and soft. “Everything on the menu looks delicious,” she said with a wide grin. “I haven’t eaten anything like this since—” A look of pure shock chased over her features and she reached out to take a nervous sip from her water glass.

  She’d been on the verge of letting something slip. “Since what?” Nick asked, hoping to edge her closer to finally divulging something about herself that was real. Something personal that he could use in his research of her.

  She studied him for a moment. The quiet intensity of it unnerved him. Livy looked straight into his eyes, inside of him, through him as though she could somehow test his worthiness of whatever she’d been about to say. They balanced at the cusp of something huge. Trust. Nick wanted her to trust him, he practically willed it. Come on, Livy. I can help you. Let me.

  “Not since I won the junior division slalom title when I was seventeen and my mom took me out to celebrate.”

  Yes! Warm emotion swelled in Nick’s chest. Livy was a tough nut to crack but he’d managed to create the tiniest fissure. The knowledge that she’d given him some small bit of truth felt like a gift. Something precious and invaluable that had been entrusted into his safekeeping. And damn it, it felt good.

  Nick lowered his menu to give her his full attention. “You must be a much better skier than you let on. Not really Olympic level? I’d say you were being modest. That’s amazing, Livy.”

  Color rose to her cheeks and Nick’s breath hitched. She glanced away as though embarrassed. No. She was angry with herself for letting a personal truth slip. Her lips thinned before she let out a slow breath. “It’s not a big deal,” she murmured. “It was a long time ago.”

  “You’re what . . . twenty-five, twenty-six?” Nick ventured. “It couldn’t have been that long ago.”

  “Twenty-five,” she said with a wry grin. “It feels like forever ago.” The sadness in her tone gutted him. “I’m practically a grandma.”

  Oftentimes, the marshals caught fugitives simply because they grew tired of hiding out. Even lowlife violent criminals couldn’t survive in isolation for long. It was a wonder Meecum had made it this far, though the Marshals Service had always surmised that it had been easier for him to evade capture because of the network of members in the Black Death MC that helped him. Livy hadn’t been so lucky. One of the reasons it had been hard to track her down was because they literally hadn’t been able to find any information on Kari Hanson that would help lead them to her. No family, no work history, nothing. They’d assumed that Kari was another alias and that she’d been a fugitive when she’d hooked up with Joel. That theory had been shot to shit the moment Nick laid eyes on her. There wasn’t a single scenario he could conjure in his mind that made her a criminal or put her in any sort of relationship with Joel Meecum, romantic or otherwise.

  “Why’d you quit racing?”

  Livy traced the pad of her finger around the lip of her water glass. Nick’s gaze was drawn to the motion and he couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have that digit trace a similar pattern on his skin. A tingle of sensation raced down his spine and settled at the base of his cock. He needed to get his shit together and focus on why he was here before he did something stupid. Because with every passing second in her company, stupid gained more and more appeal.

  “Ran out of money,” she said with a shrug. She tried to play it off as no big deal but Nick didn’t buy it. “Ski racing is a super-expensive sport. I had a couple of spon
sorship offers but they weren’t enough. In juniors, there’s a lot of travel. Private schooling to accommodate training schedules, that sort of thing. It adds up.”

  “Damn.” Nick could only imagine how crushing it had been for her to quit. “That’s rough. I’m sorry, Livy.”

  “It is what it is.” She took a sip from her glass. “It could have been worse. I could have been forced to quit because of an injury. At least I’m fit and can still ski for fun. That’s what’s important.”

  “And that you have no regrets,” Nick added.

  Her expression darkened. Livy obviously had a few regrets. He just wished he knew what they were. “Right,” she said, low.

  Their conversation was interrupted when the server came back around to take their order. “Remember,” Nick said with a grin, “I want my credit card to weep.”

  She cast a sidelong glance at their server who wore an ear-to-ear grin. No doubt he expected everyone at the table—including himself—to be pleased with the outcome of tonight’s meals. Nick found himself wanting to spend money on Livy. To buy her things she needed or simply wanted. To wine and dine her, to make her feel lavished with attention. Had anyone ever spoiled her? Had Joel? Or had he simply hurt her? Done something so horrible to her that she’d had no choice but to run and hide.

