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Way of the Warrior

Page 13

by Suzanne Brockmann


  She winced a little, hoping he didn’t catch it. She’d had a hard and fast rule about not dating coworkers, but she’d suffered a serious lapse in judgment when it came to Sean Jackson. She’d been lonely after Joe’s deployment, missed him desperately. Hell, if truth be told, she’d been lonely long before then, even during those brief periods when she’d been in a relationship, trying to convince herself that she could be happy with someone other than the man she was already in love with.

  True to her dating form, she’d only dated Sean for a couple of months before she’d broken things off. At first, she’d worried about how he’d take it, seeing as how Sean’s ego had proven to be his true love. But he hadn’t seemed perturbed in the least.

  “That ended amicably,” she said.

  Joe jerked his chin at her. “Says you. I want to talk to him.”

  • • •

  Sean Jackson was a tool. That was the nicest way Joe could put it. The guy stood there with his bodybuilder muscles, in his tight athletic shorts and too-tight T-shirt that clearly showed off his bulging biceps and spray tan, chomping his gum like a teenager, wearing his whistle like a medal. Dude needed to let go of his high school glory days. And lay off the ’roids.

  “Welcome back, buddy,” Jackson managed through the smack, smack, smack of his chewing gum, extending his hand to Joe. “Glad to see you’re back up on your feet.”

  Joe shook the offered hand and sent a glance Sadie’s way, wondering just how much people knew about him. “Thanks.”

  “So…what? You two together now?” the coach asked, gesturing back and forth between the two of them.

  But before either of them could respond, Jackson suddenly blew his whistle before barking out instructions at his players, berating them rather colorfully for screwing up the last play. When he’d finished, he turned his overly white grin on Joe and Sadie. “What brings ya by?”

  Joe narrowed his eyes a little at the coach, marveling at how the guy could just turn his anger on and off like a switch. “You know anything about the notes someone’s been leaving Sadie?” he asked pointedly, not liking the way Jackson’s gaze kept flicking down to Sadie’s cleavage.

  “What kind of notes?” Jackson asked. He grunted. “Another parent pissed that their precious snowflake flunked a test?”

  “Parents are always getting upset if they think their children were graded unfairly,” Sadie explained, shrugging it off. “The notes I’ve been receiving are far more…personal in nature.”

  Jackson pulled back just a little, glancing back and forth between Joe and Sadie before his lips curled up in a wide grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh, I get it. And you think ’cause Sadie and I had a thing for a while that I might be leaving her these notes.”

  Joe lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “Gotta ask.”

  Jackson suddenly caught a glimpse of the play going to hell on the field and blew sharply into his whistle. “What the hell was that?” he demanded. “Get your heads out of your asses!”

  Joe shook his head. Oh yeah, total tool.

  Jackson’s face was still flushed from his outburst when he turned back to Joe, puffing out his chest. “Well, it ain’t me. I’ve got babes linin’ up to have a go. I sure as hell don’t need to chase after some chick who doesn’t know what she’s missin’.” He jerked his chin at Sadie. “No offense.”

  Sadie laughed drily and shook her head. “None taken. Trust me.”

  That was Joe’s cue to wrap it up. “Thanks for chatting with us, Coach. I’ll be in touch if I have any other questions.”

  Jackson gave him an absent nod before yelling, “Seriously, Parker? What the hell was that? You got a sister? Maybe she can throw worth a damn!”

  As Joe led Sadie back to his patrol car, he rested his hands on his gun belt, vaguely noting how good it felt to have the heft of it around his waist again, even if it did pull at the still-sensitive skin on his stomach. “Charming guy.”

  “I seem to recall more than one questionable choice in your dating history, Joe Dawson,” she shot back.

  Couldn’t argue there. The biggest one being that he’d never asked her out. “Yeah, well,” he chuckled, “they all had their finer points.”

  “Oh, uh-huh,” Sadie said, nodding with mock agreement. “And if I’m not mistaken, most of those ‘finer points’ were right about”—she brought her fists up near her breasts and made a popping sound as she shot out her index fingers—“here.”

