Legacy of Danger

by Jillian David

  Vaughn. Being helpful.

  Emptiness sucked at her insides as she waited.

  She had nothing left in the emotional tanks.

  Sure enough, a minute later, an exhausted Garrison beelined through the kitchen toward the living room.

  Odie, no less purposeful, entered and paused only to wink at her.

  Happy voices rose and fell from the living room, and the tense set of Vaughn's shoulders relaxed.

  Because everyone in his family was safe. Reunited with their loved ones.

  His family.

  Family. Where he belonged. Where he fit in.

  She set the bag of ice down and rested her forehead on her palm.

  It was a mistake, spending any more time here than she needed to.

  She bit her lip and motioned to the kitchen. "I don't want to overstay my welcome here, but I have no way to get back to my house."

  "Got it." His words hit her like sharp pinpricks of sleet. "I'll take you wherever you need to go."

  Did she read a double entendre in there? A tease? Another mean twist of the proverbial knife in her chest.

  She pushed back from the table.

  He rested his warm palm on her hand. She went still.

  "Wait." He took a big breath. "I meant what I said a few minutes ago. Mariah, I'm so sorry." Holding up a hand when she opened her mouth, he continued, "I thought saying that crap this morning, cutting you loose, would protect you. I couldn't have been more wrong." He rubbed his chin. "And I hurt you in the worst possible way. Have I mentioned that I'm sorry?"

  "No need." The air caught in her throat and she had to clear it. "But there was truth in what you said. I get it. You have a life elsewhere. I understand why things wouldn't work out with us. There are things I need, too."

  "About that..."

  She slipped her hand away from his and pushed the ice pack around on the table with a tinkle of cubes. "You know what you need in your life." She sucked in a good, solid breath and met his eyes, like this conversation wasn't already a MasterClass in emotional torture. "Well, I know what I need in my future. I need a long-term and stable relationship. Someone who wants me for who I am. I compromised before. I'm not compromising again."

  "Damn," he breathed.

  Memorizing the rugged lines of his face, she sighed. "And no way would I ask you to give up what's important to you."

  He reached over and squeezed her hand again. "You're asking me what's important?" The bark of his laugh didn't make it to his hard, serious expression.

  "In a manner of speaking. But I think I've got the gist."

  "Do you even understand what happened tonight?"

  It hurt to swallow past the lump in her throat. Did he really want to dissect the whole mess? "Um, I had a front row seat to both the kidnapping, rescue, and attack, so... yes."

  "No. I meant do you understand what tonight meant? About what's important to me." He rubbed the dried blood under an ear. "Look, my life in New York is good. No question. I have a lot going for me there."

  Just like that, the elevator floor dropped out from under her. She pressed her free hand against the solid wood tabletop. Anything to steady her.

  He leaned forward, startling her. "You know what's even more important than all that stuff back east?"

  "No."

  "This family. The people inside this house."

  "Of course. They're your family."

  He brushed a thumb over her lips. "Please wait. I wasn't finished." His Adam's apple bobbed. "There's more. It's you, Mariah."

  "What are you saying?"

  "You're going to make me work for this one, aren't you?" He barked a harsh laugh. "Look, here are all my cards, on the table. Do what you want with them."

  She froze.

  "I want you," he said. "You're what's most important to me. You, Mariah. More than money, more than my career back in the big city, more than fighting."

  "Vaughn?" She exhaled the question.

  "I want you more than all of those things. Do you think"—he hesitated, glancing at her then away—"that there's ever a chance of any future?"

  "With you?"

  "Ouch."

  The invisible weight on her shoulders lifted by degrees. "Clarifying because of this morning and all."

  "Good point." He scooted closer and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. When he tilted his head to look at her, they were at the same level. "We have a hell of a good connection, wouldn't you say?"

  "Of course." Her eyelids prickled. "I care about you. But I won't ask you to change. And I won't change the person I am. I won't be hurt like that again."

  "Shit, no. I would never do anything to hurt you."

  "Contradict yourself much?"