  The thought sent Nick’s temper into a sudden and unexpected tailspin.

  “And for you . . . ?”

  Nick looked up into the expectant face of their server as though he’d only realized the guy was standing there. “Oh, um, I’ll have the Elk chop with purple potatoes.”

  “That’s one of my favorites,” he said. “Totally a local specialty.” Nick had a feeling that he’d missed more than one question from their server while he’d been lost in his thoughts. He raised his brows in question and he added, “Did you want to start off with any appetizers, or just the entrees?”

  He had said he wanted his credit card to cry. Obviously their server felt as though they’d barely made it break a sweat. Nick took a quick glance over the menu. “We’ll start with the steamed mussels and the duck meatballs.”

  “Great!” He perked up with every item added to their ticket. “I’ll get the apps started and I’ll be back to refresh your drinks in a bit.”

  “What did you order?” Nick couldn’t believe that he’d lost himself so completely in his thoughts. Finding Meecum had become his obsession, but now that he knew the one woman who could lead him to the bastard, his focus had slowly begun to shift. He needed to get his damned head back in the game.

  “The lobster linguine,” Livy said with chagrin. “I hope that’s okay.”

  Nick had been so preoccupied with the woman seated across from him that he hadn’t even bothered for more than a cursory glance at the menu. “Of course it’s okay,” he replied. He’d come to the conclusion that Livy didn’t appreciate people spending money on her. Why? “I told you we were going all out tonight. I want the full culinary experience.”

  “You’re gonna get it,” she said with a laugh. “Elk chops?”

  He smiled. “You heard our server, it’s a local specialty.”

  Nick tried to steer their conversation back to Livy’s life. Not only because he was looking for something to get him closer to Meecum, but because he found himself greedy for every little detail. He wanted to know everything about her. Every tiny nuance. Livy wasn’t having it.

  “Nope. Enough about me.” She’d slipped once tonight and it became apparent that it wasn’t going to happen again. She didn’t waste any time in shutting him down. “I want to know more about you. What’s it like to take down the bad guys every day?”

  Her tone showed genuine interest. Not exactly what you’d expect from someone who kept company with assholes who harbored nothing but disdain for law enforcement.

  “It’s amazing,” Nick said. He wanted Livy to trust him. To be honest with him. It was going to take more than a one-sided exchange of personal details to get it done. He looked away and raked a hand through his hair. “Sometimes I take it a little too personally.”

  “Why?”

  Nick couldn’t bring himself to meet Livy’s gaze. The softly spoken word made his gut knot up tight. His mind was at war with his emotions and he wasn’t sure which he wanted to win.

  “My sister was assaulted when she was in high school.” Nick wanted to open up to Livy, but he couldn’t go deeper than that. Despite the time that had passed, even thinking about what had happened to Lindsey sent him into a rage. “It was pretty bad. I want to make sure that never happens on my watch. Somebody does wrong, I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure they stand accountable for it.”

  Livy’s expression softened with a deep sadness. Her wide hazel eyes drank him in and when he allowed himself to meet her gaze, his breath stalled in his lungs. Her lips parted on a sigh and Nick gripped the edge of the table to keep from reaching out and brushing his thumb against her petal-soft bottom lip.

  “You’re not what I expected, Nick.”

  Neither are you. Maybe they’d both gotten more than they’d bargained for.

  Chapter Eight

  Dinner passed in a blur. Livy had resisted the urge more than once to poke herself with her fork, just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Four years. One thousand, four hundred and sixty days of loneliness. Of being afraid. Of looking over her shoulder. Of being so goddamned tense that her muscles never stopped aching. One evening with Nick erased all of it. Almost made her feel . . . normal.

  Now that their evening was winding down, Livy’s shoulders no longer felt as though they crept toward her ears. She hadn’t obsessively checked behind her once. Not a passing thought had been given to her house and whether or not she’d remembered to lock all of the windows and doors. She could have stayed at the restaurant all night. Sitting with Nick, talking about nothing and everything, sipping wine and simply enjoying his company. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so comfortable with another person. Especially with a man.

