Head Start (Cedar Tree #7)

by Freya Barker

  “Relax,” I try, but her head snaps around and her eyes shoot sparks.

  “Relax? Don’t tell me to relax—I have to call my sister. She’s got profiles up on more than one site.” Her gaze meets mine and something in my eyes must alarm her. “That’s why you warned me yesterday. You think...is he...?”

  “He’s likely just a legitimate asshole.” I tell her the same thing I told Mal. “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about, but let’s not take any chances. I’ll make sure a note is added to our file, and in the meantime, we’re going to have to let Gomez know about the website. We’ll leave it to the FBI to decide what to do with the information. And like I said earlier, you need to let me know should the guy try to contact you again.”

  “Ahhhh, I can’t believe this is happening,” she moans with her face in her hands. “It’s embarrassing enough, you finding out I’d resorted to dating sites, but now everyone’s gonna know.”

  I grab her by the shoulders and lightly shake her. “Knock it off. No one’s gonna care. Everyone’s much more concerned about stopping whoever is taking these women.” That quiets her down.

  “You’re right,” she whispers, her fingers pressed against her lips. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  The moment I see tears forming in her eyes, I stand up, taking her with me, and walk us inside. In the kitchen, I reach for a towel and wet it under the tap. Tears are now rolling freely down her face, and I quietly wipe them away, waiting for her to compose herself. I think things may have just gotten a bit too real.

  “Better?” I ask as the flow of tears seems to slow down. She’s not looking at me but gives me a sharp nod in response.

  “I’m an idiot,” she mumbles against my chest when I pull her in my arms. For once, she doesn’t resist me.

  “You’re not an idiot. This is not a normal situation.” I notice with great satisfaction when she slips her arms around my waist, fisting the shirt on my back. “We may well be over vigilant, but better safe than sorry. And even contemplating the possibility of something like this touching your life is a shock to the system. Most of us don’t ever have to deal with ugly realities like this in our lives.”

  “How did you get so wise?” she asks, leaning back to look at me in surprise. It almost makes me laugh.

  “You forget this is my work. Spending years overseas in the military helped. I have seen and still see enough human aberration and cruelty to last me a few lifetimes.” I know I’ve let too much of myself show when she looks at me strangely. Her hand comes up to rest in the middle of my chest.

  “What happened to you?” she asks softly.

  I can’t answer that. I wish I could. “Life, Pup. Life happened.” It’s the best I can do.

  She slightly tilts her head when she asks, “How old are you exactly?”

  I instantly release her and step away. Fucking seriously? We’re back here again? My frustration must be visible because she reaches to stop me with her hand on my arm.

  “Why the fuck does a bloody number matter so much to you? Every time I think we’re getting somewhere, you throw my age in my face, like it’s some kind of blemish. What the fuck am I supposed to do about that, huh? The one thing I can’t change.”

  I pull my arm from her grip, turn around and walk right out of there. This whole screwed-up situation is too high octane for my blood right now and I need to cool off. But I don’t get very far.

  “Wait!” Kendra comes running out of the house after me just as I’m getting into my truck. “Please, don’t go. I...I didn’t mean anything by it. Can I please explain?”

  Goddammit. She’s hanging on to my door, her face pale and biting her bottom lip with a vengeance. I reach out and pull her lip free with my thumb. “Don’t do that,” I tell her softly, already regretting my outburst. I know people are lulled into thinking I’m a laid back guy—I work hard at it—but when it comes to things that are important to me, I can have an explosive temper. Yet another piece of myself I’d rather keep from her. I’m fucking up.

  “Please come inside.” Her voice is soft, pleading, and it pulls at me.

  I drop my head and hit it on the steering wheel a few times before sliding back out of the truck and following her inside.

  Kendra

  I’m so relieved when I hear his footsteps behind me. I hadn’t expected that kind of reaction to the question that simply popped out. Listening to him, realizing there was so much more to him than the person I’d made him out to be, had prompted me to ask about his age. The moment I hear the door close, I swing around to face him.

