Turning Point (The Kathleen Turner Series)

by Snow, Tiffany

  He gave a short nod.

  When he said nothing further, I smiled nervously. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Let’s grab some dinner,” he suggested. “I’m starving.”

  I blanched. “I can’t go somewhere like this,” I protested. “I’m not wearing any—” I abruptly cut off, my face heating.

  Kade looked briefly pained. “Wear this,” he said, digging inside his duffel bag and tossing me a hoodie. “And don’t remind me about what you’re not wearing.”

  I shrugged into the hoodie and zipped it up. It smelled of Kade. Whereas Blane always wore cologne, Kade rarely used the stuff. The aroma drifting from the cotton was a mix of leather, spice, and warm musk—nothing that could be captured in a bottle, and all uniquely Kade.

  “I’ll drive,” he said, and I didn’t argue as I followed him out the door.

  The Mercedes was an expensive car, and I enjoyed riding in it. I surreptitiously watched Kade’s hand deftly handle the gearshift. If I allowed myself to think about it, I could almost imagine I was Kade’s girlfriend rather than his employee. Sitting in his car, wearing his clothes—it was not an altogether unwelcome notion. I knew that few, if any, women had been allowed this close to Kade.

  The image of Blane abruptly intruded, and guilt hit me hard. I shouldn’t be thinking about these things. It was classless and tacky to entertain thoughts of Kade like that when I was dating Blane. The sexual tension between Kade and me was thick enough to cut with a knife, but that didn’t mean I had to act on it.

  I deliberately looked away, turning to stare unseeing out the window.

  A few minutes later, Kade stopped the car. We were parked on the street near a building marked simply Tavern. I raised my eyebrows in silent question at Kade.

  “What?” he asked innocently. “They’ve got great burgers.”

  I followed him inside. It was a busy Saturday night, and the tables, booths, and barstools were full of people. Kade slipped into the crowd and I grabbed a fistful of his shirt hem so I wouldn’t lose him. Reaching behind his back, he unfastened my hand from the cloth and laced my fingers through his. A warm sensation flowed through my veins at the gesture and the feel of his thumb brushing across the top of my hand.

  A moment later, we slid into an empty booth in a far corner. I sat with my back to the room while Kade’s was to the wall.

  A waitress whose nametag proclaimed her to be Cindy handed us menus. Kade ordered a beer and so did I.

  I began perusing the menu, waiting. I didn’t have to wait long.

  “What did you see?”

  It was the standard question Kade had begun asking. This was my observation lesson, and I’d been practicing. I put down my menu and looked at him as I answered.

  “There are two exits, the front and the one at the rear past the bathrooms. Five waitresses and two bartenders, plus two cooks. They must have trouble relatively often, because the phone number for the cops was taped to the wall near the phone. A possible problem tonight will be the five men at the bar arguing over the basketball game—IU versus Purdue. IU is winning in the second half, but the Purdue fans appear drunker.”

  The corner of Kade’s mouth twitched in approval, and the warm feeling from earlier spread.

  “Oh, and there’s a hooker reeling in a john at the other end of the bar,” I added.

  “Nice job. Though I think you forgot the two guys who checked out your ass on the way in,” Kade said with a smirk.

  “Likewise I didn’t mention the three women who watched you walk across the room like you were sex on a stick,” I retorted.

  I’d wanted to scratch their eyes out.

  Kade’s grin widened. “Sex on a stick?”

  I didn’t give him the satisfaction of replying.

  “Any helpers?” he asked, getting back to business.

  I nodded. “Two guys at the table in the southeast corner. One of them’s wearing an IFD T-shirt.” Kade had taught me to look for anyone who might be in the police, military, or fire department, as they’d be most likely to help a complete stranger in trouble, especially a woman.

  The waitress came back with our beers and took our order.

  “Address?” he asked once she was gone.

  I told him where we were.

  “Nearest cross street?”

  I told him that, too.

