He leaned back as if he, too, suddenly needed space. “I suppose we should check out the ranch, if you’re up for it.”
“I am.”
His gaze filled with concern. “It won’t look like you remember it.”
No, she didn’t suppose it would. “I can handle it.”
“If it’s safe, we can stay there tonight and make arrangements to visit Viper in the morning. Maybe he’ll be awake by visiting hours and be able to tell us who did this to him.” He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “Thanks for the kiss. And don’t worry. You’ll get better with practice.” He winked.
Her jaw dropped. Had he just insulted and dared her again? His mischievous grin told her the answer was yes. He probably thought he was lightening the mood, letting her off the hook for the way she’d almost lost complete control with him, but she couldn’t let his comment slide. “Thanks for the tip, but sometimes, if satisfaction wasn’t achieved, it’s the partner who’s to blame.” She shrugged as if her heart wasn’t pounding to get out of her chest again. The thought of practicing with Jared did wonders for her imagination. “But cheer up. I’m not to everyone’s taste.”
“Some tastes are acquired over time. And I hope we’ll be spending a lot of time together.” He reached a hand up as if he might touch her face. At the last second, he paused, then traced her bottom lip with one long finger. His eyes sparkled with heat and the light of battle.
Oh God, what was she doing, playing with fire? She was so out of her depth. And yet, she’d never felt so alive.
“She came with him,” Tristan said on the other end of their phone conversation.
Finn watched Loretta try to build a fire. He was teaching them basic survival techniques—not in case they survived, since there was no chance in hell he could let that happen, but in case the hunt lasted more than a day. The challenge was always more fun that way. Loretta was a quick learner. He wondered if Skye had helped train her at the ranch.
But Skye and Jared had joined forces? Damn it.
“Taking Skye was going to be challenge enough,” Tristan said. “Now we have to deal with the bodyguard?”
When had Tristan turned into such a pansy-ass worrier? Finn sighed. “Just stay out of sight. You don’t want her to recognize you.”
“Why not?”
Because she knows you attacked her ranch. “You’re supposed to be long gone, remember? And you don’t want Viper to suspect you’re the one who put him in the damn hospital.”
“I’m keeping my distance.”
Finn was betting Skye would want to stay close to Viper until he was out of the woods. They just had to get Jared away from her. Divide and conquer. He’d been saving a certain useful bit of information about Jared Bennigan. It was time to use it.
He wanted Skye in his stable, tonight—without Jared in tow. That guy was a complication he didn’t need, but it was all part of the game, if he thought about it.
Patience. Preparation. Anticipation.
Live fearlessly and play ferociously.
It was that last part he liked the best.
Chapter Thirteen
Skye was lost in thought as she drove west from Flagstaff toward the ranch. She’d convinced Jared that she should drive Phil Barton’s truck back to Three Fortunes while he followed in his SUV. A glance at the rearview told her he was still right behind her as she exited the interstate. Ahead, the sun was getting low in the sky.
She was grateful for the time to think, and to rebuild her defenses. The kiss had shaken her, and so did the desire for another one. Or more. Leaving an unconscious, but guarded, Viper at the hospital and wondering if Uncle Tom was in the same predicament somewhere, without help, only put her more on edge. She checked her phone as she pulled onto the ranch property, but there was still no message from Tom. She refused to revisit all the reasons he might not have been able to check in with the message service.
The electricity that normally charged the security fence had been permanently cut, but the main house had suffered only minor external damage from stray bullets. As she got out of the vehicle, Skye was trying not to feel homesick. It seemed ridiculous, considering she was home. But it reminded her what she’d had a short time ago, and what she’d lost. Standing in the kitchen brought a strange mix of nostalgia and tension, since it was the place Jared had asked her to trust him, asked her to call him, and she’d refused, going out on her own instead.
It creeped her out that the house she’d lived in for so many years was partly owned by Robert Stone, a man who made movies, got rich off the extravagant spending of others, and took advantage of beautiful, vulnerable young women. Stone was everything Tom Hamilton had professed to despise.
Had Mark Sheldon been targeted on purpose, because he’d dared to go after Stone? Had Tristan betrayed his own, shot Mark, and then pursued Viper? And what about Uncle Tom?
“Maybe I should call my uncle again,” she said as Jared joined her. “Leave another message. Or hang out in Williams or Ash Fork, see if I can pick up a lead on anyone else from Three Fortunes. Someone had to see something.”
Jared cupped her chin and eyed her critically. “I think you need a breather. I’m going to change and go for a run, check out the property.”
She nibbled her lip. She could use a bit more alone time to sort things out in her head. The powerful emotions stirred by seeing Viper in the hospital, and by Jared’s kiss, had her confused.
After making sure the house was clear, Jared changed, though he kept his gun close at hand in a holster, and went for a jog to check out the premises.
In the kitchen, she unpacked the groceries they’d picked up in town, but she wasn’t hungry. Instead, she felt antsy, amped up. There were ghosts here.
Through the kitchen window, her gaze landed on the spot in the yard where Darren had died. Who’d wanted him to take her down? Stone had already convinced her uncle to turn his back on her. Why would he then attack the ranch he owned?
