by Sherri Hayes
Before he walked into his room to take his shower, he stopped outside her bedroom and checked her door. Locked.
Taking a deep breath, he forced his feet to move. He needed a shower. Then he had practice. Whether he liked it or not, he didn’t have time to get into it with her. Whatever it was that had her running and hiding in her room was going to have to wait.
Practice was a nightmare. He couldn’t maintain focus and landed in the dirt more times than he could count. If that wasn’t bad enough, his timing was off and he kept throwing the ball short of his receiver. Finally, the coach pulled him out and had him run laps. It was probably for the best. He needed time to get his head around what was going on before the weekend. They were playing one of their division rivals at home. Losing because he couldn’t concentrate was not an acceptable option.
As he ran, some things became clearer. What bothered him most wasn’t the shooting, but more the feeling of helplessness. He hadn’t been able to do anything to help. Instead, he was put in the position of sitting back—or lying there, as it were—and watching Rebecca take charge of the situation. Maybe that made him a Neanderthal, but it was how he felt, nonetheless. Then being shut out after they arrived home had just compounded the problem. It hurt that she didn’t seem to need him.
Shaking that thought off, he checked his watch. With only an hour left of practice, he figured he’d spend the rest of his time in the weight room. At least there he could let his mind do whatever it was going to do without having to worry about any major injuries. After talking to his coach, he headed inside. He wouldn’t be able to do any heavy lifting without a spotter, but anything that didn’t require all that much thought was welcome at this point. He needed to stop thinking.
Travis Hansen sat with his partner in a small coffee shop across from the football stadium drinking a cup of halfway decent coffee. The pastries were calling out his name, but he was trying to resist. The salad he’d eaten an hour ago hadn’t done anything to curb his craving for something sweet.
Turning his gaze away from the tempting treats, he watched his partner as she looked over the pictures he’d taken. He’d spent most of the morning outside the bar looking for evidence. It was a long process, especially since he was trying hard not to draw too much attention to himself or what he was doing.
The parking lot was littered with all sorts of small pieces of metal. Most of it looked to be buttons, zippers, and earrings. The majority of the trash seemed to revolve around a more secluded part of the lot near the back. It was obvious that area saw a lot of action. He was surprised he hadn’t found any less-sanitary items.
Carson had told him there’d been six shots. Two had hit the vehicle and ricocheted. Those had been the easiest shells to find since they were lying loosely on the ground. The remaining four had taken a bit longer to locate. He took a sip of his coffee. “One was lodged in the dumpster at the back of the lot. The other three were buried in the brick.”
“Any noticeable pattern?” she asked, sifting through the photographs again.
He shook his head. “If anything, there was a complete lack of a pattern.”
“So an amateur?”
“Either that or they want us to think they are. It’s a good thing there wasn’t any pedestrian traffic on the streets last night or they could have easily caught a stray bullet.”
“Anything else?”
Travis noticed she wasn’t relinquishing the pictures. She kept flipping through them as if she were looking for something. “The shots came from across the street. Not much there, but I did find a partial footprint. We might get lucky, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”
She nodded but remained silent. He watched as she brushed her hair back behind her ears, hair that he’d never seen down before the previous Friday at Daniels’s house. She was also wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that left little to the imagination. His partner looked almost completely different. Aside from her outward appearance, there was a nervousness that he’d only ever seen from her once before.
They’d only been partners for a short time when her sister had shown up on her doorstep crying one night. Travis didn’t know much about what happened—his partner wasn’t in to sharing personal information—but for the two weeks her sister had been around, Carson acted like she was walking on eggshells. Her sister wasn’t here, though, so he was curious as to what was going on with her. He knew better than to ask, however. Instead, he sat and sipped at his coffee until she’d gathered her thoughts.
When she finally did speak, it wasn’t about the shooting at all. “Were you able to finish the background checks on the team?”
“Yes. I’ll e-mail you the few I think we should keep an eye on, but I don’t see a motive.”
Carson reached into her pants pocket and took out a folded sheet of paper. “There were some people at the club last night we should check out.”
He unfolded the piece of paper and looked it over. There were very few names on the list, mostly descriptions. “No names?”
She shrugged, which was not like her at all. “I wrote down the few names I overheard, but most are employees at the bar. Should be easy enough to track down.”
That was true. If the bar filed payroll taxes, he should be able to pull names from there and match them with their job descriptions. If worse comes to worst, he could get pictures from the DMV, and Carson could identify them from there. “Daniels doesn’t have names?”
She straightened in her seat but didn’t meet his gaze. “I didn’t ask him.”
He frowned. “Something happen?”
“No,” she said a little too quickly. “I just . . . I didn’t get a chance to ask him before his practice.”
She took a sip of her coffee and continued to look anywhere but at him. Something had happened, whether she wanted to admit it or not. Was Gage Daniels starting to crack that hard shell of hers?
