by Sherri Hayes
Gage had been on the verge of telling her he loved her. It had been there, on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. After the day’s events, he needed to feel her, hold her, and make love to her. His biggest fear, even bigger than finding out his stalker had fixated on her, was that he would tell her how he felt and she would shut him out.
After making a detour to drop the newest letter off to Hansen, he broke a few speed limits driving them home. They’d barely made it into the house before he swept her up in his arms and carried her upstairs.
Their lovemaking was slow, deliberate. With every touch of his hands, every kiss of his lips he tried to convey his feelings for her. This wasn’t about sex. Not for him. This was about showing her what he couldn’t say. He only hoped she understood the message.
It was after seven by the time they walked back downstairs, him in a pair of jeans and her in one of his T-shirts. He really liked seeing her in his shirt. Too bad she hadn’t forgone her panties as well. Although he’d tried to persuade her, she wouldn’t budge. He let it go but couldn’t completely dispel the vision he had in his head of her bent over the kitchen counter in nothing but his shirt. Just the thought had him ready to go again.
He suppressed his urges and helped her make dinner. They sat together at the dining room table and ate. It was there he asked her about her meeting with Hansen earlier in the day.
“Was Hansen able to find anything out about the rental car that was following us?”
She took a bite before she answered. “The vehicle was registered under the name of Mark Fuller. He ran the license number and was able to compare it to the surveillance video from the rental location. They match, which is good, but as of yet, Hansen hasn’t been able to find a connection between you and Fuller.”
Gage racked his brain, but the name Mark Fuller didn’t ring any bells.
“He was the guy following us?”
She shrugged. “That’s the assumption. At least until we have more information.”
He thought about that for a minute. “What happens now?”
“Hansen’s trying to track down the guy. He’s got some friends at the local police department, so he was able to put an APB out on him and the car since it still shows as rented to Fuller. He was also planning to swing by his residence today and see if he had any luck tracking him down. Hopefully, once we have him in custody, we’ll start getting some answers.”
They finished their meals, and retired upstairs to Gage’s bedroom. Slipping under the covers, he pulled her into his arms. Kissing the top of her head, he asked if she’d like to watch a movie. She surprised him by suggesting a game of twenty questions instead.
“What’s your favorite color?” she asked.
“Red.”
“I’ve never seen you wear red.”
“Is that another question?” He chuckled.
She thought about it for a minute then sighed. “No.”
He smiled.
“What made you join the FBI?”
“There was a girl who went missing in my hometown when I was sixteen. She was about Megan’s age at the time, and I couldn’t imagine anything like that happening to my little sister and not being able to do anything about it. I knew right then that I wanted to be part of finding missing children.”
“Is that what you do mostly? Find missing kids?”
“Is that another question?” She smirked.
He laughed.
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“Then, yes. That’s mostly what I do. Sometimes I’m put on other assignments, but finding missing or abducted kids is what I enjoy doing. Even when the ending doesn’t turn out the way I hope, at least I can give their families some closure.”
He noticed a change in her as she spoke. “Did something happen?”
She rolled away from him, putting space between them for the first time since they’d climbed back into bed.
“Hey. Talk to me. What happened?” He moved behind her, gathering her back into his arms. Every muscle in her body was tense, and he was scared she was going to bolt.
“It was about two months ago,” she whispered.
He held her tighter, trying to comfort her, knowing whatever she was about to tell him was difficult for her.
“A six-year-old girl went missing. There was a custody dispute, and her father took her.”
She didn’t say anything for several minutes. “They called you in to find her?”
“Yes.”
Silence filled the room again as she gathered her thoughts. This time, he just lay there and let her think.
“We found her two states away in Georgia. Her father was wasted, empty whiskey bottles everywhere.”
Her voice took on a dead quality that ran his blood cold. He could tell she was distancing herself, and something told him the worst part was yet to come.
“He wouldn’t let her go. I tried everything I could think of, but he wouldn’t release her. I had no choice . . .”
“You had no choice about what?” he prompted when she seemed to lose herself to her memories.
“He had a gun to her head, and I could tell he was going to pull the trigger. I had to shoot him first.”
Things began to make sense to him. She’d told him she was on leave from the FBI, which was why she’d taken the job to protect him. Given the time frame, he had to assume her leave was directly related to the shooting. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair.
She didn’t respond.
He remained silent for a while, absorbing what she’d told him. Eventually, she broke the silence by asking him another question. This one about football. The emotionally charged conversation closed, at least for the time being. They lay there for the next several hours, questioning each other until they both began to yawn. He turned out the lights and drifted off to sleep, temporarily forgetting about the person threatening his happiness.
His phone ringing startled him awake the next morning. Turning over, he glanced at the clock. Six forty-five. He fumbled for the phone. “Hello?”
“Sorry to wake you, Gage, but I’m in the airport getting ready to fly out to Los Angeles. I wanted to catch you before I boarded the plane.”
