by Debra
He waved, but she wasn’t looking at him. Something inside caught her attention and she let the door close between them. After a short hesitation, she disappeared into the station under the arm of her cop friend.
She didn’t look back.
His heart, the organ he’d thought only useful for pumping his blood, cracked. Bled. He sat down again, waiting. She would come back.
He’d believed her last night when she’d declared she wasn’t done with him. If he’d misinterpreted, if she’d only meant she wasn’t done with the sex, he’d count it a starting point. He’d never expected to meet a woman who wanted more than his body or money. He’d never gone looking for the kind of woman who’d encourage him to give more. But he’d damned well found her, hadn’t he?
He pushed to his feet and stalked across the street, done with waiting.
“Charly left.”
Will swiveled, glaring at the cop who’d spoken. “No, she didn’t. I was waiting for her.”
“Through the back.” The cop jerked his thumb toward the back hall.
“She doesn’t have her truck.”
“Steve drove. She was upset.”
“Naturally.” Will had a plan to fix that.
A man with a singular focus, he searched the station.
“She’s not here,” the cop repeated when Will halted at the back door. “You should go on home.”
Impossible. It was the only coherent word his mind could form. Impossible that she’d walk away without a word. He wanted to collapse. To rail. To demand an explanation. The tumultuous energy propelled him out of the station and down the street. It couldn’t be over. It damn well wasn’t over.
Will’s determined stride gave way to a jog, then an all-out run as he aimed toward the Binali Backcountry store. She’d want to get her truck to go home. A slave to the emotions choking him, he ran right past her truck before he skidded to a stop. Her truck was parked on the street in front of the pub. The pub. Where he’d wanted to be anyway.
He swiped the rain from his hair and yanked open the heavy wooden door. His eyes on her, he quickly dealt with the customers who’d already heard the news of Lancaster’s takedown. Shaking free of the gauntlet of congratulations, he walked straight up to where she sat perched on a stool at the end of the bar.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded roughly.
“You’re wet.”
“It’s only water.”
She turned away, asking the bartender for a towel.
His vision hazed. He couldn’t take her back one more second. “Look at me.” If he touched her, he’d likely toss her over his shoulder and haul her away to his apartment until they settled a few personal terms.
Barbaric, but it held a certain appeal. As plans went, sometimes improvisation was required. “You left me.”
“No. I didn’t. Let me explain.”
“No.” He crowded closer, pinning her lithe body between him and the bar.
“Will.” Charly looked up into his face, feeling terrible, and terribly wanted at the same time. “I didn’t leave you.”
His lips, soft and hot on hers, smothered her explanation. She marveled that his clothes, rain soaked and plastered to his sculpted body, didn’t just steam away from the intense heat between them. She pushed at his shoulders, for all the good it did. She might as well have been shoving at a mountain. “Will,” she whispered when he eased back at last.
The hurt and confusion in his blue gaze, knowing she’d put it there, made her ache. “I didn’t leave you.” She got all the words out this time. “I wanted to surprise you. They said you’d gone home. I thought I’d bring a hot meal, cold beer and dessert to your place.”
“Why?” His dark eyebrows slashed down into a frown she found more adorable than intimidating. He shook his head, scattering the droplets of rain clinging to his hair. “Doesn’t matter. We need to talk.”
“Yes.” She bounced a little in her seat. She needed to tell him how she felt. Then maybe he could forgive her for what she’d just done on a wild impulse. “Yes, we do.” Worried she’d overstepped, she knew she’d find a way to weather that storm if he got upset.
If? Upset was pretty much a guarantee. She stopped herself before that boulder could gather momentum.
As she’d been giving her statements, Will might as well have been in the room with her. She’d felt him that strongly. She’d given the facts, won the battle against the tears as she relived Clint’s death, and managed not to do a happy dance while recounting burying her knife in Lancaster’s leg.
When she thought of everything they’d overcome, she understood on a soul-deep level the motto “life is too short” that people often quoted so carelessly. She’d come down the mountain a changed woman and she’d taken the appropriate action in the aftermath.
Will needed his family—at the bare minimum he needed to give his parents a chance at reconciliation. A chance to get reacquainted with their remaining son. And she’d be there, helping him reconcile or helping him cut the ties.
Whatever life tossed at them next, they’d meet it head-on. As a team. He might not realize it yet, but she would soon make it clear he was no longer a one-man operation.
“I know that look.”
“You just think you know that look.” She patted the stool next to her. “The order’s almost ready. Then we can go to my place and talk.”
“I was going to take you to my place tonight.”
She reached over and rubbed her hand across his thigh. His cargo pants were drenched, but she could feel the warmth of him under the fabric. “Maybe that is a better idea.”
He could change into dry clothes and they could have a reasonable discussion before she stripped him naked and let him have his way with her. She felt her cheeks warm with anticipation.
He covered her hand with his. “So let’s go. We’re wasting time.”
