by Dani Jace
He drove faster. “Now, baby?”
“Yes.”
His muscles tensed as she let go and took him with her.
Falling. So easy. So good. He welcomed it. With heart pounding, he gave his soul and felt it returned.
* * * *
Her womb clenched and she spiraled into a second orgasm. His warm release filled a secret hollow place inside of her. In his arms, she felt complete not just a surfer girl turned firefighter. “I love you, Ray,” she whispered, as they lay entangled.
He kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry for being jealous.”
“Why won’t you tell me why you two are at odds?” Not knowing the truth had caused her trouble. She didn’t want to be blindsided again.
“Why does it matter?” He looked away.
Their avoidance of the issue made it seem more important. “You said I could tell you everything.” She traced along his tattooed bicep. “It works both ways.”
“I’ll make a deal with you.” He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger.
“Are you bargaining for backdoor, Mr. Andrews?” How bad did she want to know the men’s secret?
His narrowed his gaze. “You don’t know if you’ll like something until you try it.”
Considering his extraordinary skills, she’d consider his request. He knew how to leave her sated yet eager for more. “I trust you. With my life and more.”
He frowned. “I don’t want payback, baby. I love you and want you to feel loved and safe.” Then he smiled. “And give you the best sex of your life.”
“You can check all those boxes, Hemanus.” She gave his growing erection a loving tug and sat up. “Will they be able to put him away for good?”
His blue eyes searched her with concern. “Drug trafficking should do it. Plus, there’s got to be a law about using someone’s e-mail account illegally. And don’t forget embezzling.”
Even if the police found Nate, she couldn’t be positive her worries were over. But she could count of the best sex of her life with a Hemanus.
Chapter 42
With her cheek aching, Jo slid off the bed and checked her reflection in Ray’s dresser mirror.
Still in dreamland, he lay with thick lashes fringing his tanned face. Accented by a sexy grunge beard, he looked peaceful. So at odds with yesterday, when worry lines etched his forehead.
She, on the other hand, looked like she’d been on the bad end of a UFC fight. The swelling in her cheek had subsided, but her eye was the color of Concord and Black Corinth grapes. Rode hard and put away wet came to mind. The aroma of coffee enticed her to the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” His iron bar of an arm latched on to her, dragging her onto the rumpled sheets and against his chest.
“For coffee.” She giggled.
“Mmmm. I believe we still have some unfinished business.” His voice deepened.
“Oh.”
“Then we can go get your new driver’s license.” His fingers traced along her bruise.
“Can’t do anything without an ID.”
“We’re getting ready to.” He arched a brow. “Don’t forget you have your volly badge in the Bronco with your gear.”
“It might prove I’m not a terrorist, at least.”
“I kinda like the way you torture me.” His abs rippled in laughter.
She rolled on top of him as his husky rumble resonated through her. It was an endearing sound she wanted to hear forever. “I’ll have you confessing in minutes.”
Thirty minutes later, she took a shower and then headed for the kitchen. A cup of coffee landed on the counter in front of her.
“Who’d you say would be confessing?” His crooked smile challenged as he returned to flipping pancakes with a tattooed bicep.
He won. She didn’t mind. Lord, the man would drive her to the depths of debauchery with his fuck me now body. “When did Craig leave?”
He shot her a sexy squint over his bare shoulder. “I heard his truck start when we were deep into round two.”
Guess she’d been too enthralled to notice.
After breakfast, they stopped at Sarah’s house. Jo almost cried in joy at the site of her Bronco. Ray handed her Bobby’s set of keys he’d given him.
No one appeared home, so she grabbed her badge from her go bag. She wondered if Sarah would be able to forgive Bobby even though he wasn’t the one who dragged her into interrogation.
At the DMV she acquired a new license with a picture that resembled a criminal mug shot. From there, her bodyguard/chauffeur whisked her off to the bank for a new debit card and some cash. Then on to Wally World, his nickname for the world famous discount store.
