by Sheila Kell
“Have those on duty now eaten?”
Matt shook his head. “Probably not, but don’t worry. Their other teammates will take care of it.”
“No,” she rushed to say. “I’ll fix them something. If they’re doing this for me, it’s the least I can do.”
When they entered her home, she went straight to the kitchen to prepare something for the men. She took a flank steak from the freezer and put it in the microwave to thaw it enough to work with without cooking it through. While that defrosted, she pulled out fresh vegetables that had to be cooked or would be tossed out soon, and began chopping. When Matt came into the kitchen, after unloading their bags and conferring with the men, he asked, “What can I do?”
Without thinking, she ordered, “Cook some rice. I have some of the minute rice bags in the pantry instead of using the rice cooker. That will take longer, and I want to get them fed since it’s well after dinner. After that, you can slice the beef.”
A little stir-fry was the best way to get men to eat their vegetables, she’d always thought. At least that’s what she’d done with her dad and Matt. Sure he’d pushed some of them out of the way, but he ate more than if she’d put a steak out with a vegetable side. He’d all but ignore the side and wolf down the steak and potato. Caitlyn had given up making salads for him. He seemed to be allergic to lettuce, or at least he ate like he was. She smiled at the silly thought.
Her kitchen wasn’t small, but it wasn’t big by any means. Matt slid next to her to slice the beef, and she felt his warmth even over the short distance. This energy between them could not be happening. Couldn’t. Could it?
“Is this good enough?” he asked after slicing two pieces that were entirely too large in her mind, but probably perfect for the big, brawny men who hadn’t eaten dinner.
“They’re fine.”
“You’re making an awful lot for just two men,” he told her.
She almost snorted out loud. “It won’t be long before one of you are hungry again. I remember how often you and Brad ate when we were in college.”
They’d also been football players working out all the time too, so it only went with the deal that they were always in need of refueling. That made her think about Matt and the NFL again. Why hadn’t he told his family or pursued it? He could’ve been set for life financially if he’d been drafted. Was that it? Had he worried he wouldn’t get picked up after all? Or had what happened to her ruined it for him? No, that couldn’t be it. Sure he’d told her she’d make a great NFL player’s wife, but… but what? She hoped she hadn’t ruined what had been a promising future for him. She dismissed the thought, the concept too painful.
“Done.” Matt dropped his knife and turned back to the stove. “The water’s ready for the rice, so it’s almost done.”
She finished slicing the final carrot. “Okay, let me get this on the stove.” Pushing around him—since he’d parked himself in the way—she pulled her wok from the lower cabinet and set about cooking a meal.
While she cooked, Matt leaned against the country sink and watched her. She knew, because she glanced over her shoulder a couple of times and each time he was staring at her. If this was part of the protection, she didn’t think she could handle this closeness. Her body reacted to him, and she wasn’t sure she wanted it to be that familiar again.
“Will the guys switch out so they can eat? I know you said they were going to rest since they’d be on tonight,” she asked without looking back over her shoulder.
“We’ll handle it,” was all he said. Then she sensed him leave the room. There hadn’t been any noise that told her he had; she’d just felt the heat drain from her. Wasn’t that a bitch for her to get her head around?
MATT WOKE THE next morning to the wonderful smell of bacon. It’d taken him a moment to remember where he was, but the thought of Caitlyn alone kicked him into gear. He hadn’t slept that soundly in a long time. Maybe it was the peace and quiet out in the middle of nowhere as opposed to the city noise in he was used to living in Baltimore. Plus, he’d booted Neftali to the floor so he could have a bed.
After his morning ritual to get ready for the day, he slipped into jeans and a black T-shirt then went in search of food. Actually, he went in search of Caitlyn, but he knew she’d be the one cooking so he’d get to fill his belly and watch her at work again. She was smokin’ hot when she’d cooked the night before. The way her breasts were squeezed together when she chopped vegetables, and how she swayed her fine ass when she stirred the food. So much so that he’d had to leave the room to keep from coming up behind her, wrapping his arms around her, and grinding his erection against her.
