Threat of Danger (Mission Recovery Book 2)

by Dana Marton

  “You’re going to stay away from Jess Taylor.”

  Maxwell rallied. “Or what?”

  Derek let his face show how far he’d be willing to go for Jess, what he’d be willing to do for her. No limit.

  “You’re a smart man,” he told Maxwell. “You shouldn’t have to ask.”

  He walked away before he could throw a punch. He’d thought confronting Maxwell might bring up some memory, some kind of recognition, but it hadn’t, damn it all to hell. Frustration burned through Derek at the lack of progress.

  The last couple of days had been a real mixed bag.

  The bones were human: bad.

  Eliot left: good.

  Jess stayed: ??

  Derek wasn’t sure how he felt about her staying. He hated the possibility that she might be in danger, but he enjoyed seeing her every day.

  He’d thought the bone shards, and talk of a wood chipper, would spook her. But they’d had the opposite effect. She was still here. He wasn’t going anywhere either. They’d both toughened up over the years. They no longer ran from trouble as they had back then.

  He’d been an overeager college boy. He was a man now. And he knew what he wanted. He wanted Jess safe, and he wanted her back in his arms. Nothing had ever felt as right as having her there. He was going to work on making that happen again.

  First, however, he needed to make sure she was safe, so he headed back to her place. He found only Zelda, on the couch with her feet up, knitting.

  “Another prayer shawl?” Derek asked as he kicked off his boots.

  Zelda knit one shawl a week and donated them to the cancer ward at the hospital. She held up her current project. “Pink with purple. What do you think?”

  “I’m sure the person who gets it will love it. Have a batch ready to go?”

  “Soon.”

  When she had a box ready, Derek usually drove her into Burlington to drop off the shawls at the hospital. He always added a box of signed author copies of his latest book. People who went for chemo sat around for hours. Many of them liked to read. After the drop-off, he usually took Zelda around to the yarn stores, then lunch.

  She always protested, not wanting to waste his time. He always insisted that they make a proper date of it. If we’re not making Chuck jealous, we’re not doing it right, he’d say. And Zelda would giggle like a girl.

  She finished off her row, then glanced up at Derek again. “How’s the new furnace?”

  “Working like a charm. You know Brody. He does good work.”

  Back in high school, Brody O’Connor had been on the rugby team with Derek. Now he had his own HVAC business.

  Working furnace: good.

  No excuse to spend another night at the Taylor place: bad.

  “How was your walk this mornin’?” Zelda began a new row.

  “Nice. Weather’s easing up.” He’d checked a few more crows’ nests, but didn’t find anything interesting. Another layer of frustration there.

  “You need help with anything around here?” he asked, when what he wanted to ask was, Is Jess home? But he didn’t want Zelda to think there was something going on between the two of them.

  “Nope. But you can name some hot young woman after me in your new book. Make sure she’s sassy.” Zelda put her knitting down. “I was about to make some roast beef sandwiches. I made some German potato salad earlier. With dill. Stayin’ for lunch?”

  “Yes, ma’am, if I may. I might be a fool about a lot of things, but not fool enough to turn down good food.”

  She watched him for a second or two with speculation gleaming in her eyes. “Smart enough to know and grab a good thing when you see it?”

  “I’d like to think so.”

  “Well, that gives an old woman hope.” She nodded with approval as she got up, and he had the distinct feeling that they were no longer talking about roast beef.

  He was sitting at the kitchen table, ready for that lunch, when the front door opened and let in a cold blast of air. Kaylee popped in. “Hey, everybody! Fun has arrived. Brace yourselves!”

  She jumped out of her boots, and peeled off her long coat, revealing blue jeans and a white hoodie underneath. The hoodie had the high school logo printed on the chest, a red hawk against the background of a green maple leaf. Derek had at least two of them somewhere at home. Man, it was still hard to believe sometimes that Kaylee was in high school now. A senior. Where the hell did time go?