Ray made a beeline for sporting goods, saying he’d catch her in a bit. She began the hunt for jeans first. She couldn’t blame him for fleeing. Everyone they’d seen since leaving the house directed an accusatory eye toward him in spite of her camouflaging shades. Her hero now thought a villain.
Later, he snuck behind her as she browsed through the lingerie section. “What have you found so far?”
She turned holding up a plain white bra.
“Practical, but how about something lacy?” He grinned. “What else?”
He glanced at the few items in her basket, jeans, panties, socks, and a couple of T-shirts. He cocked his head. “What about makeup, hairbrush. A purse?”
She raked her hands through her hair. The road to normalcy suddenly seemed daunting. Tears threatened. For a girl who didn’t cry when her mother left, she’d become a virtual baller.
He wrapped her into a hug. “It’s okay, baby.”
“I don’t know where to start. I don’t want a purse.” She sniffed as she pulled away and straightened. “I’m a backpack girl. You guys are lucky to have pockets in everything you wear.” The handbag thing sounded stupid, but she was hanging by a thread.
“I’ll help you get what you need.” He took over driving the cart.
He probably figured a script for Prozac would be more helpful. Such a gentle nature for a big guy as he guided her through the store, helping her replace toiletries, cosmetics, and even tampons.
After checking out, they headed to Sarah’s to retrieve her truck. “Thanks for helping. Can I ask you something?” Jo glanced to Ray.
“Uh-oh. Can we go back to purse versus backpack?” His cheek dimpled.
“I just don’t want to be an imposition.”
He rubbed his forehead. “There you go again.” He sighed “What do I have to do before you believe I’m here for you?” The light turned red and he studied her. “If it had been my place, where would I be staying?”
“With me.”
“I rest my case, but if you’d rather―you can stay with my mom in her efficiency.”
Geez, the man could be devious without trying. “I’ll stay out of Craig’s way.”
“He best stay out of yours. The lease is in my name, Dahlin’.”
Sarah met them at the driveway. Her face was taunt and pale. She had her hair drawn into a tight ponytail. “I’m so sorry, Jo. Bobby told me everything. Why didn’t either of you mention you were being watched?”
“Can you say stubborn?” Ray’s jaw tightened.
Sarah nodded. “Bobby called me just a few minutes ago saying the detectives are requesting a subpoena for a transcript of the cellular calls between Nate and Vic.”
Jo didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.” She hoped Nate would disappear now that Vic was gone.
“Did Bobby say if they’d found Nate?” Ray looked hopeful.
Sarah folded her arms and shook her head. “There still searching. Don’t feel bad, Jo, my partner is as much to blame. The jerk screwed my personal and professional life. I wish someone would kill him so I could collect the business life insurance. Then I could fix part of my world.”
Too bad he hadn’t been on the beach with Vic. Ray would’ve handled it. Surely, her brother considered the possibilit
y of the ass wipe showing up on Sarah’s doorstep. “Are you by yourself?”
“One of my girlfriends is staying until he gets back. She glanced over her shoulder to the house. After what happened to you, Jo, he’s worried and I’m scared. I don’t know about Bobby and me. One thing at a time.”
“You have my number. Call us if you need anything.” Jo hugged her.
Something else she couldn’t fix or control. Life was certainly trying to teach her a lesson in letting go.
* * * *
Covered in sweat, Ray swung off the side of the bed holding his head. “Fuck.”
He shivered and fought the resonating images of blood. Gunfire echoed in his head. The clock glowed three AM.
Jo eased up behind him. “You okay?”
“Sorry.” He patted her hand that smoothed his arm. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
As he gained control, her fingers kneaded the knots from his shoulders and back. Soft lips caressed his neck. Her tropical scent reminded him of what was real. Jo.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” she whispered. “Bad dream?”
He exhaled.
“Never mind. Lay on your belly.” She patted his hip.