Viper had been wounded somewhere around here, too, possibly at Stone’s hands—or, rather, at the hands of hired men such as Darren and Tristan. Men who owed Stone some kind of debt, if that’s what the torn cards were all about. Skye had been their redemption, which meant Stone wanted her. But for what?
The incessant questions, the memories of that night of destruction and chaos, made her twitchy. She hadn’t had a good workout in days.
After a quick change, she headed outside to stretch her legs. Even in April, the late afternoon could get cool in the high country, and a chill spiked the air and stung her skin. She’d knotted a sweatshirt around her waist but preferred the sleeveless tank top and leggings she wore beneath. The cold was invigorating against her bare arms.
As she crossed the open yard to where the barn had been, she ignored the tightness in her throat, focusing on picking her way across the debris. Viper’s Pit was no more. The gym where she’d trained all her life to stand strong and fight for what she believed in had been burned down to the concrete block on which it had stood.
An unexpected jolt of loss hit her like a punch to the gut. She bent over at the waist, her hands braced above her knees as she gasped for air, feeling as if she’d just run a race. Expletives ran through her head as she cursed her enemy. Why had Stone’s men done this?
“You okay?” Jared’s voice startled her.
She straightened and spun to face him, taking in his sweatpants and damp T-shirt. Sweat formed a V on his chest and he was breathing more heavily than normal. “I will be when we castrate Robert Stone and Tristan Floyd.” She’d hang their balls from the ranch’s gate.
“I hope you get your chance.” He looked over the charred foundation. “At least there were only two casualties, and one of them was his own man.”
“Darren Boscoe. I haven’t found anything about him yet.”
“There are two listed in the Vegas area, but I have yet to look into them further. That was going to be today’s plan.” Before he
’d dropped everything to help her.
“I hope everyone else got away, and I’m grateful someone found Viper in time to get him help.” She balled up her fists as anger and frustration swarmed her. They’d been ambushed, and it had been her fault. All of this destruction couldn’t be simple retaliation because she’d spied on Stone in Malibu. There had to be something more going on.
Jared took one of her hands between his and pried her fingers open. “I can help you relieve that pent-up stress.”
Her breath caught. Her gaze shot to his mouth. Was he suggesting…?
“I saw some sparring gloves in the shed out back,” he said before the flush creeping up her neck could give her carnal thoughts away. He grinned. “Along with all the ammo stored there.”
“We were always prepared for anything…” Her words drifted off as she realized how utterly unprepared they’d been for Stone. Still, he hadn’t won. Not yet, anyway. They’d survived so far, and she’d come back swinging.
“We could spar on that flat patch of land off the back porch.” Near where Darren had died. The sympathetic twist of his lips told her Jared was aware of the direction of her thoughts. “We’ll replace the bad energy with good.”
She swallowed and pulled her hand away, tossing him a casual grin to disguise her deeper turmoil. “As long as this offer isn’t out of pity. I won’t go easy on you.” The thought of punching someone, even Jared’s handsome face, had definite appeal.
“Not pity. Foresight. I’m going to learn all your tricks so you can’t escape me again.” Jared’s grin told her he was teasing.
“Probably not all of them.”
“Then you’re agreeing to a match?” He looked like a little boy who’d just been given a new toy.
“Sure, but I feel compelled to warn you. I know how to fight dirty.”
Jared realized his mistake the moment Skye landed a right hook, then followed the move by wrapping her left leg around his knee and throwing her body at him, using the momentum of her own weight to take him to the ground.
Or maybe he’d made the mistake the moment he’d approached her after his run. He should have just gone inside for a shower. But he hadn’t been immune to the way she’d hugged herself as she looked forlornly over the ruined buildings. This had been her home, all she had of her family, and he knew how hard it was to lose someone or something one loved.
He enjoyed igniting the spark of challenge in her eyes, and their first couple minutes of light punches and dancing around the makeshift ring in the grass had been almost enjoyable, flooding him with adrenaline. But when she took him to the ground and climbed on top… Holy hell, it was lust that flooded him now.
He dredged up an old martial arts technique and flipped her to her back in the grass, then hastily shifted so she wouldn’t feel his arousal. He pushed to a standing position and took several steps back. But she came at him again, tossing off her gloves to fight barehanded, and giving him no time to gather his wits. She was a formidable opponent.
“Skye, maybe we should stop.” He pulled off his own gloves.
But she was on him like sugar on candy, and he’d barely blocked a couple of blows before she was again trying to take him down. His training superseded the logical portion of his brain and he maneuvered her until he’d backed her against the house. How had they ended up across the yard? Damn, the woman jumbled his thoughts. And overwhelmed his senses—another tool in her arsenal.
His body pinned hers to the wall. “Just give me a second.”
She was merciless and hooked a leg around him, going for his knee again, but he shifted and stopped her, using his weight to keep her still. Her eyes went wide as his pelvis aligned with hers.
“Um, yeah, I told you to give me a second.” He could see that she felt the hard ridge beneath his sweatpants. But he wouldn’t let her go now and risk her taking him down again. That would be humiliating. Besides, he liked feeling her pressed up against him.