When he arrived in the dining room that stood open to the kitchen, the table was nearly full with Brad, Ken, Neftali, Rick, and Caitlyn. They were laughing and scarfing down a breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, biscuits, white sausage gravy, and grits. Most of the men had larger helpings of grits than they’d had before when being courteous, so he could only surmise the guys were growing accustomed to a southern breakfast, or they really wanted to please Caitlyn. He grimaced. They’d best not think anything romantic about his Caitlyn.
With only one seat empty between Caitlyn and Rick, he grabbed a plate from the kitchen island which stood as the only separation between the two rooms and slid into the seat. Caitlyn and Rick passed him platter after platter until his plate was heaping full. He noted there was still plenty for the men on duty. She’d definitely come through, but he didn’t want her to feel she had to cater to them. They were used to cooking their food on a mission or eating packaged foods like power bars and some MREs that Devon had ordered for them. Once upon a time, an MRE sucked, the meal tasting like cardboard. The newer ones weren’t so bad. They still weren’t even close to home cooking, but definitely edible.
Of course, they didn’t always invade someone’s home, but Caitlyn was a long way from the nearest hotel and, well, it was Caitlyn. He wanted the entire team on site in case anything happened. He’d worry about the distance to the hotel if a second team was needed. God, he hoped they weren’t. Plus, he wanted to always be on hand in case the sheriff got any leads or had any updates for them about Luke’s location.
Ken and Neftali stood, and then Ken spoke. “Thank you for breakfast, ma’am. We’ll go relieve Danny and Steve now, and they’ll be in shortly.”
Christ, he’d almost slept through shift change.
“Y’all are welcome. And thank you,” Caitlyn said.
The men went into one of the guest bedrooms where they’d stored their weapons and prepared to relieve the men on duty. Loaded down with handguns, knives, and rifles, and who knew what else, they shuffled out the back door. Caitlyn watched them with a wary look on her face that hit his heart like a sledgehammer. This had to be hard on her. What woman—or any person actually—wouldn’t have some reservations and fear over having armed men protecting them from someone known to harm? The big question was what were Ripley’s plans for her? He’d said she wouldn’t appear at the parole hearing, but Matt prayed that didn’t mean what he thought it did.
A sliver of dread wove its merciless way up his spine. They needed to find Ripley, not wait until he came to them. God, he hoped Devon was enough. He’d been in the past, so there should be no reason to doubt him. But he didn’t have boots on the ground. Jesse said they’d pull a man or two from Adam’s detail, and that pleased and worried him. Pleased because someone would be searching, but worried because Adam needed full protection if Ripley came back for round two.
After everyone had eaten, the men who’d worked the night shift—with the exception of Brad—offered to clean the kitchen. No, they really demanded and, after much back and forth, shooed Caitlyn away to the training compound and her office. She had put up a fight, but in the end, she acquiesced, and Matt had to chase behind her as she strode to the other building.
There waiting on them was a tall man in an expensive-looking suit. It appeared to be tailor-made for the lean man in his
early thirties with clean-cut dark hair and bold blue eyes. Matt would admit that he was probably good-looking—to some women, he grumbled to himself. The green-eyed monster reared its ugly head and exploded in full force when the man looked Caitlyn covertly up and down and then smiled. Yep, he could see ripping the head off this asshole in his future.
Matt stepped in front of Caitlyn, putting himself between the unexpected visitor and her.
The man’s eyes widened briefly, and he looked down at the Glock on Matt’s belt before he returned the gaze and smirked. “I’m here to see Miss Robinson.”
The stranger’s voice grated on Matt’s nerves. Having seen a photo of Luke Ripley, Matt knew this wasn’t him, plus he was too young, so he didn’t interfere when her guest stepped aside and, ignoring Matt, looked at Caitlyn.
With a brief hesitation, her gaze caught on Matt’s, and he could’ve sworn she sighed in relief. Looking back at the visitor, she introduced herself and boldly stepped forward, although Matt saw her trembling a little. “I’m Caitlyn Robinson. And you are?”
