by Maya Banks
She hurried around him to put her own bag down. “No, go right ahead. Whatever you need. The fridge is over there.” She pointed at the obvious and then felt ridiculous. “Of course it’s there. Hard to miss.”
Garrett plopped the stuff down on the table and then turned to her. His expression was serious but he didn’t make a move toward her. “Relax, Sarah. You don’t have to be nervous. If you aren’t comfortable with me being here, I can go. No problem.”
Was this guy for real? He was so calm and ... unthreatening. Which, God, she needed. She couldn’t do threatening right now. She needed something sturdy. Something to believe in even if just for the space of a dinner.
“I’m losing my mind,” she said in a cracked voice. “I want you to stay. That is, if you still want to.”
“What I want is for you not to be afraid. I want you to feel safe.” He took one step toward her but hesitated as if testing her willingness to let him close. Then he touched her jaw—just a fingertip. But she felt it all the way to her soul. “You’re safe with me, Sarah. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”
Coming from anyone else, the statement would be melodramatic and corny. But he didn’t so much as blink when he made the declaration. He was dead serious, and the thing was, she totally believed him. She wanted to believe him.
She stood there, not flinching away from his touch. It was ... nice. Comforting on a deeper level she didn’t quite understand. It had been a long time since she’d taken so much pleasure in a man’s touch. Just the simple gesture, the brush of his fingers. It touched something inside her that had been paralyzed with fear for so long.
“Who are you?” she blurted. “Are you real? Or did I conjure you up?”
He looked startled by her question. He cocked his head to the side and then emitted a soft chuckle. “I don’t know about me, but the food’s real.”
She peered curiously at the bags on the counter. “What did you bring?”
He turned and open up one of the sacks and pulled out a package of steaks. “I thought we’d start with a little meat, progress to more meat and finish with—”
“Let me guess. More meat?”
He grinned. “I’m a growing boy. Need my protein.”
She rolled her eyes and then frowned when her gaze lighted on his shoulder. “How did you hurt yourself?”
He lifted one brow and leaned his hip against the counter.
She flushed. “I watched you from the window. It seems to bother you when you’re exercising.”
He flashed a wry smile. “Yeah, I might have met with the wrong end of a bullet.”
She blinked. “Is either end of a bullet good?”
For a moment he stared at her and then he threw his head back and laughed. “Okay, you totally got me there.”
“So what happened?”
“Let’s just say some bad people were trying to hurt someone I love.”
“And shot you in the process? You look military. Were you in the army?”
He visibly shuddered. “Army? Hell no.”
She studied him through narrow eyes. “Marine? You used to be a Marine?”
“I am a Marine,” he corrected.
“Oh, you’re still enlisted then? Are you on leave?”
“You sure do ask a lot of questions. I feel like I’m playing volleyball.”
She flushed. “Sorry. I get carried away.”
“S’okay. And no, I’m not enlisted anymore. But we don’t exactly call ourselves former Marines.”
“Oh, yeah. Once a Marine ...”
He nodded.
She pursed her lips, ready to ask another question then thought better of it. He smiled. “You can ask. I was only kidding about you asking so many questions. Well, not kidding, but I don’t mind.”
“You’re awfully laid-back,” she said.
He looked at her in astonishment and then laughed again.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh man, I gotta tell my brothers you said that. They’d kill themselves laughing. They think I’m the most uptight son of a bitch who ever lived.”
Shock widened her eyes. “Really? But you seem so easygoing. So ... calm.”
He rubbed a hand through his mussed hair and grinned ruefully. “Maybe it’s the downtime. I haven’t exactly taken any in ... well, forever. Kind of hard to be uptight when all you can see for miles is beach, water and blue skies.”
She rubbed her hands up her arms, drawn to the image he painted. Peace. That was the word that seemed to personify him. Longing welled like a giant wave, falling over her until it was all she could process. What would she do for peace? True peace. The kind that settled into your bones and invaded your veins until contentment ached bittersweet.
She’d sell her soul to own even a little part of the peace that seemed to surround him.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I envy you,” she said honestly.
Their gazes connected and his blue eyes flickered, just a hint of reaction in their depths. He didn’t respond. Didn’t offer some hokey sentiment. He just watched and studied her as if no words were needed because he understood. She shook her head to rid herself of the ridiculous thoughts dancing around in her head. How could he understand anything when he was a complete stranger?
She turned away, no longer able to look into his eyes, into so much warmth. He made her stupid. Completely and utterly stupid. He’d get no free passes just because he saved her. Her gratitude? Yes. She was extremely grateful, and not just for rescuing her, but for going beyond that to make her feel safe.
Mentally, she put about six feet of distance between them. When she turned back around, her lips were set into a firm line. “Do you want me to make a salad?”
“Nah. Would ruin the whole effect. You can season the meat though, while I go out and fire up the grill.”
Relieved to have something to do and that he was leaving the room for a bit, she nodded and went to retrieve spices from the small pantry. By the time she returned to the table, Garrett had disappeared out the front door. She heaved a sigh of relief and sagged against the counter.
