Searching Love_Saints Protection & Investigations
Page 8
Chuckling, he said, “Well, if you’re being so honest…I should be the same.” He waited until her curiosity had her gaze moving back to his before continuing, “I don’t do a lot of dating myself. Can’t really say why. My life is mostly my cabin and my dogs, and I’m good with that.”
She observed him for a moment, seeing both strength and vulnerability in him. “You understand your dogs.”
His gaze jumped to hers as his lips twitched. “Yeah. Dogs I get. Loyal. Trusting. Honest. People…not so much.”
A strange ache settled in her chest at the word honest. She wanted to know him. Everything about him. But would never be able to give him the same.
“Is your food alright?” the server interrupted.
They both startled and, laughing, admitted they had not tried it. He cut his steak and placed part of it on her plate as she scooped shrimp and scallops onto his. Leaving the heavier topics, they enjoyed the food, wine, and lighter conversation.
9
It was hard for Nathan to keep his eyes off Agatha. Dressed in dark, tight jeans and a pale, blue blouse, she had held his attention from the moment she walked toward him. Her dark, blonde hair was sleek, styled simply. Her makeup appeared skillful…not too elaborate, but playing up her amber eyes. She did not smile often, but when she did, her smile was almost perfect. One incisor was slightly crooked and he found it gave her face character.
She appeared to be enjoying her food and he realized he had been staring for a moment too long. Jerking his gaze back to his plate, he hoped he had not creeped her out.
Over dessert, she licked her bottom lip carefully, probably making sure the chocolate sauce was not all over her face but, for him, it was a test in composure and he struggled, again, not to stare.
“You were telling me about your dogs, earlier,” she reminded. He smiled, thankful for the distraction but also happy to talk about his beloved dogs.
“I’m a tracker. I use my dogs for search and rescue.” He watched her face carefully, wondering what she thought. He knew some women wanted more than his simple life. Might be a Saint now, but I’m still essentially a farmer’s son who loves dogs. As he waited, he noted her attention was still riveted to him, a small smile playing about her mouth, no look of discontent crossing her features.
“It’s your passion,” she stated, her eyes still on his.
Nodding slowly, he agreed. “Yeah, it is. I love the trust between my dogs and me. I trust them explicitly to find who we’re looking for and they trust me to take care of them.” Shrugging, he said, “Sometimes, in humans, it’s harder to find that kind of trust.”
Snorting softly, she said, “Almost impossible, I think.”
“Not really,” he countered. “You just have to find the right people to trust. I’ve known for years that the other Saints were absolutely trustworthy. And, I’ve seen them with their wives…also bonds that’re completely full of trust. So, it’s there. You just have to find it.”
They sat silent for a moment and he asked, “Tell me about your passion.”
Her gaze jumped from her empty plate to his face and she immediately replied, “None. I don’t really have a passion.”
“I can’t believe that,” he said.
“It’s true,” she insisted, giving a little shrug.
“You work in a women’s shelter. I saw how you took Gail in the other day.”
Her brow crinkled as she said, “But, that’s what I do. I mean, that’s not really a passion, is it?”
“Why the shelter?” he prodded.
“Sorry?”
“Why work there? I mean, what keeps you doing it? If you could change careers, would you?”
Tilting her head to the side, she considered his questions. “I guess that when the opportunity came up, I was glad to help the center. I like working with Ann and feel like I can do a little bit to make the women’s lives better. It makes me feel good when I see the women, who have come in beaten down, leave with their dignity intact.”
He watched her face soften as she spoke, and he said, “That, sweet Aggie, is passion.”
She blinked furiously, swallowing hard. She had never been called by a nickname and the intimacy it implied made her feel warm inside. Quickly looking down, she tried to hide her watery eyes, but he saw them.
