He looked entirely too pleased with himself. “No worries. Your turn.”
Noelle studied him from the corner of her eye, let her gaze drift along his jaw, the curve of his lips. He had a gorgeous profile, she thought. Simply breathtaking. “What’s the strangest twin connection thing that’s ever happened to you?”
He hesitated, shot her a look and groaned. “Oh, hell.”
“You’ve got to answer,” she said. “Those were the rules and you didn’t call out of bounds.”
“I know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
He looked like he’d rather cut out his own tongue than answer her, which naturally made her all the more curious.
“This must be really good,” she said. “You’re wriggling like a worm on a hook.”
“It’s personal,” he said.
“Everything is personal, Judd.”
“Yes, but this is different because it says more about him than it does me. It was something that I felt—that manifested,” he added significantly, his gaze boring into hers. “But it was as a result of his feelings, you see? His feelings. Not mine.” He passed a hand over his face, looked away and swore again. “I haven’t even told him,” he said. “Because it would embarrass him.”
Hmm. “Are you violating the terms of our agreement?”
He arched a hopeful brow. “What’s the punishment if I do?”
“Something horrible,” she said, her tone dire. “Something truly heinous.”
He laughed. “And ambiguous it sounds.”
“But worse than that, you’ll have to live with the fact that you didn’t keep your word.”
He winced again, looked away, indecision gnawing at him. “Oh, hell. Fine,” he said. “I’ll tell you. The first time Judd slept with his wife Sophie, his feelings for her were so...potent that I awoke from a dead sleep, oceans away on the island of Crete, with a hard-on.”
Noelle felt her eyes nearly bug out of her head. “Seriously?”
“That’s another question,” he told her. “It pertains to the original and it’s not your turn.”
He was right, curse him. Another thought struck and she gasped. His text message from his brother, immediately following their vanity sex. Had his brother— Oh, good Lord. Surely not. How mortifying. How miserably embarrassing. How...flattering, she realized. If they shared strong emotion, then that could only mean that he’d really felt something for her. Not just the sex, but their sex. She inwardly preened.
He sent her a mistrustful look. “You look too happy,” he said grimly.
“Too happy? What a horrible thing to say.”
“You know what I mean.” And she did.
“Your turn.”
He chewed the inside of his cheek, clearly trying to come up with something that was going to throw her. “What are you most looking forward to doing after you testify?”
She opened her mouth to respond and then snapped it shut. “Er...”
“You’ve got to answer,” he said, throwing the rules back at her.
“I know,” she said. “I’m thinking. Honestly, I’ve been so busy just trying to make it to the trial that I haven’t given much thought to what I’ll do after it.”
“I can see where that would be the case. But it still doesn’t answer my question.”
She struggled, shrugged. “I guess just going home—rebuilding my home,”s he added significantly.
“Right. The fire,” he said. “Was it terribly damaged?”
“Foul,” she cried. “You can’t ask that.”
“Fine,” he groused good-naturedly. “But it was an innocent question.”
“Maybe so,” she told him, shrugging. “But it’s my turn.”
He grew quiet, waiting.
“Ever been in a serious relationship, engaged or married?”
He turned to look at her, his expression a curious mix of guarded and droll. “That sounds like three questions rolled into one.”
“It’s not,” she argued. “It asks the same thing without allowing you to split hairs.”
A muscle worked in his jaw as he tried to find a way to wiggle out of a direct answer. He finally sighed. “Engaged once, which would qualify as a serious relationship, but never married.”
Interesting. Had the mystery woman he’d proposed to broken his heart? Noelle wondered, suddenly blindsided with the idea of pummeling the hell out of someone she didn’t know and, in all likelihood, would never meet. Jealousy tangled so thoroughly around her heart, she could feel it constricting with rage inside her chest.
“I’m not going to elaborate,” he said. “It’s ancient history. I was young and stupid. In college,” he added. “And she was a miserable conniving bitch who was more interested in my trust fund than me.”
She grinned pointedly. “I thought you weren’t going to elaborate.”
He blinked, then swore. “So that’s the trick, huh?” “It’s the need to explain,” she told him. “We all need to rationalize.”
They strolled on, hand in hand, the sun sinking lower and lower below the mountains. Dusky orange light painted the sky and backlit the trees, making them look like they were on fire. It was nice, Noelle thought. Just being with him like this. Easy, even. “We’d better start heading back,” he said.
She nodded in agreement, then spied a familiar car going over the bridge. She jerked her head in that direction. “Looks like Chad and Marissa are back again,” she said. “Doing a repeat of their social experiment.”
“Oh, is that what the kids are calling it these days?” he deadpanned.
Noelle chuckled. “I hope they’re using protection. Little fools.”
“They’re young and invincible and smarter than everyone else,” he drawled. “Of course, they’re not using protection.”
“Maybe we should bring them some.” She scattered leaves with the tip of her makeshift walking stick. “The Ranger security wives put condoms in my care package.”
He drew up short and stared at her. “They what?”
Noelle laughed at his incredulous expression. “Oh, dear. Has your honor been called into question?”
