Colton K-9 Bodyguard

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Colton K-9 Bodyguard Page 17

by Lara Lacombe


  “I’ll try not to take too long.” Micah offered her a final smile before turning to the door. She wanted to tell him not to worry about it—she knew he must have a lot of work to do, and she didn’t want to keep him from it. But he was gone before she could say anything.

  She felt an odd pang of longing at his absence. After spending so much time together over the last few days, she’d grown to take Micah’s presence for granted. It was a little unsettling, how quickly she’d let him into her heart again.

  A small voice in her head worried she was moving too fast, growing too emotionally dependent on Micah. But after so many years apart, could she afford to waste more time?

  “Ready?”

  She glanced over to find Danica holding clipping leashes on three of the puppies. “Ready for what?”

  “Time to feed these guys, and then they’ll need a potty break. Will you help me with that?”

  “Sure thing.” Bea got to her feet, and gestured to the other puppies still tussling with Chunk. “Should I take them?”

  “Please.”

  She attached leashes to the other dogs, her focus immediately shifting from thoughts of Micah to keeping hold of the leads as the animals pulled and tugged in various directions. Micah was right, after all, she thought with a wry smile. I’m not ready to go home yet.

  * * *

  “Chief, I’m telling you, we need to bring Larson in right now for questioning.”

  Finn let out a long-suffering sigh and met Micah’s stare. “And I’m telling you, we’re not ready yet.”

  “We found Thad Randall’s body in a shallow grave,” Micah said. “The same Thad Randall I saw talking to Larson in the park yesterday morning.” He waved his phone, the incriminating photographs displayed on the screen.

  Finn lifted one brow. “I understand,” he said, his tone curt. “But just because they spoke to each other doesn’t mean Evan killed him. That’s a big leap, and I’m not willing to drag Larson in for questioning until we’ve wrapped up our investigation into his connections to the Groom Killer victims.”

  “But, chief—”

  “No, Shaw. These guys are slippery. If we tip our hand too early, they’ll get away like they always do. We do this right. No jumping the gun. Give Carson and the rest of the team time to finish checking into things. Then we bring both twins in and hit them with everything we’ve got.”

  Micah knew Finn’s approach made sense, but he still wasn’t happy about the wait. His emotions must have shown on his face, because Finn gave him an understanding look.

  “Go home, man. Try to get some rest. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends for months now. Take the night off and try to relax.”

  Micah huffed out a humorless laugh. “Sure thing, boss. I’ll get right on that.”

  “You’d better try,” Finn remarked. “I expect you back here first thing tomorrow morning with a new attitude.”

  Embarrassment flooded Micah’s system, making his skin feel hot and tight. “Yes, sir,” he said quietly. He deserved that remark, but it still stung.

  Finn nodded and the tension in the room dropped a few notches. “We’ll get these guys,” he said softly. “Have a little faith.”

  Micah wished it were that simple. Still, he managed a nod and a small smile before leaving Finn’s office.

  Back at his own desk, he pondered his next move. A small, selfish part of him rejoiced at Finn’s admonition to take the night off. That meant he could take Bea home and enjoy the evening with her without feeling guilty about ignoring the case. It was a little surprising, the way he’d come to lean on her over the past few days. She was a calming force in his life, and when he was around her, he felt more at peace. Maybe he was making a mistake, relying on her when she had no idea of or control over her effect on him. They’d been apart for so long—if she decided she didn’t like the man he’d become, would he be able to pick up the pieces and move on with his life? Or was he setting himself up for a huge fall?

  Just the thought of losing Bea again made his chest ache, and he rubbed at his breastbone with a fist. Don’t think about it, he told himself. But as a former soldier and a cop, he couldn’t help but consider the worst-case scenario.

  He turned to his computer, needing a distraction. He didn’t want to pick up Bea quite yet—she’d seemed to be enjoying her time with the puppies, as he’d hoped she would. Given the events of the past few days, he wanted her to have a break, a little ray of sunshine to brighten her spirits. In the meantime, there was always work for him to do. He pulled up a blank form and began typing his report on today’s exhumation. It was a tedious job, but Micah knew it was important. He wanted to make sure he’d dotted all the i’s and crossed all the t’s so when they brought the Larson twins in for questioning, their lawyer wouldn’t find even the smallest technicality to use in their defense.

  “I’m coming for you,” he muttered. “And this time, you won’t get away so easily.”

  * * *

  It was over an hour before Micah finished the paperwork and went to pick up Bea. The sun hung low in the sky as they drove home. He hadn’t been able to shake his bad mood yet, but he enjoyed listening to Bea talk about the puppies. Even Chunk seemed to be in a good mood, his tail thumping a quiet tattoo against the backseat.

  “I’m glad you had a nice time,” Micah said, pulling into the drive.

  “I did,” she said, a happy smile on her face. “I might even start volunteering there, just so I can spend more time with the dogs.”

  “I’m sure they’d appreciate that,” Micah said. “I know they’re always busy.”

  “Thank you,” she said simply.

  “For what?”

  She waited until they were in the house before responding. “For taking me there today. It was exactly what I needed after this afternoon, but I didn’t know it.”