  I watch him linger just inside the door and take a few steps closer. “You surprised me, just now. I know it’s my own fault, never wanting to look beyond the surface. I’ve been too hung up on my own...issues to look any closer.” I shake my head to clear it, hoping to find the words to explain. “There’s more to you than I’ve given you credit for. Oh,” I add quickly, seeing the clench of his jaw. “I think I’ve always known, which is a big reason why it seemed safer not to look too deep.”

  He’s been quietly watching me struggle through my words, and I’m not sure I’m making any sense, but something must have stirred him, because he takes a step toward me.

  “I’ve purposely kept you at a distance. Because of our age difference, I let the red flag fly high. Honestly? I think it’s the only thing that I can make into enough of a reason to push you away.” At my words, Neil moves in even closer, only a step away. The look on his face is intense, but no longer angry, and I decide to open up a little more. Before I have a chance to open my mouth, he beats me to it.

  “I’ll be thirty-two next month.”

  Eight years. Not as bad as the twelve years I thought separated us. Still, eight years.

  “I’m forty,” I tell him stupidly.

  “I know, and I don’t give a flying fuck,” he says fiercely before adding, “and neither should you.”

  “You don’t understand,” I try to explain. “I...my mother...she...” Neil closes the distance between us and cups my face in his hands.

  “I. Don’t. Care.”

  I don’t have a chance to say anything before his mouth hits mine, effectively cutting off any other communication. One of his hands slides in my hair, cupping the back of my head, while the other runs down over my shoulder and around to the small of my back where he presses me to his body. Holy fudgesticks. His body leaves me with no doubt as to his desire for me. The prominent evidence is pressing in my stomach. There’s also no way I can deny what he does to my own body. Heat tingles over my skin from wherever we are touching, converging in a needy throb between my legs. His mouth—Jesus, his mouth. Soft in touch but hard in demand, with his tongue claiming my own dominantly while his gentle lips slip over mine. Bliss.

  “I’m not gonna fuck this up,” he mumbles as he slowly pulls his mouth from mine. I can’t stop the little moan that escapes me at the loss of his lips. “As you can well tell, I want nothing more than to throw you over my shoulder, take you upstairs to that big ass bed I spent an hour putting together, and feast on you. But I’m not going to push.”

  All I can think is push, please push, but I don’t say a word when he presses those freaking fantastic lips against my forehead and walks to the door.

  “I’ll be back later. I have to head over to the office to pick up a few things and get some information to Gus. I also need a clear head, and right now there’s not enough blood left up here for that.” The little smile tilting his mouth slightly is cocky, and combined with his words, hot as heck. “Call me if you need me. I won’t be more than a couple of hours.” With that, he walks out the door.

  Okay. What just happened here? I’m still trying to process that kiss, and the fact that kisses from Neil seem to carry more punch than a lifetime of half-assed sexual experiences. He’s coming back? I don’t know what that means, what to expect.

  Over the next hour or so, I do my best not to think too much as I put away my clothes, make the bed and finish emptying
a few boxes. When I unwrap my favorite family picture—Karly, Mom and I with our arms wrapped around each other, smiling at the camera—I suddenly remember they’re leaving tonight. I grab my phone off the kitchen counter where I’d left it to charge and check the time. I quickly dial my sister’s number, hoping I’ll be able to catch them before they’re off on their cruise. The phone rings and rings, until her message comes on. Dagnabbit. I dial my mom’s next. Same result. After trying Karly’s phone again without success, I leave her a brief message for either of them to call me if they haven’t left yet.

  I know I’m being paranoid, but I want to warn my sister in particular to stay off her favored dating and chat sites for a while. It was she who suggested I set up a profile in the first place. I curse myself that I didn’t immediately call to give her a heads up. They must have just left. They were supposed to fly to Fort Lauderdale tonight and were scheduled to embark early tomorrow. Although it does settle my nerves to know that they will be safely away on a ship.

