by Janie Crouch
He’d never spent one minute with her because he’d felt obligated. It had always been because he wanted to be with her. In whatever capacity she would allow. The team had teased him for months about the friend zone. But the friend zone hadn’t bothered him. At least he’d gotten to see Summer and Chloe regularly.
He’d hoped it would turn into more over time. But even his hopes for a romantic future with her could never have lived up to this. He’d never dreamed he’d be holding her sleeping body next to his after the hours of mind-blowing lovemaking they’d just discovered together.
First in her bed, then in her shower.
Hell, he’d almost taken her right on the kitchen counter where they’d started, when he’d realized at what perfect height that had placed her. But he hadn’t wanted that to be where they first made love, so he’d hustled her to the bed with very little finesse.
Summer hadn’t been overly concerned about finesse either, ripping both of their clothes off as soon as he’d had her in the bedroom. She’d had a few moments of insecurity—it had been a long time for her. She’d had a baby since she’d last been in any sort of physical relationship with a man. But proving how breathtakingly beautiful she was to him had been no hardship. Showing how perfectly they fit together had been an easy task.
And he’d be damn sure to take advantage of that kitchen counter in the near future. Maybe right after breakfast in the morning. And again in a couple of days.
The future. He never thought he’d even be thinking about a future that included Summer. But what had happened between them tonight? He knew this physical relationship wasn’t something either of them took lightly.
Before it went any further, he needed to make sure she understood all of the connections between them. That she knew he’d been there the day Tyler died. About the shot he didn’t take. She wouldn’t forgive him if he didn’t tell her, not after what he’d already kept from her.
If by some miracle she could forgive him for that, then maybe they truly could have a future together.
Tomorrow, he promised himself, everything would be clean between them tomorrow.
Ashton stretched a little, raising one arm over his head. The woman in his arms murmured something in her sleep before flipping herself over so her back was pressed into him.
Her very naked back. Ashton rolled onto his side, spooning her, and pulled her closer, forcing himself not to do anything else. Certain parts of his anatomy were having more trouble with that directive than others, but they both needed sleep. The sweet smell of her hair and curves in all the right places lulled him into closing his eyes.
The silence awoke him.
Ashton’s eyes opened and his body tensed, senses immediately aware that something wasn’t right.
Summer still slept against him, her back to his chest, her head resting on the crook of his elbow. She’d tucked her small feet between his calves.
Had she done something to wake him? Ashton wasn’t used to sleeping with his body in a constant state of contact with someone else. Maybe she’d had a dream or sudden movement and woken him.
But soon Ashton realized the silence was too crisp. Too encompassing. There was no hum of electricity whatsoever. The power had gone out again.
Then he heard it. The soft sound of someone forcing a lock open. As best he could tell the sound was coming from her garage.
Someone was in the house.
Chapter Eleven
Curtis Harper’s face immediately came to Ashton’s mind after last Friday’s shoot-out at the florist. And the man’s total disregard for collateral damage and innocent bystanders.
If it was Harper breaking in, getting Summer out of here was imperative.
Ashton wrapped his arms tightly around her, shaking her slightly.
“Summer,” he whispered in her ear. “We’ve got trouble. Someone has cut the power again and I’m pretty sure is breaking in your garage door.”
He hated to feel her go from soft and pliant to tense and fearful, but it couldn’t be helped.
“We need to get out of bed and hidden from whoever is breaking in here.”
She nodded.
Damn it, Ashton wished he hadn’t left his sidearm at home. It had been a conscious decision—he thought bringing a gun to Summer’s house when he was there to talk about his secret SWAT life might be a little insensitive.
But given the choice between insensitive and dead, he’d take insensitive.
They got out of bed, Ashton slipping on his jeans and Summer pulling his shirt over her head. It was almost completely black outside, with no moon out to provide light through the windows and all electricity off. Ashton took her hand and led her out into the hall, closing the bedroom door behind them softly, before making their way around a corner.
All the time he’d spent in her house fixing things came to his aid now. He knew where every room was, where every potted plant and baby item lay. He was careful not to make any noise.
He heard a low creak at the bottom of the stairs. If it was Harper, the man wasn’t wasting any time. Ashton pulled Summer behind his body near the linen closet door.
The man made no further noise as he came up the stairs. Fortunately, he didn’t look around the hallway before moving directly into Summer’s bedroom.
The perp knew where the room was. That wasn’t good news. Burglars would be looking around, trying to ascertain the most valuable items, not making a beeline for a certain place.
As the man passed them, Ashton caught the faintest gleam of metal in his hand outstretched in front of him. A gun.
He’d cut the power to silence Summer’s alarm and was making his way toward her bedroom with a gun in his hand. This didn’t look like a robbery. It felt like an assassination.
Ashton knew he had to get Summer out of the house, couldn’t take a chance tackling an armed man not knowing if the guy had any backup with him. Ashton could feel Summer’s hands holding onto his waist from behind him. As soon as the man had cleared the hall enough for Ashton and Summer not to be seen, he took her hands and guided them both down the stairs.