“Huh?”
“For a massage.”
He lay down with the nightmare still nagging his consciousness. His reoccurring rooftop dream paled to this new hell. She didn’t need to know.
Jo straddled him, leaned forward and firmly tunneled her thumbs into the tight cords of his shoulders. Making small circles on either side of his spine, she worked her way to his rear then returned to his shoulders and upper back.
“You’re an angel.”
Her magic fingers carried him to heaven. He drifted as sleep took him.
A stray beam of sunlight streaked through the part in the dark curtains. He woke with the urge to call Bobby.
He needed to learn everything they’d uncovered about Nate. Jo wouldn’t be safe until the man was apprehended. He pushed his nightmare aside. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t killed before―but never in a hostage situation, where things could have gone deadly wrong.
Jo slept soundly beside him with her hair spilling across her shoulders. Even with a black eye, no woman was more beautiful. Poor baby. She’d been through enough.
He ached to make love to her, but his body refused his conscious demand. A vision of bright red blood tore through his subconscious reminding him of gut-wrenching dream. He squeezed his eyes closed and shoved the dark vision into his shit box.
He touched her cheek with a kiss and rolled from bed. How long would it take this time? After being trapped on the roof in Iraq, he was fine except for a mostly superficial bullet wound. A few nights later, he woke in a night sweat. Nightmares soon turned more debilitating than his sexual disability, but the later had concerned him more. He held on to the fact it was a sensual dream of Jo that brought his physical prowess back to norm.
He padded to the kitchen and started the coffeemaker. His call to Bobby shot straight to voice mail. Maybe the lovebirds had made up. Hopefully, his buddy got lucky this morning. Now, if he could get through today without Jo initiating sex, he’d be on shift tomorrow and would have some time to get his head together.
“Morning.” She yawned stepping in the kitchen.
He continued unloading the dishwasher. “Morning.”
“You’re a good housekeeper.”
“Comes with the job.” He turned and pecked her on the lips. “How’s the eye feel? It’s looking better. A ripe shade of plum with a hint of green.”
“Great. I can hardly wait until it’s puke yellow.” She posed like a model.
She’d always be gorgeous to him. “What do you want to do today? Tomorrow’s Wednesday and I’ll be back at the station.”
She gnawed a fingernail. “I don’t know. I’m debating some summer employment. Some of us may not be assigned stations right away.”
Memorial Day was only two weeks away. If she put her application in, she could play lifeguard until she was picked up by a station. He passed her a cup of coffee. “There’s Ocean Rescue. They always need substitutes.”
“Another summer as a lifeguard isn’t at the top of my list.” She sniffed at the vanilla flavored coffee and smiled before taking a sip. “I could pick up extra shifts at Papagayos.”
Fuck that.
He kept his cool. “Friday and Saturday nights are the biggest tip nights and frankly, I rather you―”
“Let’s not go there this morning.” She rubbed her forehead. “I could call Joel. He offered to cut me in on some surfing lessons.”
Joel and he had surfed together a few times. The surfer had grown up on the Outer Banks and recently emerged as a local entrepreneur in surf lessons and power washing in the off-season. “Might as well see what he’s willing to offer. I’m getting ready to do laundry. Do you need anything washed?”
“Yeah, what I had on yesterday. I only have a three-day rotation now. You firefighters are so organized.” She raised a tawny brow.
“Yep. Going to whip you into shape, probie.” She really hadn’t come to terms with losing everything. Neither had he.
Chapter 43
Jo rang Joel’s number while her domesticated Hemanus sorted lights and darks in the downstairs utility room. Her lover’s support, even in the smallest things, tugged at her heart. She wasn’t the only one suffering loss. She suspected his bad dream last night related to her recent troubles.
After a brief conversation with Joel Surferdude she agreed to meet and discuss his business offer. Even after being assigned to a fire station, it wouldn’t hurt make some extra cash on her days off. She had a long replacement list after the fire.
