by Angi Morgan
“Toss me that pillow, will you?”
He did and left. It actually took him over half an hour to make it to the road, check out a noise from the nearest house and get back inside. The lights were off. His witness—or prisoner or damsel in distress who didn’t seem distressed at all—was fast asleep next to the fire.
Careful not to wake her, he gently shut the door, got a bottle of water and put his socked feet near the fire. He sucked the bottle dry, watching Megan sleep. It didn’t seem weird or feel strange.
“What time is it?” She stretched her arms from under the blanket. “Wow, you left over an hour ago. Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I was enjoying the fire while I warmed up.”
She pushed herself to a sitting position, flipped the electric blanket to low and repositioned her Battleship pieces. “Just in case you peeked while I was asleep.” She winked at him with a smile he was coming to appreciate. “You ready to lose your shirt?”
She was kidding, of course. No one ever played strip Battleship. Did they?
They called out the numbers. She took all his ships except one, the smallest. Then in two fatal blows...she’d won.
He stood and stretched, intending to put everything away.
“Not on your life. You lost. What’s coming off?”
“You’re joking. We agreed that we shouldn’t... That it wouldn’t be good to get too complicated.”
“A bet’s a bet, Jack. That’s all. No complications. You owe me a piece of clothing.” She crossed her arms, not laughing, just summing him up.
She had to be teasing him. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“But we agreed.”
“I believe you made up your mind and dictated. Come on, Jack. No one’s coming. If they had followed us, they would be here by now.”
“Like at the diner.”
“The diner was the perfect example of the SUVs not even knowing who they were chasing. You said several times that no one will think this is where you’d go. Not even your partner knows about this place.”
“Building a fire and playing a game or two doesn’t put us in danger.”
“I hear a big but coming, and I’m going to stop you before you say it. You said I could trust you. It’s simple, really. Either you’re a man of your word or not.”
Was this her way of going off on her own as soon as he was asleep? Would she leave his protection because he didn’t follow through on a simple bet?
“Dammit to hell and back.” He’d already pulled his boots off. They wouldn’t count. He should start with a sock but he unbuttoned his booster-club shirt and slipped it off his shoulders instead.
* * *
MEGAN HAD HER fingers crossed that he’d give in and pull his shirt off. He chucked it back to the couch and sat in his chair with a loud huff.
“You’re playing a very dangerous game.” He pulled out the plastic case with his ships and pegs and began resetting his board, before losing again and removing his undershirt.
She did the same, smashing her lips together to keep from laughing.
It was dangerous because of the attraction. But he’d teased her before sending her to her room. She’d gotten into the bedroom, turned up the heat and immediately found the electric blanket. But then it had dawned on her just how well Ranger Jack MacKinnon had played her like a fiddle.
Strip Battleship was all his fault.
It was her turn to take a long look and appreciate the man in front of her.
Every time he tensed, the muscles in his arms flexed. His chest looked rock solid, as if he hadn’t wasted a moment of his workouts. She did feel a little bad when he scooted his chair closer to the fire.
No, not really.
They began their third game. She worked her grid.
“Was this a test?”
“Sort of. But come on. You’re a nice guy to gaze at.”
He threw his head back and chuckled. “So it’s revenge?”
They called out more numbers. He hit a couple of ships and never let up until she was saying, “You sank my battleship.”
He leaned back, placing his hands behind his head. His bare chest across the table from her in all its perfection. “Your turn.”
“Oh, no. There’s no need to take this any further, Jack. I’ll head to bed.”
“Now you’re tired?” He ticktocked a finger at her and made a tsking sound. “Oh, no, lady. You better crank that blanket up to extra high. You’re going to need it. Now...something’s coming off.”
The tight high-school shirt that had restricted her breathing all day could finally come off. In fact, she almost had it over her head when it sort of got stuck. Jack reached across the table and lent her a hand for leverage.
Thank God she’d worn a good bra yesterday. Barely any lace, just plain, silky and beige. She quickly wrapped herself in the warmth of cotton.
“Are you game for another round?” he asked with a silky edge to his voice.
“Only if I can have that pie you haven’t eaten.”
“Sure. Help yourself.”
She unwrapped her legs and realized she’d have to retrieve the pie without the safety blanket. “I am pretty full.”
“Thought so.”
They rapidly called the numbers. Each taking a game and each losing a right sock. Then the left. When midnight rolled around, Jack began putting his socks back on.
“Forfeiting?” she asked, secretly relieved.
“Taking care of that pretty little hide of yours.” He stomped his second foot into his boot. “I’ve got to make another round of the perimeter.”
“Just remember where we were.”
“It’s going to be hard to forget in all the cold wind and drizzle sliding down my neck.”
“Isn’t there a hat or something you could borrow?”
“Better to just get it over with. I won’t be long.” He backed up to the fire, rubbing his hands up and down his jeans. His gorgeous sculpted chest called out to be touched, but she kept her hands to herself.
“This is as far as we should probably go. It was fun. The teasing is getting dangerously close to...what did you call it? Oh, yeah. Complications. Dangerously close to complications.”