It wouldn’t take the guy long to figure out whoever he was looking for—Ashton had to believe it was him and not her—wasn’t in the bedroom.
Unfortunately, Ashton’s car keys and cell phone both were.
As he and Summer moved past the kitchen, Ashton stopped and spun to look at her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Where’s your cell phone?” he whispered.
“Upstairs,” she answered just as quietly, bringing her hands up to grasp his wrists.
Ashton knew they were running out of time and options. They couldn’t run far in what little clothes they wore—a Colorado November wouldn’t allow it and opening and rustling through a closet was out of the question. They had no car keys and no way to call for backup—not that backup could get here quickly enough.
The best Ashton could do was get Summer out of the house while he tried to take the man down. Thank God Chloe wasn’t here.
“You have to run, through the garage the way he came in. Go wake up a neighbor. Get them to call the police.”
“Come with me,” she whispered.
He pushed her toward the door. There was no way he was going to let Harper, or whoever it was, get away without at least trying to stop him.
“I’ll be out in just a minute. You go now.” In order for Ashton to be able to fight an armed man and win, his focus couldn’t be split worrying about Summer’s safety.
He felt Summer’s nails sink into his wrists as they both heard three muffled shots come from up in her bedroom.
The unmistakable sound of a handgun with a silencer.
Time had just run out.
“Go, okay? You have to trust me, Summer.”
He saw her nod, then scoot through the
garage door that had been left propped open. He hid himself over in the corner near the door that led to the basement. The man would be much more wary now that he hadn’t been able to complete his objective of killing them in their sleep.
Ashton wished he had time to make it into the kitchen to grab a weapon, knife, scissors, hell even a rolling pin, but the bottom-stair creak let him know the man was already back down on the first floor.
He’d only have one chance for a surprise attack. And the man had already proved himself willing to kill.
He waited until the guy was almost directly in front of him, looking toward the garage, then jumped quickly out of the shadows. Ashton piled into the man, knocking him into the living room, but the gun remained in his hand.
In the dark he couldn’t tell if the attacker was Harper or not, so Ashton didn’t waste any time trying to figure out if it was. Whoever it was, they wanted to harm him or Summer or both.
His fist found the man’s face. Ashton took a hard punch to the gut and saw the man’s hand swinging up with the gun. He spun and ducked, a shot from the gun barely missing him, the bullet screaming past his head finding a place in the wall behind him. Even with the silencer on the weapon, the sound echoed through the room.
The man howled as Ashton continued his spin, his elbow smashing into the man’s nose. The guy fell backward and Ashton knew he had him.
But then Summer’s entire living room window shattered and Ashton felt a burn across his upper arm, jerking his body to the side.
Damn it, someone was shooting from outside the house.
And Ashton had sent Summer right out into the line of fire when he’d sent her to get help.
Ashton ignored the pain—he’d been in SWAT long enough to know when a gunshot wound wasn’t serious—but knew he was in trouble. The breaking glass and shot from outside had given the other man the time he needed to recover and bring his gun back around and pointed toward Ashton.
“So long, Fitzgerald. I hope you rot in hell. Tell my father hello.”
So it was Harper. Damn it.
But the shot never came. Instead Harper tumbled over as he was hit across the back and shoulders from behind.
Summer.
She’d just saved Ashton’s life.
Harper dropped his gun but wasn’t unconscious. He rolled over on the ground and reached out and yanked her leg, pulling her to the ground with him, his fist flying toward her face. She raised her arms to cover her head but Ashton still heard her cry of pain as the man’s fist connected.
Ashton leapt for Harper, rolling him away from Summer. He had no doubt he could take Harper, but it was the other man, the man who had just proven reckless enough to shoot through a large window, obviously not caring too much if Harper got hurt in the process, who worried Ashton. Ashton just needed to get Summer out of here.
Live to fight another day.
“Get my car keys upstairs,” he said to Summer. “Stay low and away from windows. Harper has a partner out there.” Ashton blocked a gut punch from the man beneath him, one that would’ve certainly knocked all the wind from Ashton. He reached for the gun Harper had dropped, but the other man kicked it to the opposite side of the room.
Summer ran up the stairs.
Ashton threw two punches at Harper’s head, followed up by a blow to the midsection, making sure Harper’s attention didn’t focus on Summer.
“I’ve got them.” Ashton saw Summer’s legs before he heard the words. He took a punch to the ribs, but then cracked Harper along the jaw. While Harper was momentarily stunned, Ashton jumped up and grabbed Summer’s hand, running for the garage door.
A shot splintered the doorframe as they ran through. Ashton couldn’t tell if it was from Harper or his partner. Ashton clicked the automatic unlock button for his rental car as they ran outside of the garage.
“Get in,” he told Summer. “And stay low.”
Ashton got in and started the ignition, throwing the car in reverse and dipping low in the seat as Harper ran out of the house. He pushed Summer’s head down as shots shattered the glass of two of the side windows. Other bullets slammed into the metal of the car’s frame.