“What? No, it’s just—”
“Forward thinking,” she said. “I mistook you for a stripper when you first walked in and I’m passably attractive. Two hot-blooded single people—one of them newly returned from military service—forced under threat of death into close proximity.” She lifted a lazy shoulder. “Alas, the odds were not in our favor.”
He slowed, turned to look at her, his expression suddenly flat and unreadable. “So you’re saying that either one of us could have been replaced with someone else and had the same outcome?”
She blinked, gasped as realization dawned and shook her head. “God, no. Sorry, that’s not what I meant at all. I just meant that, on the surface, it was a reasonable conclusion to make.”
“Right.” He resumed walking, his face still blank, his lips compressed.
Was he jealous? she wondered. Or were his feelings merely hurt because he suspected he might not have had the magical penis to end all penises? Either way, his feelings were obviously hurt, and it made her feel awful.
She tugged at his hand, forcing him to slow. “Judd, really. That came out wrong. That’s not what I meant at all. Today was—” She wracked her brain for the right words. “You are—” She swore. Dammit, this was hard. “Today was special. Unmatched,” she added softly. “Better than any other day ever. Ever,” she repeated. “Couldn’t you tell?” she asked smally, feeling her face heat.
A slow grin drifted lazily across his face. “You’re blushing.”
“It happens occasionally,” she conceded. “You’ve got one question left,” she reminded him. “Or had you forgotten?”
“I hadn’t forgotten. I’m merely biding my time. You didn’t mention an expiration date on my remaining question. I can save it, right?”
She winced, hesitated. “I’d rather you didn’t,” she hedged. It was a brilliant strategy. She wished
she’d thought of it.
“Is it against the rules?”
“No.”
He squeezed her hand. “Then I’m going to hold on to it for a while longer. Who knows what I might need to know later?”
She sighed heavily. Who knew, indeed?
“I bet you feel like kicking yourself,” he remarked, a self-satisfied smile sliding over his lips.
“I feel like kicking you," she said. “It’s taking an enormous amount of energy to refrain.”
Their cabin loomed into view, the porch lights ablaze from the front. Lilo and Stitch were sitting side by side in the window, patiently waiting for their return.
“Look,” he drawled. “Your tiny cats are glaring at us.”
She chuckled. “They’re not glaring,” she chided. “They’re looking. And they’re tiny because they’re dwarves,” she added. “They can’t help their size any more than you can help yours.” They’d been a little standoffish to Judd and, though she’d never admit it to him, there was something a little unnerving about their unblinking stares. It made her wonder what they thought. What they could see.
His eyebrows climbed his forehead. “Dwarves?”
“Yes. I’d suspected when I got them, but my vet confirmed it a few weeks ago. They’re not going to get much bigger. Well, their legs and paws, anyway. Their bodies might grow a little more.”
“Wow,” he said, allowing her to mount the steps ahead of him. “I’ve never heard of that before.”
“It’s rare, though there are breeders who purposely try to encourage the condition.”
He grimaced as he opened the door. “That’s horrible.”
“I know.” Lilo and Stitch bounded over, yowled loudly and curled around her legs. “Evidently there is a profit in it.”
“Dwarves,” he repeated, chuckling softly under his breath. He glanced up, caught her stare. “I guess that makes you Snow White after all.”
She blinked. “Come again?”
His expression suddenly changed and a predatory light glinted in his black eyes, making a thrill whip through her. She knew that look and so did the rest of her. Her belly quivered and need ballooned inside of her, stealing her breath as she met his gaze.
“You bet,” he promised. “Right now.” Then he stepped forward and slung her over his shoulder once again, making her squeal in delight in the process, then bounded up the stairs.
“How do you feel about taking a bath?” he asked.
Her pulse leapt in her veins. Him, naked and wet. Hers to explore, to taste. To slip and slide all over.
“Depends,” she said. “Are we going to get dirty before or after?”
"During,” he said. “And I’ve hidden all the towels.”
Chapter 13
Judd’s booted foot had no sooner hit the last step when his cell phone went off. He carefully plopped Noelle onto the bed, then quickly grabbed the device from his waist.
Payne.
He glanced at Noelle, who was watching nervously, before answering. “Anderson,” he said by way of greeting.
“Judd, I have news,” he said.
He winced. Braced himself. “Is it good?”
“It is for your client. D.A. Stark got the trial date moved up. She testifies day after tomorrow. Friday.”
Judd stilled. “Friday?”
“That’s right.”
“You’ll do the official hand-off at 8:00 a.m. on Friday morning. I’d suggest moving into a location closer to Mossy Ridge ahead of time to lessen your drive, but since you’ve avoided detection I think it would be better to wait. Perhaps Ms. Montgomery wouldn’t mind taking a nap in the car on the way in while you drive.”
Judd knew he was new to the security business, but something about that plan rang false. Unnecessary, even. His spidey senses tingled. “Is there more?” he asked.
A simple, but effective way to get to the truth. “As it happens, yes, “ Payne said, his voice guarded. “Are you alone?”
“Not at the moment, no.”