  Joe threw his head back with a laugh and draped an arm around her shoulder, hugging her close for a moment before he remembered he was still on duty. His arm dropped back to his side, and he edged to his left, putting a little space between them.

  After a moment of tense silence, Sadie linked her arm through his, leaning on him to keep the heels of her pumps from sinking into the grass, and asked, “So what now?”

  He took a deep breath and blew it out in a frustrated burst. “Hell if I know. I guess we wait until he makes another move. I just wish you’d told me about this sooner.”

  Her gaze flicked guiltily up to his as they reached the car, but she quickly looked away when he opened the door for her to get in. “You were a little busy getting your life back together, Joe,” she muttered. “I didn’t really want to burden you with my problems.”

  He wanted to argue with her, insist he hadn’t been such a fucking wreck that she couldn’t have confided in him. But the truth was, he had been. And it was her love and support that had gotten him through it. Now it was his turn to be there for her, unconditionally. He chucked her gently on the chin. “Let’s worry a little less about me and more about you, whaddya say?”

  She rested her hand on the top of the door, brushing her fingers briefly over his. “I can’t make any promises there.”

  Taking a chance and knowing he was a total idiot even as he did it, he slid his hand forward just enough that their fingers were laced together. “Try,” he pleaded, his voice low.

  She glanced at their intertwined fingers, then lifted her eyes to him. “Okay,” she relented. “For you.”

  He smiled down at her, loving the way her eyes danced when she looked at him that way. And, like an idiot, he burst out with, “Sadie, I…” But his voice trailed off, the words that sat on the end of his tongue, still too heavy to give voice to.

  And there it was—that sudden tension that filled the air between them, that unspoken desire that simmered just below the surface. She must’ve felt it too, because she quickly turned away and got in the car, slamming the door shut and nearly nailing his fingers in the process.

  Joe closed his eyes for a moment. The back and forth between them was torture. Complete and utter torture. He wasn’t sure if he was a dumbass or a chicken shit for not just telling her how he felt and putting it out there, confessing what was becoming harder and harder to suppress. And considering how he’d been reliving their kiss over and over again throughout the day only to have to divert his thoughts to keep Little Joe from popping up with an ill-timed “Hi, how are ya!” he was inclined to add pathetic loser as an option…

  CHAPTER 3

  Sadie poured another glass of Chardonnay, hoping it would help her wash down the chicken that was sticking in her throat like ash. She glanced up at Joe where he sat across the table, eating in awkward silence. He’d showered after getting home from his shift and changed into low-slung jeans and a loose-fitting Army T-shirt, looking far too hot for his own good. As usual.

  The rock band Snow Patrol was playing on the stereo in her living room, the soothing music the only thing filling the silence. The tension between them had never been this heavy. In fact, there’d been a time when sitting in companionable silence was comfortable, welcome. Back when they were in high school, they’d just lie on a blanket in the meadow behind their houses, staring up at the clouds and dreaming about what the future might hold. There’d been no need for wor
ds then. They’d known each other so well. There was no mystery in a glance, a sigh. Not like now. With everything going on, she’d never longed for those days as badly as she did at that moment.

  She had to admit to having a bit of a panic attack when he told her he’d be staying at her house for a couple of days in an effort to make it look like they were together, show the stalker that she had a male presence in the house. It also would give him the chance to give her parents’ old house the once-over and make sure it was safe for her to be there on her own when he couldn’t be with her. Had his father still been living in one of the only other houses on the secluded street, he would’ve felt a lot better, but Mac Dawson had sold the home after the death of his wife, and the current owners were veritable strangers, rarely home.

  Sadie hadn’t realized just how little she knew about her neighbors until Joe had quizzed her on their names and daily habits. When they were growing up, it had always been a tightly knit rural community where neighborhood kids could stay out after dark catching fireflies without their parents worrying about where they were or if they were safe. She’d taken for granted that it still was that way. She’d certainly never worried about her own safety before now.

