“No! That’ll just make him madder. I just gotta get away.” Her voice hitched as she wiped at her eyes. “I’m so tired…so fuckin’ tired of livin’ this way.”
He knelt so that he was next to Scarlett, whose tongue was lolling to one side. He stroked her head and murmured, “Good girl.”
After a moment, Gail shifted out of the bushes, standing but keeping her distance. “How do I know who sent you?”
He swung his light to the badge on his belt, identifying him as a National Search and Rescue Dog Association tracker. “Betsy told me to tell you that ‘the sand is warm but watch out for jellyfish’. She knew that would let you know that she was the one I talked to.”
A slight snicker slipped from her mouth, and he observed as her hand jumped to her split lip. Anger flooded him at the thought of the young woman running scared for her life due to her jack-ass boyfriend…hopefully ex-boyfriend.
“Me and Betsy went to the beach when we were teenagers. Loved it so much, we used to say there was nothin’ in the world better than warm sand. Then, on the last day, we were out in the water and we both got stung by jellyfish. Not them big ones like you see on TV. Just little ones, but they hurt so bad. Lord, I haven’t thought about that in a long time.” Sighing, she said, “I haven’t thought of much except trying to survive.”
“You know, you don’t have to live like this,” he said. “I happen to know of a shelter that will take you in. It’s safe and I’ve met one of the workers. They’ll take care of you until you figured out what to do.”
Shaking her head, Gail whispered, “I never thought I’d be like this. My parents didn’t raise me to be anyone’s punching bag.”
“Then, all you gotta do is let me take you to safety.” He watched her eyes drop to Scarlett, her face softening as she gazed at the dog. She slowly nodded and they began to walk back, the light from his flashlight illuminating the pathway.
Once at the campground, after she assured Betsy that she was all right while he reported to the deputy, he led her to his truck. Scarlett sat in the middle and he drove to the shelter. As he pulled up to the house, he hated that they had not moved into the new building yet. The best he could do was to regularly check on the security of this place until they moved in a week.
It was now four o’clock in the morning and he wondered how to let someone know they were there. “Stay here,” he said, climbing out of the truck. As he moved to the front door, he noticed a button with a small sign next to it, declaring After Hours. Giving it a press, he waited for a few minutes until he heard someone undoing the lock.
The door opened slightly and he spied Agatha, her eyes going wide as she took him in. “What…what are you doing here?”
“You live here?”
Her face scrunched as she asked, “You came in the middle of the night to ask that?”
“No, no. I was just surprised, that’s all. I’ve got a woman…just tracked her for the police. She needs a place to go.”
“What happened?” she said, her gaze trying to see beyond him.
“She was running from her abusive boyfriend and got lost in the woods.”
Swinging the door open wide, she rushed, “Bring her. Bring her in.”
For a second, he stood rooted to the floor. Her sleep tousled hair fell about her shoulders. Wearing blue, polka dot, flannel pajamas, with a pink, fuzzy robe tied about her waist and blue slippers on her feet, she looked utterly adorable. Turning quickly, he stalked to his truck and escorted Gail to the front door, entering behind her, hearing their introduction.
“I’m Gail. He said I could stay here…at least for tonight until I can figure something out.”
“Of course. I’m Agatha. Agatha Christel. Come on into the kitchen and I’ll fix you some tea.”
As the two women walked down the narrow hall, he stood just inside the door, his heart in his throat. Agatha Christel. Fuck, what a name.
Once Gail was safely in the kitchen, Agatha turned in the doorway to head back to Nathan looking over her shoulder and smiling at the woman reassuringly before rushing out. She found him in the foyer, hands in his pockets, head bent in thought.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t even thank you.” He looked up and his intense stare unnerved her, causing her to drop her chin, allowing some of her hair to fall forward, partially hiding her face. “Well, I’ll take care of her now.”
“Sure,” he mumbled. He watched her as she approached slowly, trying to usher him out without being rude…or touching him…but before she moved too far, he blurted, “Would you like to go out sometime? Coffee…dinner?”
