All or Nothing: A Trust No One Novel

by Dixie Lee Brown

  “I’m from Florida, actually. I’m staying in Kalispell for a while. I came to Bozeman today to see my niece and nephew. They’re here somewhere.” He glanced around but must have come up empty.

  “A snowbird?”

  “I know. Crazy, huh? My sister’s always bugging me to come visit her. I had a little extra time on my hands, so here I am. I’m an artist. I thought I might find some inspiration in the great state of Montana. I hear Flathead Lake and those mountains on a crisp, icy morning are spectacular. I’ll probably head home to Florida long before it gets cold, though.”

  It was her turn to order. After she paid, the vendor handed her a ticket and instructed her to pick up her order on the back side of the kiosk. She hesitated. Would Joe be able to see her if she went around the stand? On the other hand, if she didn’t pick up the food when it was ready, they’d give it to someone else and she’d go to the end of the line again. By now, the man behind her had finished his order, and they walked around back together.

  “Thanks for keeping me company. My name is Sam. I thought I was coming to the fair with my niece and nephew. Didn’t know I’d be wandering around here on my own.”

  “I’m Cara.” She shook the hand he offered.

  “Are you here by yourself?”

  “No, I came with a… friend.”

  “You were going to say date, weren’t you? Darn, just my luck.”

  She opened her mouth to deny it and then hesitated. It wouldn’t hurt if Sam thought Joe was her date. He seemed harmless enough, but he was still a stranger.

  “Hey, there’s my niece over by the ice cream trailer. Would you like to meet her? Looks like our orders will be a little bit yet.”

  “I’d love to, but I better stay here so my friend can find me.” Cara glanced around for Joe.

  “We’ll just be a minute.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her along with him.

  “Sam, let go.” Sudden fear jolted her heart into a staccato rhythm.

  He ignored her and it seemed like his grip tightened.

  Cara grasped his wrist and squeezed, as Joe had taught her, until the man let go of her. A startled look appeared on his face. For an anxious moment, Cara thought he’d grab her again, but he stared over her head for a second and then backed off.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He swung around and hurried away.

  She turned. Joe was coming toward her with a scowl on his face. She backtracked to the kiosk.

  “I told you to stay where I could see you.”

  “This is where they told me to pick up the order.” She was still distracted by Sam’s behavior.

  Joe glanced in the direction she was looking and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  If she told him about Sam, he’d overreact and probably drag them all out of there. Rayna would be disappointed. Cara didn’t want to be the cause of that look on her face. Besides, Sam was just a lonely man who enjoyed talking to people. “Nothing’s wrong.” The young man behind the counter called her number and she stepped up to get their food.

  Joe led the way to an empty picnic table. He still watched her as they ate. “There’s a reason I ask you to do certain things. It’s for your own good.”

  “You’re right. I should have waited for you. I should have stayed where you told me. I get it. I’m sorry. Now, can we talk about something else?”

  “All right. You pick a topic.”

  “What do you like to do at the fair?”

  He laughed self-consciously and looked toward the midway.

  “Carnival games?”

  He shrugged. “It’s my competitive nature.”

  “Can you win me something?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “You sound pretty confident.”

  “When I was younger, I worked as a carny for six months. That’s why I don’t do rides.”

  “You prefer a more violent death?”

  “I prefer one I can anticipate.”

  She finished the last of her corn dog and downed what was left of her beer. “Okay, show me what ya got.”

  She picked a large, stuffed German shepherd that she named Dillon. The guys working the booth laughed at her for naming it when they figured the chances of her taking it home were slim. Joe winked and smiled.

  The game involved knocking over three milk jug-shaped objects stacked in a pyramid. He explained they were heavily weighted at the bottom. It was fairly easy to knock the top one off, but nearly impossible to topple the bottom two… unless you knew right where to aim, which, apparently, he was sure he did. Once three pyramids hit the ground, they’d win a small prize. After three more targets fell, that prize would be traded for the next size prize, and so on. That meant Joe had to knock nine pyramids over.

  He paid for nine balls. No lack of confidence there. He wound up and slammed the first ball into the base of the two bottom jugs. Wooden objects flew everywhere. Cara cheered and whistled, attracting the attention of other fairgoers. The two carnies behind the counter exchanged glances. Eight more balls and Dillon was hers. Other competitors lined up to try their luck. The guys behind the counter glared at Joe as they walked away.

  “I thought those poor workers were going to have a stroke.” Cara bit her lip to still her laughter. “Can we do it again?”

  “Let’s find one you can play too.” His hand on her back guided her toward a long booth with squirt guns and clown faces.

  According to him, all she had to do was squirt water into the open mouth of the clown until a balloon mounted on the top inflated and blew up. It sounded easy enough, but it was harder than it looked—mostly because she laughed so hard it was impossible to keep the stream of water going where it was supposed to. Joe won the first three games, taunting her after each and then handing her the prize he’d earned. He probably would have won the fourth too, but halfway through she turned her squirt gun around and doused him. He spun and aimed at her. She jumped and ran. They were both laughing.

  He caught her around the waist from behind and pulled her against his wet shirt. “That wasn’t very nice.”

