Strike two.
I wrap my arm around her, and she molds her body against mine. I’m enjoying how she seems to fit against me like the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle a little too much. When the elevator stops and we stroll down the hallway together, a sense of dread settles in my gut from out of the blue. This time, it’s not over concern about her apartment not being safe enough—I’m facing the fact that she has her own place and will be leaving mine soon.
Years of being alone have suddenly caught up with me, and I don’t want to be alone anymore.
She stops at her door and begins unlocking the dead bolts, and I take the time to inspect the door closely. There are light scratches around the locks and the bolts, other scratches in the paint where the door meets the frame, indicating someone worked to pick all the locks and gain entry into her condo. She just arrived home at the worst possible time.
Yet none of her neighbors heard anything, called the police, or came to her aid.
Strike three.
The door to her condo swings open, but she stands motionless at the threshold, staring inside at the mess left behind. From where we stand, I can see her overturned dining table and a few broken chairs surrounding it. Shattered glass from broken vases litters the floor. The groceries she’d bought are scattered throughout the room.
“I’m with you, babe. Right beside you every step of the way. Let’s go inside.”
She nods, but her actions are almost robotic. Dealing with the aftermath of the attack brings back too many terrible memories, but this must be done one way or another. For me, I wouldn’t have it any other way than being right here with her to help her work through the pain and fear. When she slips her hand into mine, I realize she’s putting her full trust in me yet again to protect her. I’ll be her undercover hero, in whatever capacity she needs.
I step inside first, and she follows in my footsteps, staying close to me in case a monster steps out of the shadows. With my other hand, I unholster the gun on my hip and hold it at the ready. When she looks up at me, she appears to be a little more comforted than just a moment ago. She knows I meant what I said about Butch leaving in a body bag. If it comes down to him or her, there’s really no choice to be made.
“We’re going to check every possible hiding place in each room first to make sure we’re completely alone. Then while you pack, I’ll straighten up, so you don’t have to look at this mess anymore. Are you ready?”
She nods again, this time more animatedly, letting me know she feels more secure. After I lock the door behind us, we move from room to room together, checking in every closet, behind every door, and under every piece of intact furniture. Butch was frantic in his search, hitting every room and leaving a path of chaos and destruction. Satisfied that we’re alone and no one will get past me to hurt her, she releases her death grip on my hand and walks into her closet to begin picking out the additional items she’ll need. I grab her suitcases from the top shelf and lay them out for her easy access. While she’s busy with that, I set out to clean up and make her home feel as close to normal as possible.
When I’ve finished righting her furniture, picking up shattered debris, and sweeping up broken glass in the other rooms, I move back into to her bedroom. She’s sitting at her vanity table, staring at her still-bruised face. The swelling is down considerably since she first showed up at my door, but it’s nowhere near gone. Neither are the discolorations around her eye, on her cheeks, or on her neck. Those are the visible injuries. Under her shirt, the bruises on her ribs and back are worse, as I suspected they would be before they get better.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say, “What’s on your mind, gorgeous?”, but I know she’d assume I’m only attempting to distract her from her current thoughts. I’m not—all I see is her beauty shining through—but I hold my tongue anyway.
“Last room to clean up. Do you need any help packing your clothes and one million and one shoes?”
“One million and one? Does one of my feet not get a shoe?” She can’t stop the small grin that breaks free despite her resistance. “I think I’ve packed everything I’ll need. To be honest, I didn’t leave much here—most everything I have is coming with me. Except my scrubs, of course, since I won’t be working during the next couple of weeks.”
“You can work all you want.” I wait for her to give me the side-eye before continuing. “On your book. While sitting on my couch. Safe in my house.”
“I should’ve known there was a catch.” She shakes her head, but I don’t miss the smile she attempts to hide. She secretly enjoys all the doting she’s receiving. And maybe I’m enjoying giving it more than I’ve realized before now.
Over the next few minutes, I straighten up her bedroom to erase all traces of Butch’s presence. Putting the mattress and box spring back on the bed frame and picking up the mess Butch left behind doesn’t take long. When I’ve finished, I zip her suitcases closed and pull them with one hand.
“Shall we?” I offer my other arm to her, and she wraps her hand around it, pulling close to me again.
When we reach her living room, she stops and looks around. “This is amazing, Nick. I thought it would take hours to make a dent in the damage he did. It’s almost back to normal, minus the broken furniture I’ll have to replace now.”
“We’ll come back another day, and I’ll take all the garbage out. I didn’t want to leave you up here alone to get everything out of here today. At least you can walk through here without stepping on anything now.” She squeezes my arm and leans her head against me.
“Thank you, Nick. What would I have done without you?” Her voice is a little watery, clogged with emotion, so I simply kiss her on the top of the head in response.
We leave the building without incident, and I help her climb into my vehicle for the short drive back to my place. Glancing over at her in the passenger seat of my truck, I can tell this short excursion has worn her out, probably more from the emotional aspect than anything. She leans her head against the back of the seat and fights sleep as I take my time, slowing at yellow lights and actually coming to a full stop at the stop signs.