Never before had she had such a confusing reaction to a man. Garrett terrified her and yet he made her feel as though nothing could hurt her as long as he was near. She feared allowing him too close, and yet she didn’t want him to leave.
She smiled when she saw that in addition to the steaks, he’d brought over chicken breasts and pork chops. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d suggested a three-course meat dinner. As much as he worked out and as muscled as he was, he probably had to consume a gazillion calories in a day. And lots and lots of protein.
She liberally seasoned the meat and then washed her hands in the sink. As she gazed out the window overlooking the porch, she saw the fire blazing in the small grill. Garrett stood watching the flames and when they finally died down, he closed the lid and started back toward the front door.
“Want to sit out on the porch while the meat cooks?” he asked when he returned to the kitchen.
The idea was instantly appealing. She’d spent most of her time watching the ocean from the safety of her cottage. But sitting outside, smelling the air, feeling the ocean breeze on her face sounded wonderful. She wouldn’t be vulnerable and alone. She had Garrett.
“That sounds wonderful.” She even managed to smile as she said it.
Suddenly eager to be outside and enjoy an afternoon of freedom, she rummaged in the sack for the still-cold beer. She held up three bottles, all different, and raised a questioning eyebrow in his direction.
He grinned. “Pick one. I’m not particular.”
She shrugged and put one down on the counter. The rest she shoved into her fridge for later. Garrett picked up the beer and returned her questioning look.
“Not having one?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not much of a beer person, I’m afraid.”
“Ah.”
There was a lot in that one little word and her
gaze sharpened. “What?”
“Just ah. You look more like a wine person.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He cocked his head to the side and studied her. “You have this refined, elegant look about you. I bet you enjoy classical music, going to the opera, fine wine and fancy food.”
She flushed. “You think I’m a snob?”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Not at all. I don’t know you. Just a guess. Am I right?”
“Hmm, yes and no. I do love classical music, but can honestly say I’ve never been to an opera nor do I particularly desire to go. I do enjoy wine. White only. But as for food, I’m afraid I’m a burger-and-fry kind of girl.”
Garrett clutched his chest with his free hand and staggered back. “Be still my beating heart. You’re speaking my language. I make a mean hamburger.”
“So you think I’m elegant and refined? Is that a veiled insult?” she asked with a smile.
“No. I like elegant and refined. You look ... classic.”
“Well thank you. I think.”
“It was totally a compliment. You’re a beautiful woman.”
Her cheeks heated under his scrutiny and she looked away, suddenly self-conscious. She’d all but fished for the compliment and now she was embarrassed by how obvious she’d been.
Garrett reached around her for the platter of meat. “Can you get the door? I wouldn’t want to drop my beer.”
Sarah chuckled. “Oh the horror.”
She moved ahead of him to open the door and they both walked out onto the sun-warmed porch. It was an incredibly beautiful day. One she hadn’t had the chance to fully appreciate once her trip into town ended in disaster. She perched on the steps while Garrett put the meat on to cook.
A few seconds later, he sat next to her, stretching his long, tanned legs down the steps. He took a long swallow of his beer and sighed.
“It doesn’t get much better than this.”
She wanted to agree but couldn’t really. In other circumstances, yeah, this was truly paradise. She made a sound that could be construed as agreement and he glanced sideways at her as he lowered his beer.
“So what were you in town for this morning? Did you need something? I can always run back in for you.”
Surprised by his thoughtfulness, she shook her head. “I went by the bookstore to pick up a few books. I dropped them when the idiot attacked me.”
“Sorry, I didn’t even see them. I was too focused on you.”
“It’s all right. Maybe I’ll go get some more in a few days. If I ever get the courage to leave my cottage again.”
He reached over to where her hand rested on top of the step and covered it lightly. “You’ll be fine.”
When he left his hand there, she edged it sideways until her hand came free. She brought it up to her lap and laced her fingers into a tight ball. She tried to imagine how she might have responded to Garrett a year ago. Would she have encouraged him? Would she have flirted and flashed him playful smiles?
It was hard to remember acting so freely with a man. For the past year, she’d been consumed with self-preservation, and for her that meant avoidance. But avoidance hadn’t done anything to stop the shame, the frequent anxiety attacks or the sleepless nights. There were days she couldn’t remember what her life had been like before ...
You can say it, Sarah. You were raped. You were violated. You were attacked by someone you trusted.
Her lips wouldn’t form the syllables but it screamed through her head until she shook it from side to side to rid herself of the word, which was as brutal as the act.
And here she sat, next to a stranger. Someone she didn’t know from Adam. Someone she didn’t trust and knew nothing more than that he was here recovering from a bullet wound. If someone she had trusted could do something so horrible, how could she possibly believe that a complete stranger wouldn’t do the same?
CHAPTER 8
SENSING her tension, Garrett got up and needlessly went to turn the meat. He piddled at the grill longer than necessary and took the time to watch Sarah. He’d made a mistake touching her, but found that he was unable to resist the urge to offer comfort. Comforting women was something entirely alien to him. That was something his brothers were far more adept at. He was lovey with Rachel—okay, and now with Sophie. Maybe he wasn’t a complete failure when it came to women, but it didn’t mean he understood them either.