“Is that because of me or the fighting?”
He released a harsh laugh. “That’s all you.” Did the woman not see what she did to him? For Christ’s sake, he’d first kissed her in a hospital supply closet. He obviously lacked willpower where she was concerned.
He sucked in several breaths tinged with the sharp scent of the junipers that dotted the property, light sweat, and the always-present hint of jasmine. It had to be her shampoo, and it made him want to bury his nose in her hair to confirm his theory.
“Really?” She licked her lips.
“Really. So, uh, maybe you could unwrap your leg from mine?” She still had one leg hooked around his. He slid a hand from where it gripped her arm, down to her thigh, stopping at her knee.
But instead of cooperating, she bent her knee further, pulling him even closer against her, fully aligning her body with his. At the same time, she slid her hands around his waist and up his back.
“Show me what you can do, soldier.” She touched her mouth to his.
He started slow, unsure if this was a trick, some distraction so that she could take him down to the ground again. Using his lust against him would be a cruel joke—and a magnificent tactical move, especially since she’d confessed she fought dirty. But she seemed content to cling to him. A soft moan reverberated from her chest through his, which was now pressed against her beautiful breasts. Her fingers slid up into his hair and he shivered. His tongue darted out to trace the line of her lips and she opened to him with a sigh of surrender.
His resistance broke. The kiss went from hot to sizzling as her tongue launched a battle with his, tasting and assessing, like some kind of recon mission. It was different from the vulnerability he’d sensed from her yesterday at the hospital. This was the strong, curious, adventurous Skye, and he was happy to let her explore.
She nearly crawled up his body, still anchoring herself with her leg and using her hands to hold onto his head. His blood pumped harder, his need growing as she let him deepen the kiss, then returned his passion with a wildness that spurred him.
Suddenly, she turned her head to the side, breaking contact. With her lips, at least. There was no room for her to retreat, and her head thunked against the wall behind her. Her leg went lax and he released his grip on her knee so she could lower it.
She worked to catch her breath, her eyes searching his face. He had no answers for the chemistry between them. It simply was. But in her wide eyes, he saw the confusion and wariness their hunger generated.
Welcome to the club. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt such an instant physical connection to a woman. Certainly not in recent memory. But because he could see her shields already slamming shut and locking into place, he decided to lighten the mood.
“Guess the training got to you, too? Or was it me?” He winked.
“Definitely the training.” Her grin wobbled. She licked her lips and he nearly leaned in for another taste. But he had the feeling she’d taken enough big steps today. It was better to leave her wanting more, and give her time to sort out her feelings.
He could use some time himself.
Skye paced the kitchen, feeling sweaty and grimy but exhilarated after pounding on Jared.
Oh hell, so it was the kiss that had her energized.
But she was also unsatisfied and restless. Nobody made her feel vulnerable like that, especially twice in one day, and got away with it.
A moment later, the creak of floorboards from upstairs ceased, replaced with the sound of pipes running water to the shower. Where Jared was currently naked.
Who was he to take over her life, her house, and her hormones? Who was Jared Bennigan, really? She only had his word, and what information he’d given her, to go on. And lately, everyone she’d thought was trustworthy wasn’t. The people she’d counted on in her life had held things back or disappeared, leaving her alone. How could she trust that Jared wouldn’t do the same?
You can’t trust anyone. Uncle Tom’s constant reminder rattled around her br
ain, feeding off her adrenaline.
Skye paced the kitchen for several long moments. The shower was still running. It was now or never. Making her decision, she hurried to her uncle’s bedroom, which she’d lent to Jared for the night.
An orange slice of sunset broke through the part in the heavy drapes and now slanted across the bed, where his change of clothes had been carefully folded and stacked. A reluctant smile tugged at Skye’s lips. Definitely a military man.
She shot a glance at the closed bathroom door, and a shot of anticipation rushed through her at the sound of Jared in the shower. Her adrenaline rush wasn’t entirely due to her snooping expedition.
Spying his wallet on top of the dresser, she went to it, telling herself it wasn’t an invasion of privacy if it led to her trusting him further. Besides, restoring her trust in herself and her instincts was top priority.
The leather trifold lay open, as if inviting her to take a look. She surveyed his driver’s license, which had been issued in Nevada, and a couple credit cards. Looking through the cash compartment, she ignored the money and stopped as her fingers brushed a thicker piece of paper. A photo? God, maybe he had a wife and kid stashed away. Or, at the very least, a fiancée. A man with Jared’s attributes didn’t stay single for long. Unless by choice.
She pulled out the paper and froze. No. It couldn’t be.
Bracing her shaky legs as a red haze of anger threatened to suck her under like a riptide, she held the half-card up to the light. The two of hearts stared back at her, and she nearly laughed at the irony of the number and suit.
He wanted her to trust him, to be his partner, and yet he had a card. Rather, half a card, with a jagged edge where someone had ripped it from its mate.
A card like Darren’s.
And Tristan’s.
And anyone else who owed Stone some kind of warped debt.
You’re my redemption, Darren had said. When he’d failed, had she become Jared’s problem—his redemption?
Stacking the Deck (Redemption Club Book 1) Page 17