Hidden Judgment

by Diane Benefiel

  She walked through the yard littered with bright orange and brown leaves shed by the giant Oregon white oak. Her entire world had changed in the few weeks since she’d first come home with Sam.

  The dogs were barking from inside. Sam opened the door and they scrambled out, tails wagging.

  “Hey, beautiful babies.” Her gaze rose to Sam’s in alarm. “Are they starving? Have they been fed?”

  “They’re not starving. Before I went after you, I called Dalia. She took care of them and I swung by earlier this morning to feed them.”

  She looked at him sharply. “Before you went after me means you planned to get taken.”

  “We’ll talk about it. Let’s go in.”

  She followed Sam into the house, the dogs remaining outside. He took her bags up the back staircase and Ellie wandered around. The flowers she’d put in a vase on the window ledge had faded, the bananas in the fruit basket were now spotted. In the living room, Gumbie lay curled on the couch.

  She scooped up the cat to hold on her lap as she sat. Gumbie began kneading her paws and purring. Water ran through the pipes upstairs and she guessed Sam was taking a shower. She should begin gathering her things together and pack her suitcase. As much as Sam said he wanted her to stay, she couldn’t hang around. Two weeks of being off work was a long time. Maybe she’d fly to San Diego and spend that time with her mom and stepdad.

  She’d gotten over Sam once before, she could do it again.

  The other option was to simply talk to Sam and tell him how she felt. What if his feelings for her ran deeper than responsibility? The thought of opening herself, of being vulnerable, scared her like nothing else. But what did she have to lose? She could ditch her pride and lay herself open.

  She closed her eyes and cuddled Gumbie, grateful for the cat’s warm comfort.

  ***

  Feeling a little more human after his shower, Sam stepped into the living room, his gaze immediately drawn to the woman sitting on the couch with the cat on her lap. The pensive expression on her face pulled at his heart.

  “You okay?”

  He sat next to her, shoulders touching. Gumbie jumped to the floor with her tail swishing.

  Ellie turned her head to face him, eyes sober. “Sure, I’m fine.”

  He didn’t believe that. He reached out a finger to loop a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ve got to be careful where I touch. You have so many injuries I could hurt you.”

  They killed him, every one of the cuts and bruises she’d received because of her assignment to protect him.

  “The only one that still hurts is my knee.” She plucked at a thread on the rolled cuff of the sweatshirt she still wore. Without looking at him, she said, “You let Richard Jameson kidnap you.”

  “Heard that, did you?”

  “No, guessed it.” She met his gaze. “You didn’t trust me to get myself out of that situation.”

  “They sent me a photo of you in handcuffs. I had no idea what they were doing to you or how badly you were hurt. I felt you’d have a better chance if I was with you.”

  “I was supposed to be protecting you, that was my job.”

  He chose his words carefully. “You’re good at your job, but you’re not invincible.”

  “I was working on a plan.” She tugged harder on the thread. “I think the problem is that I’m a woman. Since I started this assignment, you’ve been resistant to me doing my job. You think you have to protect women, so therefore a woman can’t protect you. Maybe it has something to do with losing your mom and stepmom the way you did. You think women need saving.”

  He shook his head. “Interesting, but not accurate. You’re more than capable, and you were doing a fine job on your assignment. I’m still in one piece, aren’t I? But it’s not women in general protecting me that I have a problem with, it’s you.”

  “Wow. At least you’re honest.”

  He grasped the hand worrying the thread. He used his thumb to stroke her palm, then raised it to press a kiss in its center. “Try this for honest: I’m in love with you.”

  She went perfectly still, so still that he didn’t think she was breathing. Not a good reaction.

  “What did you say?”

  He turned to face her. “I’m in love with you, Eleanor.” He brought her hand to cover his heart. “You grabbed me right here and I haven’t been the same since. I don’t want to be the same.” He huffed out a breath. “There’s a part of me that’s you, Ellie. Maybe it’s corny, but I was only half alive until you came into my life.”

  She didn’t move. He was sure he’d misjudged, that he’d laid himself bare and she would politely tell him to fuck off.

  But in the next moment she beamed a beautiful smile and launched herself into his arms to rain kisses over his face. “It’s not corny, it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

  His heart swelled until he thought it would explode. He gathered her close for a long moment where he felt everything inside him settle, then, hands framing her cheeks, he held her back so he could see her eyes. “No matter how good a marshal you are, and you’re damn good, I’ll always try to protect you. It’s impossible for me not to.”

  Her arms went around his neck and she buried her face in his shoulder. He heard a telltale sniffle and his heart clutched. “Are those bad tears or good tears?”

  She shook her head. “They’re happy tears.”

  He tugged her back again. A tear slid down her cheek and he wiped it with his thumb. “Happy tears are good, right?”

  “Yeah, they’re good. Better than good.”

  She shifted so she was sitting on his lap. He closed his eyes as she ran a hand through his hair and pressed her lips to his like she couldn’t keep from touching him. That was okay because he pretty much felt the same.

  His eyes opened when she took his hand and mimicked his move, laying it over her heart. “I had a thing for you thirteen years ago. It never entirely went away. When I met you again it slammed back into me like a tidal wave, and it hasn’t let up since.” A brief flash of vulnerability crossed her face, then disappeared. “I love you, Sam Creed.”

  He felt the grin splitting his face. “We should say that a lot, make up for lost time.” He leaned forward and their lips met. “I love you.”

  She kissed him. “I love you.”

  With a nip to her bottom lip he held her away from him, trying to reach the pocket of his jeans. “Move it, woman. I need something.”

  Her eyes danced as she rubbed against the bulge in his jeans. “Maybe I need something, too.”

  “Ha ha. Don’t distract me.”