“What? You suddenly don’t like complications? Or is it living dangerously that you’re hesitant about?”
Living dangerously? “Well, I’ve been on that radar since rock climbing with my dad. Then it was skydiving and a few flying lessons before I was twenty. Then my parents retired to England, and Mother declared it was her turn. She has him growing prize roses and trimming bushes. Check that—hedges.”
“Sounds like a nice life.” He nodded.
Was that envy or just agreement?
“It was until the academy. That’s when he withdrew his support. He wanted nothing to do with me becoming a cop.”
“So why did you?”
She’d answer him just as soon as she could look at his face and not his chest. My, oh, my. “I, um...I didn’t want to be a cop as much as I wanted to be an investigator. That’s why I transferred as soon as I met the TDI requirement.”
“At least your dad hasn’t got political aspirations and wanted to get elected by pulling you out of deep cover.”
“I sense some animosity. Did he really do that?” She was a little stunned, because she already knew the answer.
“He didn’t know where I was located. No one did. When he began his campaign, he wanted me to come home to kick it off. I didn’t. The ad people said they wanted to remind people my dad was a family man, the father of a Texas Ranger.”
“What happened?”
“Wade saw the commercials. They were pulled almost immediately, but the damage was done. He pretty much saved my life, getting me out of the area I’d been working.” He rubbed his heated je
ans again.
They’d both cooled off talking about their parents. The only heat left in the room was the actual fire. She gestured for the T-shirt, knowing she wouldn’t manage to get it back on with him standing there.
“Ready for this...game to end?”
“I guess it’s getting a little late.” She shrugged.
“Do you still have the key?” he asked, barely stepping aside to let her stand. He reached around her to move the chair and give her more room.
Wrapped up like a tamale, she wobbled. He caught her. Hands on her hips, his forehead in her chest... Parents or no parents, the fire between them ignited like an arsonist pouring gasoline on a flame.
Jack looked up at her, and the blanket fell away. His hands slid up her bare midriff, tugging her close. Skin to skin, he dipped that dimpled chin until he could fit his lips over hers. Her hands went around his waist, feeling the contours of the abs she’d been admiring, latching on to his shoulders and drawing him closer to her.
Heat burned her, and she only wanted more. She drank him up like cold water on a sweltering day. As Jack raised his head from hers, his hands stopped their roaming and found their way to her elbows.
“You do like to live dangerously,” he whispered. “I’m going to check the perimeter and give you a chance to change your mind.”
He grabbed his shirt and darted out the door before she realized her fingers were rubbing her surprised lips.
Complications. Danger. In a moment of clarity, she knew Jack was neither. He was unknown territory, but safe. Very safe.
Chapter Eleven
“I’m telling you she’s safe. Hold? Are you serious?”
Wade Hamilton couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun. Well, except for the part where Therese kept putting him on hold. The administration part was boring.
Oh, yeah, the last time was probably when the first bullet holes in his truck had been put there. Now he had a matching set to get repaired.
Racing around the countryside. Bullets flying. Tackling a lone suspect to the ground after a scuffle. He couldn’t call it a fight, since the guy never connected a punch. He opened the back door of the extended cab, then looked at the man now in his custody.
“I’m not really sure you’re clean enough for the seat, man. I mean, I just got it detailed three days ago. Paid extra for the upholstery.” He switched the phone to speaker and set it on the bed of the truck, then flipped the seats up.
It was bad enough that this guy had fallen into the mud, forcing Wade to get his boots filthy. There was no way he was letting him ruin his interior. It’d be a different story if Therese would get him a local to come pick him up.
“Man, you’re almost more trouble than you’re worth. Do you know that?”
“I know that you’re a dead man. We’re going to cut you into little pieces and feed you to the coyotes.” He spit dirt and blood onto the blacktop.
“You think somebody’s listening to you?” Wade pointed his finger, drawing a circle to frame his face. “See any bruises forming on my face? I don’t think so.”
“Wade?” Therese’s voice broke from some type of interference. “Are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m still here. You give the PD from Enchanted City my locale?”
“They aren’t coming.”
There was more to the words than just a negative reply. He cut the cocky can’t-get-me attitude, tapped the phone off speaker and put it to his ear so the suspect couldn’t hear. “What do you mean? Our agreement was—”
“I remember the details of our agreement. I help you get your partner out of one of the deadliest border gangs in America before he’s killed, and you owe me.”
“I’ve kept my bargain. I caught your damned bad guy.”
“Oh, he’s not mine, Wade. You need to decide why you arrest him—”
There was such a long pause Wade thought he’d lost the connection. Then he turned to the man he knew was Ronnie Nowland, a convicted felon, and said, “Or if I arrest him. Right?”
“You’re a sweet kid, Wade. But this is the big leagues. The conversation between us was just a conversation of what-ifs.”
“What-ifs? I don’t believe you’re going to walk away from this guy. He can get you what you want. And what about my partner? He’s risking everything to save your girl and doesn’t know why. What am I supposed to tell him? What’s he supposed to do Monday?”