She felt the urgency nipping at her, but she needed to get the words out. “In a minute. We need food.” She cleared her throat, cleared out the tension making her voice tight. “There’s something I want to say first.”
“I’m all ears.” His thumb rubbed slow circles against her palm.
“Okay.” She took a breath, considered ordering a shot to smooth out her jangling nerves. “I had Steve look up your parents.” As she feared, he stopped moving, doing that turn-to-stone thing he’d done on the mountain just before he’d strike. “Hear me out,” she said, chafing his hand between hers. “I want to meet your family.”
“Charly.”
The raw pain in his voice lanced through her heart. She barreled on. “Life’s too short, Will. We can’t live with regrets and questions that are too easily answered.”
“Nothing’s easy about my parents.” He swiveled on the seat, the water from the knees of his rain-soaked pants seeping through her jeans. She felt him tremble and knew it wasn’t just the cold.
“It might not be so bad,” she said. “I talked to your mom.”
The sound he made was some sad cross between a laugh and a snort.
“Your parents love you, I know it. They love you,” she said again, “even if they were too hurt to show it the last time you talked.”
“What did you tell them?”
“No revealing details, I swear. I thought about saying they’d won a trip from Binali Backcountry, but I didn’t want them to blow that off. I wanted to be sure they came out. I told them you were working here, that we’re friends.”
He raised his eyes to hers, and that hot gaze lit up her whole system before he looked away.
“I wasn’t going to tell them that.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway. I asked them to come out and see you.”
His silence unnerved her. Steve had warned her this was a mistake. He’d helped her find the right Mr. and Mrs. Chase of Illinois, but he’d warned her all the same.
Dread pooled just under her heart, threatening her resolve. She resisted the urge to backpedal. Will might not like her taking the initiative; he mi
ght not want to admit it, but he needed this. If only for closure, he needed this.
“They said yes.”
“I see.”
“Do you?” She dipped her head, but he was staring down at their joined hands. “Do you understand you don’t have to meet them alone? I’ll be with you. Right beside you.” She wished like hell he’d look at her, say something. React. Good, bad or indifferent, any reaction was better than the silence. “If they’re awful to you, if they don’t want to try and be a family, you can tell me I told you so for the rest of my days. Right after I kick them to the curb.”
She watched his throat work as he swallowed. Would he ever find the words to reply? She could take it, whatever he wanted to say, she told herself.
His blue eyes moved like a caress from their joined hands up and over her face. When he met her gaze, the warm tenderness made her tremble. “I love you, Charly.”
“What?” She couldn’t have heard him right. Of all the responses she’d expected, that wasn’t it. Wasn’t even in the top ten. “What did you say?” she repeated dumbly.
“You heard me.” He pushed on her chin until her mouth closed. “That’s why I waited for you in the rain. That’s what I needed to tell you. To show you.”
A delicious shiver shot down her spine. “Will.”
“Right here is where I need to be. Not just for the job. Here.” He tapped her knee. “Out there,” he said, tilting his head toward the door. “You’ve changed me and I didn’t even know I needed it. You did that. Life is definitely too short to hold back the words. I love you.”
She blinked away the sheen of tears blurring her vision and spied the laughter in the clear blue depths of his eyes. “Say it again.”
He leaned in until they were nearly nose to nose. “Maybe later,” he whispered. “After you say it back.”
He meant it. The realization hit her heart with all the force of a bolt of lightning. This wasn’t some ill-advised ploy to extend the connection they’d discovered on the mountain. It wasn’t a tactic to keep her in his bed. Her imagination took a quick and happy detour thinking about making love with Will in the soft comfort of a real bed.
“Charly?”
She grinned at him, the happiness bubbling through her system. Of course he meant it. Will didn’t say things he didn’t mean. After everything they’d encountered, he sat here surrounded by half the town speaking the most powerful words she’d ever heard.
He loved her. Her.
“Amazing.” The word slipped past her lips, an absolute truth.
He cocked his head. “That might be close enough.”
“No. Not even.” She hopped off the stool, enjoyed the little wobble in her knees. She stepped in until her hips were surrounded by his strong thighs, until she could lean on the unfailing wall of his muscular chest. “I love you, too,” she murmured against his lips.
She melted against him and a round of applause started, peppered with suggestions to get a room. Pulling back, peering at the onlookers, she soaked it all in. This was home, and as complete as she’d felt before Will, she felt a hundred times better now.
The bartender came out with the to-go bags, adding a bottle of champagne. “On the house for a couple of happy heroes.”
“Thanks!” She reached for Will’s hand, but he scooped her up into his arms. Her heart fluttered in her chest. “Seriously?”
“I’m sweeping you off your feet.” He kissed her. “And I’ll never break your heart.”
“Same goes. You’re my best fantasy come true.”
“Tell me more.” He winked. “I’ll make them all come true. One by one.”
