Tanner sauntered over, a wicked grin on his lips, and plopped down onto the bed bedside her. “I hope you catch your second wind,” he told her. He fingered a strand of her hair and his knuckles brushed her cheek. “I’ve got plans for you.”
A shiver slid down her spine and her belly clenched with raw need. “What sort of plans?”
He leaned over and traced the shell of her ear with his tongue. Another hot shiver eddied through her and she felt her bones melt, her will—whatever remained of it—liquefy. “Depraved ones,” he breathed.
She turned and caught his lips with her own, savoring the taste of him against her tongue. Her nipples pearled and her sex slickened and, for the moment, nothing mattered but him. He was her everything. Her very heart and illogically, she’d let him have it again.
“Ah,” she whispered against his mouth. “Then I should probably just follow your lead.”
He chuckled softly and the wicked sound melted over her heart like butter over a warm bun. “I like that plan best of all.”
She rested her forehead against his and released a small sigh. A tangle of need and affection, regret and joy twisted her insides, making her breath catch. “I have a mortifying secret to confess.”
His laugh was pure sin. “Yes?”
“That plan is rapidly becoming my favorite.”
Following him had never been a problem—keeping up, on the other hand, was another matter altogether.
But tonight wasn’t the night to think about that.
Tonight they were safely cocooned in this room and his depraved plans awaited
12
THE FIRST FINGERS OF dawn were crawling across the horizon when Tanner awoke the next morning, peeking through a small gap in the drapes. Something was different, he knew, but it took a couple of minutes to isolate the change.
No nightmare.
For the first time in four months, he hadn’t dreamed of death and screaming, bloodied children or lifeless little bodies. He hadn’t dreamed of the bombing, hadn’t felt it rattle his teeth even though he knew it was impossible to truly feel something that was only happening in a nightmare.
Mia lay draped across his chest, her head resting over his heart, her leg slung over his thigh. Her small hand lay trustingly over his chest and he felt her hair trail over his arm, where he held her.
That was the difference, he realized.
She was the difference.
He’d been so consumed with obliterating every other guy—any who’d come before or would come after—from her mind and body that he’d worn himself out, made himself too tired to even dream. He felt a slow smile slide over his lips And it had been heavenly.
The idea of leaving her today, of getting into the car and going to the airport, of getting on a plane and removing himself several hundred miles from her felt wrong on more levels than he could count, but he knew it was the only way. One nightmareless night didn’t mean that he was in any way ready to let her back into his life, to let anyone in, for that matter. And he certainly didn’t want her to have to hold his hand through what he knew would be countless setbacks.
Mia had said he was a good man, that he was not weak, not a coward, and to some degree, he imagined she was right. No one knew his failures and shortcomings as well as he did, but he wasn’t so blinded by his immediate past anymore to forget that he had been a good soldier, he had protected his country to the best of his ability…for as long as he could. There was honor in that and for the first time in months, he could see it.
But when it came to her…he was absolutely terrified of failing her again, of not being the man she thought he was. She’d known the idealistic boy determined to make his mark, not the world-weary soldier who’d witnessed senseless death and destruction. True, he’d been fighting for the greater good, and he still believed in that, still loved his country and respected the men who continued to wear the uniform. On some level, he’d always be a soldier.
But he’d had the blinders ripped from his eyes and hadn’t liked what he’d seen. It had been too much, too painful.
He simply couldn’t get it out of his head—the images wouldn’t leave him.
He was damaged goods now, disillusioned and jaded and, as much as he’d like to pretend that it had never happened, to just move forward and build a life with her, he didn’t think he could and was too damned terrified to try. A bitter laugh built in the back of his throat.
In short, he was a coward, just a different variety.
He didn’t want her to dust off that old dream again for him, not when the rubble from his own life would just muck it up.
She sighed sleepily against his chest and he knew the exact moment when she awoke. She flexed her toes and her eyelashes fluttered against his chest.
He rather liked that, Tanner thought.
“Rise and shine,” he murmured, his voice rusty.
“How did you know I was awake?”
“Keen sense of intuition,” he said.
“I moved, didn’t I? Stretched.”
“Actually, it was your eyelashes. They tickled me when you opened your eyes.”
She hummed under her breath, a sleepy, happy sound. His chest squeezed. “You always wake up before I do.”
“Habit,” he murmured with effort. “Too many mornings getting up before dawn.”
She laughed softly. “I am very rarely up before dawn.” She peeked up at him. “You know what I noticed?”
“What?”
She smiled. “No nightmare last night.”
“I know,” he said, his throat strangely tight. “First time in four months. It was nice.”
She propped up on one elbow. “Four months?” A line emerged between her brows. “You’ve been having those horrible dreams for four months?”
Tanner sighed. “Yes.”
Concern tightened her eyes and she traced a finger along his chest. He watched her swallow. “Tanner, have you talked to someone? I don’t mean me,” she hastened to add. “I mean, a professional.”
“I have,” he admitted. “It’s just going to take time. It has to get easier,” he said.
