Sinful Secrets

by Melissa Ohnoutka

  “Jo Jo, you gotta wake up. Life is too short to let good things slide by. And that man, that deputy, that chance you thought you lost all those years ago is back and staring you right in the face. Don’t you dare mess this up.”

  “I’m not sure when I’ll even see him again.” She sighed.

  Her friend smiled, that wicked I-know-something-you-don’t grin that meant Joanna was about to be blindsided. “Don’t be silly. You’ll see him tomorrow.”

  “What are you talking about? What did you do?”

  “I have to take Andrew to work in the morning. There’s no way I’m leaving you all the way out here alone. You’re on pain meds. You could fall. Hurt yourself. So I made a little phone call. It’ll do him good, too, to take his mind off the case. You’ll both thank me, I promise.”

  No. She wasn’t ready to face him or her strong feelings for him. Still so unsure of where they stood and mortified she’d stirred up such painful memories from his past, she wanted more time to prepare. Her ears burned from the heat rising to her head. To make the sobering matter worse, Sam laughed. “This isn’t funny.”

  Her friend turned serious. “I agree. It’s not the least bit funny. But it’s something you have to do. Whatever the outcome, you have to face him. See this through. You’ll never be happy if you don’t. You’ll always wonder, what if? What if I’d opened up? Taken that chance?”

  She started to argue, but stopped, knowing it was futile. “He’s coming here?”

  “Yes, he’ll be here later in the morning.”

  “Did you threaten him? Lie to him?”

  “No, he sounded eager to see you.”

  “Right.” He probably wanted to lecture her on how stupid it had been to sneak off without protection.

  “This could be your second chance. Not many people get those.” She let her hands slide down to grasp Joanna’s tight fists. “All I’m saying is to give it an honest chance, hon. Lower those walls for once and see what happens.” She scooted off the edge of the bed and headed toward the bathroom. “I’m going to take a quick shower, get the lake water off my skin. Then we can curl up beneath the covers and talk all night like we used to. Whatever disagreement you and Ryker had can’t be as terrible as you’re making it out to be. I’m betting the feelings you share can bridge any gap.”

  Joanna didn’t acknowledge her last statement, didn’t want to deal with the possibilities of them as a couple right now. She looked out the window at the darkness beyond, thankful to end the uncomfortable conversation. After the bathroom door closed, she rearranged the pillows so that her upper half sat straight up against the headboard and tried her best to stay awake. She switched her position, even pinched her arm a couple of times, but nothing worked. Finally, with a frustrated moan she gave into the exhaustion and let her weary body slide down beneath the warmth of the covers. Stupid pain pills.

  …

  The next thing Joanna knew, the sun bathed the room in a beautiful, warm golden hue and Sam was nowhere to be found.

  “Figures,” she mumbled, slowly pushing the covers back and sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to collect her thoughts. She grimaced. Too many decisions to make without caffeine. What time was it anyway? She needed to pull herself together—Ryker would be arriving soon. An eagerness to see him and hash it all out played havoc with her nerves. They had a lot to discuss. The undeniable urge for coffee throbbing through her veins, she headed for the kitchen, her bare feet padding against the cool tiled floor, the ache in her leg more annoying than anything else now.

  “Good morning, sunshine.”

  The familiar masculine tone sent prickles of anticipation racing to her toes and stopped her progress at the top of the second step. She’d thought she was alone. “Ryker? What are you doing here already?”

  “It’s ten o’clock, sleepyhead.” He smiled. “Sam let me in early this morning, and I slept on the couch. You were out cold when she left to take Andrew back to work, so she didn’t wake you. Said she’d be back later.”

  Joanna fought off the irregular breathing, her attention drifting over the rumpled couch cushions. “I see.” As his gaze took an intimate, leisurely stroll down the length of her body, she remembered her skimpy nightgown and turned to bolt back to the bedroom. The sudden twinge in her leg surprised her as she turned too quickly, and she blew out the breath she’d hissed in. “Um, I should get dressed.”