  Regardless, I’m restless. I’ve put away most of my stuff—all that remains is to hang up some frames and pictures—but plan to work on those tomorrow. I realize I’m fretting. About what is happening with Neil. About some maniac out there who is harming women. And about a bouquet of flowers. I’m suddenly in need of some air.

  With just my old jean jacket on to ward off that spring evening chill that sets in when the sun starts to drop, I snag my keys and lock up behind me. A walk is what I need so I take off to explore the neighborhood. As opposed to Cortez, all the houses in Cedar Tree have a decent amount of property around them. The town is not on a major thoroughfare like Cortez is, and therefore there is plenty of space. With a population of about six hundred people, and no major industries, it’s not likely it will grow by much, although from what Naomi tells me, what used to be an aging population is slowly being replaced with younger families. At the end of the street, a trail leads into the hills to the south. I’m heading that way when my phone starts ringing. I almost jump out of my shoes before pulling it from my pocket.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m at the house and you’re not here.”

  “Observant,” I smart off, trying to hide my jumpiness.

  Neil’s response is more like a growl. “Kendra.”

  “Oh fine. I needed to get out, and was on that trail at the end of the street. I’m turning back now. Happy?”

  “Very.” That’s the only thing he says before hanging up. How very irritating. I start back down the trail at a brisk pace, tucking my phone back in my pocket.

  Before I even get back to the street, a tall figure is turning onto the trail, long strides eating up the distance.

  “Christ, you test me,” Neil says when he reaches me, grabs my elbow and starts walking back.

  Wait. What?

  “Sorry? You call, I come straight back. How is that testing you? And who the fuzzbuckets do you think you are anyway?” I’m working up a head of steam, being half dragged down the trail and onto the sidewalk. Neil makes no signs of stopping, so I stop for him, planting both my feet and simultaneously pulling back on the arm he still has in his grip. It doesn’t quite work out the way I hoped.

  “Fuck, Ken. What the hell?” He barely has time to swing around and catch me as my face heads straight for the pavement. I’d stupidly locked my knees and Neil’s forward momentum pulled me right off my feet. The guy is a freaking tree.

  “Everything all right over there?” A concerned voice belonging to an elderly neighbor comes from across the street.

  “It’s all good,” I hasten to answer, as Neil yanks me upright with his hands under my arms. “I just tripped!” I yell across the street, worried she’ll have the sheriff out here in a heartbeat if I don’t diffuse the situation. To hammer my point home, I slip my arm around Neil’s waist and with a saucy wave at the white-haired lady, start walking the rest of the way home.

  By the time we walk up my driveway, Neil is chuckling and I’m laughing out loud. I felt the woman’s eyes burning holes in my back the entire way.

  “Do me a favor,” Neil says, opening my door with the code I didn’t realize he had. “Next time, let me know before you feel the need to take a walk.”

  “Really?” I huff out, pushing past him into the house, but I don’t get far because his hand snakes out and swings me around by my arm. With both hands on my shoulders, he leans down, touching his nose to mine.

  “Please?” Lingering amusement sparkles in his baby blues. “Otherwise you’re gonna turn me old before my time, and your neighbor will never survive.”

  With some added drama, I roll my eyes, but I can’t contain the snort bursting through.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Neil

  “I’m stuffed.”

  Kendra flops back in her seat, folding her hands on her stomach. “I think I ate too much.”

  I don’t know how a single damn burger and fries can fill her up, but then I’ve always had a healthy appetite. Mom still jokes I ate my way through my college fund before I was even enrolled. The truth is that I had some seriously naive and idealistic dreams about saving the world and college didn’t fit into that picture. I enlisted instead. Barely nineteen when I joined. I learned a lot, always was better at applied learning than I was at academics. Not for lack of smarts, but the abstract way of learning never suited me. How ironic that I ended up discovering I had a knack for information technology. It’s about as abstract as you can get. I was always big and bulky and the combo of brains and brawn had made me attractive in the field. Especially when it turned out I had a pretty sharp eye too. That one surprised me. I’d never shot a gun in my life; my devout parents would never allow it. Yet, the first time I was on the gun range in training, I managed to impress myself—and my sergeant. As excited as I was when I managed to eliminate target after target on the range, the shine disappeared quickly the first time I had a living, breathing target in my sights.