“Because it can’t get any worse? Has it gotten any better at all?”
“Since coming out of the military, you mean?”
She nodded.
“A little,” he said, trying to lighten the moment. He gave her a squeeze. “I’d say last night was an improvement, a breakthrough even.”
She rested her head against his chest once more, absently doodling her fingers over his belly. “Oh, Tanner,” she said. “What am I going to do with you?” It was a rhetorical question, but he felt compelled to answer anyway.
“More of the same?” he suggested helpfully.
“You know what I mean.” She paused. “I heard you, you know,” she said. “Not just the yelling,” she clarified.
“But you… You talked in your sleep.”
He stilled and his heart rate kicked into overdrive.
His mouth went bone-dry. “You heard me? What do you mean? What did I say?”
A beat slid to three. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Tanner chuckled grimly, dread balling in his gut.
“That bad, eh?”
“You mentioned a school.” She said it casually, as though it were just a minor little tidbit, but her tone didn’t lessen the blow.
Tanner flinched.
She kissed his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
Nausea clawed up his throat. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. I—”
She leaned up and glared at him. Her eyes were wet but fierce. “Don’t you dare apologize to me for having to hear it,” she scolded. “You saw it. You still can’t get it out of your head. I can’t even imagine… And I don’t want to.” She gave a delicate shudder. “It’s too horrible to try. A school. It’s unconscionable.”
He chuckled grimly. “That’s just it. The people who did it have no conscience. How do you fight something like that? T
he standard rules of war don’t apply. We went in to help, to liberate the village—” bile rose in his throat, forcing him to swallow “—and they waited on a hill above the city until they saw us come in and remote detonated most of the town.”
She gasped softly, seemingly horrified, then laid her head back on his chest. “Oh, Tanner.”
“Bastards.”
Her voice was hard when she spoke. “That’s not a good enough epithet.”
He silently concurred. “I was done after that, you know,” he said. “I just…couldn’t do it anymore.” Bitterness crept into his tone. “And if it makes me weak, or cowardly or a disgrace to the Crawford name then so be it,” he said. He stroked her hair. “I can live with that easier than I could the other.”
“You are none of those things, Tanner Crawford, you hear me?” she said, giving him an emphatic squeeze. “None of them.” Something wet and warm splashed against his chest. Her tears, he realized.
Startled, he raised her up. “Don’t cry,” he said, shushing her, wiping the moisture from the corner of her eye.
“It’s just so sad,” she said. “You hear things like this on the news, but we’ve grown so desensitized to it. It registers for a fleeting second, then it’s gone and life goes on, you know. We’re always a step removed.”
“You’re supposed to be. The military is the front line.”
She shook her head. “I don’t like that answer.”
He kissed her salty cheek. “You wouldn’t, would you, Bossy.”
“I said it yesterday and I’m going to say it again because it bears repeating and, frankly, I think you need to hear it.” She leaned up and looked him dead in the eye. “You’re a good man, Tanner Crawford. You are not weak, you are not a coward and you damned sure aren’t a disgrace.” Her gaze softened and she reached up and traced her fingers along his cheek. There it was again, that affection. It slayed him. Left him breathless. “You have a noble heart, one that is good and true. And that’s what I see when I look at you, not a coward. Never a coward.” She framed his face with her hands and kissed him gently. “I’m so proud of you.”
No one, not even his mother or grandfather, had ever said that to him before. A nebulous obstruction formed in his throat, preventing him from speaking. The person he’d wronged the most, the one he’d betrayed by leaving. She was proud of him. In that moment, her opinion became the only one that mattered. He merely nodded his thanks, then thanked her again the best way he knew how.
And he started with another kiss. And if this one was a bit desperate, then that’s because he was.
BECAUSE SHE WAS DETERMINED not to let him see how much his confession upset her, the glib way he’d described what had happened to make him leave the military, Mia did all of her weeping in the shower. She wept for him, for the horrors he’d seen, for those poor children and their parents and, if she were honest, for herself, too.
Tanner Crawford was many things. He was funny, he was sexy, he was noble, loyal, fearless, honorable, brilliant and courageous, just to name a few.
He was also in no place to start a relationship.
She knew that. She’d known it going in. Right now Tanner was focused on being the best former soldier turned security expert that he could be. That meant keeping the clutter in his admittedly shattered life to a minimum.
She was clutter.
He didn’t have to tell her that. She was all too familiar with his modus operandi—it was too much a part of who he was—and, whereas she’d briefly resented him for it all those years ago, in all honesty, she couldn’t this time.
In just a few short hours they would arrive in Dallas and he would leave her again. And, once again, she’d pretend like it didn’t matter.
But it did.
The thought of watching him walk out of her life once more, particularly in his current wounded state, was almost more than she could bear. But if he could bear what he currently carried, then she could do this for him. She could make it easy. What he was dealing with was hard enough. She wouldn’t compound his difficulties by forming any expectations.
Mia had absolutely no regrets about being with Tanner again and she didn’t want him to have any, either. In fact, the only regret she wanted to leave him with was the regret that they hadn’t had more time together.