Her eyes widened and her mouth opened and closed several times, but no words came. She stood rooted to the floor, her breath caught in her throat.
“Breathe,” he whispered, a small smirk playing about his lips.
Her breath rushed out and her chest heaved. “I’m sorry…I wish…but, uh…I don’t think so.”
His smile faltered a little, a flash of sadness, before he fixed it. “I respect that, but I hope we have a chance to see each other again. I’d like to get to know you better.”
“Me too,” she whispered before she could stop herself, her face heating with a blush. “Uh…maybe…sometime…” she babbled, backpedaling, before seeing him out and closing the door.
Nathan left the house, listening to be sure Agatha locked the door behind him. As he climbed into his truck, he sat for a few minutes on the street, her face filling his mind. Blonde hair, a straight nose, a slightly crooked front tooth. Amber eyes. Rubbing his face, he chuckled. Jesus, the guys were right, I really am obsessed.
Driving, he grinned, looking forward to the next time he would see the her again, glad to be interested in a real woman and not just a memory.
Lying in bed, Agatha closed her eyes tightly, her heart pounding. Why did I say ‘maybe’? This is too dangerous. But, I so want a chance at something normal…something with him… Opening her eyes, she stared at the stars, sucking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, a spark of hope igniting deep inside.
8
“Charlie, can you do a favor for me?”
The dark-haired beauty looked up and smiled. “Sure, Nathan, whatcha need?”
“Can you check on someone? Agatha Christel.”
Her brow scrunched as she asked, “The woman from the women’s center? The one who was checking into us when you were installing the new security?”
“Yeah.” Seeing the doubt in her eyes, he said, “Look, I know this sounds ludicrous, but I swear, she seems familiar, but I just can’t place where I’ve seen her.”
Shrugging, she replied, “Okay, let’s see what we have.” Within a moment, she had the information and began to read off, “Agatha Christel. Parents were Dina and Jonathan Christel. Both deceased. Born and raised in Wilmington, North Carolina. She attended college for one year but dropped out and worked in retail for several years. Relocated here four years ago. Got the job at the women’s center about a year ago.” Smiling up at him, she said, “You want her birthday and social security number?”
“No, no, but thanks for checking.” Sighing, he shook his head. “I was sure that I had seen her somewhere before, but none of that sounds familiar.” With an embarrassed grin, he walked away.
Agatha bent over a box, taping it securely as Gail walked in to pick it up.
“Some men are here to help,” Gail announced as she walked out with the box in her arms. “I think Ann is talking to them now.”
She knew that Ann had been hoping to get volunteers to help so they would save on the cost of movers, but as she looked around at the furniture and boxes, she puffed her cheeks and blew out a deep breath. How on earth will we get all this moved?
“Nice to see you again, Agatha.”
A familiar male voice coming from the door had her jerking around and staring dumbly at Nathan.
“Hi…uh…what are you doing here?”
“Seems like my boss’ wife and your boss decided that the center could
use the assistance of some muscle to get furniture moved today.”
She stared for a few seconds more at the affable grin on his face. Unable to keep the smile from her own, she agreed, “I couldn’t say it better myself. I was just wondering how we were going to manage.”
He moved closer and said, “How about I take that?” He nodded toward the largest box and hefted it in his hands.
She picked up a smaller one and moved down the hall, walking out of the front door. The street was filled with trucks and SUVs and the man-candy standing nearby caused her feet to stumble. “Shit,” she whispered, as she steadied herself. There were so many large men, she could not count them without being obvious. She recognized Cam, Jude, and Patrick from the other day, but the others were all strangers. Gorgeous, handsome, big, muscular strangers.
One of the men, with dark hair and a dark beard, walked forward, a smile on his face. “Ms. Christel, I’m Jack Bryant. Me and my men are here to help today, in any way we can.”