What he did know of Sarah in turns pissed him off and made him hurt. There just wasn’t an excuse for hurting a woman. Ever. It was the one thing designed to infuriate him above all else. And Sarah had been hurt. He knew it. He felt it. Saw it in her eyes every time she looked at him.
A normal guy would ask her questions. And he was supposed to be a normal guy. Most men would be curious about a woman like Sarah. They might even try to cozy up for a vacation fling. He blew out his breath, remembering that Resnick had all but suggested it. The problem was, he wasn’t a normal guy. He was here on a job and he couldn’t feign casual interest.
But he wasn’t supposed to know anything about Sarah, and a normal guy would be a little freaked out by her seemingly bizarre behavior. Garrett? He understood it. Only too well.
Still it might seem strange if he didn’t try to pry a little.
He grunted under his breath. He hated this kind of shit. He didn’t do undercover crap. That was more Sam’s forte. He’d much rather go in, blow the shit out of the bad guys then go home and have a beer.
Well, at least he had the beer covered.
“I’m going to grab another beer. You want anything?”
She turned to look at him with those big eyes and his stomach tightened. Damn. He had to chill on this bizarre ... attraction. No matter what Resnick suggested, he wasn’t going to try to get into a woman’s pants just to get on her good side.
“No, I’m good,” she said.
He went inside and was greeted by Patches, who jumped onto the counter to watch as he pulled another beer from the fridge.
“You want some?” he asked the cat.
She eyed him balefully then turned with a swish of her tail and proceeded to ignore him.
He shrugged. Typical female.
He walked back onto the porch and sat back down by Sarah. She didn’t move away, which gave him an absurd thrill. He took a swig of his beer and stared out at the incoming waves.
“So what brings you here? Vacation?”
She gave him a startled look. Great. He’d caught her off guard even though it was the most innocuous inquiry he could summon. Maybe she hadn’t considered fielding such a question, but wasn’t it something anyone would ask her? She wasn’t going to blend in if she freaked every time someone got friendly with her.
“Yeah. Vacation. Needed some time away.”
He nodded. “I hear that. Where you from?”
She was growing more uncomfortable with each passing second, but she managed to smile though it was so fake she could be one of those beauty pageant queens whom Donovan liked to watch on television.
“All over, actually. I moved a lot as a kid.”
“Really? I lived in pretty much the same place my entire life. Except when I was in the military.”
“Oh? Where’s home?”
He didn’t miss the obvious way in which she turned the tables on him or her evident relief that she’d avoided his original question. But he went with it. He could play the dumb tourist as well as anyone.
“Tennessee. Little town on Kentucky Lake. My entire family lives there.”
She sighed. “It sounds nice. You have a big family?”
“You could say that. There’s my mom and dad. I have five brothers. I’m second oldest. I also have two sisters-in-law, one of whom is ready to pop out a kid any day now. Then there are my mom’s adopted chicks. Her most recent find is a surly-ass teenage girl who she’s determined to keep on the straight and narrow. My brothers and I have given up and wished Ma luck.”
Sarah chuckled. “Aren�
��t all teenage girls surly?”
“Hell, I don’t know. They’re all deranged, if you ask me.” He glanced sideways at her. “What about you?”
A slight grin flirted with the edges of her mouth. “I’m pretty sure I was deranged at sixteen.”
“Smart-ass. I meant what about your family?”
Her expression became more pensive. “I grew up in foster homes.”
He shifted uncomfortably. He already knew that but he wasn’t supposed to and now he had to sit here and play dumb. He was dying to ask her about Lattimer, and why, if she was his sister and he was so protective of her, had she grown up without all the benefits he had? Instead he offered a lame reply that said he didn’t really know what to say at all.
“Ouch. That had to be hard.”
“It wasn’t so bad. But it did involve a lot of moving. Most placements were temporary until something more permanent came along. The problem was that the permanent situations never were ... permanent.”
His lips twisted in sympathy. “That sucks.”
She shrugged. “It’s not like I was abused. I had food and clothes. A place to live. There were a lot of children far less fortunate than I was. I don’t spend my adult life lamenting my childhood. I had some good times.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to that. He liked her attitude. Shit happens and you deal. Only second to the Kelly motto, in his mind. No one fucks with the Kellys.
“So how long are you here for?”
She frowned. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Ah. Extended vacation then. Must have really needed this one. Stressful job?”
Tension snaked across her face. “I’m sort of taking a breather right now. I’m thinking of a career change. Maybe something a little less ... stressful, as you put it.”
“Any ideas yet?”
She smiled ruefully. “No. Not really. Maybe teaching. Something with kids. I’m kind of tired of adults.”
“Oh hell, and you think teaching’s less stressful? My mom and my sister-in-law used to teach. I never figured out how they survived that with their sanity intact.”
“Let me guess. You’re scared of children too?”