“I just hope Janis left the… key,” he finished as he pulled the key out from a cleverly disguised knot in the wood of the exterior wall.
“Janis?” Sierra asked, curiosity dispelling some of the weariness from her tone.
“She owns this place. Keeps it ready for me for whenever I might want to stop by.” He swung the door open, taking a few steps inside. The interior was no warmer than outside. The cabin obviously hadn’t been used in a while.
“That’s very generous of her.”
Blake threw a smile at her over his shoulder. “I’m her favourite.” He winked and flipped the light switch, flooding the room with a warm, inviting light. Sierra let out a soft gasp at the sight.
He knew what she saw. The homemade furniture scattered throughout the open plan living and kitchen area. The large stone fireplace dominating one wall. The furnishings were all in rich reds and golds, and again clearly made by hand.
Janis had put a lot of love into the place over the years, and her husband, too, before his passing. It was the only place that Blake had ever felt at home.
“It’s lovely,” Sierra breathed, awestruck.
A smug smile of satisfaction pulled at the corner of his lips. He hadn’t known how much he’d wanted Sierra to like the place until he was here.
“Let’s get you to bed. You must be exhausted.”
As if remembering that he was there, she turned toward him, eyes narrowed, and wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill. “Thank you.”
The bedroom—the only one in the house—was at the back of the cabin. He led her out there, carting her suitcase with him.
He pushed open the door and let her enter ahead of him. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry it’s so cold. Unfortunately, the fire is the only source of heat in the cabin, but there are plenty of blankets we can pile on your bed. They’re in the chest, there.” He pointed to a large, sturdy chest against the right hand wall. Sierra still didn’t reply as she stepped further into the room, her head moving restlessly as she took in the small space. “I know it’s not much,” he continued, unaccountably nervous. “But it means it’ll heat up quicker once you’re in here.”
She finally turned to face him then. The sparkle that lit her eyes quickly disappeared as they landed on him. “It’s lovely,” she told him, sincerely. But her stiffness said that she was still unhappy with him.
Pleasure warmed him at the knowledge that she liked his sanctuary.
“I’m glad.” He cleared his throat. “Bathroom is over that way.” He indicated to a door behind him. “I’ll leave you to it while I try to start a fire. I’ll give you a proper tour in the morning, but not too early. I expect you to sleep in.”
Sierra shook her head. “I appreciate the thought, but I don’t sleep in.”
“Uh huh,” Blake said disbelievingly. “Either way.”
With that, he shut the door on Sierra and went to build a fire to warm up the living room. May as well make himself comfortable for the evening.
The morning dawned bright and clear as it only could outside of the city.
Sierra was confused at first. The sound of birds fluttering about made her think that pigeons were on her windowsill again. But once she opened her eyes and saw the small, homey room, with its handwoven blankets and solid furniture, she remembered the events of the night before.
The attack was already a distant memory, taking on the ephemeral quality of a half-forgotten nightmare. It was hard to believe it had even happened, but when she reached for her neck, the healed-over cut told her that it had been very real. She shivered despite the heavy warmth of her blanket pile.
She had no reference to be able to judge the time from the sun’s angle, but assumed it must still be early. No sounds emanated from the rest of the cabin, so Blake must still be asleep.
Sierra allowed herself a few moments to relax, staring up at the exposed beams of the ceiling and contemplating what she would do for the day. It was strange to think she had choices. The answer to that question had been ‘work’ for so long, even before she’d thrown herself into her job to avoid thinking about her stalker.
Eventually, though, the lure of breakfast and coffee got her to throw off the covers and brave the cool morning air. She wandered into the kitchen wrapped in an oversized flannel dressing gown. Blake was already there, towering and silent in the morning sunlight streaming through the divided windows. He was shirtless, his expansive back on display as he filled the coffee maker.
He must have heard her, despite her efforts to be quiet, because he turned. When he caught sight of her fluffy dressing gown, a grin split his face.
“What happened to the skimpy one you had last time?” he asked.
A blush heated her cheeks when she remembered the night in question. Perhaps—at the back of her mind—she had intended to seduce Blake that night, since she’d pulled the revealing dressing gown out from the back of her closet.
“It’s in the wash,” she replied haughtily. Her annoyance at him had abated a little in the night, but she still thought he had been unreasonable about not staying in Portsboro. Her hand kept reaching for the non-existent phone in her empty pocket. Hopefully her clients weren’t too mad about her cancelling the presentation. They were notoriously unforgiving.
He grinned, not at all fooled by her lie, but let her off the hook. “Have a seat, I’ll grab you some coffee.”
She thanked him and sat in the wooden chair, adjusting the cushion beneath her. Her new position gave her a direct view out the open back door, onto a small porch with the trees beyond. The fresh breeze fluttered inside the room, filling her lungs. When was the last time she’d breathed such unpolluted air? Such… Jesus, was that the sun?
“What time is it?” she asked.
“About ten,” Blake replied, unconcerned.
“Ten?” Sierra didn’t think she’d woken after six a.m. for years. “How long have you been up?”
“A few hours,” he replied casually.
“I didn’t hear you.”
He winked at her. “I’m a SEAL. We’re trained to sneak around.” He handed her a coffee, keeping one for himself.