Chapter 11
Rebecca jogged across the street toward the players’ lot where Gage’s SUV was parked. His practice would be wrapping up soon, and she wanted to be in the vehicle waiting for him.
Her meeting with Hansen had gone almost exactly as she’d expected. The chances of him finding something earth-shattering had been minimal. At least he’d been able to recover all of the bullets. Once they had a suspect, it would make prosecuting easier if they got a ballistics match. Of course, they’d have to get their hands on the weapon first. Who knew, maybe they’d get lucky and there’d be a usable fingerprint on one of the bullets. It was a long shot, but she wasn’t above asking for miracles.
When she reached the SUV, she dropped down to the ground to check underneath. Once she was sure there wasn’t anything there that shouldn’t be, she hurried into the vehicle and out of the cooling temperatures. A rush of wind followed her inside as she closed the door behind her. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to dispel the lingering scent of its owner.
The night before, she’d made sure the house was sealed up tight before taking refuge in her bedroom until she was sure he was asleep. She knew it was the coward’s way out, but with her emotions so out of control, it had been the only thing she knew to do. Before going to bed, however, she’d felt compelled to check on him, and ended up standing just outside his bedroom door until almost two.
The morning wasn’t any better. Even after getting to bed late, she’d woken up extra early. She went for her morning run and was showered and dressed before he emerged for his morning swim, all in an effort to continue to avoid him. Continuing her cowardly behavior, she snuck down to the kitchen while he was outside and quickly put something together for her breakfast. She could easily see the pool area from there and was able to keep tabs on his progress in the pool. As soon as he pulled himself up out of the water, revealing what had only been hinted at the last time she’d seem him with a towel around what appeared to be bare hips, she’d gathered up what was left of her food and hightailed it back up the stairs to her room.
In her own defense, she’d
paused at the top and listened, making sure he’d made it inside. Once she’d heard the patio door close, however, she went to her room and locked the door. It was unprofessional, she knew that. She should have been down there with him. They should have been discussing what happened, trying to figure out who was behind it, and why. But something was wrong with her, and she needed to figure out what it was. Going to bed hadn’t been any help. All she’d done was toss and turn, getting little actual sleep.
She leaned her head against the vehicle’s headrest, closing her eyes. Seeing Gage with that woman at the bar had thrown her. She’d seen the pictures that first day, knew he got around. Of course he did. He was good-looking and a popular athlete. When she’d seen the evidence of it right in front of her face, she’d felt a surge of anger toward the other woman, which was crazy. She had no claim on him. No real one, anyway.
That thought made her even more uncomfortable. The man was part of her job. She’d protect him, as she was supposed to, and then go back to Knoxville, back to her apartment, and live her life just as she had before. Nothing would change. It would be for the best.
Reaching into her bag, she took out her e-reader. She still had at least twenty minutes before Gage would be finished, and she needed something to distract her. The last thing she wanted to do was spend the time analyzing all the strange emotions he brought out in her. But even as she began reading her newest crime novel, Rebecca knew she couldn’t keep avoiding him. One way or another, she was going to have to figure out a way to work with Gage. Somehow.
It wasn’t until a half hour later that she noticed guys slowly beginning to trickle out to the parking lot. Gage emerged about five minutes later with Zach, Kenny, and two other guys she didn’t know. He was freshly showered, his dark brown hair slicked back, and wearing a pair of jeans, a grey T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. His gait was confident. He stood out from the others without even trying. She felt her body temperature rise with every step he took toward her. It made no sense!
Once they reached the rows of vehicles, he said good-bye to the others and closed the remaining distance between them. Rebecca didn’t turn away, but she kept her gaze at chest level, refusing to look at his face. She didn’t need to see that cocky grin of his letting her know once again that he could read her like a book, that he knew she was feeling that indescribable pull toward him.
Opening the back door, he threw his duffle bag down on the seat before getting behind the wheel. She turned in her seat to face straight ahead.
“Hi,” he said.
Keep it professional. “How was your practice? Anything out of the ordinary happen?”
There was a long pause. “No.”
An uncomfortable silence filled the space. She needed to fix this between them. They had to work together for the near future. “Good,” she muttered, pushing past the lump in her throat. “I met with Hansen. He was able to recover the bullets from last night and a partial footprint. He’s sending everything to the lab.”
“So what happens now?” he said, starting the vehicle.
“We wait.” It wasn’t the best news to deliver, but it was honest. He nodded, and pulled out onto the street. They drove for a few miles before he took an unplanned detour. “Where are you going?”
“I’m taking you out to dinner.”
There was no question or request in his tone. He was telling her, not asking her. “There’s food at your house.”
“And at my house, I have no guarantee that you won’t run and hide again.”
Rebecca turned in her seat to look out the window and hide her blush. She should have known he wouldn’t let her continue to avoid him. Still, the fact that he was forcing her into a situation where there was no easy escape made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and her stomach queasy.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Even as the words left her lips, she wished she could take them back. Lying wasn’t like her. This—whatever this was with him—was making her act not like herself.