  Micah brushed off her thanks as he gathered Chunk’s bowl and kibble. “Dogs are pretty amazing creatures. There’s a reason so many of them work in hospitals and rehab centers.”

  After feeding Chunk, Micah retrieved ingredients from the fridge and set about making sandwiches while Bea fixed a green salad. He slid the plate in front of her with an apologetic grimace.

  “I know it’s not fancy, but at least it’s food.”

  “Looks fine to me.”

  They ate in silence for a few moments. Micah knew he wasn’t being very good company, but he couldn’t seem to shake his disappointment and anger over the pause in the investigation. It was only a slight delay, but given today’s developments, he didn’t want to wait to talk to Larson. He wanted to see the look on that bastard’s face when he saw the pictures of Thad Randall’s body...

  “What’s on your mind?” Bea’s voice cut into his thoughts and he jumped a little.

  “Hmm?” he replied absently.

  “Something is obviously bothering you. What’s going on?”

  She looked genuinely interested, and for a moment, Micah was tempted to tell her everything. But she still had a glow about her from her time with the puppies, and he didn’t want to bring down her mood with talk of the case.

  He shook his head, hitting the reset button on his mood. “Just work stuff. I’m fine.”

  Bea’s expression told him she wasn’t buying it, but she didn’t respond. After a moment, she spoke again. “I wish you had been able to stay a little longer at the training center. Chunk was really cute with the puppies. I think he fancies himself their big brother or something.”

  Micah smiled, imagining the scene easily. “He certainly has the right temperament for it. I was thinking about asking Danica and some of the other trainers if Chunk could be helpful to them once he retires—that way, he can still have a job without all the rigors and pressures of police work.”

  Bea leaned over, glancing past him to the dog in question, who was now snoozing peaceful
ly on one of the kitchen rugs. “He may surprise you. I know you said working dogs tend to have a hard time adjusting to retirement, but I think Chunk might be equal to the challenge.”

  Micah couldn’t help but laugh at her assessment. “You’re probably right.” Chunk was one of the more laid-back dogs at the station, equally happy to go out in the field on a search or snooze next to Micah’s desk while he completed paperwork. Compared to Duke’s Type-A, full-of-energy personality, Chunk was practically a Zen master.

  They spent the rest of the meal chatting amiably about safe topics. Bea told him about helping brides-to-be find the perfect dress, and Micah told her more about the police dog training process. He felt himself relaxing, his frustrations and worries fading as he learned more about Bea’s life and shared some of his own. It was like they were a normal couple, catching each other up on the events of the day, rather than a cop protecting the woman he’d loved and lost from an unknown assailant who was likely connected to a serial killer.

  His heart lightened as he imagined many more evenings like this, the two of them talking at the table to the accompaniment of Chunk’s soft snores. Even though he couldn’t see the solution now, he knew the Groom Killer case wasn’t going to last forever. At some point, the team would get a break and they’d catch the culprit. Then his life would return to normal, her business would recover, and he and Bea could focus on building their future without this gray cloud of uncertainty hanging over their heads.

  It was a nice thought, and he wondered if she imagined the same thing. There was only one way to find out.

  Gathering his courage, Micah took a deep breath. “I want to ask you something.”

  Bea stilled, her hand clutching her glass of water. “Oh?”

  He was committed now. His stomach fluttered with nerves, but he had to know what she was thinking. If Bea didn’t feel the same way, it was better for him to find out sooner rather than later. “Do you...how do you see things going in the future?”

  “Between us?”

  Micah nodded. “I know you had a tough conversation with your dad today. Now that you’ve had a little time to think about everything, are you still at peace with your decision where he’s concerned?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t hesitate, didn’t sound uncertain at all. “I told you, Micah. I can’t overlook the fact that he deliberately sabotaged our relationship and feels no remorse over hurting me. There is no room in my life for someone like that.”

  “Okay.” Micah nodded, knowing it was time to let the subject go. As much as he hated the thought of Bea losing her father, he had to admit her reasoning made sense. If someone he cared about hurt him as badly as Fenwick had Bea, he didn’t think he’d be able to forgive and forget, either.

  Now he just had to hope that what she’d said earlier was true—that she wouldn’t come to resent him for the way her relationship with Fenwick had ended.

  “Is that what’s bothering you? You’re worried I’m going to have a change of heart?”

  He jerked one shoulder up in a shrug. “That’s part of it, yeah.” How could he explain his fears without sounding totally pathetic? You broke my heart once, and even though it wasn’t your fault, I’m worried it’s going to happen again because you regret picking me over your father.

  She studied him for a moment, her hazel eyes kind. “I chose you,” she said softly. “And I will keep choosing you. I know this is still new between us, and I know we’re both feeling our way back into being together again. But let’s keep my father out of this. Even if you and I hadn’t been interested in picking up where we’d left off, I still would have told him the same thing.”

  Her words dissolved the weight on his heart, and Micah smiled in relief as a sense of peace engulfed him.

  Bea rose from her chair and moved toward him, her hips swaying as she closed the distance between them. Micah watched her walk, feeling truly relaxed for the first time in a long time.