When I pull into my driveway and kill the engine, I almost hate to wake her to get her inside. But the chilly weather starts to permeate the interior of the truck almost immediately, preventing me from sitting here and staring at her for too long.
“Are we already back home?” Her eyes are still closed, and her voice is heavy with sleep, but she knows where we are. Home. Funny. I’ve never thought of my brownstone as home until she said it.
“We’re home, darlin’. Let’s get you inside so you can finish that nap under your blanket.”
After getting her settled on the couch, I grab her suitcases from the truck and put them in the bedroom. Then I take my spot at the kitchen table and review the plan to nab Butch for the umpteenth time. Now more than ever, I want him out of her life. For her safety, of course. But for more selfish reasons I’ve only just realized.
When she said she didn’t know what she’d do without me, it struck a chord deep inside me. One that, now that she rang it, can’t be unrung now. Will she still want me when he’s no longer a threat? Will her feelings for me diminish when she’s free to live her life again?
Or will she be ready to pursue something more serious…more permanent?
While she sleeps, I decide to make that phone call I’ve been putting off for far too long. I feel partially responsible for Butch even having the opportunity to get to her. Had I followed my gut and insisted on helping her, she wouldn’t be all beaten up, sleeping on my couch right now. Then again, had I interfered when she didn’t want my help, she might not have spoken to me afterward. Now, I think she’ll understand both my motives and the dire need for the additional layer of security.
“Hey Reaper, it’s Nick Tucker. Long time since we’ve talked, my friend.”
“Nick Tucker, it has been way too long. What can I do you for?” Noah Steele, my former employer and longtime fr
iend, is one of the best men I know. He’s never too busy to help out a brother in need.
I explain Savannah’s situation and ask for his expert help to safeguard her condo. He’s particularly interested in hearing about Butch and his ties to the Devils. Noah and his team were there to help during a tight spot when I was undercover. Knowing what those fuckers were capable of, Noah jumps at the chance to help us out.
“Consider it done, Nick. I’ve got a couple of men in the area I’d trust with my life. If Silas is back in DC, I’ll ask him to swing by and try to break in after they’re done. If he can’t get inside, no one can.”
We talk for a while longer, chatting about the crazed news coverage over the notorious outlaw gang and all the nicknames the media outlets have given me, over and above their favorite—the Undercover Hero.
“Special Agent Adonis is my personal favorite.” Noah laughs out loud at my expense.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, man.”
“Brianna said to tell you she likes Undercover Stud Muffin, and she thinks you should change your business cards to match it.” Noah is still laughing, and I hear his wife’s laughter join in on the roast in the background.
“Tell Brianna I said hello.” I will never live this down for the rest of my life.
“Undercover Panty Charmer is Bull’s favorite.”
“Okay, that’s enough running down all my nicknames. I’m sure each of you can add even more humiliating titles to the already long list, but I’ve really had enough of the whole press thing now.”
I’m thinking I should’ve just gone to Home Depot and bought a home monitoring system to install on my own.
“My guys will be there by the first of next week. Is that soon enough?”
“That’s great. She’s staying here with me for a couple of weeks anyway. That’ll give us time to try out the new system and let her get used to it before she goes back home.”
There’s that word again.
Home.
“Speaking of Silas, when will you know if he’s in town?”
“I can try to get a hold of him right now if you need him.”
“If you don’t mind, that’d be great. I need an extra hand from someone I know I can trust for my side project with Butch. We’re all hands on deck as it is, but I can’t leave Savannah unprotected, and I’m sure as hell not letting her tag along. Thanks for your help, Reap.”
“Anytime, my friend. I’ll send Silas in your direction if he’s back on US soil. If not, we’ll figure something else out. I won’t leave you hanging.”
We disconnect and I step into the doorway, checking on Savannah. She’s still sleeping soundly on the couch, wrapped up in the blanket, and I ask myself which moment it was that made me fall so hard for her.
Chapter 11
Savannah
Bad decision #856 of this week alone is insisting we go out on a real date instead of having dinner in my pajamas at Nick’s house. And the personal flaw I can’t seem to move past is my stubborn nature, and that’s preventing me from telling Nick that clothes hurt my ribs even more than breathing does. But our first date is important to me. It feels like we need this milestone to say we have the beginnings of a real relationship, not just a fly-by-night passing.
I can hear the conversation with my mother now.
“So where did Nick take you on your first date?” Asked in the standard judgy-Mom tone.
“To his kitchen, where we had pizza and breadsticks while relaxing in our pajamas. Then we cuddled in his bed until I fell asleep with my cheek on his chest and his arm around me to keep the monsters in the dark from getting to me.”
“That’s not a date, Savannah. That’s a booty call.”
“No one says ‘booty call’ anymore, Mom. It’s called ‘Netflix and chill,’ and we didn’t even watch Netflix. It was an awesome first date, though.”
That’s not exactly the most romantic version of how I’ve pictured our time together. Then again, being in near tears from the clothes squeezing me in the wrong places isn’t exactly romantic either. Even though the temperature is far too cold for me to wear my soft cotton pullover dress, that’s exactly what I’ve decided on. My thick wool overcoat should help shield me from the whipping winds, no longer than the minute or two we’ll be outside. I’ll just hurry as fast as I can in my current state to get from the truck to the door of the restaurant.