  “Why’d you move out?” he asked out of the blue.

  I stared at him in confusion. “Move out of where?”

  “Blane’s.”

  Oh. I took a nervous sip of my beer. “I was just staying there until I healed.”

  “And he let you go?”

  I bristled. “Let me? I wasn’t aware I had to wait for him to ‘let’ me do anything.”

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Kade said. “Oh wait, I forgot.” He leaned across the table. “You’re not wearing any.”

  He took another swallow of his beer, his eyes glittering with mischief as he watched me.

  “Thought I wasn’t supposed to remind you about that,” I said archly.

  Kade shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. It’s all I can think about anyway.”

  I swallowed. “Kade, I’m dating Blane. You know that.”

  Kade’s jaw tightened and he finished off his beer without replying. The waitress appeared with another, as well as our food, which she set before us on the weathered wooden table surface.

  “Are you sleeping with him?”

  I choked on my beer. “I can’t believe you just asked me that,” I spluttered, my cheeks burning.

  “That means you’re not,” he said, and there was no mistaking the satisfaction in his voice. “It’s been six weeks. If Blane hasn’t sealed the deal by now, it’s open season.”

  I was almost afraid to ask. “Open season on what?”

  The look in his eyes made my breath catch. “On you.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  As I drove back to my apartment, I thought about what Kade had said. He’d deftly changed the subject after his declaration. Perhaps my dismay had clued him in. I could think of nothing worse than Blane and Kade fighting.

  Nothing worse except them fighting over me.

  I snorted in derision. I was so not worth coming between them. Not that I thought I wasn’t a decent catch—I was pretty enough, and intelligent. I could sort of cook, and I wanted to have kids someday. But Blane and Kade were in a whole different league, not only in looks, but in careers, education, and success. I was just a bartender who had been given a job that I had serious doubts I could pull off.

  I showered and pulled on a T-shirt, my back aching from Branna’s so-called lesson. I’d just turned off the lights and climbed into bed when my cell phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID, and my heart skipped a beat.

  Blane.

  “Hello,” I answered, settling down under the covers.

  “Kat.”

  The sound of Blane’s voice made me smile.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “No. I wasn’t asleep yet.”

  “Are you in bed?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are you wearing?”

  I laughed. “A very sexy T-shirt.”

  “You look sexy in anything,” Blane said. “What did you do today?”

  I sighed. “Well, Kade dragged me out of bed at the crack of dawn—”

  “Kade?”

  I stopped speaking. Blane’s voice had registered surprise and warning.

  “What was Kade doing in your apartment?”

  I swallowed, suddenly deeply uneasy. “He’s training me,” I answered. “He got back in town a couple of weeks ago.”

  Silence.

  “Didn’t he tell you?”

  “He did not.”

  Never had three words conveyed quite so much. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.

  “How is he training you?”

  Uh-oh. Blane had his courtroom interrogator voice on.

  “He… um… makes me run…
in the morning”—I nervously twisted the corner of the blanket in my fingers—“and started me in a self-defense class.” No need to tell him how Branna had beat me up today. “I have to go to the shooting range and practice, too.”

  I stopped, unsure if I should mention anything about the cloak-and-dagger lessons.

  The other end of the line was ominously quiet.

  “Blane? Are you still there?”

  “Yes.”

  The controlled anger in his voice made me cringe.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I assumed you knew, that he had told you.”

  “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about,” he said. “I’ll take it up with Kade. Don’t worry about it.”

  I briefly wondered what that conversation would be like, then decided I really didn’t want to know.

  I changed the subject. “When are you coming back?”

  Blane sighed tiredly. “I don’t know. I’d hoped to be back in a day or two, but that might not work out.”

  Lightning flashed outside. A storm was brewing. I watched as I listened to Blane speak, something in his voice causing a sense of foreboding to creep over me.

  “Listen, Kat.” His voice lowered, became more grave. “The Navy… I had a meeting today.”