  "Okay, I deserved that." He laced her fingers with his in a loose hold. "I'm no good at figuring out the right thing to say. But if you felt anything... deeper... when we were together, would you consider trying again? Start fresh."

  Her heart stumbled. Before she threw confetti, she needed to make sure she understood exactly what he was saying. "So you mean..."

  "I want you. Mariah West," his words stuttered out. "Exactly the woman in front of me. In my life. In a relationship. And one day, maybe you'll give me a chance at something long term. You deserve a solid guy, and I want to be that guy. I'll stick around long term, too. But we'll take baby steps now."

  "Even with what you said about my not fitting in, not being what you wanted?"

  Leaning back, he raked fingers through his hair. "I am the dumbest fuck to ever walk this Earth. Lying was no way to start a good thing with you, but that's what I did. And I did it for a good reason, thinking a lie would protect you." Grabbing her hands again with both of his, he brushed his warm lips over her knuckles. "I'd like to spend a great deal of time making up for the stupid stuff I said."

  It took a solid ten seconds to breathe again. She studied his battered but earnest face.

  Her heart sped up several beats. "Got any ideas on how to make it up?"

  The flash of his grin sent a shiver down her back and lower into her pelvis. "I'd like to start with my mouth. If that's okay." When she nodded, he leaned in and stroked her lips with his, sending little sparks of happiness over her skin. "Then I'd add my hands and touch every inch of your body."

  "Sounds like a good next step."

  Pulling back, he took her face in his hands. "What I said this morning. It was a lie. Truth is, you fit here perfectly, Mariah. My family thinks you're great, and they're right. I... I'm falling in love with you. You make me want to sand off my rough edges, be a better man, reset my roots here in Copper River. Or wherever you are. I want a chance with you." He tilted his chin toward the door. "And I know there's some scary stuff out there trying to hurt us. It would be totally reasonable if you walked away from the insanity here."

  "I don't scare that easily anymore," she breathed.

  "Damn straight. You're one of the toughest people I've ever met. And you can kick ass. But I also want to be the man to protect you. That's not my weird power talking, that's me."

  She leaned against the solid palm caressing her cheek. "Oh my God, Vaughn. I fell in love with you the first time you stood up to Wyatt Brand then turned around and cleaned up the spilled coffee."

  Closing the space between them, she straddled his lap and hooked her hands behind his neck. She and Vaughn fit together perfectly.

  As those hard arms snaked tightly around her, his voice reverberated through her chest. "I'm not sure I can ever get enough of you."

  "And you're the strongest man I know, inside and out. When I'm with you, I feel safe, and you're right, it's not just your power. It's you, Vaughn."

  His chest rose and fell, more quickly. "Do you know what I'd like to do to you tonight?"

  "Tuck me into bed so I can rest? Hiking all night in the snow is hard work."

  "Not quite."

  "Fill out yet another police report?"

  He groaned. "Okay, yeah, we need to do that, too."

&n
bsp; She nuzzled her lips against his neck. "Was there something else?"

  "Well, I was thinking about a few other things." He whispered details into her ear until her toes curled. When he finished, he nipped her earlobe.

  "That's not the worst plan ever." She smiled against his mouth before running her tongue over his lips. He growled and pulled her hips against his hard groin.

  When he came up for air, he eased her back and grinned. "Let's get out of here. I have hours of serious apologizing to do." He slid a rough hand under her shirt and stroked her back.

  "Sounds good." Shivering, she took in his determined expression. "Vaughn. Are things going to be okay? With that creature out there?"

  Gold glinted in the depths of his dark eyes, utterly focused on her. "I don't know how, but we'll figure something out. The Taggarts stick together. Somehow, we're going to be okay. And I will keep you safe. I promise you that." He kissed her again. Then he stood and helped her to do the same. But he didn't break their contact. "Let's take care of business, then I plan to take you back to your place and tuck you into your bed like you've never been... tucked... before. If I'm lucky, you'll let me tuck you in for many nights to come."

  Holding his hand, she felt confident enough to walk on air. "That sounds like a great plan for our future."