The asshole thrust his hand out to her, still ignoring Matt who was closer. “I’m Tate Hart. I called and spoke with one of your staff members the other day.”
Matt’s mind cycled through where he’d heard that name. Then it hit him—the potential donor. Why the fuck couldn’t he have called and scheduled a convenient time to meet? Instead, he’d shown up uninvited. Very presumptuous of him. Of course, by the slick ooze flying off him, the guy did what he wanted, when he wanted it. He was the acquiescent spoiled rich kid, only he was a grown-ass adult. But if he were offering money for her service dog organization, Matt wouldn’t stand in the way, even though he wanted to wipe the smug smile off his face. He also wouldn’t leave her alone with the sleazebag. Money or not.
“Mr. Hart, it’s so good to meet you,” Caitlyn said while shaking Hart’s hand. The handshake lasted way too long. He’d been ready to reach out and break their contact himself, but her hand had been released.
Caitlyn turned to him. “Mr. Hart, this is Matt Hamilton.”
Neither man had said a word in greeting, just a slight nod and a perfunctory handshake where each squeezed as hard as he could without Caitlyn noticing. When he removed his hand from the asshole’s, he wanted to shake it out, ease the pain the man had caused. He’d been surprised by the tightness of his grip. Satisfaction flushed through him when he witnessed Hart shaking his hand some for what Matt could guess was the same reason. He liked seeing that and knowing he’d gotten the upper hand since he hadn’t flinched.
Hart turned back to Caitlyn. “I’d like to discuss a possible donation with you.” He tacked on, “Alone,” for Matt’s benefit.
Caitlyn appeared rattled for a moment and looked at Matt, and his stomach dropped. Fear swam in her eyes. Did she have that bad vibe from this guy?
“Where Caitlyn goes, so do I,” Matt announced. Knowing she didn’t want anyone other than staff to know someone was chasing her, he tossed his arm over her shoulder, felt her stiffen, and lied his ass off. She’d probably get pissed, but it was his best thought at the time. “She’s my fiancée, and we’re going to be running Helping Paws together, so right now, I’m with her to find out everything I can to help run the place after we’re married.” He sharpened his gaze at Hart. “Which includes working with potential donors.”
Redness crept up Hart’s face and neck in what Matt guessed was rage, and that made him dislike the man even more. After a moment, Hart turned back to Caitlyn and flashed a brilliant smile that didn’t go with the looks he’d been giving Matt. They needed to get his money and get him out of here as quickly as possible.
It suddenly struck him. How did the man get past his men? Fuck. He looked around the break room in the training facility wondering where the men were. “Who let you in?” he asked gruffly. He wanted to kick himself. His earpiece was in his pants pocket. He’d forgotten to insert it when he’d chased after Caitlyn to the facility. And he didn’t want to set up his comm system with a stranger watching.
“I guess it was your security guard. Another man with a weapon anyway.” Hart shrugged like it was nothing. “He made me wait until someone could identify me.” He turned back to Caitlyn. “Probably a bit of overkill, but you do live out in the middle of nowhere. Anyhow,” he said, turning back to Matt, “one of the employees—Rick I think his name was—vouched for me and had me wait here.”
What the fuck? Did her staff know nothing about security? Hart could’ve gone in the office and destroyed things since she kept it unlocked. He could’ve been on her computer, hacking her accounts. In other words, he could’ve destroyed her, and no one would know unless they’d caught him in the act. He took a deep breath. Okay, he was being irrational, but it was Caitlyn’s life for Christ’s sake.
Matt couldn’t slam his employees if hers vouched for the person. Dammit. He’d have another talk with Tonya and Rick. He’d find a way to meet with the volunteers and visiting veterans also. The latter group would understand and be a bit of help.
“Miss Robinson, first, congratulations on your engagement.”
She didn’t respond. Matt guessed she was still seething that he’d taken that route. She might’ve preferred the truth to come out instead of a lie such as that, but he didn’t believe she wanted anyone to know why he or she was there.
Hart’s gaze flicked to her left hand and that smirk returned when he noticed it bare.
Goddamn motherfucker.