  “Sam told me to tell you she’s doing a load of laundry. She’ll pick up more of your clothes before heading back.” He didn’t move from his position on the oversize couch, his bold inspection of her evoking all kinds of fluttering low in her stomach. Just the sight of him, his tall and ruggedly handsome presence dominating the room, those intriguing brown eyes lapping up every inch of her was enough to challenge the tight restraint on her self-control.

  Good grief. No trace of the sadness she’d noticed at the hospital remained. He was here, right in front of her. Looking like he wanted to…

  “Oh, she did, did she?” Joanna drew in a long breath. Darn Sam and her wanting to help fate along. “Well, isn’t that convenient.”

  “Come sit down. I need to tell you something.” His handsome features morphed into a darker rendition of the expression she’d seen that day in the hospital when talking about his father. “And I don’t know how you’re going to take it.”

  Thousands of ideas shot through her head. He was going to start this conversation about the two of them just like that?

  He held up the soft floral print throw from the back of the couch, apparently aware of her embarrassment.

  “Thank you,” she said, untwisting her hands from in front of her and moving forward, down the steps and into the living room to snag it. She quickly wrapped herself within its soft fuzzy warmth—both for modesty as well as security. It smelled like him. Heavenly. Feeling her heartbeat spike at the thought of him sleeping in such close proximity to her, she eased down on the opposite side of the couch, pulling her bare legs beneath the blanket, being careful not to agitate her stiff leg.

  “There’s been a new development in the case.”

  “The case?” Her choked tone betrayed her disappointment, his raised brow a clue he’d caught it, too. Great. So he was here to talk about the stupid case, not the two of them, and she’d made a fool out of herself by letting her emotions get the best of her. She let her head fall back against the cushion with a thud. She was going to kill Sam! She could have at least woken her up so she’d have time to get dressed.

  He scooted closer across the leather seat, leaning forward, his strong hands gripped tight in front of him, his head turned to the side so he could see her face. “Keith is alive.”

  Her entire body recoiled. Chills the size of marbles raced for the finish line. Of all the stuff she’d mentally prepared herself to hear, this never even crossed her mind. “What? What do you mean alive?”

  “He got out before the building collapsed. He’s in pretty bad shape, but he’s alive.”

  “Where did they find him? Which hospital is he in?” Even after all Keith had done, a strange urge to see him rose up inside her, the indignation so thick it lodged in her chest.

  Ryker reached over and laid his warm hand on her leg just above her knee. “They haven’t found him. He’s still MIA.” He paused, pulling his hand back. “I believe he’s coming for you.”

  “What on earth?” She yanked the throw tighter around her neck. “He’s alive? And out to get me? How did he escape that inferno?”

  “We have little to go on, but we think Denise or her partner was close by. Picked him up from the warehouse and has been helping him ever since. We found the travel agent they kidnapped. And her statement worries me.”

  “Wait. What travel agent?”

  His hands tightened. “They kidnapped a woman. Set up several plane reservations and hotel accommodations around the country using her identity. Tortured her. Let her go.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Another victim? She shook her head, try
ing to contain the frustration and helplessness from taking over. By the look on his face, Joanna knew what he was about to tell her would only make things worse. She had tons of questions of her own. Wanted to know who the woman was. Why they’d done such a horrible thing. If the woman was all right. All of which would have to wait. “What did she say?”

  “She witnessed Keith kill Denise.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth. “Keith killed Denise?” She gulped back the sick feeling in her throat, her eyes wide at the thought of him actually doing the deed. She’d hoped all this time to be wrong about the severity of his deteriorating mental state.

  “Yes. And he made her suffer.” Ryker grimaced, and Joanna could only imagine the horror he’d seen. “He also had a message for me, although I think it was really meant for you.”

  A slow whimper escaped as she melted back into the soft leather. “What was it?”

  “Checkmate.”

  She sat straight up, knowing the meaning instantly. “Oh God, Ryker. He doesn’t plan to lose.” Fear trickled through her veins like hot liquid metal.