  Lightning again, this time closer.

  “Kat… they want me to reenlist. They have a need for a specialized liaison between the JAG Corps and Special Ops, due to the secrecy and sensitive nature of what they do. They want me to take that position.”

  My stomach twisted painfully and I clutched the phone to my ear. “What does that mean?” The words felt stiff and foreign on my tongue.

  “It means I’d go back to active duty for a while—six months probably—before assuming the responsibilities of the job.”

  The lightning seemed to be right outside my window now, and I couldn’t blink, no matter how my eyes were burning.

  “Where would they send you?”

  He paused before answering. “Iraq, probably. Maybe Afghanistan.”

  I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Active duty meant combat. Danger. Possibly death.

  “Kat?”

  My eyes still wouldn’t blink, and now things were blurring. The lightning streaks became flashes of light, which seemed like bomb blasts.

  “Kathleen? Talk to me.”

  “Yeah.” My voice was a hoarse whisper.

  “I haven’t decided, Kat.” His tone was softer now. “I haven’t given them an answer, and I don’t need to for a while. I have some time.”

  “Okay.” I could think of nothing else to say.

  “I miss you,” he said.

  My eyes finally closed. “I miss you, too.”

  “Good.”

  I smiled weakly. That was such a Blane thing to say.

  “I’ll talk to you soon,” he said. “Sleep tight.”

  “Night, Blane.”

  “Good night, Kat.”

  I lay the phone on my bedside table before turning onto my back. I stared at the ceiling, briefly illuminated every few minutes from the lightning flashes outside.

  Blane might leave. Go back to being a full-time SEAL. I’d hardly see him, talk to him.

  He might die.

  When I finally slept, my dreams were filled with images of Blane dying on a battlefield a long way away, and far from me.

  “Rise and shine, princess.”

  Bright light invaded my eyelids and I jerked awake, sitting bolt upright.

  Kade was rummaging through my dresser drawers, pulling clothes out and tossing them into a nearby suitcase.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my tired eyes. I looked at the clock. It wasn’t yet four thirty. “Why the hell are you in my apartment at this hour?”

  “Road trip,” Kade crisply replied, not even glancing my way.

  He dangled a lacy pair of underwear from one finger.

  “Kade!” I exclaimed, vaulting out of bed and snatching them from his hand. My cheeks burned, but he only smirked at me. “What do you mean, ‘road trip’?”

  He began grabbing jeans and shirts from my closet, tossing them toward the suitcase. “Ryan Sheffield. Remember him?”

  How could I not? An ex–CIA agent given the task of doing whatever had to be done to ensure the outcome of a case Blane had tried—even if it included killing me. We hadn’t found out who he’d been working for, and now my interest was piqued.

  “Yeah. What about him?”

  Kade turned toward me. “Well, I found out where he’d been living, prior to his untimely demise.”

  The self-congratulation practically oozed off him, and I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning. The last thing Kade needed was more inflating of his ego.

  “And where is that?” I asked.

  “Denver.”

  “You’re going to Denver?”

  Kade was still pawing through my closet, grimacing in distaste at some of my clothes. “We are going to Denver,” he corrected.

  “We?”

  He glanced at me. “You’re my employee. I pay your salary. Yes. We are going to Denver.” He tossed some clothes at me and I reflexively caught them. “Get dressed. We leave in ten.” Then my bedroom door was closing behind him.

  I dashed into the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, I was hauling my suitcase into the living room.

  “About time,” Kade grumbled, handing me my coat. I pulled it on over my jeans and long-sleeved button-down shirt. I’d layered the navy shirt over a cream-colored tank, not knowing if I’d be warm or cold on the plane.

  “Wait,” I said. “What about Tigger?”

  We both turned to look at the lump of feline in the corner of my couch.

  “Can’t you just leave out some food and water?” Kade asked.

  I just looked at him.

  “What?” he said.

  I rolled my eyes. “Let me take him to Alisha. She owes me one.”