  “You were cheating.” She still laughed.

  “I don’t cheat!”

  She turned to face him. Humor sparkled in his golden-brown eyes. His carefree expression stopped her in her tracks, and her breath caught in her throat as she held his gaze. Tentatively, she stretched up on her toes and gently brushed a kiss across his lips. His surprise turned to amusement as his arms tightened around her.

  “Might have known you’d make your move here, where I can’t do anything about it.” His whispered words tickled her ear.

  Oh crap! Why did she do that? Heat crept up her neck and spread across her face. What happened to not getting involved? Now everything would be awkward between them. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

  “The hell you shouldn’t have. You can’t take it back now.” He kissed her gently, drawing her even closer, until she relaxed and leaned into him.

  His cell phone rang. He hesitated a moment but finally answered. When he released her, she took a few steps away. She’d done it now. It was bound to be a huge mistake but, man, that kiss just might be worth it, and he smelled so good—like spice and mint. His arms felt warm and strong around her.

  “Ty and Rayna are in the beer garden. Would you like to join them?” Joe came up behind her.

  “I’d like that.”

  “Cara, I didn’t mean what I said. You can take it back if you’re not ready. I just want you to have fun today.”

  She looked into his concerned eyes, surprised how easy the decision came. “I’m not taking it back.”

  A crooked smile worked its way across his features.

  As they approached the beer garden, Rayna jumped up and waved. She looked radiant and bubbled over with excited chatter. One look at her face and Cara knew the decision to come had been the right one. Joe was the designated driver… or, in this case, the designated flyer, so he drank Coke while the rest of them downed beer.
They ate more fair food and talked until the sun set. Tyler told stories about Joe, Joe had stories about Rayna, and Rayna talked about Charlie. They laughed and sometimes cried together. Joe’s thigh pressed against Cara’s as they sat together on one side of the picnic table. The simple contact warmed her, and she felt safe and content. Every now and then his arm went around her waist, sending a pleasant shiver up her spine. Each time he looked at her, his eyes searched hers, and he smiled and winked.

  Savoring the lighthearted camaraderie of the group and the growing attraction to Joe—none of which she’d ever experienced before—this was easily the best day she’d ever had.

  Chapter Seventeen

  * * *

  Tuesday, 9:23 pm

  THE FLIGHT HOME always seemed longer for some reason, but this time Joe didn’t mind. Cara sat in the front seat beside him, a sparkle in her blue eyes and a carefree smile on her face. She looked happy, and he’d never seen her so beautiful. Rayna had gotten them all involved in a silly is-it-bigger-than-a-bread-box game, and Cara laughed until she cried. Joe wanted this to be her life—instead of the exception.

  When they landed, Sanchez picked them up at the hangar and drove them to the house. Cara didn’t object when Joe reached for her hand and walked beside her, along with the new, stuffed version of Dillon, to her room.

  “Are you glad you went?” he asked.

  “I can’t remember when I’ve had such a nice day. Thank you.”

  “We all needed a change of scenery.”

  She looked up and down the corridor, then opened her door and pulled him into her room. Moonlight shone through the balcony windows and across the floor, stopping short of the shadows where he and Cara stood. She fumbled for the light switch on the wall, but he captured her hand and turned her around. Then he stepped close and wrapped her in his arms.

  “Finally, I’ve got you all to myself. I’ve been thinking about this all the way home.”

  “Have you? No wonder you were so bad at that game.” A mischievous smile parted her lips as her hands slid behind his neck, pulling his head down until his lips met hers.

  All day he’d been fighting the possessiveness she’d awakened in him, but he wasn’t fighting it now. He pressed her back against the door and kissed her gently. His tongue flicked in and out of her mouth, teasing, savoring the taste of her.

  His hands on either side of her braced against the door, purposely leaving her plenty of breathing room. He would take it slow—give her time to get used to him… kissing her… touching her. Let her set the pace she was comfortable with. She’d been through hell, and the last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid of him.

  The sweetness of her lips, the soft scent of jasmine that surrounded her, and the way she eagerly answered his kisses made his groin tighten. If he continued down this road for long, she could easily make him forget all his noble intentions.

  Would that be so wrong? Already the lines were beginning to blur.

  A groan escaped him. Damn it! It would be a mistake. She’d been scarred, inside and out, by that bastard Dennelli. Joe wouldn’t take the chance she’d back away and never let him close again. He held his breath and concentrated on keeping his body’s reaction under control. It was a few seconds before he realized she had tensed against the door, her arms rigid, her hands pushing hard against his chest. He raised his head and scanned her face. Eyes wide with panic, she stared back at him.

  “What the hell?” He released her and stepped away. He hadn’t rushed her—didn’t come on too strong. What went wrong?

  She slid to the floor and buried her head in her hands. Joe knelt beside her, wanting to touch her, comfort her, but he knew better. Something he’d done triggered her panic attack. Since he didn’t know what, he could easily do it again.

  “I didn’t think I was that bad a kisser.” His soft words teased, hoping to bring her back to him, but she was crying. Her shoulders shook with each labored breath. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to take her in his arms and lend her his strength to fight whatever battle raged within.