  Oh, sure, she’d considered having an alarm system installed on the old house after her parents retired to Charleston, but she’d quickly dismissed the idea. This was a community where people left their doors unlocked at night, their keys in their cars. She’d never imagined she might actually have reason to worry. But recent events—and Joe’s litany of questions—made her realize just how wrong she’d been.

  That said, it’d been a week now and nothing had happened. Nothing. At. All. Not with her stalker and not with Joe. And him sleeping in the guest room just down the hall every night made her want to scream in frustration. To have him right there, so close, with nothing but a wall and an antiquated promise to remain friends separating them, had become a special kind of torture. Not to mention seeing how worried he was for her safety didn’t do much to calm her nerves.

  It was the PTSD. That’s what she kept telling herself. She’d read in all the books that soldiers suffering from post-traumatic stress could exaggerate threats to those they cared about, would be hypersensitive to the safety of their family and friends. That had to be it. Because, jealous or not, that sicko who’d been stalking her wouldn’t really get to the point of trying to do her harm. Would he? Not when she’d taken every possible precaution she could think of and now a sheriff’s car was parked out front. Right?

  She cleared her throat, no longer able to stand the silence. If Joe was going to be there all night, they’d have to talk at some point. “So,” she began, clearing her throat again when the word stuck. “Have you found anything in the file that we might’ve missed?”

  Joe took a swig of his beer before answering. “No. Nothing.”

  She studied him for a moment, knowing that frown well. “And that worries you.”

  He nodded. “I’ve gone over everything a dozen times. Tom was right—the guy’s meticulous, not a single piece of evidence. He hasn’t called or emailed or anything traceable. There’re no fingerprints to work with. And I checked with the local florists—they don’t have any deliveries on record for you. And the roses were just generic flowers you could find at any gas station or grocery store. There was nothing unusual about them at all. Nothing to tell us where he got them.”

  “He’s thought of everything,” Sadie said, unable to keep the worry out of her voice. “God, Joe, what the hell are we going to do? I saw how you looked at that rabbit the other morning. This is more than just some obsessed secret admirer, isn’t it?”

  Joe set aside his fork and got to his feet, coming around to her side of the table. Without a word, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet…and into his arms. She slipped her arms around his waist just above where she could feel the bulge of the weapon concealed at the small of his back and rested her head on his chest. For several moments, they just stood there, holding on to each other. But then she felt him take a deep breath and let it out slowly and knew the perfect moment of peace was about to end.

  “Sadie,” he said, his voice hesitant. “About that morning—”

  A sudden crash in the kitchen cut off his words. Before she even realized what’d happened, he’d abruptly set her away from him and pulled his Glock, every muscle in his body taut, on alert and ready for a fight.

  She opened her mouth to ask what the hell was going on, but he held a finger to his lips and motioned for her to stay where she was. Sadie’s heart raced, her blood pounding in her ears, every instinct urging her to run, but she nodded.

  Joe crept toward the swinging door that led from the dining room to the kitchen, the only escape from the tiny dining room in the old Victorian home. He took a deep breath, then threw open the door, his gaze sweeping the room. Finding it clear, he darted away from the wall, peeking through the gap between the door and the frame, getting a quick look at that side of the room as well. Still not seeing the source of the noise, he motioned once more for Sadie to stay back and pivoted away from the wall and into the room, gun outstretched. A few seconds later, he cursed and stormed back into the dining room, gun down at his side.

  “What was it?” Sadie asked, her heart in her throat.

  Joe ran a hand over his hair. Then, with a quirked eyebrow, he held open the door and whistled. In response, a very guilty-looking black Lab slunk into the room, his muzzle slathered with sauce. “Looks like Jasper decided to do a little counter surfing for his dinner this evening.”