“Then be careful how you respond and I’ll leave the dissemination of information to you. I’ve had an odd call here. Someone claiming to be an assistant of Ed Johnson’s wanted a status briefing on this case. This person wanted the contact information of the agent in charge.”
Judd swore. He knew for a fact that Ed trusted no one, that he’d made it quite clear that he and he alone was the only person who was supposed to be regularly informed on this case and that his contact would be limited to avoid an unnecessary mistake which might result in a “poor outcome”—as in dead—for Noelle.
His gaze inexplicably slid to where she sat perched on the bed. She’d pulled her shoes off, scooted back against the headboard and had drawn her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Lilo and Stitch gamboled around her, batting at a long curly strand of her fiery hair.
An odd pain winged through his chest as he looked at her, swelled to the point he could barely speak. He cleared his throat. “Have you been able to ID the caller?”
“Not yet,” Payne admitted. “Naturally, he gave a false name, but the phone software pinged it as a Mossy Ridge number.”
“And what does Ed say?”
“Ed’s livid. He says he told no one who he hired, not even his wife. He’s rattled that the information has been compromised.”
Understandably so, Judd thought.
“This caller was smooth, Judd. Had 1 not known exactly what we were dealing with here, 1 might have believed him. He was that good. And the further into the conversation we got, when it became increasingly clear that he wasn’t going to get the information he wanted, he became frantic and irrational.”
Judd’s eyes narrowed fractionally, then he jerked his head toward the door, indicating that he’d take the rest of the call in private, before leaving the room and lowering his voice. “You think it’s the same guy who has been after her all along?”
They’d suspected that a single man had been responsible for the attacks on her life, simply because had two people been working on it, they might have succeeded already. They’d also suspected it was an amateur at work, for the very same reason. This fit.
“1 do,” he said. “And this guy isn’t a natural born killer. He sounds like a desperate soccer dad who owes the wrong people, is above suspicion and over a barrel.”
Judd swore, looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows and watched the last of the sun slip below the horizon. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Desperate men are unpredictable.”
Payne concurred. “And dangerous. This could be anybody, Judd. Anybody. My guess is that this is someone Noelle knows, might even trust. If she saw this person, she’d never assume that he meant her harm.”
“Are we certain we trust Stark?” Judd asked. “Because I don’t want to do the transfer at the last minute for the D.A. to screw this up and get her killed.” He didn’t want to let her out of his sight. He wanted to wrap her in Kevlar and personally escort her into the courthouse, then vet every person who came into the courtroom himself.
And what was supposed to happen post trial? After her testimony? This entire time they’d all been laboring under the assumption that she’d be safe once she’d given her testimony, that there would be no benefit to her death afterward because the damage would have been done.
But this was Tubby Winchester. He was a damned nut with a vindictive streak a mile wide—hell, he’d killed Rupert Nichols because the man had refused to stock his favorite ketchup. A sickening feeling of dread invaded his belly.
She’d never be safe, Judd thought. Even with Tubby behind bars, without some other form of protection, without some other form of resolution, she’d always be ducking and hiding, always looking over her shoulder.
It was a damned shitty way to live.
“Every bit of information I have on Stark suggests that he hasn’t misrepresented himself at all. He’s been waiting for years for a slam dunk case to take Tubby out of the picture. He’s certain that if he takes
the head—Tubby, I mean—then the rest of his crime body will twitch for a little while, but ultimately die.”
That made sense, he supposed. Still...”1 don’t want to hand her off,” Judd told him. “I want to do the escort personally.”
Silence stretched across the line while Payne presumably mulled that telling statement over. He’d just tipped his hand, but so what? He couldn’t let her go, not when he needed to be there to protect her. “I think that’s for the best. I’ll alert Stark.”
“One day of testimony, right?”
“Provided the defense finishes with her,” Payne told him.
“They’d better,” he said grimly. Because he was taking her the hell out of there the minute she finished. He didn’t know where, he didn’t know how, really, at this point. He just knew that she wasn’t going to be safe—permanently safe, anyway—until he could mine a solution from his suddenly seizing brain to make her that way.
“I’m assuming you’ve inspected your weapon,” Payne remarked levelly. He was aware, of course, of the true reason he’d left the military.
“I have,” he said. “And, should the need to use it become essential, then I’m confident I can carry out my duty to our client.” And he was. He’d been hired to protect her, dammit.
“I never doubted it,” Payne told him.
Then that made one of them, Judd thought, swallowing at the vote of confidence. He’d been relatively certain that he could pick up a gun, aim and fire it if he had to on her behalf, but a sliver of doubt had remained in the back of his mind, a taunting reminder of his previous inability to do so.
Not anymore.
He’d pick off anyone who threatened her, Judd thought. Without a second thought or a moment’s hesitation. He knew it. Felt the resolve firmly in his fingers.
“Keep me posted,” he said. “I’ve got this.”
Payne agreed, then disconnected. He turned then to go back into the bedroom and saw Noelle standing in the bedroom doorway. He heaved a sigh. He should have known that she wouldn’t sit still, that she’d want to listen in.
It was her life on the line, after all. He could hardly fault her for that.
Over the Top (Ranger Security Book 2) Page 12