Taking pity on her discomfort, he leaned forward, saying, “Let’s get out of here. I feel like I need a walk after all that food.” He stood and offered his hand, loving the feel of her delicate touch. Adding a slight pressure to her fingers, he pulled her close as they made their way back to his truck. The restaurant was on the waterfront of the river that cut through the area and a sidewalk bordered the bank.
“Wanna take a walk?’
“I’d love that,” she agreed. They walked along, silently holding hands for several minutes, until she stopped by the railing to watch the gulls swooping down to the fishing boats returning to the harbor at the end of the day. “Birds are so lucky, don’t you think?”
Uncertain how to answer a question that he had never pondered before, he chuckled. “Can’t say as I thought of them as lucky before.”
Dropping her head, she grinned. “Okay, I know that sounded really random. But, to be able to just open your wings and take off flying…that would be amazing.”
“Are you envious of their freedom?”
Shrugging, she said, “When I was a little girl, I used to have nightmares that someone was chasing me, but just as they were reaching out for me, I’d lift up into the air and fly away.” Twisting her head around, she added, “And don’t you make fun of me. I actually read that lots of people have that dream!”
Laughing, he stood behind her, his arms reaching to the rail in front, boxing her in with his large body and blocking the cool breeze. Leaning his head down, he whispered in her ear, “I’d never make fun of you.”
This time, as she turned her head to the side, his lips were only a breath away from hers. Desiring her kiss more than anything he had felt in a long time, he nonetheless waited, watching as her eyes moved between his and his lips.
Finally, tentatively, he moved in slowly, giving her plenty of opportunity to tell him to back off if she wanted, but instead, she leaned forward. Their lips met and he tried to hold back the desire to pull her into his arms, crushing her body against his.
She tasted of chocolate and light wine, decadent and sweet all at the same time. He felt her uncertainty but as he licked her lips, she opened her mouth and he swept his tongue inside. Intoxicated with her, he slowly shifted her body so that she was facing him, her arms clutching his biceps, her fingers digging in as though she needed assistance to remain upright. His arms slid around her body, one hand pressing into the small of her back, holding her steady, and the other fisting in her hair, angling her mouth as he continued to explore her warmth.
Agatha felt Nathan’s kiss down to her knees, as they grew weak. She was not sure she would have been able to remain standing if his arm was not banded around her. His tongue tangled with hers and she had to admit the taste of dark wine, chocolate and something masculine was driving her to distraction. She barely remembered the kiss she shared as she lost her virginity, but she knew for a fact it was nothing like this kiss. Nathan’s kiss sent electric shocks from their lips to every nerve in her body and she fought the desire to rub up against him, willing the ache between her legs to cease.
Just when her legs began to quiver, he pulled back, and she instantly felt the loss. Chest heaving, she gulped in air, having no idea what to say. Her mouth opened of its own volition but “wow” was the only thing that came forth. He was peering deeply into her eyes, and she thought she caught a shadow pass through them before it quickly left.
He smiled and pressed her head against his chest, where she could hear his heartbeat pounding, and the shadow was instantly forgotten. Blowing out a deep breath, he repeated her sentiment. “Wow is right.”
She leaned back, a wide smile on her lips and he bent to kiss them lightl
y. “I’d better get you home.”
Nodding, she said, “I’d like to say that I’m not Cinderella and won’t turn into a pumpkin, but I feel like I need to be at the center since this is only our second night in the new place.”
Giving her a squeeze, he grinned as he linked fingers with her and they walked to his truck.
Once they arrived at the center, he helped her out of his truck again and walked her to the front door. Standing, hand in hand, he said, “I had a great time tonight.”
Suddenly nervous, she sucked in her lips. “Me too. I honestly can’t remember ever having such a nice evening.”
“Can I see you again?”
Nodding, she remained calm on the surface while jumping up and down on the inside. “Absolutely.”
Heart warming, Nathan bent to kiss Agatha, touching his tongue to hers before pulling back. “I’ll call tomorrow.” His gaze shifted to the door behind her and he added, “Let me hear the lock when you get in and don’t forget to set the alarm.” He watched as she moved inside and waited until he heard the click before climbing back into his truck.