  Sadie gasped then laughed, snorting with the force of her relieved mirth, which only served to make her laugh harder. She doubled over as the tension melted away. Finally, when her stomach muscles began to ache, she straightened, wiping tears from her cheeks, hoping to see Joe laughing too and maybe catch a glimpse of the smile she so adored. But instead, he was leaning against the dining room wall, his head back, eyes squeezed shut.

  Her laughter instantly died. “Joe?”

  He heaved a sigh. “I don’t know how I’m going to do this, Sadie.”

  She went to him, cupping his cheek. “Do what?”

  “Go back to being a deputy.” He opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. “Yeah, this week has been fine. Uneventful. But when Jasper knocked that damned pan off the counter, I nearly hit the frigging deck. How am I going to deal with it when I’m actually up against some asshole who’s trying to hurt me?” His brow furrowed, his gaze growing more intense as he searched her face. “Or hurt someone I love.”

  Someone he loved? Did that mean…? Was he saying…?

  Sadie smoothed her thumb over his cheek, her heart thundering with tentative hope that was growing more certain as their gazes held. She almost pulled back, afraid of another humiliating rejection like she’d experienced a few days ago, but then Joe’s arm slid around her waist, drawing her to him. And then his lips were brushing against hers, so warm, so gentle.

  Her arms went around his neck, not about to let him back out of their kiss this time. She pressed her body into his, their kiss growing more insistent, frenzied, their breath coming in gasps as he pushed off the wall and walked her a few steps backward. For one crazy second, she thought maybe he was going to sweep their dinner from the table and take her right there, but then she heard the heavy thud of his gun as he set it down to free up his hands.

  And—oh, dear God—those hands were magical. Rough, callused, powerful…manly. They slid under the hem of her T-shirt, lightly caressing her back until reaching the clasp of her bra. A quick flick of his fingers. She gasped, breaking their kiss as he cupped her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple and making her shiver.

  “I want you, Sadie,” he breathed against the curve of her throat, pinching her aching nipple, rolling it, making it impossible for her to do more than nod. “I always have.”

  In the next instant, he was pulling her s
hirt over her head and tossing it aside. Her bra followed. For a millisecond, she almost brought her arms up to cover her chest to hide herself from his gaze, but then he was pulling her back to him, claiming her mouth in a harsh kiss. And his hand was sliding past the waistband of her jeans, cupping her ass with rough, demanding hands. And there was only one thing on her mind…

  • • •

  This was wrong. Joe knew it even as he and Sadie slammed into the wall of the upstairs hallway in their blind desperation to make it to her bedroom. He bent, taking one of her perfect breasts into his mouth, the little moan in the back of her throat making his already painfully hard cock throb even harder. Christ, if he didn’t bury himself in her soon, he was gonna blow like some virgin teenager.

  He groaned, sliding his hand down between them, his heart somersaulting with joy when he found her burning up with need, already slick and ready for him. She cried out a little as his fingertip brushed against the sensitive bud of nerves.

  “Oh no,” he murmured with a low chuckle. “Not yet.”

  She writhed against his hand with a little whimper. “Please, Joe,” she gasped, tearing at his fly. “I want you inside me. Now.”

  Holy hell. Okay, then. So much for his go slow strategy. He just hoped like hell she had a condom somewhere because he sure as shit hadn’t bought any in the last couple of years… But before they could take another step, Sadie was pulling him down to the ground, her hands pushing his jeans over his hips and freeing his swollen cock, taking him in her hand. She stroked him, gentle but purposeful, making his head spin.

  Sweet Jesus.

  Why in the hell had they waited so damned long? He shuddered, perilously close to losing it, and cursed under his breath. “Sadie,” he rasped out, grasping her wrist to still her hand. When she frowned, confused, he offered her as much of a grin as he could muster, then slid her jeans and panties over her hips, along those luscious thighs, down her shapely calves. He kissed his way back up, his mouth and tongue tasting every inch of her. When he reached her swollen sex, she lifted that sweet ass, urging him on with a strangled sound of need that sent a shudder through him. How could he resist?

 

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