  Nick wasn’t a dirty cop. He wasn’t on the take. He didn’t have an agenda. He was a good guy. Honorable. With every minute spent in his company, Livy became more convinced that he was someone she could trust. Maybe even someone who could help her. It was dangerous to let her guard down like that, but she couldn’t help herself. Nick made her want to trust. To finally let someone in. She wanted him despite her own self-imposed rules and safeguards.

  But Livy knew better. She couldn’t allow herself to want anything or anyone. Nick made her forget the very real danger in her life and the very dangerous man who would never stop looking for her. She’d gotten a glimpse of what a normal life could be and it further strengthened her resolve to pack up and find a new place to settle down.

  Alone is better than dead.

  Livy clutched the cardboard box that contained the rest of her cheesecake close to her body as Nick rounded the front of his truck. She caught his profile in the glow of the headlights and a rush of delicious heat raced through her veins. The food had been too good, the dessert too decadent, and the wine too heady. It left Livy feeling a little too brazen. She wanted to do something irresponsible for a change. She wanted to be reckless.

  With Nick.

  The dome light came on when he opened her door. Cold flooded the cab of the truck and she shivered, but Livy wasn’t sure if her reaction was from the winter wind or the man who stood in the open space beside her, close enough to touch.

  “Are you a nice guy, Nick?” The question left her lips, unbidden. Too late to suck them back in, Livy gauged his reaction from the furrow of his brow to the set of his jaw.

  “No.” He didn’t bullshit her though, and that earned him a few points no matter the tremor of fear that settled in her belly. “Not really. Do you want to know why I’m on vacation, Livy?”

  Did she? Despite the cold that soaked through her coat and permeated her skin, Livy stayed put. “Why?”

  “Because I don’t follow orders well.” The
dark timbre of his voice heated Livy from the inside out. “My coworkers think I’m a reckless, pigheaded pain in the ass. My chief told me to take a month off, to think about what I wanted and to come back with a clear head, ready to follow orders. And you know what? Nothing’s going to change. I’m going to go back and continue to be the same disagreeable asshole I was before he kicked me out of his office. Because I have to be. Because those violent sons of bitches out on the streets aren’t going to change. I’ll keep going, until I put as many of those bastards in cuffs as I can and I’ll do whatever it takes to get it done.”

  A knot lodged in Livy’s chest. “That doesn’t make you a bad guy, Nick.”

  “Maybe not,” he said with a derisive snort. “But it probably doesn’t make me a good cop.”

  He thought he was a bad cop? Livy wanted to laugh out loud. It seemed strange to be having this conversation while they sat out in the cold, but somehow it was easier for Livy to talk to him in the low light that shadowed his handsome face. “Have you ever taken a bribe, Nick? Planted or tampered with evidence? Blackmailed someone?” She swallowed down the fear that coated her throat. “Threatened someone?”

  His lips thinned. “No.”

  “Then you’re not a bad cop.”

  Nick leveled his gaze and Livy found herself helpless to look away. “What do you know about bad cops?”

  His tone wasn’t angry or even accusing. More concerned. It cut through her. “I . . .” But it didn’t mean she was ready to put her full trust in him either. “Nothing. I mean, that’s how bad cops are on TV. They’re not interested in taking down the bad guy, just serving their own interests.”

  Nick’s shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly as though he’d expected a different answer. That couldn’t have been the case, though. Nick couldn’t possibly know anything about her. She’d made damned sure that no one would. Olivia Gallagher was a ghost. And when she left McCall—which would be soon—Livy would stay behind and some other woman would take her place. Strange, but she almost mourned the imposing “death” of a person who didn’t exist. She liked Livy. Livy wasn’t bitter. Or disappointed. Livy’s dreams hadn’t been squashed before they’d even had a chance to take flight. Livy didn’t have expectations and enjoyed her simple life. Livy went on dates with gorgeous cops and ate lobster and cheesecake.