Damn it, this was his second shot-up vehicle in a week. And the car rental insurance probably didn’t cover bullet holes.
He spun the car in the street and stepped on the gas, keeping his head so low that he could hardly see over the steering wheel. Only after they turned the corner did Ashton sit up. But even then he didn’t slow his speed. Those guys had a car, too, and he wasn’t sure how far they were willing to take this.
He sped them out of Summer’s neighborhood and began weaving through different side streets, turning every few blocks. Only after he was sure Harper and his partner weren’t following them did he slow down and pull Summer up from where she hovered in the floorboards.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, climbing into the seat. “A few little cuts from the glass, I think, but overall I’m okay. You?”
“That first bullet skimmed my shoulder but didn’t do real damage.” He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, leaning over to kiss her temple. “I thought I had lost you when I realized there was a second shooter out there. Thought I’d sent you right into his line of fire.”
“I never even left the garage. I thought you might need help. Which you did.”
He kissed her again. “Yes, I did.”
“I don’t know who those guys were, Ashton, or why they would want to kill me. Do you think they were robbers? What would I have that they would want to steal?”
He kept his arm around her as he drove. “Let me call Omega, get people on the scene at your house as soon as possible. They weren’t after you. They were after me.”
Curtis Harper trying to take his vengeance on Ashton, and Summer had just been collateral damage.
“What if Chloe had been there?” Summer began to shudder. “What if she’d been in her crib when that guy broke in?”
Ashton stopped the car at a dark gas station, pulled far to the side where the car couldn’t be seen from the road. He put it in Park, then yanked Summer across the seat and into his lap.
She only had on his T-shirt and the windows had been shot out. He rubbed his hands up and down on her arms and legs, trying to instill some warmth back into her body. But it was the thought of her daughter being hurt that had her body shivering—no amount of external warmth would heat that frozen place inside. Ashton knew, because the thought of Chloe or Summer being hurt brought on the same chill in him.
“Summer, I promise we will figure all this out and I will get you and Chloe both somewhere safe, okay?”
He held her tightly to his chest as sobs broke loose from her. No one could blame her for the breakdown. Ashton just held her close, murmuring words of comfort.
“Let me get us to Omega Sector, sweetheart,” he said against her forehead as her emotional storm ran its course. “Get a team out to your place and make sure you and I are safe and warm.”
“I’ve got to get Chloe, too,” she said between shuddery breaths.
He nodded, understanding the need to have her close. “Joe and Laura will bring her. They’ll meet us there.”
Ashton eased her back to her seat, then stepped outside to use the payphone. The sooner Omega could have a forensic team at Summer’s condo, the sooner they’d have answers.
He dialed Steve Drackett’s cell phone, a number he had memorized.
“Drackett.”
“Steve, it’s Ashton. I’ve got a situation at Summer Worrall’s condo. Curtis Harper just broke in and tried to kill us, and he had a partner on the outside.”
All sounds of sleep erased from Steve’s voice. “Are you secure? Injured?”
“We’re secure. Minor injuries. I’m bringing Summer into HQ. We need a team a
t her house right away, armed agents before the lab people get there. I’m assuming Harper and the other guy are gone, but send someone armed just in case.”
“I’ll take care of it. You just get Summer somewhere safe. The baby?”
Steve and his wife, Rosalyn, were about to have their own child, so Ashton wasn’t surprised his boss asked. “Chloe is with Joe and Laura. We’re going to need to get a safe house set up for Summer and Chloe. I doubt my house is secure.”
“You’re sure it was Curtis Harper?”
“Yes. And he’s way out of control if he’s breaking into Summer’s house to get to me.”
“Alright, I’ll see you at HQ in a few. I’ll let them know you’re coming.”
Ashton hung up with Steve and turned back to the car. Summer had her legs tucked under his shirt and her arms wrapped around herself.
He wanted to hit a wall. After everything she’d been through in her short life, Summer deserved to live free of all danger.
He would do whatever it took to make Summer and Chloe safe again.
Chapter Twelve
Summer felt like she may never be warm again. Even now, two hours after being inside Omega Sector headquarters, fully clothed, with a cup of coffee in hand, she still felt chilled. She wore a black shirt and cargo pants provided by Lillian Muir, the only female member of the SWAT team and the closest person to Summer’s size. Summer remembered seeing her at the grocery store yesterday.
Yesterday? Was it truly less than twenty-four hours ago?
Summer felt as though her entire life had changed in twenty-four hours. Finding out Ashton wasn’t the handyman, that he worked for Omega Sector, that he knew about Tyler’s death.
That Ashton had wanted her from the first time he’d come to her condo.
Making love to him last night had changed everything, also. She could still feel the soreness in muscles that, before last night, hadn’t gotten much use in the last couple of years. The thought of their lovemaking was almost enough to break the chill inside her.
It had been everything she’d dreamed lovemaking would be with Ashton. And he very, very definitely was not shy.