  Alisha was my next-door neighbor. She had left her dog, Bacon Bits, with me for several days when she’d gone to take care of her sick grandmother. I figured now would be a good time for her to return the favor.

  Fifteen minutes and several lectures on the dangers of travel in the middle of the night later (my neighbor was obsessive-compulsive about everyone else’s business), we were finally on our way to the airport.

  I was quiet while Kade drove, my eyes turned toward the window and the darkened scenery flashing by. I couldn’t get the conversation with Blane out of my mind and it was making my stomach churn with dread. What if he decided to reenlist—to go back to active duty? Honestly, I didn’t think I had it in me to wait, day after day, for a call that might or might not come. I wasn’t that strong.

  We boarded the plane with little ceremony. Only once we were ensconced in our seats watching the sun rise over the wing did Kade speak.

  “What’s the matter?”

  I turned to him. He was gazing intently at me, his blue eyes seeming to penetrate my thoughts. I looked away.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Just tired.”

  “Bullshit,” he shot back. “If you’re going to be with me on this, I need you to actually be here. Not lost in dreamland. So if you’re not up for it, tell me now. I don’t want my life in the hands of someone who’s too busy staring out the window to notice what’s going on around them.”

  Anger flared immediately. “I’m not distracted,” I said. “And I wasn’t aware your life was in danger while we’re sitting on a flipping airplane.” My sarcasm was thick.

  I changed the subject. “So tell me what you found.”

  He looked at me as though he knew perfectly well what I was doing, but he went along with it. “Ryan Sheffield was CIA,” he said. “You knew that.”

  I nodded.

  “What we didn’t know, and didn’t find out before your buddy Frankie took him out”—I flinched at that. Frankie had most definitely not been my buddy; he had planned to torture and kill me—“was who Sheffield was working for.
I’ve spent the past few weeks tracking down every lead I could find on him. Eventually, they led to Denver.”

  “Why Denver?” I asked.

  “Why not?”

  I sighed and looked out the window again.

  If you didn’t count the flight to Chicago with Kade—which I didn’t since it had been in what had felt like a flying limousine—it had been a long time since I’d flown anywhere. Mom and Dad had taken me to Disney World when I was ten—that had been the only other time I’d ever flown. I hadn’t enjoyed the experience overly much then, and it wasn’t any different now. My fingernails bit into the armrests as the plane taxied down the runway, picking up speed.

  “Afraid of flying?” Kade asked dryly, eyeing my death grip on the chair.

  “Of course not.” I slid the window shade down. If we plunged to a fiery death, I didn’t need to see. “I’m afraid of crashing, not flying.”

  Kade snorted and I shot him a glare.

  A few tense (for me) minutes later and we were airborne. When it seemed we weren’t going to make an unexpected landing, I relaxed somewhat. Something bad could still happen, but most crashes occurred at takeoff and landing. I had a couple of hours before I had to worry again.

  The flight attendants served drinks and I was grateful to get my hands on some coffee. My eyes narrowed as the cute, pert brunette lingered over Kade, chatting quietly with him and laughing at something he said in an undertone. Her hand rested on his arm as she handed him something. She smiled and finally moved on to the next row.

  “Did you get her number?” I asked, my tone bitchy. “Maybe you’ll have time for a booty call in Denver.”

  “Put the claws away, princess.” Kade handed me the slightly warm package. “I got you some breakfast. For free, I might add.”

  He smirked as I unwrapped a cinnamon roll.

  “You have to learn to use every advantage you have to get what you want. You’re a beautiful woman, Kathleen. Use it. A smile and a touch can sometimes get you further than the threat or use of force.”

  I flushed as I tore off a piece of the bun and put it in my mouth; it was sticky and sweet. I lingered over it, eating slowly.

  Kade thought I was beautiful. Blane had said so before as well. I didn’t think I was. “Beautiful” was a word reserved for models and movie stars. I didn’t feel beautiful.