  “Why aren’t you in school?” Derek asked as the girl joined them in the kitchen.

  “Chill, bro. No school. Teachers’ conference. Are we having lunch?” She grabbed three plates from the cupboard and set the table as if she was at home, which Derek supposed she was. She spent as much time here as she did at Chuck’s place.

  “Were you looking for me?” Derek got glasses. “In need of some boy advice?”

  “Sure, Gramps. Like what? How to ask a nice young man to a square dance?” Kaylee’s tone dripped with teenage sarcasm, her eyes glinting with teasing humor.

  Zelda chuckled at the fridge.

  “Hey.” Derek reached to grab the loose hoodie, but Kaylee danced away from him. “I know shit,” he said. “I might be a thriller writer, but I know all about romance.”

  “That’s pretty obvious from your love life,” the kid sassed back. “Oh, wait. You don’t have one.” She shrugged. “Anyway. Who’d want a boy? God, they’re lame at this age.”

  “Anyone giving you trouble? Want me to come to school and kick some teenage-boy ass?” he offered. “Tell the bozos you’re under Navy SEAL protection.”

  “I’m pretty sure when an adult beats up a kid, the police call that child abuse.”

  “Never mind.” He held up his hands. “I should probably offer the boys protection from you.”

  “Wouldn’t work. You taught me all your moves.” She grinned as she executed half a dozen karate chops in the air.

  Zelda shook her head as she brought the bowl of potato salad to the table. “Need one more plate. Jess’s upstairs.”

  Kaylee immediately brightened and turned to run for the stairs.

  Derek grabbed after her hoodie again, and succeeded catching her this time. He held her in place. “I’ll get Jess. You find another plate.”

  “How many mystery writers does it take to change a light bulb?” Kaylee called after him as he walked away, but she didn’t wait for him to answer. “Two. One screws the bulb almost all the way in; then the other one gives it a surprise twist.”

  “You’re still not funny.”

  “Funnier than you, old man.”

  As Derek headed upstairs, Kaylee turned her attention to Zelda without a pause. “Have you thought some more about selling the potato salad recipe? I could talk to the diner on your behalf. For a small commission.”

  Once Derek reached the top, he could hear drawers opening and closing in Rose’s room, so he went that way. He stopped in the doorway.

  Jess had her back to him, earbuds in her ears. She wore jeans that showed off long and lean legs, and a T-shirt that didn’t cover her toned arms. She moved like a fighter, compact and controlled, even when doing something as domestic as packing up clothes. Lust hit Derek, hot and sharp.

  Until she’d shown up, he hadn’t realized how lonely he’d been. His relationships were few and far between. He’d been deployed nearly the whole time he’d been in the navy. The SEALs were an all-male branch. Then six months of captivity, then the VA hospital. None of it was conducive to romance. Sure, at the hospital, there were at least nurses. But he couldn’t exactly skip after them with his leg up in traction.

  After he’d come home and written his first thriller, he became, if not a celebrity, then at least of interest to the local media, and even to some national ones. His publisher had done a huge multimedia PR push for his book. People began to recognize his face, even in Burlington. That did bring around a number of women, but he soon found that most just wanted to post pictures of themselves with him on Facebook and Instagram. He
got tired of all that fast. None of those women had ever mattered.

  Jess did.

  She didn’t go with Eliot.

  Deep inside his chest, hope popped up its stubborn-as-shit head. Or maybe he was stupid as shit. She had everything in LA that she’d ever wanted. Why would she give up all that for him?

  Derek cleared his throat and raised his voice so he’d be heard over the music. “Lunch?”

  She yanked out the earbuds as she turned. Her expression betrayed nothing about whether or not she was happy to see him. “Hi. In a minute.”

  He stepped into the room. “I can help.”

  Kaylee laughed at something downstairs.

  Jess’s ears perked up. “Why isn’t she in school? Is she sick?”

  “No school today. Hey, more free labor.”