Ray returned from laundry as she finished the call. “You ready for a road trip?”
She grabbed her new backpack. “Where to?”
“You’ll see.”
* * * *
They arrived at a surf shop and she did a mental head slap. “Right, I don’t have surfboard. God, I just know I’m going to head home one day and mindlessly pull into the driveway. I’m a refugee.”
He held the door for her “You’re my refugee, Dahlin’. I’m tore up about the house, too. But you’re alive and that’s what matters. If shopping doesn’t do it for you, food always helps.”
“Yeah, and a brewski should help put things in prospective.”
“You know what they say. It’s five o’clock somewhere.” Dipping his head, he winked a bright blue over top his shades.
His cool and calm exterior hid whatever intruded on his sleep. If he dreamt about killing Vic, she prayed he didn’t feel guilty, or worse, remorse for the deed. He’d saved her and didn’t deserve to be tormented. She wanted to help but didn’t know how.
Her misgivings about his loyalty were on her. He’d taken care of her every need proving he’d make a wonderful father. Glancing at him, she smiled and silently composed a classified ad. Buff firefighter willing to cook and clean. Excellent at snuffing stalker ex-boyfriends as well as providing out-of-body orgasms.
Speaking of which, he’d left bed this morning without waking her for some loving. She’d have to remedy the situation later on.
Browsing through the boards, sadness crept into her chest. The first surfboard her dad had bought her had perished in the fire. One day she’d wanted to teach her child―
“Don’t see anything you like?” Ray returned from scanning through the longboards.
“Not really in a shopping mood at the moment.”
“You can use mine for now. Have a custom board made when the insurance money comes in. You are a pro, for God’s sake.” He ran a warm hand along her shoulder and drew her close.
“Former.”
“Once a pro always a pro, babe.”
“I trust your judgment.” She nuzzled his cheek. A board didn’t seem important now. Not compared with everything else.
“So how about we take a ride?” He left her g
uessing his next plan.
“Sure, as long as there’s food involved.”
“I’ll never let you go hungry.” He walked her to the truck.
A salty summer like breeze rifled through the windows as they drove north on Route 12. They slowed as they entered the town of Duck. “Did you know the town is named for the masses of waterfowl that used to migrate here?”
“I remember your dad telling us when we were kids.”
“He worked construction here during the early eighties, on beach houses.”
His eyebrows inched over his shades. “Is that how he wound up living on The Banx?”
“He came for a couple of weeks after graduation and stayed with his grandparents at the beach house.” She glanced over to the shops on the sound side. This distance between the sound and ocean was so close you could see both bodies of water.
He tensed at the mention of the house and put both hands on the wheel. “Glad he decided to stay.”
His grief intensified the loss of her home. “He said he fell in love with the beach and picked up a job framing cottages for the summer. A few weeks later, he met my mom and they married a few months later.”
“No kidding.” He reached for her hand. “So how’d he become a firefighter?”
“Helping some volunteers extinguish a house fire near a jobsite. Bobby said he remembered him and our mother arguing about the job. She didn’t want him being a firefighter. Supposedly, she’d lived here all her life and wanted off the sand bar.”
His knuckles whitened. “You never mentioned he knew she wanted to move from here.”
Maybe her dad had pushed her from home for the same reason. So she wouldn’t do the same to a guy or maybe Ray. “We came home from school on a spring afternoon, like today.” “The house was locked, so I went around back and climbed through the garage window.”
A corner of Ray’s mouth curved up. “Ever the athlete.”
“I saw a note on the kitchen table before Bobby found the hidden key. At six, the only words I could read were love mom. I handed it to Bobby and I’ll never forget his face.”
He wore the same broken expression when he called her to the police precinct the night they interrogated Sarah. If her mother ever regretted leaving them, they never knew. Maybe part of her hesitation at leaving home for college and surfing had been because of her mother’s choice. “We never heard from her again.”