Moving forward, she halted suddenly as one of the men turned, smiled and took the box from her hands. Fuck! Nick! The man Bayley was with two years ago. Heart pounding in her chest, she mumbled her thanks, turning quickly only to slam into Nathan.
“Whoa, there,” Nathan said, his sharp gaze instantly noticing Agatha’s unease as she scurried off. He remembered Patrick’s assessment of her being skittish—and why that might be. Looking around, he inwardly cursed, realizing that all of the Saints could appear intimidating to a woman who had possibly been abused. He handed the large box he was carrying off to one of the others before following her.
Once inside, he approached cautiously, saying, “I know the crowd can be overwhelming. If you want, you can stay inside and we’ll handle the moving.”
Plastering a calm façade on her face, her voice steady and void of intonation, she said, “Oh, it’s fine. I was just startled, that’s all.”
He eyed her critically, but her demeanor appeared so composed, all he could do was nod. “Then lead the way and show me what to move.”
A grin slipped out as she lifted her eyes to him. “Well, first things first…I guess this table can go.”
Four hours later, the last of the boxes were placed in their appropriate rooms in the new facility and Agatha watched as Ann bustled around, making sure the women and children were settled before walking over to Jack and thanking him profusely. Nathan hung back with her and, together, they watched as the Saints waved goodbye, heading to their vehicles. As nice as they all had been, she felt as though she could breathe easier once they left. Glancing up toward Nathan though, she realized she felt at ease with him.
“Thank you for coming today—”
“Will you reconsider going out with me?” he asked. “Just to dinner? Anywhere you would be comfortable.”
Sucking in her lips, she considered her response. Peering into his eyes, seeing such sincerity there, she could not help herself. It might be stupid and reckless, given that at any moment he could recognize her, but she did not want to turn him down. Not him. Nodding slowly, she let herself have this one moment, even if it was only for a night. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
His smile widened and he asked, “When?”
Pondering, she said, “Well, I’ve got to be here tonight to help with everything, but I have tomorrow evening off.”
Turning more fully towards her, he placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. “Thank you. I’m honored.”
“Honored?” she breathed. She could not remember the last time anyone told her they were honored to be with her. Yes, I can. It was Harlan. Smiling as she watched him walk toward his truck, she startled when Ann came up beside her.
“He seems very nice. Did I hear him ask you out?”
“Yes, but...”
“No buts. It’s about time you had some fun,” Ann declared, swinging her arm around her shoulders and guiding her inside.
Agatha tried to keep her eyes off Nathan as they sat in his truck, driving toward the restaurant. Shifting her gaze, using her peripheral vision, she noted his strong jaw covered with a neatly trimmed beard. His hair, slightly longer on top, gave evidence to the natural curl, with one lock falling down on his forehead. He would push his fingers through his hair to get it back, giving the whole thing a slightly messy look, but the curl was not to be tamed. Her fingers longed to touch the silkiness, but she kept them clenched together in her lap.
A date. What would he think if he knew this was her first date? Oh, not the first time she had been with a man, but the first non-chaperoned date. Almost rolling her eyes before she caught herself, she thought about the old ways her parents had raised her. Learn to be a lady. Learn the family business. Get married to a man of their choosing and make more Russian babies…preferably boys.
Her brothers had accompanied her on the few official dates she’d had, keeping the men at a respectable distance. Well, except for Antoine. She inwardly grimaced at the awkward, fumbling sex she had in the closet of his parents’ house while a large party was taking place on the premises. She had agreed to the impromptu liaison, desperate to find out what all the fuss about sex was. Losing her virginity had been less than spectacular, to say the least, making it easy to keep men at bay afterwards. Her parents thought she was a modest young woman, not realizing she considered herself a prude with no desire for sex.
Casting her gaze sideways again, she wondered if sex with Nathan would be different…more like the romance novels she reads. His shoulders were broad, his muscular biceps showcased in the short sleeve shirt he wore. His dark jeans stretched across thick thighs and as she glanced at the hands holding the steering wheel she became entranced with his fingers. Long, tanned, strong. Sighing, she squirmed slightly at the unfamiliar ache between her legs.