Driving home, his mind swirled with thoughts of the evening, trying to reconcile the unexpected change in him. How can I be obsessed with one woman, that I can only see in my dreams, for almost two years, and then, suddenly, desire another woman like this? It’s all happening so fast. Agnes has meant so much to me for so long, but Agatha…I can’t deny what is happening with her. By the time he pulled into his driveway, he knew that to have held on to the idea of Agnes like he had, a woman he’d only known for an hour and was a dream that had no chance of coming true, was crazy. And it was only because of Aggie, feeling something real with her, something possible, that he could finally start to accept that. At least, I can try to.
Having fed the dogs before he went out, he only had Scarlett to greet as he went into his cabin. Kicking off his boots, he moved into the kitchen to grab a beer before plopping onto the sofa, allowing her to climb up onto it with him, her large head lying in his lap, her dark brown eyes staring up at him.
“Scarlett, I’ve come to the conclusion tonight that I might actually be crazy. I’ve spent two fuckin’ years with my mind filled with a woman that I barely know. We only spent an hour together, but every time I learned something about her, it made me admire her more. All she gave up. All she risked. That alone was enough to block out every other woman I ever met until…”
Rubbing Scarlett’s head behind her ears she groaned in pleasure then continued to stare up at him, as though understanding his confessions.
“But, that’s all Agnes Gruzinsky was, right? A chance meeting. The proverbial ships passing in the night. A person to be admired, but that’s it.” Chuckling, he said, “She’s sure as shit moved on. The idea of her granting more than a passing thought to me over the past two years, after everything she went through, and especially after Harlan got her to safety…” Taking a swig of beer, he said, “I’ve been an idiot, staying linked to a ghost.”
Scarlett groaned again as she shifted, her eyes now closing with the contentment of his hand rubbing her stomach. He leaned his head back against the sofa, determined to focus his thoughts firmly on Agatha. Agatha Christel. Fuck, even her name reminds me of Agnes and how she quoted Agatha Christy that night. And, Agatha deserves so much more than to compete with a ghost. For the first time in two years, someone real and tangible, was seeping into his heart.
Moving the large dog head from his lap he walked back into the kitchen and tossed the bottle into the trash, frustrated at his own back and forth. Walking down the short hall to the bedroom, he tapped his leg, calling, “Come on, girl.”
Scarlett climbed down from the sofa and trotted toward him. Once he finished in the bathroom, he grinned, seeing her already ensconced in the middle of the bed. “Move over,” he chided gently, and she dutifully rolled over to one side.
For a moment, the idea of Agatha sharing his bed at some point gave him pause. Pulling the covers up, he smiled at the thought of Scarlett having to get used to sleeping on the floor.
God, I am crazy…I’ve been on one date with her and I’m already thinking about her being here in my bed. Rolling over, his gaze automatically moved to the window, the sight of stars in the night sky comforting.
The similarities between the two women stayed on his mind, but some part of him knew that, in the end, what he really wanted was Agatha. The very real Agatha. The very sweet, amazing, beautiful Agatha. It was just going to take some time to fully let go of the woman he had been dreaming of for two years.
Sleep finally came but vivid dreams had him tossing most of the night as the face of the woman in the van as it pulled away morphed into the face of the woman he had just kissed.
10
Bethany welcomed the Saints as they came into the house, waving toward the kitchen counter where two large baking platters of muffins sat waiting to be decimated. Nathan grinned as he grabbed a plate, knowing if he did not dig in immediately, he would miss out.
Cam, already stuffing his mouth with a blueberry and peach muffin, said, “This is the only place I know where getting to the food is a competitive sport.”
The others laughed, each filling their plates as well.
“God, this is good, Bethany,” Chad said. “I gotta thank you for teaching Dani how to make this. She’s been practicing and I’m reaping the benefits at home.”