  After a few minutes’ silence, she lifted her head. Tear tracks streaked her cheeks. Without thinking, he reached out to wipe them away. She flinched, and he froze.

  “Please go… I… I can’t do this.”

  He sat down beside her, his back to the door. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what I did wrong.”

  “Not you.”

  “What then?”

  “I can’t…”

  “It’s Dennelli again, isn’t it? He can’t hurt you anymore, Cara. I won’t let him.”

  “Even if that’s true, the damage has already been done. David gets off on controlling things… people.” She paused, sat up straighter, and squared her shoulders. “I was his favorite subject, and nothing was sacred to him—especially the bedroom.” Her gaze dropped. “I guess I felt a little trapped between you and the door and lost control for a minute. Sooner or later, I have to stop blaming David.” She tried to laugh, but it sounded forced and she soon gave it up.

  “What did he do to you?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  Anger and nausea churned in his stomach. “We need to get this out in the open so it can’t sneak up on you again. He forced himself on you, didn’t he?”

  She tried to bury her face in her hands again, but Joe caught them. He moved around in front of her and tipped her chin so he could see her eyes.

  “That’s the nice way of saying it.” She spoke so softly Joe had to strain to hear. “Try days at a time, handcuffed to a bed in an eight-by-ten room, knowing the only person coming through that door wasn’t there to help you.”

  Emotions rolled across her face—shame, devastation, anger. Joe forced himself to put aside the fury, blacker than the pit of hell that welled up in him. He ached to wipe away the shame that colored her face. She didn’t do anything wrong, yet she bore the guilt.

  He reached to pull her close. “It’s over. He won’t hurt you ever again.”

  Abruptly, she pushed him away and jumped to her feet. He stood beside her.

  “He was my husband. He had the right. Isn’t that what men think?” Her voice was cold, and her eyes flashed with anger. The words cut him like a knife.

  “That’s not fair. He sure as hell didn’t have the right, and I’d tear the man apart who tried to tell you that. Dennelli is a perverted bastard. He’s not worth the time you spend thinking about him, much less being afraid of him. Don’t write us all off because of that scum. If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll make you forget him.” His last words were barely above a whisper. He was so furious, he wanted to hit something. Better yet, he wanted to tear out Dennelli’s heart… but he had to control his rage. In her present state of mind, he might only add to her fears.

  She sobbed and would have fled out the door if Joe hadn’t caught her. Maybe it was a mistake, but he couldn’t let her go. Not scared. Not alone. He pulled her into his arms. She fought him for a brief moment, but then she sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest.

  “I’m sorry, Joe. I thought I could forget, but…”

  “No one is going to hurt you. We’ll get through this.” He kissed her tenderly on the forehead and held her like that for a long time. It was no longer just a promise to a friend. Neither was it because he felt sorry for her. Somewhere along the way, he’d put aside good judgment and fallen in love. She was his now, and no one was going to treat her like a sex slave… and live.

  “Come on. You need to get some sleep.”

  She was tired and emotionally drained, but there was fire in her eyes again and he hoped that meant she’d be all right. He flipped on a lamp for her, squeezed her hand reassuringly, and turned to leave. A knock sounded just as his hand touched the knob.

  Ty stood at the door, a frown on his face. “Dennelli sent over a dossier on you. It’s for Cara.”

  Joe accepted the thick manila envelope, closed the door, and turned.
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br />   She stared at him, another wave of fear in her eyes.

  “Your former husband apparently doesn’t want me to have any secrets.” He held the envelope out to her. “After you read this, you probably won’t want anything to do with me, but I’m holding you to your promise not to leave without talking to me first.” The dread in her eyes pierced him as he turned toward the balcony doors.

  “What’s in here, Joe?”

  He didn’t reply. She’d know soon enough.

  Chapter Eighteen

  * * *

  Tuesday, 11:06 pm

  CARA SET THE envelope on the bed and watched as though it were a snake coiled to strike. She flipped it over. David’s handwriting sprawled across the front. Cara—thought you’d want to know who you’ve hooked up with.

  Hesitant to handle anything David had touched, she almost chucked the whole thing in the garbage, but in the end, she had to know what was in that envelope. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she opened the clasp.

  An hour later, she finished the last report. Every black ops project Joe had been involved in, every kidnapped victim rescued, every regime change, every deployment behind enemy lines to bring out defectors at all cost, was detailed with precision on the pages in front of her. Some were hard to read and left stark images in her mind.

  Joe was a mercenary. He made no secret of it. These were the things men like him were hired to do. Still, it was hard to reconcile the man in these reports with the one who dropped into her life a few days ago to keep her alive—or the man who took a day off to win her a stuffed toy at the fair.

  Like a chameleon, he changed his colors to suit his environment. Everyone did that to a certain extent. Did this new information change anything? Would she still trust him? The answer came easier than expected. She would.

  Joe, though, was obviously worried it would make a difference. She had to talk to him. Cara gathered up all the papers and stuffed them back in the envelope. Crossing the balcony to his door, she knocked softly. When he didn’t answer, she opened the door and peered in. The room was empty.