Noticing Agatha shifting in her seat, Nathan wondered if she were comfortable. “Sorry about my truck,” he apologized.
“Sorry?”
“Yeah, I know it’s not comfortable. At least, not much for humans. I guess I mostly transport dogs.”
Keeping her breath steady, she repeated, “Dogs?”
Smiling widely, he warmed to the topic. “I raise Bloodhounds and train them for tracking. They’re comfortable in this old truck and probably the reason why I haven’t traded up and gotten something newer.”
“The truck is fine. Honestly,” she assured. “Tell me more about your dogs.”
Before he had a chance to respond, they pulled into the parking lot. She peered out the window at the steak and seafood restaurant and smiled.
He turned to her and, seeing her face, breathed easier. “I should have asked what you like to eat, but I figured this place, which is known for both their beef and their seafood, would give you a choice.” Suddenly, eyes wide, he said, “Oh, my God, I didn’t ask if you were vegetarian…or had seafood allergies!”
She placed her hand on his arm and rushed, “It’s fine. No allergies and I love both.”
Audibly sighing in relief, he said, “Hang tight. I’ll get your door.”
Agatha sat, watching as Nathan rounded the front of his truck and came to her door. Opening it, he offered his hand as she slid from the seat, never letting go even as they made their way inside. In fact, following the hostess, he kept hold of her hand until she was seated.
Once they ordered, she turned to him and said, “You were telling me about your dogs.” Observing the relaxed expression on his face, she knew she had picked the right topic.
“I was raised on a farm and I got a dog when our elderly neighbor could no longer take care of his. Fell in love with that Bloodhound and they’ve been my favorite breed ever since. I learned to track, got certified in that, and did that while in the Army with the military police.”
Watching the twinkle in his eyes, she sat mesmerized, unable to look away. His eyes were the color of melted, milk chocolate with caramel swirled throughout. Blinking, she held back a laugh at the dessert-like analogy. Covering quickly, she pretended ignorance by asking, “Do you
r dogs look for drugs or um…what else? Oh, maybe explosives? I read about dogs that do that.”
Shaking his head, he said, “No, although my friend, Blaise…one of the Saints you met the other day…his wife, Grace, used to raise dogs that searched for drugs. She now trains them to be companion dogs.”
“Is that like service dogs?”
“It can be, but she specializes in dogs trained to be with the elderly or those with dementia. As companions, they can greatly aid in the quality of life for these people.”
Giving her head a little shake, she said, “I had no idea there were so many uses for dogs besides just pets.”
“Did you have any pets? Or do you?”
Her smile dropped and she stared at her glass, avoiding his eyes. “No…I wanted one, but my parents didn’t want…well…” she lifted her shoulders in a gesture of defeat. “No. Not now either.”
He watched her face, trying to figure out what she was thinking, but she didn’t want to elaborate, couldn’t really, without giving away too much.
Their silence was interrupted as the server brought their food. His steak and potato filled his plate and her seafood sampler platter was huge. She smiled as she looked over saying, “Your steak looks amazing.”
Visibly glad to see her relaxing again, he said, “I was just going to say the same thing about your seafood.”
Biting her lip, she hoped she was not being too forward and chanced, “Uh…we can share some, if you’d like.”
The wide eyes he turned to her caused her to backtrack. “But, that’d be silly. So sorry, I don’t know why I—”
“No, no,” he rushed, easing her obvious discomfort. “I was surprised because I was just thinking the same thing, but you got to it first. I’d love to share.”
Smiling in relief, she admitted, “I suppose I should tell you that I don’t date a lot. It’s just that I’m usually so busy and…” She fiddled with her napkin, now wishing she’d kept her mouth shut again. God, I’m usually so controlled! What is it about him that makes me babble like a fool?
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