“Second”—his smirk changed back to a friendly smile—“I’m ready to learn about your organization. My accountant says I need to donate more money this year, and someone recommended you and your work. Know that I research every investment and donation I make, so I’ll be close the next few days until I’m sure you’re the one for my million-dollar donation.”
Caitlyn went rigid at the mention of that amount of money. Matt didn’t know her finances, but knew, without a doubt, that a million dollars would be a huge help to her organization. That meant Matt couldn’t screw up that big of a cash influx from Hart. But he’d also make Devon check the man out.
“Won’t you come with me to my office?” Caitlyn smiled sweetly, as the tension he’d felt seemed to seep from her body at the mention of the large donation.
“I’d love to,” Hart responded.
While Matt wanted to put himself behind Caitlyn, so Hart didn’t get an unobstructed view of her ass, he brought up the rear, pulling his earpiece from his pocket and covertly inserting it. He couldn’t do anything with the mic yet. But there wouldn’t be any more surprises. At least he hoped.
Matt took up a position behind Caitlyn at the desk instead of sitting in a chair opposite it and beside Hart. The man still looked like he wanted to eat up Caitlyn. No way would he leave them alone. He didn’t think the man meant her any harm, but he definitely wanted a taste. Then again, what red-blooded male wouldn’t want one? She was a beautiful woman dressed in snug jeans and a Helping Paws T-shirt that while it didn’t mold to her form, it fit well enough to show off her perfect figure. Perfect for him, anyway.
Settled in a chair, one leg crossed over the other, Hart began, “I want to know everything about what you do, and I want to see the operation. Those are my stipulations before I consider my donation.”
“Well, Mr. Hart—”
“Please call me Tate. And I’ll call you Caitlyn. It’s much nicer that way.”
Matt caught the stiffening of her body when he said he’d call her by her first name. He couldn’t understand why she’d take offense to that, but he’d figure it out. He doubted it was just poor manners on Hart’s side to tell instead of ask.
“As I was saying,” Caitlyn continued, as if he hadn’t spoken, “I would go to those lengths even with a nondonor. My employees and I are very proud of what we do here. We have nothing to hide.”
“Then why do you have an armed guard?” he challenged.
“Oh, that….” She trailed off, obviously searching for an answer.
>
Coming to her rescue, Matt said, “They came with me.” Which wasn’t a lie.
“They? So there’s more than one?”
Why did this weasel asking make him want to keep it all secret? He couldn’t allow jealousy to cloud his judgment. He also didn’t have to tell him everything. “One during the day and one at night.” Okay, that time he lied and hoped Caitlyn wouldn’t think she needed to correct it.
“Is there danger here? Maybe I shouldn’t be here,” Hart challenged.
“You’re safe, Mr. Hart,” Matt said. “I own a security firm, and the boys didn’t have anything to do so I took them with me on this trip to see Caitlyn. They preferred to work, so I let them.”
“You don’t live here?”
Man, Hart was getting personal, and Matt didn’t like that at all. “Not yet,” he bit out, hoping that would end this inappropriate conversation. He wanted to tell him it was none of his fucking business, but he wouldn’t upset Caitlyn’s pain-in-the-ass donor.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been too personal. That was none of my business except to know the place is safe,” he said smoothly and with that bright smile on his face that Matt already hated.
Fucker, Matt thought.
Swiveling his gaze back to Caitlyn, Hart asked, “Now, tell me how you came to founding this?”
Matt held his post and listened to Caitlyn explain how at one time in life she’d been at a crossroads and had learned of this type of organization. She went through her years as a trainer and how she started with nearly nothing and was now considering expansion to stop turning down deserving veterans. But they needed donations like his to make that happen.
She’d impressed the hell out of Matt. All that she’d done—alone. If he’d been by her side like he’d wanted, would she have discovered this was her dream, or would he have pushed her toward something like the fashion design she’d been going to college for? There had always been the chance of her being an NFL wife, but Matt had never really seen her happy in that role, and with that and Brad not getting noticed for the NFL, he’d squashed the idea, long before the rape. After it, he’d tossed everything away and joined the navy.