  They sat in silence as Joanna stared out the picture window at the peaceful lake, envisioning the sound of the water gently lapping against the rocks, trying desperately to understand how Keith got so messed up. He’d been a friend, a boy she’d laughed with, shared childhood secrets with, and played chess with. A game he took more seriously than any other. A game where she’d think she had him beat, only to find out how wrong she was with his next move.

  “Don’t worry, you’re safe, Jo Jo. They’ve put added security in place and even stationed several patrol cars outside Sam’s house last night as a precaution.”

  Her gaze darted to the window by the front door. Sure enough, a patrol car sat in the driveway. “Didn’t work the first time.”

  “There’s no reason to believe Keith would know where you are now, right?”

  “He’d know I was with Sam.” Joanna’s scalp shimmied across her skull. The labored breathing last night in the dark? Had it been her imagination? Or one of them?

  She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t bring herself to tell Ryker because she didn’t want it to be true.

  “You’re turning pale. You need some water?”

  “No. I’m just trying to process this.” She twisted beneath the throw so that her body faced his, her feet beneath her. “How could you let Sam leave if Keith and this other man are still a threat?”

  “She’s not alone. Andrew left with her, and a patrol car will follow her moves.”

  “Is this a ploy to draw Keith out?” She lowered her gaze; she’d never be able to forgive him if this was the case.

  “No.”

  “Because that would be low on so many levels.” Her voice shook.

  “I’d never put a civilian’s life on the line to find a criminal. That’s not the goal. We want to find them, yes, but not at the risk of endangering you or anyone else. My objective is to keep you safe.”

  “Safe. I don’t know what that is anymore.”

  “I hope you know I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “Again, that didn’t work so well the first time,” she said, eyeing the bandage barely peeking out from beneath his black shirt, and he winced. She was so damn tired of being a victim.

  “But I’m smarter this time.” He drew in a heavy breath, his body stiff.

  She lowered her head, suddenly unspeakably sad by her insensitive jabs. What was wrong with her? He was there to help. None of this was his fault. She needed to move forward, put the blame where it belonged. Keith Coleman was not her friend, never had her best interest in mind a day in his life. He was a selfish jerk, a manipulative ass out to control every facet of her life. Ryker had proved time and time again to be the complete opposite. What they’d shared that one night hadn’t been cheap or mindless, or a ploy to use her to get to her father. And he hadn’t run off at the first sign she might like to take the relationship further either. Shoot, he’d come after her twice now, and she couldn’t deny the feelings he stirred inside her. The emotions they shared were real. She saw that now—in the depths of his eyes, the strong set of his jaw, and the compassionate concern for her safety.

  “Oh, you are, are you?” She reached out and covered his hand with hers as a peace offering. “Smarter, I mean.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” There was that Southern drawl that made her feel safe, topped off with the sexy tilt of his head.

  “You’re a mess.” Her heart ached for the connection only he could provide.

  “One I hope you can fix.”

  “Fix? How on earth do you suggest I do that?”

  “Now that your father is going to make a full recovery, give me a chance. Give us a chance.” Ryker lifted his hand to feather back a lock of her hair with his fingers. The look of promise as he stared deep into her eyes stole her next breath.

  She swallowed the large block of hope, of fear of the unknown rising and housing itself smack in the hollow base beneath her heart.

  “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll be out of your life for good. No questions asked.”

  “Sounds fair.”

  His eyes, dark and carving a path right to her soul, sparked with anticipation. “Good.”

  “Good. Now, how about some breakfast? I’m starving. Looks like Andrew didn’t take Sam’s breakfast duty seriously.” She scanned the empty countertops in the kitchen, noticing no signs of breakfast and smiled at the lone strand of Christmas lights still flickering from the night before.

  “You sit right there. I got this.” He pushed himself up off the couch and headed to the kitchen. “What do you feel like eating?”

  “You make it, I’ll eat it. I can’t get the taste of that hospital food out of my mouth.”