Changing clothes takes me an entire ten minutes because every time I move, it hurts more than the last. I’m so screwed.
When I finally sit down at the mirror to put on a little makeup, I realize I need a lot of makeup to hide the rainbow of colors my face is currently sporting. Dabbing carefully, I apply plenty of concealer and foundation, then I even out the tone with a dusting of loose powder. A little blush then some nice eyeshadow round it out.
And, ta-da…all my bruises are still visible. They’re just very well accessorized with other colors now.
Finally dressed, complete with full makeup and my hair styled in a way other than a ponytail or messy bun, I realize there’s absolutely no way I can walk in heels tonight. I grab my thigh-high boots from my available selection of shoes. They’re low-heeled, so I don’t have to worry about tripping over air and hurting myself even worse.
When I finally emerge from the bathroom, Nick whistles a long, low catcall as his eyes drink me in. I feel them skimming across my skin, like light touches from his fingertips all over my body. My insecurities melt away, and excited butterflies flutter in my belly, ready for the first date I’ve had in…years. That realization would actually make me sad, if not for the handsome and sexy man leaning against the doorframe, watching my every move with hungry eyes and waiting to whisk me away for the evening.
“You look absolutely gorgeous. I’ll be the envy of every man in there tonight. Maybe I should just keep you at home instead, so I don’t get into any fights when someone tries to steal you away from me.” He leans over and kisses me softly, and I briefly consider taking him up on that offer.
“There’s no man alive who could take me away from you, Nick. But we should get going before you talk me into the idea of just staying home. Karen is looking forward to meeting you after everything she’s heard about you from Spence and me. If we’re a no-show, she’ll hunt us both down, and it won’t be pretty when she finds us.”
“Only if you’re sure you feel up to it. You sleep with me at night, remember? I know you’re nowhere near healed yet, no matter how much you pretend you’re better off than you really are.”
“You know, it’s a little scary how you can see through me sometimes. You’re right, I’ll probably pay for it later tonight. And when I say I will, I mean you will, too. But…”
“But?” His eyes twinkle like stars in the dark sky. He knows I was about to admit to something that would embarrass me.
“But tonight is important to me. It’s our first date. Even though we’ve spent a lot of time together, and even though I’m sort of even living with you, tonight kind of feels like our beginning.”
He smiles, understanding shining in his eyes, but he slowly shakes his head. “No, darlin’, tonight is not our beginning. Not for me anyway. We began the first day I laid eyes on you, when you captured me with those gorgeous green eyes. Then every morning when we met for coffee and you shared your hopes and dreams for the future with me. Our first official date may be tonight, but I’ve been yours for weeks now. Now that we’ve gotten much better acquainted, I know my feelings for you won’t ever diminish.”
“Nick.” His name comes out on a whisper as I place my hand on his cheek. Tears well up in my eyes, and I fight the intense emotion rising inside me and prevent them from falling. “You have no idea how much that means to me coming from you. But there’s something we should talk about before we go any further. You may change your mind about me.”
“Darlin’, I don’t care about your past or anything you think must be the worst thing in the world. I can guarantee, whatever you have to share isn’t as bad
as some of the things I’ve had to do. I’m not even worried about what you want to tell me. But since it’s important to you, I’ll be glad to listen. Then we’ll get back to our regularly scheduled lives.”
“You make love feel so easy.” I didn’t mean to just blurt out the words, but I couldn’t hold them in any longer. He makes me feel so much—so many feelings that are new and exciting. Hope blooms inside of me like a rare flower in a barren desert.
With lightning speed, he cups my face in his hands and covers my lips with his. With the sweetest, softest kiss, he sets my body ablaze and liquifies me where I stand. He pulls back, emotion swimming in the amber depths of his eyes. “I love you, Savannah. It may seem too soon to some. Others will think it’s because of the situation we’re in, but they’re all wrong. It’s you—the woman I’ve spent mornings, days, and nights with—who has captured my heart. I’m not some young kid who’s never had a real relationship. I’ve made my share of mistakes. But this I can guarantee you, I will never want another after you. If you walk away from me tomorrow, or after fifty years of marriage, no one else will ever have my heart.”
Thinking I’d get out of here this evening without messing up my makeup or my clothes was a silly wish. I’m blubbering like a baby, tears of complete joy that I wouldn’t trade for all the smiles in the world if it meant I never heard those touching words of love from Nick Tucker. Those were meant for just my ears, never to be heard by another woman from his lips. I couldn’t create a better man if I tried, even with a genie and a million wishes.
When we finally arrive at the restaurant, Nick pulls up to the front door and hops out of the truck. He comes around to my side and helps me slide out without too much jarring. “Wait inside where it’s warm, darlin’. I’ll park the truck and be right back.”
My undercover hero.
Karen and Spencer are already inside when I walk in. They’d put our name on the list for a table and are waiting for Nick and me at the bar. Karen is sipping on a glass of water when I step up beside her and wrap my arm around her shoulders.
Fine Line (Crossing Lines Book 1) Page 11