  He pulled the small box from his pocket. Her gaze locked on it like it was a magnet and she did the frozen thing again. He was beginning to suspect that it was her shocked speechless reaction. He opened the box and held the ring between them. He was probably moving too fast, but with his love so huge this was the only possible course.

  “A young man gave my aunt this ring when he asked her to marry him. She cherished it for the rest of her life.” He steadied himself with a deep breath. “Will you wear it, Eleanor? Will you marry me? Will you love me forever?”

  The blue of her eyes looked deep enough to drown in. “Yes, Sam. I’ll marry you. I’ll love you forever.”

  He slid the ring back on her finger where it belonged. She held out her hand so the emerald-cut diamond caught the light. “I thought we were done when you took back the ring.”

  “You insisted I take it back. Worried the hell out of me because our fake engagement felt real to me. But I needed to propose properly.”

  She leaned forward and their mouths met as they clung to each other.

  When she moved against the erection nudging her thigh, he shook his head. “It kills me, but we can’t.”

  “We can, and we should.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Concussion, remember?” She wiggled again and he groaned, then set her away from him. “I asked Ben. He said you have to limit
your physical activity for a couple of weeks, and that includes sexual activity.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “I would not joke about that.”

  “It’s going to be a long two weeks.”

  ***

  Ellie and Bella sat next to each other at the small kitchen table while the men did the after-dinner cleanup. Ellie wasn’t allowed to carry a dish or even fill the dishwasher, they said, for an entire week. For the moment, she was okay with that. Cleo and Tony lay on their bed, Cleo’s soft eyes steady on Ellie. The little dog had remained close all afternoon.

  Bella tapped Ellie with the toe of her suede boot. “I’m happy for you, El.”

  Ellie tipped her head on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m happy for me, too.” She held out her hand so the diamond caught the light. “See my ring? It’s the most beautiful engagement ring ever.”

  “Agreed, it is the most beautiful engagement ring ever.” Bella pulled out her phone and began scrolling. “I want to show you something.” She tapped, then angled the screen.

  Ellie peered at the image. Bella had caught the moment after Sam had first put the ring on Ellie’s finger all those weeks ago. The emotion evident as they looked into each other’s eyes jolted her. “It looks like we’re already in love.”

  “It does. You were. I’m framing this photo as an engagement gift.”

  “Aw, thanks.”

  A knock sounded. Ellie stood and crossed to the front door to look through the peephole. A young man stood under the porch light, head bowed.

  “Hold on.” Sam came behind her and bent forward to look through the peephole. “I don’t recognize him.” Seth and Linc joined them. Sam draped his arm around Ellie’s shoulder as he opened the door. The young man took a step back, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He probably had a reason to be nervous, because two of the tall men looking at him were armed and wore badges.

  The resemblance struck her, and Ellie guessed his identity.

  “Jeremy Finster?”

  A nervous gaze darted to her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Linc stepped onto the porch. “Jeremy, I’m Deputy US Marshal Lincoln Jameson. I want you to turn around, spread your feet with your toes pointed outward, and lace your fingers behind your head.”

  He complied. Linc gripped his hands and did the pat down. “He’s clean.”

  Linc allowed him to turn around and face them. “Why are you here?”

  He cleared his throat. “I want to apologize to Judge Creed.”

  His hand still on Ellie’s shoulder, Sam nodded to the others. “I’ve got this.” After a long look, Linc returned to the house and closed the door.

  Gaze direct, Sam said, “Well?”

  Jeremy cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, sir. I screwed up. I should never have messed up your yard or thrown that flashbang.”

  “This is my fiancée, Ellie. If it had been only the yard, I wouldn’t be so pissed. But Ellie’s everything to me, and she got hurt with the flashbang. We’re lucky the injuries weren’t more serious.”

  Jeremy’s Adam’s apple bobbed again and he shifted his gaze to Ellie. “I’m sorry, ma’am.” She couldn’t see anything other than remorse on his face. “I was reading stuff online. It messed up my thinking. My dad talked to me, made me look at things different.” He looked at Sam. “I know Dad has some other trouble at the courthouse, but he didn’t know what I did until the cops came. I knew it was wrong when I did it, but I was dumb, and I know I’m still in trouble with the law. No matter what happens, I’m sorry.”

  Ellie nodded. “Apology accepted.”

  Sam extended his hand. “Apology accepted.”

  Jeremy looked relieved and shook Sam’s hand. “Thanks.”

  They watched the young man walk up the driveway. Sam pulled Ellie into him, his chin resting on top of her head,

  “That was hard for him,” Ellie murmured.

  “It should be hard. I’m glad he had the guts to do it.”

  “Me too.”

  Contentment seeped through her as they stood, arms around each other. Ellie tipped back her head. “I really like your house. Am I going to move in with you?”

  “Is the house all you really like?”

  “No. I really like you, too, Sam Creed.”

  “Hell yeah, you’re moving in with me. Then we’ve got a wedding to plan.”

  He leaned forward and Ellie felt the promise of his kiss burst through her like a bright shining star.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  National Readers’ Choice Award winner for her novel, Solitary Man, Diane Benefiel has been an avid reader all her life. She enjoys a wide range of genres, from westerns to fantasy to mysteries, but romance has always been a favorite. She writes what she loves best to read – emotional, heart-gripping romantic suspense novels. She likes writing romantic suspense because she can put the hero and heroine in all sorts of predicaments that they have to work together to overcome.

  A native Southern Californian, Diane enjoys nothing better than summer. For a high school history teacher, summer means a break from teenagers, and summer allows her to spend her early mornings immersed in her current writing project. With both kids living out of the house, in addition to writing, she enjoys camping and gardening with her husband.

  Diane loves hearing from her readers.

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