  She knelt before him, her blond hair framing her face as she stared up at him. His breath caught in his throat as he traced her features with his gaze: the arch of her brows, the line of her nose, the curve of her lips. Would he ever get used to the sight of this beautiful woman? He’d taken her presence for granted once before. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  Micah reached out and traced her cheekbone with the tip of his finger. She closed her eyes and sighed quietly, angling her head into his touch.

  “It’s been a long day,” she said softly. “And a tough one, for a lot of reasons.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s go to bed. Forget about it all.”

  His heart tripped in his chest. Was she asking what he thought? Or was he misinterpreting her words, hearing what he wanted instead of what she was actually saying?

  She stared up at him expectantly, and he realized she was waiting for him to respond. Oh, God. Talk about pressure. If she had meant “bed” as in sleep and he said the wrong thing, she might think he was only interested in sex. But if she was hoping to connect with him and he rejected her, she might pull back and decide not to risk her heart again.

  This was too important to risk. So rather than pretend he understood perfectly, he decided to ask for clarification. Maybe she’d think he was dense, but it was a chance he was willing to take.

  “When you say bed, what exactly do you mean?” He held his breath, feeling like he was in suspended animation as he waited for her reply.

  The sly curve of her lips told him everything he needed to know. She got to her feet and held out her hand. He took it, and she pulled him up.

  “Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

  Chapter 15

  Bea led Micah down the hallway, her stomach dancing with nervous excitement and anticipation. They had both changed so much in the last ten years. Would this connection still feel as right, as perfect now as it once had?

  She hesitated when they reached the doors to the bedrooms. Which one? Micah gently nudged her forward, past the guest room and toward the master suite. “Bigger bed,” he said softly, his voice a low rumble that made her shiver.

  A few more steps and they were inside his private space. Bea glanced around, curious to see where Micah slept. As he had said, a large bed dominated the room, the simple wooden headboard pressed against the far wall. A dark green bedspread was tossed haphazardly over the mattress, almost as an afterthought. A dresser stood on the opposite side of the room, between the doors for the closet and bathroom. It was sparsely decorated in terms of furniture, but the framed pictures on the walls were the real jewels.

  Unable to help herself, Bea moved closer, wanting to see the details. All of the photos had been taken in the woods, and many of them showcased animals: a trio of fox kits playing next to a fallen log, a pair of deer nuzzling noses, a black bear stretching toward the sun.

  “These are amazing,” she said, moving from one photo to the next, marveling at Micah’s talent.

  “Thanks.” His voice was close, making her jump. She’d been so distracted, she hadn’t realized he’d moved to stand behind her.

  He ran a soothing hand down her arm. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Bea turned to face him and rested her hands on his shoulders. “You have a real gift,” she said. “Have you ever thought about selling some of your work?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “No.”

  “I doubt you’d have any problems finding buyers.”

  His expression turned thoughtful. “It’s not about money for me. I do it because I love it. If I tried to sell the photos, I don’t think I’d enjoy taking them as much.”

  “I can understand that. It’s a shame though—I’d love to have some of these on display in the boutique.”

  The tips of his ears turned pink at the compliment. “Tell you what—when this is all over, we’ll sit down and look through my collection. You can h
ang whatever you want in the shop.”

  She smiled, appreciating his compromise. “Deal.” She rose to her tiptoes and kissed him softly to seal the arrangement.

  His arms tightened around her waist and he lifted her, leaving her feet dangling a few inches off the ground. “Oh, good,” he whispered against her mouth. “I was wondering if you’d changed your mind.”

  Bea hooked her ankles around his waist and nipped at his lower lip. “Not a chance.”

  Micah walked them over to the bed and gently lowered her until she was sitting on the mattress. He straightened, his fingers going to the buttons on his shirt.

  She grabbed his hands, stilling them. “Let me?” It was part question, part plea. She wanted to be the one to undress him, to take her time exploring him, getting to know the man he’d become in the time they’d been apart.

  He dropped his hands and nodded. “Only if you let me return the favor,” he said.

  Just the thought of Micah undressing her made her limbs tingle. A flare of heat bloomed in her chest, making her muscles feel pliable and melted. The promise in his voice was almost enough to convince her to rip the shirt off his body so he would touch her, but she checked the impulse. She wanted their reunion to be special, not a frantic coming together driven by instinct. There would be time for that later.

  She got to her knees, the mattress putting her head level with his shoulders. She felt his gaze on her as she reached for the first button, but she kept her focus on his shirt. If she met his eyes, it would be all too easy to fall into those green depths and forget what she was doing.

  Her fingers trembled a little as she opened his shirt button by button, slowly revealing a growing expanse of skin. When she reached the end, she grabbed the now-loose fabric and slid it from his shoulders.

  His chest was broad, wider than she remembered. More muscular, too. She traced the hard slopes and lines with the tip of her fingers, causing him to draw in his breath with a hiss. Goose bumps broke out across his skin in the wake of her touch, and his muscles tensed and jumped as she explored. Acting on impulse, she leaned forward to blow warm breath across his skin. He shifted, a low moan escaping his throat.

 

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