When she left the bathroom, her eyes were a little puffy, but they were dry.
He was on the phone. He stood at the desk and fiddled with the desk pad, then idly flipped through the complimentary binder which outlined the motels amenities. They should add “Easy to monitor and exit if need be” to the list, Mia thought.
“I know, Gramps. Yeah,” he said. “I think it’s going to suit. It’s different, but I’m working with some great guys. Former Rangers who had similar motivation for coming out,” he trailed off, as though he’d said too much. He paused, stilled, and his gaze sharpened. “No, sir. You never told me that. I didn’t know.” He chuckled, shook his head. “Yes, sir, there are a lot things I imagine I don’t know. I—” Another pause, presumably while his grandfather spoke. He ducked his head, evidently chastened. “Yes, sir. I shouldn’t presume to know your mind. I should have called. I—” He listened once more and something in his gaze softened. “Fishing? Yeah, that’d be great. I’ll get up there as soon as I can.” He added a few assurances, then disconnected.
She didn’t have to hear the other side of the conversation to know what had just happened. Tanner had evidently lumped his grandfather in with his father when it came to how the pair of them would react to his leaving. That assumption had apparently irritated the older man. Tanner clearly hadn’t given him enough credit.
“I like your grandfather,” Mia announced with a decisive nod.
He chuckled and his gaze swung to hers. “He’s a good man. I was afraid he’d—” He hesitated.
“React in the same manner as your father?” Mia finished.
He nodded. “I never did anything well enough to suit Dad,” Tanner told her, his voice only slightly bitter. “So his reaction to me leaving the military wasn’t unexpected. I wasn’t sure how my grandfather would feel about it, and to tell you the truth, I…just didn’t want to know.”
Because it would have been more terrible to be a disappointment to his grandfather than his father. She could understand that. From the sounds of things, his grandfather did, too.
“I had no idea you liked to fish,” she said, changing the direction of the conversation to something lighter.
He grinned. “Gramps has a pond he stocks with catfish. When I was little, he’d take me down there and bait my hook with a bread ball. I caught an eighteen-pounder with a one of those when was I was ten.” He chuckled, remembering, and passed a hand over his face.
“A bread ball? Seriously?” She’d never heard of that. Of course, she’d never been fishing so why would she have?
He nodded. “Nothing fancy for Gramps, not when something simple works just as well.”
“Sounds like a smart man.”
“He is,” Tanner murmured, still lost in thought. His gaze landed on her feet and he grinned. “Back in the heels, I see,” he said, his appreciative gaze drifting lazily from one end of her body to the other.
“Back to work today,” she announced too brightly. “The heels are part of my uniform.” They were red, a peep-toe pump with a gold heel. They’d been her promotion present to herself. She coordinated the rest of the outfit around them. Red skirt with a flutter hem, fitted jacket and a white silk cami.
“You look lovely,” Tanner said, ducking his head in a reverent nod, looking adorably nervous about issuing the compliment.
Pleasure bloomed inside her already breaking heart. “Thank you.”
He hesitated, looked longingly at her, his face a mixture of emotion she’d never seen on it before. Finally, he straightened. “We should go.”
“I’m ready,” she lied. “You’ve got Moe, right?”
He slapped the backpack slung over his shoulder. “He’s ri
ght here.”
“You still think he doesn’t work?” she asked as they exited the room.
“I went hard the first time I saw you again and Moe was nowhere around,” he said, to her astonishment. He put his fingers on the small of her back, propelling her forward. “He has absolutely no influence on my libido. You are one-hundred percent responsible for my behavior over the past few days, and if you try to tell me that Moe Dick is responsible for yours—that you were only attracted to me because of that little stone statue—I will have no choice but to pound the idea right out of your head. And that pounding will take place in bed,” he added. “Which is only fitting, in my opinion.”
It was the longest speech she’d ever heard him make. Her lips twitched. “I had no idea you felt so strongly about it.”
He glared down at her. “You’re laughing at me.”
“No, I’m not,” she said, smothering a damning chuckle. She flattened her lips. “I’m not. Really.”
Tanner opened the car door for her, a sardonic smile on his unbelievably carnal mouth. “You’re a piss-poor liar, you know that, Bossy?”
She hoped not, Mia thought. Because she was going to have to tell him a whopper when it came time to say goodbye.
EVERYTHING WAS IN PLACE, the man thought.
He was ready.
He was waiting.
He would win.
13
TANNER PULLED INTO the parking lot, as close to the back entrance as possible. Dread weighted his shoulders and a mass of it set in his belly, making him nauseous. Once Moe Dick was safely inside, his job was finished. He would return to Atlanta, having completed his first mission successfully for Ranger Security.
He should feel some sort of satisfaction right now, should be skating the edge of fulfillment. Instead, he felt strangely hollow inside. As though he were standing on the periphery of a huge canyon and the next step was going to see him hurled into a huge abyss of misery as yet unknown.
From the corner of his eye, he watched Mia swallow. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again.
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