  Jess flashed him a don’t-kid-yourself look. “Nothing’s free with that girl. She used to hustle me when I babysat her. Chuck would give me an extra fiver if I picked up the house. Kaylee offered not to make a mess if I kicked back two-fifty.”

  Derek grinned. “She makes images for me to post on social media with my daily updates to readers. She does have an entrepreneurial spirit.”

  “How come you’re such good friends?” Jess closed the bottom drawer before she straightened. “Does she have a crush on you?”

  “Definitely too smart for that. I’m like her big brother.”

  But the thought that Jess still considered him crush-worthy was gratifying.

  “English is the bane of her life,” he told Jess. “She comes over sometimes, and I help her with homework essays. I could trade some tutoring later for room-moving now. Want me to call her up?”

  “It’s not that big of a job.”

  “If we don’t help you, Zelda will insist on helping. She won’t just watch you drag stuff down the stairs by yourself. You want her negotiating that king-size mattress down the stairs with her bad knees?”

  A sudden grin cracked across Jess’s face.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Too bad the mattress isn’t a twin,” she said. “We could ride it down. Remember?”

  Man, did he ever. But more than the memory, he appreciated the present moment: Jess relaxed with him, that anger she’d brought home with her gone for the first time, Jess bringing up a good memory instead of a bad one. Something had happened. She had turned a corner.

  Suddenly it was like old times for a moment, as if they were still good friends.

  “I’m not likely to forget the tanning I got for putting your life in danger,” he said. “I couldn’t sit the next day.”

  Back in middle school, Derek and Jess had ridden her mattress down the stairs. Before that, back in elementary school, they’d ridden down in one of Rose’s plastic laundry baskets. Their parents hadn’t been impressed with either attempt at adventure.

  Both times, Jess had talked him into the stunt. Both times, Derek’s father had beaten the tar out of him. The elder Daley had still been drinking back then and had a much shorter fuse than these days.

  Jess grew serious. “I’m sorry I got you into trouble.”

  Derek couldn’t help but smile at the memories. “Definitely worth it.” He cast a pointed glance at the blanket chest at the foot of Rose Taylor’s bed. “Want to try again?”

  Jess’s grin returned, but she shook her head. “I’d like to think I’ve matured.”

  “Right. Because now you live a completely sedate life. Jumping out of speeding cars. Climbing skyscrapers.”

  “I still like doing stair falls for stunts. They’re pretty easy once you have the technique down right.” A second later her eyes lit up again. “Remember when I climbed the water tower?”

  “Did we have fire companies from three towns?” He was rather fond of that memory. “It was like a field day. All we were missing was the cotton candy.”

  “While the firemen were arguing about how best to get me, you climbed after me.”

  Oh, he remembered that part too. And the ass-kicking he’d gotten from his father afterward. Again, totally worth it.

  He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb. “Why did you climb?”

  Her cheeks pinked. She pushed another drawer back in place.

  “Jess?”

  She abandoned the dresser and dropped onto the bed. She winced as she looked at him. “I overheard you and Brody and Jared talking about the tower, egging each other on. I thought if I climbed up, kind of proved myself, you’d take me into the club.”

  He ran his fingers through his still-military-length hair. He was never going to forget the image of her so high up she looked like a small doll, clinging to the top rung, tears rolling down her face, too scared to move up to the platform, too scared to come back down.

  “You did that to impress us? Jesus.” Then he told her the sad truth. “You could never have been in the club. Boys only. Sorry.”

  She scoffed. “How is that for a stupid rule?”

  She reached for a bathrobe to fold, her soft cotton shirt molding to her incredible breasts. Predictably, Derek’s body responded.

  “Pretty stupid,” he agreed. “We didn’t know what we were missing. I still can’t believe you climbed that high. We were all too chicken.”

  She stilled, only her eyebrows moving, higher and higher. “You were?”

  “Brody made that shit up to give Jared a hard time. None of us ever had the balls.”