  The End

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  Want more from Jillian David?

  Here's an excerpt from

  LEGACY FOUND

  The Hell's Valley Series

  Book Four

  ~

  Nothing said hey, just making sure you're okay like trespassing and stalking in the middle of the night.

  In retrospect, maybe Kerr's plan had a few weak spots.

  He hung by his gloved fingers on a windowsill of the Brand ranch. Damned house looked like a series of afterthoughts and second-guesses. Nothing fit. Nothing felt right either, but the sensation had nothing to do with architectural design, or lack thereof. No, when he had gotten close to the main compound, it felt like his body weighed fifty pounds more, which made this crime even more challenging as he was literally hung out to dry. His toes cramped as he balanced on the upended ten-gallon bucket.

  Would it kill these people to lower the windows or build on less of a slanted piece of land where the windows were equally close the ground on all walls of the house? Not that he could ever file a formal protest.

  Praying that he had the right room, he propped his chin on the sill between his hands and didn't move a muscle. Izzy's pale face filled the glass. A hand covered her mouth, her eyes opened wide.

  Now what?

  Okay, yes, definitely his plan had a few weak spots.

  Like how she blinded him with a flashlight beam. Ouch. He squinted and grinned for all he was worth. Even tried to wave without falling on his ass. See? Nothing wrong. Just another day, lurking in people's windows.

  If she didn't shut that mag light off, not only would his retinas burst into flames, but someone would see him. Like whoever slammed the front door and now crunched through snow nearby. Crap.

  The second that person rounded the corner of the house, they would see Kerr, dangling like tasty bait. No time to run. Nowhere to go.

  Trapped again, this time by his stupid choices.

  The crunching squeaks of dry snow compressing under boots grew louder.

  Kerr closed his eyes and prayed he could trust her. Clamping his teeth together, he braced against the inevitable headache. His vision went filmy, like several layers of plastic wrap covered his eyes. Blinking against the stab in his temple, he clung to the windowsill. One foot still tiptoed on the bucket. With effort, he held the fade effect until he was completely invisible.

  She pressed a hand against the pane, head whipping from side to side. She turned the flashlight off and shook it.

  As much as he wanted to reveal himself to her and stop the pounding headache, he had to maintain the disappearing act for a little longer.

  God, the heaviness in the air here—how did she stand it? Like breathing underwater. Even the typical ranch sounds of cattle and horses reached his ears in a muted way, like the animals didn't dare to make any noise. Just like at the Taggart ranch, no more dogs ran around here, either. A tendril of sulfur irritated his sinuses and made him glance back over his shoulder, expecting to see that bastard evil creature that had been terrorizing his family.

  No cloud monster tonight, only Linc. With a clomping stride, the big man emerged from the side of the house, no more than ten feet away from Kerr's precarious position. Kerr would recognize that jughead anywhere. Linc, the guy who tried to kill Vaughn in the octagon last week. If that Linc got hold of Kerr, he'd become the fighter's personal hand puppet. Shit.

  At least tonight Frankenjerk marched with a determined step to the large metal Quonset-style garage on the other side of the main compound. Dude didn't glance to either side. No pause in that stiff stride until the metal man door closed behind him. Long may the asshole stay away. Kerr wished frostbite on the guy, but no way would he be that lucky in eliminating a nasty Brand family member.

  Waiting a few more seconds, Kerr finally exhaled and let go of the fade, nearly losing his grip when the headache receded from ice pick to dull throb.

  Izzy's wide eyes locked onto him.

  That damned light blinded him again.

  He flinched and waggled gloved fingers. His arms burned.

  "Hi, Iz."

  ~

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  LEGACY FOUND

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  Jillian David lives near the end of the Earth with her nut of a husband and several bossy cats. To escape the sometimes-stressful world of the rural physician, she writes while on call and in her free time. She enjoys taking realistic settings and adding a twist of "what if." Running or hiking on local trails often promotes plot development.

  Follow Jillian on her website blog at www.jilliandavid.net or on Twitter at @jilliandavid13. Also find her on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/authorjilliandavid