He chuckled. “Sure you don’t.”
Before she could figure out something to say that would make him change directions and turn the SUV around, they pulled up to the restaurant.
He’d known what Rebecca’s response to their going out to eat would be. That was exactly why he’d not mentioned it before they’d left the stadium. The last thing he needed was for her to have time to weasel her way out of it. Or try, at least.
The restaurant he’d chosen was casual, but nice enough that he’d be able to get them a semiprivate booth in the back. They needed to talk, and the last thing he wanted was to be hounded by fans wanting pictures and autographs. Home would have been a preferable option to have a conversation like this, but he couldn’t trust her not to run. He may not be a therapist, but he knew enough about body language to know she was running scared.
When he parked in front of the restaurant, he peered at her out of the corner of his eye. She was looking out the window at the restaurant and biting her bottom lip again. Her hands were clenched into fists as they lay on either side of her legs. A part of him loved that he had her off balance. The why of it had him confused. At the bar, she’d met him push for push, until he’d returned to the table with their dinner.
Getting out of the vehicle, he walked to the parking meter and deposited enough money to last them for the next two hours. Then he went to the passenger side and opened Rebecca’s door for her. She remained seated, staring up at him for several moments before ignoring the hand he held out for her and exiting on her own.
Once she was clear, Gage closed the door behind her, took her hand in his, and began walking toward the restaurant entrance before she could protest. It was a good thing, too. By the time they’d reached the hostess stand, her neatly trimmed nails were digging into his skin, displaying her displeasure.
He was glad to see some of her fight back. It was certainly better than that ‘broken little girl’ look he’d seen since the previous night. His only response to her show of aggression was to give her hand a firm squeeze and wink at her after expressing their needs to the hostess.
As they followed the restaurant employee to their booth, Rebecca’s hand held firm to his. She tried shifting it a few times, but he wouldn’t let her. Given what she’d done in the past, he was willing to bet she was trying to do that pressure point thing to his wrist again. No. He liked her hand just where it was for the time being.
Reaching their table, he thanked the young lady and reluctantly released Rebecca’s hand. “After you,” he said, smiling.
She scowled but slid into the booth.
He sat down and moved to sit next to her. She scooted further, putting more space between them, space he quickly removed by following her. “Not going to get away from me tonight, beautiful.”
With her game face on, she met his stare. “I don’t know what it is you think you know, but I’m not trying to do anything other than my job,” she hissed low enough not to be overheard.
Unfortunately, the server came to take their drink orders, and he couldn’t answer her right away. Once the man was gone, Gage angled his body to face her. “What happened last night?”
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Mr.—Gage. A lot of things happened last night.”
He reached up to brush a loose hair from her face. She leaned away, but he persisted. “Is it that you don’t like being attracted to me? Is that the problem?”
“I’m not—”
“Have you decided what you’d like to order?” the server asked, interrupting them.
Gage didn’t turn his gaze away from Rebecca. “We’ll both have a burger and fries.”
“Did you want everything on those?” he asked, completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere surrounding his two customers.
“On the side, please.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll put your order right in.”
As soon as he was gone, Gage picked up where they’d left off. “You can deny it all you want,
Rebecca, but we both know the truth,” he said, his fingers trailing down the side of her neck, shoulder, and arm. When his hand met hers, he clasped it between both of his. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know.”
She didn’t say anything for a long time. Given the look on her face, he wasn’t even sure if she’d answer. Finally, however, he saw her push her shoulders back in the way she always did, as if preparing for battle. “Yes. I am attracted to you. You’re a good-looking man. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m here in a professional capacity, not a personal one. It wouldn’t be wise to cross boundaries, nor do I have any desire to do so.” Her eyes blazed with determination. She wanted to believe what she was saying, but he’d felt how she responded to his kiss.
Edging closer, he brought up his right hand to cup the back of her neck, tilting her head slightly. The rush of energy he always felt near her was as intense as it had been at the bar. He moved his fingers gently along the back of her neck as he leaned in. “You may wish you didn’t have any desire, beautiful, but you do. It’s in your eyes. It’s in the way your breathing accelerates when I touch you. Nothing is stopping you but you.”
Any other words from both of them were cut off as his lips made contact with hers. Unlike before, there was no resistance, not even at the beginning. She wanted this as much as he did.
Before he knew what was happening, he was completely lost in their kiss. Her lips were soft and warm . . . welcoming. His hand at the base of her neck moved to angle her head in an effort to deepen the kiss. Unfortunately, his attempt to leave her breathless was derailed by their server returning with their meals.
Straightening in his seat, he thanked the server and glanced over at Rebecca. Her gaze was locked on her plate, her chest moving up and down at a rapid pace. He could tell she was trying to calm down. She looked vulnerable again, and for whatever reason, he felt the need to provide comfort.