“Practicing?” Bethany exclaimed. “She’s an excellent baker!”
Chad grinned. “I tell her it’s almost perfect and that keeps her making more.”
“Damn, man,” Jude said. “You better hope she doesn’t catch on to your little subterfuge to get more.”
Nathan finished his plate and, rinsing it in the sink, looked around the room, glad for the easy camaraderie of the Saints. He knew their women shared the same bond with each other. The image of Aggie in the room with all of them flew through his mind and he blinked, the realization of just how much he would like that hitting him.
Jack called them all to the meeting and with thanks shouted out to Bethany once more, they headed downstairs. Quickly getting down to business, Jack began.
“The FBI are still working Harlan’s murder, and while they have their theories, they have no proof. It seems Gavrill’s brother, Yurgi, was in Norfolk at the time and, while they have monitored Gavrill’s communications from prison, they can’t prove a link.”
“It seems that there’s a lot of supposition but no facts to go on,” Bart groused.
Nodding, Jack agreed. “The FBI is looking into the communications and there’s a possibility that Johan was back in the country illegally and has now gone to ground again. He’d be my first suspect for Harlan’s murder. Gavrill’s allowed much more leniency with his visitations as well. I’ve had Luke and Charlie working on that possibility to pass on info to the FBI.”
Luke said, “The inmates in the minimum security prison—”
“Fuck!” Cam cursed, his face contorted. Sighing, while shaking his head, he apologized, “Sorry. Just frustrated that Gavrill only got in on fuckin’ taxes.”
“I know…minimum security for tax evasion when in reality he’s a cold-blooded killer, mafia ruler, human trafficing, kidnapper, and who the fuck knows what else,” Luke acknowledged. “But, anyway, he’s able to use email, which he knows is monitored, but not scrutinized. Charlie’s been working on seeing if he’s using code and, of course, my brilliant wife has discovered some of what he’s been saying.”
“So far,” Charlie said, “he’s using a simple code with both English and Russian words, with a mathematical integration. No way is he smart enough to figure this out on his own, so someone in his organization is helping. No surprise there but, even then, it isn’t all that sophisticated. Still, he’s not saying anything suspicious,” she smiled, “at least not on the surface.”
“You got something?” Nathan asked, still getting used to the rapid-fire dialog during a Saints’ meeting.
Charlie
nodded, “Well, yes and no. I’m still working on it, but I’m sure he’s giving orders to his organization. I’m mostly interested in what he’s telling Yurgi. Now that I understand the code he’s using, I’m monitoring him constantly.”
Jack turned to Bart and said, “I was going to ask if you’d like to have another crack at him. This time, interviewing him in prison.”
Grinning as he high-fived Cam, he replied, “Fuck, yeah!”
Chuckling, Jack said, “I was sure you would.” Turning to Nathan, he said, “You want to ride shotgun on this.”
“Abso-fuckin’-lutely,” he agreed. The chance to move further into the investigation, as well as get his eyes on the man who was responsible for Agnes’ necessity to disappear, was exactly what he wanted.
“Nick, I’d like you to go as well. As former FBI, you’ll have your own perspective.” Jack grinned, “Figured you’d like to drop in on Yurgi. And, as an added bonus, I’ll have you talk to Agnes’ family in prison also.”
“Any luck on finding who assisted Agnes in her great disappearance?” Jude asked.
Charlie shook her head and said, “I’ve got nothing. I’ve checked with some of the other security business that, like Jack, operate under radar but, so far, nothing. Or, at least, no one is saying anything.”
The meeting continued, but Nathan’s mind jumped to planning for the trip…and telling Agatha that he would be gone for a few days.
Agatha moved through the new center, having spent the day making sure the furniture moved from the old center was correctly placed in their new location. Some of the new furniture and supplies that Ann had ordered arrived earlier and she oversaw them being unpacked and taken to the appropriate rooms as well.