  “Holy schnikes. What’s gotten into you?” Kendra’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts and her hand covers mine on the table. “I hope it wasn’t me you were thinking about,” she says quietly as she turns my hand palm up. I’m surprised to see I’m bleeding. Glass is scattered over the table. I slowly become aware of the noise in the diner. A quick look around establishes that whatever just happened, no one seems to have taken much notice. Even Julie, our waitress, has her back turned. Only Arlene, who stands behind the counter on the far end has her worried eyes fixed on me. A tug on my hand has me turn back to Kendra.

  “Let’s go clean you up,” she says calmly, wrapping her napkin around my hand, which seems to be bleeding quite a bit now. I don’t feel a thing, though.

  I let her lead me through the diner past Arlene, who is waving us through to the kitchen.

  “Grab the private restroom beside my office. I’ll fetch the first aid kit.”

  Seb turns around from the grill. “Hey. How’s it going?”

  Still a bit dazed, I don’t answer immediately, but Kendra jumps in. “We had a little accident with a glass. Just gonna use your bathroom.”

  “Sure, sure,” he says, waving us through.

  In the small room, Kendra holds my hand over the sink and turns on the tap. I’ve still not said a word. It’s like my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. She doesn’t push, just calmly rinses away the blood from a nasty gash right across the palm of my hand. A soft tsssk sound comes from behind me as Arlene pushes into the confined space.

  “Impressive.” She winks at me while taking some gauze and a bottle of something out of the kit she brought in and handing them to Kendra. “I’ll be up front if you need me.” The soft click of the door behind her leaves Kendra and me steeped in silence.

  Kendra pushes me to sit down on the toilet and examines the cut, after pouring on some kind of disinfectant. That, I can feel. It starts with a stinging and slowly turns into a steady, deep throb. Fuck.

  “You’ll need some stitches,” she says, taking great care as sh
e stacks squares of sterile gauze on the wound before wrapping it up tight with a bandage.

  I still haven’t uttered a word.

  Her hand comes up to cup my jaw and she leans down to get in my face. “What’s going on?”

  Instead of answering, I wrap my other hand around the back of her neck and pull her down farther so I can kiss her. I can taste the salt from the fries on her lips, licking them slowly before sliding my tongue in her mouth and filling myself with just the taste of her. With her hands landing on my shoulders to balance herself, her body instinctively moves in between my legs.

  “I like kissing you,” is what I end up mumbling against her mouth. I can feel her lips forming a smile against mine.

  “You’re relentless,” she whispers back. “But we really should get you stitched up. Give me your keys, I’ll drive.”

  After our little spat on the sidewalk this afternoon, I managed to convince her to come grab a bite at Arlene’s. I figured being with her in the familiar surroundings might help her start seeing me in a different way. This was obviously not part of my plan. “I’ll drive. It’s a manual.”

  “So?” she snaps, rising to her full height, which, given that I’m still sitting on the can, allows her to look down on me. “Any rules I should be aware of that state women can’t drive standard?”

  I chuckle at her vehemence. “No. But I noticed you’re driving an automatic yourself, so I wasn’t sure.”

  “I’ll have you know that my previous car was a Mustang and it certainly was not an automatic.”

  “A Mustang, huh? What happened?” I’m intrigued. Not that I can’t see Kendra driving one, because I sure as fuck can. Nothing wrong with my imagination. It’s just that there is a world of difference between that and the little utilitarian SUV she drives now.

  “It would appear that a sporty convertible is not exactly a handy car to have when living in Durango,” she admits rather sheepishly. Cute. “It was a post-graduation phase of mine that passed as quickly as the coming of first snow. By the time I moved to Cortez, I was making better choices.” She looks a little melancholy, and I make a note to myself that given the opportunity, I’d get her behind the wheel of a Mustang again. “Come on.” She pulls me up. “Let’s see if Naomi is around to do some stitching, unless you want to drive to Cortez?”