  “I agree. That stuff tastes nasty.” He’d opened the third cabinet before finding a frying pan. “Eggs are always good. Easy on the stomach.”

  “Perfect. Fried over easy. And toast, please. With butter. And grape jelly. Lots of grape jelly.” She pulled the blanket tighter around her body and shuffled her way over to the granite breakfast bar, maneuvering herself onto one of the short barstools.

  He looked over his shoulder, his brow raised in a playful rendition of you better watch it. “You sure you should eat all that?”

  “What? I’m hungry. And I like jelly.” Why the heck did she feel so comfortable in his presence? This couldn’t possibly be normal. Especially under the circumstances.

  Keith was still alive. Injured and on a mission to find her and do God only knew what when he found her. And yet, she’d never felt more at peace. Honestly, the ease at how perfectly Ryker fit into her world intimidated the living daylights out of her. And she liked it. Not to mention the security he offered. She felt capable of surviving whatever life threw her way from here on out as long as Ryker was there with her, watching over her, protecting her. This man truly cared for her. He had no desire to manipulate her situation.

  “Hungry is good.” His husky tone insinuated he might be hinting at something else, and her skin flushed.

  Oh yes. A totally different type of desire coursed through this man.

  She decided to divert the conversation. “Is the travel agent going to be okay?”

  “Yes, she’s a bit bruised and freaked out, but she should be fine in time. She has a baby, so that might help her recover quicker.”

  “A baby? Poor woman. I still can’t believe Keith is behind all this. Growing up, he never showed any signs of brutality toward people or animals, or signs of mental illness.”

  “Sometimes it’s those we think we know the best who surprise us the most.”

  “I guess so.”

  In no time, he’d cooked the egg, found a plate in one of the top cabinets and slid the perfectly fried egg out onto it. Then popped the bread out of the toaster, laying the slices neatly beside the egg before placing it on the counter. “Your breakfast, madam.”

  “Fork? Butter and jelly?” She pleaded with her eyes, too, batting her lash
es.

  “Oh, yes. Can’t forget those.” He opened the drawer in front of him, lifted a fork out and handed it to her. “Here you go. Anything to drink?” Making his way to the refrigerator, he moved effortlessly, even with a slight limp. Like he was secure in his role of master chef, as well as protector.

  “Water, please.” She cut into the yolk, watching as it oozed out over the plate, her taste buds sparking to life. “You ever get married?”

  “No. Married to my job.”

  “Have any serious relationships you’d like to discuss?” After cutting up the egg and heaping a hefty portion onto her folk, she took a bite. The flavors exploded in unison, initiating a low, satisfied groan from her empty stomach.

  “Nope.” He placed the butter, jelly, and bottle of water in front of her, along with a knife and spoon. Then he leaned over the counter, his arms resting on the counter as he watched her. “Okay, Miss Nosy. How about you?”

  He smelled good. Looked good. Way too good, leaning over like that, his muscled biceps straining against the sleeves of his shirt. “Me, either.” She gave the toast a generous slathering of both butter and jelly, unconcerned by the look of astonishment on his handsome features at her non-existent portion control. Even used the spoon as a joke to scoop up the extra yolk and excess jelly on her plate.

  Gaze locked on her, he said, “Good?”

  “Yum.” She took another bite, but this time used her buttered and jellied bread to hoist the delicious bite into her mouth instead of her fork, licking the remnants off of her fingers.

  “You’re making me hungry,” he said, a low chuckle escaping him, the wicked look in his eyes causing a flurry of old memories to surface.

  “What time did Sam say she’d be back?” Pushing the empty plate away, she repositioned the throw so that it no longer hung low on her shoulders. He’d tried his best to keep his gaze from drifting to the exposed skin of her collar bone as she ate, but she’d noticed him lose the battle several times. And she’d sat there, letting him get an eyeful.

  He cleared his husky throat. “She said sometime after lunch. I think she’s going to stop by and check on your dad at the hospital, too.”