Silence.
Wade pulled the phone away from his ear, and sure enough, the connection had been lost. Or Therese had simply hung up.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with you now?” He tossed the phone in the front seat and slammed the doors.
“Let me go and I won’t cut you until I have my knife back.”
“Shut up.” Wade paced the length of the truck.
The criminal sucked in air as if to speak.
“Uh-uh,” Wade warned. “Shut up or you won’t be conscious to think about it.”
Idle threat. Wade was limited about what he could do. He hated being beholden to Therese and the people she worked for...whoever they were. Yeah, the people she worked for. A complete unknown.
Wade hadn’t stopped to think about who might have been helping him last summer when Jack’s father’s campaign released the information that he was a Texas Ranger. There was one thing about being a proud papa and using the information. But Jack Sr. knew his son was unavailable for public appearances.
Wade might have let it slip on purpose that he couldn’t be pulled from the undercover assignment. He’d never told his partner that had happened. Just like he’d never told his partner how he’d sweet-talked two helicopter pilots into flying in with him in a Navy SEAL rescue move.
Jack had asked, and he’d shrugged as an answer.
“Hey, my hands are starting to cramp.”
“Do I care?” Wade continued his pacing and kicking rocks in the predawn hour.
He took a second when he heard an engine. A boat was heading out on a Sunday morning to fish. Common occurrence around Enchanted Oaks, Seven Points, Log Cabin, Gun Barrel City and all the communities around Cedar Creek Lake.
Hell, now he wasn’t certain that Enchanted Oaks had a police department. All these smaller communities might be linked to Henderson County. Maybe he could just call them?
“And say what?”
“That’s right. This is police brutality. Just wait until someone comes along and sees me lying in the middle of the road.”
Wade dug into the emergency kit in his back seat until he found the cheap duct tape. He held it in one hand and pulled the end with the other, ripping off enough to wrap around the convict. “I did warn you to be quiet.”
He wrapped it completely around the man’s head—hair and all.
But the guy was right about one thing. He couldn’t be lying in the street when the community got up for church...or fishing, which would be happening soon.
Wade glanced at his watch. He needed a decision and quick.
“How do I get myself into these messes and why do I normally need Jack to get me out of them?”
Ronnie Nowland tried to talk through the tape. Wade ignored him. He leaned across the front seat and retrieved his badge from under the passenger seat. He’d left his weapons at home. With all the shooting, he might have actually shot back.
He unlocked the built-in gun case in the side of his truck. Both he and Jack had had them installed at the same time. It was a safe way they could carry weapons. Even in a state that allowed open carry. He’d grown up where his uncle had a gun rack and carried rifles openly...everywhere.
Storing Ronnie’s weapons in the built-in gun safe, he bounced the .45 in the palm of his hand a couple of times but dropped it inside. He didn’t need to share his personal reason for getting Ronnie off the street. His reason was that he was a Texas Rang
er and saw a weapon. A parole violation was reason enough to arrest him.
Would it really matter to the higher-ups if he reacted to something he saw without calling it in? Probably. Later. He could deal with it later, too.
“I’m going to remove the tape and you’re going to answer my questions.”
Lying on his side, Ronnie made a finger gesture behind his back.
“You did that even in cuffs. Good for you. But I don’t really care. I need an answer, and you’re it.” He ripped the tape from Ronnie’s mouth and hair, ignoring his scream. “Yeah, I bet that hurt.”
He might be talking like a smart-ass, but his eyes searched the perimeter for either Ronnie’s pals or a resident. Still alone.
“My friend sent me to you. So I’m pretty sure you know who hired you to take out Megan Harper.”
“I ain’t telling you—”
“Mind your manners, Ronnie. I’m getting a little tired of being called names. Just give me the ones I want.”
“No way.” He shook his head and spit red dirt mixed with blood from his split lip. “They’ll kill me, man.”
“You don’t get it, Ronnie. No one knows we’re here, and there’s lots of things I can do at a place like this.”
“You wouldn’t. You’re a ranger. You guys don’t even pick your noses in public.”
Wade knelt next to his prisoner, laughing as crazily as he could. “That’s funny, and most of the time I’d agree. But you see, today I’m just a guy trying to prevent your friends from killing mine.” He pulled Ronnie’s ear toward the sky. “You get one more chance to tell me before that knife of yours takes off a slice.”
“You threw it in the lake.”
“Did I?”
Wade walked to the truck and removed his utility knife. All he had to do was let Ronnie think he’d kept the man’s weapon. He just had to think Wade would use it. But the parole-breaking convict/suspect/prisoner had one thing right... Texas Rangers were squeaky-clean. He was no exception under ordinary conditions.
He might play his hunches more than his partner, but they both knew when to rein in the rule-breaking.
But this ranger was also desperate. He had no idea where his partner had gone. No idea if he’d been compromised or captured. No idea why Megan Harper was so important to Therese or the men this fella was working for.