  Until Jess was up there, stuck. Then Derek had gone after her. He would have done anything for Jess.

  Air left her lungs in a huff; then her smile snapped back into place, stretching from ear to ear. “Hey, I was a total badass.”

  “I seem to remember the expression tossed around was out of control.”

  “They were right.” She set the folded robe aside and picked up a long, flannel nightgown. “I was establishing a pitiful pattern.”

  “What pattern?”

  “Trying to get your attention,” she said without looking at him. Her cheeks pinked again. “I was desperately in love with you back then.”

  Derek thought he’d never heard of a sadder word than that was. He hated it.

  He stepped farther into the room. “Jess . . . I’m sorry I left. After . . .”

  She busied herself with shaking out and refolding more clothes, sorting them into two piles. “Even if you hadn’t left, I couldn’t have stayed here.”

  “I should have gotten in touch over the years.”

  She finally looked at him. “I’m not sure I would have responded.”

  She abandoned folding at last, stood up but stayed where she was, out of reach, shoving her hands into her back pockets. “I wanted to forget everything and everyone associated with my past. I needed to remake myself into someone else, somebody who wasn’t a victim.”

  “Into a kick-ass action-movie heroine?” He tried not to stare at the breasts that her posture pushed out and lifted even more.

  “Maybe.”

  “You were never a victim, Jess. You survived and you thrived. You were always the heroine of the story.”

  “And you were the hero?”

  “No. Our story didn’t have a hero.” But, God, Derek wished he could have been one, that he could have fought off the bastard right at the beginning, before Jess had gotten hurt.

  She watched him with a torn expression.

  Common sense said to walk away. She’d worked hard to make a life for herself in LA that worked for her.

  Screw common sense. He stepped forward and reached around her, looped his fingers around her slim wrists, and tugged her hands from her pockets. Then he took those hands and drew her closer to him.

  “Derek . . .”

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d ever come back.”

  “I’m only back temporarily.”

  “Is that how you left things with Eliot?” That she’d be going after him soon? His mouth tightened at the thought.

  “He had to go. He had meetings scheduled with directors. And new equipment comin
g in that he has to test and make decisions on before the next shoot.”

  When she talked about Eliot, she talked about the business. That gave Derek hope. Sounded like they’d parted as friends and colleagues, not as lovers who couldn’t wait to reunite.

  Two and a half weeks left, at the most. He knew her shooting schedule from talking with Zelda. About eighteen days more before Jess had to report to the set. So why in hell was he wasting time?

  He dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers. He’d gotten lost once in the Iraqi desert for three days. He hadn’t been as thirsty for water back then as he was now for a taste of Jess.

  When she didn’t protest, he pulled her fully into his arms and kissed her.

  The point of no return. He needed to find out if things could still work between them. He wanted her, and he could no longer pretend that he didn’t.

  Her body was firm, but her lips were soft and silky, as sweet as Zelda’s prizewinning angel food cake. As sweet as the old Jess. Except this new Jess, she was a woman. She had the power to bring Derek to his knees.

  He’d told her that he would give her whatever she needed from him. He hoped she’d figure out that he was what she needed. He was going to have to help her reach that conclusion.

  He breathed her in. She smelled like redemption. Like maybe he could have a do-over and get it right this time.

  She stood still in the circle of his arms. Undecided. Wary.

  Better than a sharp knee in the balls, but Derek wanted more. He nibbled her lips and licked the seam, tasting her.

  She tasted like a whole new world opening up. She tasted like the blank page of a book before he’d written the first word, the possibilities limitless.

  Was the story of his life written on her heart? Was the story of her life written on his?

  Too early to tell. But he wanted to find out. Letter by letter, word by word, sentence by sentence. If only she’d let him.

  She did let him in, let him deepen the kiss. Progress, but this was just the opening of her lips, not the opening of her heart. Still, Derek wouldn’t have been a good SEAL if he didn’t grab every advantage, no matter how small. And, really, the kiss could not be called small by any measure.