“Yeah. Sure, Mel. What’s up?” Gage asked, trying to wake himself up. He needed some coffee.
Rebecca rolled over beside him. She looked a lot more alert than he felt. Her eyes questioned him, but she didn’t speak.
“The photographer from your underwear shoot called late last night. Apparently, there’s something wrong with some of the shots. He’s pushing to do a reshoot.”
Gage groaned. He’d hated that shoot the first time around.
“When will you know?”
“My flight leaves in a half hour. I’m supposed to meet with him over lunch. I should know more then. How about you stop by my office tomorrow after practice? I should have all the details at that point and be able to tell you how we need to proceed. Hopefully, this is just an artist making a big fuss about nothing.”
“Okay,” Gage said. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”
Mel disconnected the call, and Gage flopped back on his pillow.
“Everything all right?”
He sighed.
“We have to go see Mel tomorrow, and I might have to fly out to LA in the near future. Knowing my luck, it will have to be after Sunday’s game. Just what I want to do with my day off,” Gage muttered.
He glanced over at Rebecca. She was lying on her side, her head propped up with her hand, and the sheet pooled around her waist, leaving her breasts exposed. An evil grin spread across his face. Reaching out, he pulled her closer. Maybe being awoken early had its advantages.
Chapter 26
After practice Thursday afternoon, Gage drove them to Mel’s office. The day had gone much better than the one previous with one exception. Hansen had yet to track down Mark Fuller or the car. He’d ended up sleeping in his vehicle the previous night in an attempt to catch Fuller coming home, with no luck. Currently, he was
planning a stakeout of the suspect’s place of employment.
They pulled into the lot outside Mel’s building, and Gage found a parking spot. It was a crisp December day, and Gage threw his arm around her shoulders as they walked the short distance into the building. She froze for a moment, glancing around, and he almost released her.
“Everything good?”
She smiled.
“Yes, everything’s fine, but could you put your arm around my waist instead? That way my arm is free in case I need to use it.”
In case, she needs to reach for her gun.
He did as she requested, happy she’d not wanted him to remove all contact.
The interior of the building hadn’t changed much since the last time they’d been there. The only difference was the addition of a few garlands and wreaths hung over the doors and windows. He also noticed a poinsettia sitting on a table beside the elevator. Those were the only concessions to the season. It was nothing like the elaborate way his mom decorated for Christmas. Then again, this was a business, not a home. He wasn’t sure yet if he’d get to go home for Christmas that year or not. He always hoped, but it was never a guarantee.
Even though Mel was expecting them, they had to wait since he was in the middle of a call. His receptionist offered them something to drink, but they declined. Gage wanted to get this over with. He didn’t want to fly back to LA and prance around in his underwear before a camera again. Once had been more than enough.
When they were called back, he kept his hand locked with Rebecca’s as they walked through the adjoining door to Mel’s office. His manager sat behind his desk, waiting. He smiled at Gage. When he noticed Rebecca, his smile decreased slightly. Maybe Mel didn’t want to discuss business in front of someone he didn’t really know. He hadn’t said anything after the last time, not that it would have made any difference, but he could have thought it was a one-time thing.
By the time they’d taken a seat he was all smiles again.
“Gage, it’s good to see you again. And you . . . Rebecca, isn’t it? I wasn’t expecting you to be joining us again this afternoon.”
“I hope that’s not a problem, Mel. We were planning to go to dinner after, and since it’s not far from here, it just made sense.” They hadn’t planned to go out tonight at all, but he figured a little white lie to his manager was easier than trying to come up with another reason to explain why Rebecca was there. He knew it must have looked odd to Mel. Gage had never had a girlfriend in all the years he’d known him. He’d certainly never brought one with him to a meeting, yet he’d brought Rebecca with him twice. Mel had better get used to dealing with Rebecca, however, if Gage had anything to say about it.
“Oh. No. It’s fine with me if it’s okay with you.”
“Good,” Gage said, smiling. “Now, what did you find out about the pictures?”
Mel frowned. Gage knew he wasn’t going to like the answer.
“There appears to have been an equipment malfunction. The first batch of pictures is fine, but the second batch . . .”
“What’s wrong with them? I didn’t notice anything different after the break.”
“The cameraman isn’t sure. All he knows is that when he developed the images, all of them had tiny black spots. All the pictures from your afternoon shoot have to be redone.”
Gage hung his head and sighed. Never again would he do an underwear ad. Unfortunately, he was already under contract for this one. How in the world had he let Mel talk him into this?
“When?” he asked, looking up at his manager.
“You’ll catch a flight Sunday night after the game. I know it will be late, since it’s an afternoon game, so I made sure they wouldn’t expect you at the studio before noon. Here is your plane ticket. Your flight doesn’t leave until ten, so unless you go into double overtime, you should have no trouble catching it.”