Her pulse pounded as he swept her out of the pub to another round of cheers. She thought for sure he’d put her down once they were outside, but he carried her straight up the block to his apartment. She let her head drop to his shoulder with a happy sigh. Fantasies didn’t come to life any better than her personal hero with a heart as big as the mountain.
Epilogue
Thomas Casey updated his password for his online bank access, grateful it was still possible. He didn’t like thinking about the setbacks they’d be facing now if the Blackout Key hadn’t been recovered.
He’d been right about Will, despite their rocky start. The new mailman in Colorado meant Thomas was one step closer to completing the task force. One step closer to retirement.
As he clicked to open the next personnel file on his computer, he hoped he could make it three for three.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from DISARMING DETECTIVE by Elizabeth Heiter.
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Chapter One
The instant Isabella Cortez left the safety of the FBI building, goose bumps skittered across her skin and her senses went on high alert. Her instincts and training, like a sudden alarm shrieking inside her head, told her she wasn’t alone.
The door slammed shut behind her before she could dart back inside, and Ella cursed the heavy briefcase weighing down one hand and the stack of file folders clenched in the other. Just because she was taking her first real vacation in two years didn’t mean killers took time off, so her cases were coming with her. Assuming she made it to her vacation.
Tonight, she was the last one out of the bland office building in Aquia, Virginia. It was set back off the road, nestled deep in the woods, and manned by an armed guard. Entrance to the parking lot was supposed to be reserved for the FBI’s Criminal Investigative Analysts who worked there and no one else. If a visitor was arriving, the guard at the gate called ahead. Anyone who could make it past security was a threat.
Pushing back her fear, she blinked, trying to adjust to the darkness outside. Her arms tensed, but she didn’t drop the files and reach for her gun. Not yet. Not until she identified the threat. If she acted too soon, she’d probably get shot.
No, all the instincts honed by two years in the Behavioral Analysis Unit told her to let him think she was oblivious. Let him show himself before she brought him down.
Her heart thudded too fast, reminding Ella all too clearly of her first years in the FBI, in the gangs unit in Dallas, when she’d taken a bullet to the leg and her partner had taken two to the chest. At the memory, all the nerves in her leg burst to life, painful and fire-poker hot.
Lock it down, Cortez. Focus.
A tiny movement made her glance left, toward the only two cars in the lot. A bulky figure shifted beside her car, stepping into the dim glow of the overhead light.
He was big, taller than her by half a foot and outweighing her by a good fifty pounds and all of it muscle. But none of that mattered if she didn’t let him get close.
Her eyes darted to his hands. Empty. She let out a breath, but it caught when she spotted the telltale bulge at his hip. No way was she giving him a chance to go for the weapon. She dropped her briefcase and files fast, yanking her Glock pistol from its holster. “Hands up!”
“Whoa!” He lifted his hands near his head. “Look, I—”
“Higher. Get on your knees.”
“Hey, I didn’t—”
“Now!” Ella took a step closer, let him see the dead seriousness in her eyes, the solid, steady aim of her gun. “Pull your weapon out with your left hand. Toss it over here.”
“Crap.” He complied, getting on his knees and sending
his own Glock skidding across the pavement toward her.
“You have any other weapons on you?”
“No. Look, I’m a homicide detective. I flew up here from Florida to talk to a profiler.”
She narrowed her eyes, noting the slight Southern drawl in his voice now that she wasn’t laser-focused on containing him. “How’d you get in here?”
“The guard let me in. My badge is in my pocket, okay?”
Ella frowned. With the regular guard on maternity leave, maybe the newbie had broken protocol. “Fine. Toss it to me with your wallet.”
He let out a breath through his nose, something like amusement in his voice. “Wow, you’re thorough.”
He was right about that. At the BAU, her job was to create criminal personality profiles of the country’s most depraved killers. Every day, her work told her what one inattentive moment, one second of blind trust, could cost.
It was a lesson she’d first learned nearly ten years ago, when her best friend had been violently attacked. It had introduced Ella to a kind of evil she’d never known existed, and completely altered the path of her life. Now, viewing everyone as a potential threat seemed almost normal.
He tossed his wallet and badge over, but even before she picked it up, she knew it was the real thing. Still keeping her weapon leveled on him—mostly for scaring the crap out of her and making her dump her case files all over the ground—she flipped open the wallet to his ID. The face staring back at her, with its hard lines and no-nonsense stare, looked every bit a homicide detective. “Logan Greer. Oakville, Florida.”
Reholstering her weapon underneath her blazer, she tossed the wallet back and tried to slow her heart rate to normal speed. “Way to make an impression, Greer.”
He gave her a smile full of self-deprecating humor that made her realize again that the bulky size that had unnerved her in the darkness was impressive muscle tone, that beneath the piercing stare were moss green eyes. She was a sucker for green eyes. Too bad she hadn’t run into him on the beach next week with a margarita in her hand instead of on her last day before vacation, toting a gun.