Gage looked over the ticket. Everything appeared to be in order as far as he could tell.
“There will be a town car waiting for you at your hotel at eleven. They are also to have everything wrapped up no later than four. It will put you back in Nashville after midnight, but I promise no early wake-up calls.”
Mel laughed at his own joke. The best Gage could manage was a weak smile.
His frown quickly returned and stayed there as they walked back to the vehicle. Once they were on the road again, Rebecca reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze to get his attention. He glanced over at her.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
She nodded.
Not feeling ready to go home, he decided to run with his lie to Mel and drove to his favorite restaurant. Rebecca didn’t comment on their change in direction.
The hostess greeted him by name when they walked through the door and led them to a table. It wasn’t until after they’d ordered their food that he noticed her watching him.
“What?”
She leaned back in her seat and folded her hands in front of her on the table.
“I’m not going to like this, am I?” he asked.
She frowned.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, whatever it is, lay it on me. More bad news isn’t going to make much difference at this point.”
“I’m wondering if maybe Hansen should go with you to Los Angeles.”
He sat up straight.
“What? Why?”
She sighed and met his gaze.
“I just think . . .” She took a deep breath. “I’m afraid you’re reading more into this, into us, than you should. Maybe some distance . . .”
Gage scooted his chair closer to her, eating up the space between them.
“No.”
“No?” She looked at him with wide eyes.
“No. I’m not reading more into us than I should. And no, Hansen is not going to go with me to Los Angeles.”
“Gage—”
“No!” His voice echoed through the restaurant, and people turned their heads to see what was going on at their table. He lowered his volume but not the intensity. “No. If I’m going to LA, so are you.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “I have no idea where this thing with us is going, Rebecca, and neither do you, so stop running scared.”
“I’m not—”
“What do you call it, then? Rebecca, whatever it is between us . . . this doesn’t happen every day. Hell, sometimes it doesn’t happen in a lifetime. I’m sorry this scares you. Maybe it’s because of your parents. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I’m not letting you turn your back on something that could be great.”
Rebecca couldn’t move.
Gage held her captive by his words. Her mind screamed at her to get up and leave, but her body refused to move.
“I love you, Rebecca.”
No. He doesn’t love me. He couldn’t.
She shook her head, trying to dislodge the words he’d spoken from her head. They weren’t true. They couldn’t be true. He wasn’t supposed to love her. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be sex. Nothing more. It couldn’t be more. He was all wrong for her. She had a plan. A good plan. He wasn’t supposed to ruin it.
Food appeared in front of her. She pulled her hands out of Gage’s grasp to start eating. The food was tasteless in her mouth, but she ate it anyway. It was something to do, something to distract her from the mantra on a repetitive loop in her brain.
About halfway through her meal, Rebecca realized Gage hadn’t touched his food yet.
“Aren’t you eating?”
He frowned and pushed his plate away.
“Suddenly, I’m not hungry.”
She lay down her fork and turned to face him. Her knees bumped into his as she moved. Warmth spread through her at the contact. Her chest felt heavy, her stomach empty, despite the food she’d just eaten. She wanted to reach out and feel his arms wrap around her as they’d done so many times over the last week. Instead, she kept her hands in her lap, clasped
tight together, safe from her impulses.
“You should eat. You had practice today, and you have to be hungry.”
“I think I’ll survive without food for one night.”
She frowned.
Then he placed his hands on her face, touching her, making her feel all the things she didn’t want to feel. Her eyes closed of their own volition. She leaned into his touch before she could stop herself.
“Please, Rebecca. Please, just give us a chance. That’s all I’m asking. I know you’re scared. I am, too.”
As good as this felt, him touching her, she had to be strong. She had to end this. It was the only way.
She snapped her eyes open, took hold of his wrists, and removed his hands from her face.
He sighed and dropped his hands onto his lap. She’d never seen him look so defeated. It didn’t look right on him. She missed that cocky grin of his. The overconfident man who cornered her at every turn. The man who made her overheat from the inside out every time he touched her. The man she was going to willingly push away for both their sakes.
She stood.
“I’m ready to leave if you are.”
Gage stared at her for a long minute before standing. He threw some money on the table for their meals. She wasn’t even sure he counted it.
He walked beside her in silence out to the SUV. She stayed focused enough on their surroundings to keep him safe, but inside, she felt like she was going to be sick. After checking under the vehicle, they climbed in and drove home . . . back to his house. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his fingers clutch and release the steering wheel as he drove, but he didn’t speak.
Once back at the house, she excused herself so she could check the perimeter. She was grateful when he didn’t fight her on it—she needed some time to herself.
As she walked slowly around the outside of his house, she realized just how comfortable she’d become there. Comfortable and stupid. She felt the tears start to fall down her cheeks, and she didn’t try to stop them. She would solve this case for him, make sure he was safe. Then—no matter how hard it was for her—she would say good-bye.