She eyed him. Despite how furious she still was at him for using her, she could acknowledge that he was, unfortunately, no less attractive to her. Annoyed with herself for her line of thinking, she changed the subject.
“How did you come to join the SEALs?” she asked, suddenly curious. What had this man been like when he was younger?
Something dark and unpleasant flickered in his eyes. It surprised her. He had always been so upbeat and positive. Even when they were barely speaking, he had never looked quite so… destroyed.
“I didn’t have a great childhood,” he began. From the careful way he said it, Sierra suspected that was a gross understatement. “So the discipline appealed to me.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured softly, sympathy welling within her.
He shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m over it.” But he wouldn’t quite meet her eye.
“If you want to talk about it…” she hinted.
His smile was thin-lipped, bitter. Her heart ached for him. Sierra had spent so long thinking of him as strong and invincible, she hadn’t thought to ask if he was hurting, too.
He cleared his throat, thumb sliding over the rim of the coffee cup. “My father was an awful person. By the time I left, my brothers—I have two—were following in his footsteps. When they found out I was also romantically interested in people that weren’t women, they found even more excuses to bully me. My mother… she was lovely. Warm. Somehow she still kept her sweetness through years of abuse. She died when I was eighteen. I couldn’t stay in that house, and I had no reason to. And if I stayed, I knew I would fall into that same trap my father had set for my brothers and if I made just a few bad choices, I would turn out just like them. Since I had nowhere else to go, I picked the military. Thankfully, they put me on the right track, and I never looked back.”
He smiled at her, but it w
asn’t his usual one full of charm. It was tight, and hard.
“I think you turned out pretty well,” she told him, trying to both comfort him and lighten his mood.
His eyes cleared somewhat as he met her gaze, his expression softer. “Thank you. That means a lot, considering the circumstances of the last few days.” She knew exactly to what he was referring.
Blake stood, then, clearly ready to finish the conversation. Sierra didn’t press. She’d already learned more about him that morning than she’d ever expected to. Besides, she was hungry.
“What’s for breakfast?”
Chapter 26
Blake was tidying up the kitchen when Sierra returned fresh and smiling from her shower. Her hair was damp, and he could see the beginnings of waves in her usually-straight hair. She was already looser, freer, an effect of this cabin that Blake was well familiar with.
“So, what is there to do around here?” Sierra asked.
He grinned. “Let’s go for a walk.”
The restless energy that always coursed through him felt different now. It was still there, lingering at the edges of his mind as it always did. But this time it felt more born of excitement than a need to escape. He wanted to show Sierra his domain, anticipated what she might think.
Within minutes, they made their way down the small path worn into the forest floor. It was barely wide enough for two across, but they walked beside each other, regardless. Their shoulders brushed with every step, but Blake was hardly going to complain about the pleasant thrill it sent through him.
“It’s so peaceful here,” she murmured in a hushed voice. “Hard to believe that someone that doesn’t like to relax would enjoy it here.” She bumped his shoulder with her own.
“Speak for yourself,” he told her. “At least I’m not a workaholic. I leave the office at reasonable hours.”
She shrugged. “My work just never feels done. I work all day, and then I go home and think about work some more. Even when I’m sleeping. I wake up with corporate strategy consulting on the brain. There’s too much to do.”
“You need someone else to help you in the role.”
She slanted him a look. “I need new senior partners. Ones that actually do their jobs.”
He gave her a wry smile. “No doubt that would help,” he agreed.
“Speaking of work, I don’t suppose there is any chance of me checking in today?” She gave him her most winning smile.
“Nope,” he replied, unmoved.
She sighed. “Didn’t think so.”
They strolled further, the ground becoming more uneven and sloping the deeper they got into the forest. Sometimes they talked, other times they just enjoyed the sounds of nature around them. Blake couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so at peace, unburdened by a need to do more, be elsewhere.
“It’s coming up just ahead,” he told her.
“What is?” she asked.
He didn’t have to answer.
They stepped out of the trees into a small clearing. The ground dropped away ahead of them, and an endless vista of mountainous forests spread before them.
“Wow,” Sierra breathed. Blake watched her, taking immense pleasure from her awe and wonder at the view. He had seen it so many times in his visits over the years that it was imprinted on his mind. He didn’t need to look again.
But Sierra’s beauty was still new to him, and he was still discovering new facets of it, and her, each day.
“This is my favourite spot in the whole world,” he told her.
“I can see why,” she replied, tearing her eyes from the view. They smiled at each other, a little goofily.
“Usually I only see it after a hard climb, though.” She frowned in confusion, so he answered her unasked question. “I rock climb. And this is my favourite spot. The face is a real challenge and the view is a perfect reward.”
“You…?” She glanced down at his prosthetic.
“Even with the prosthetic,” he confirmed.
“Wow,” she said again, this time looking even more awestruck.
He puffed out his chest a little, enjoying the admiration. “It’s not so hard,” he lied.
She rolled her eyes, but didn’t call him on the blatant falsehood. Kind of her.
“You must come out this way a lot, then.”
He nodded. “Every chance I get. Janis keeps the place pretty well stocked for me. It’s… nice out here.”
She nodded, and he realised she understood. This was his sanctuary. He came to the cabin to destress and decompress. It was a place he could come that had happy memories and no expectations on him. And between the rock climbing, firewood chopping, and other daily tasks, it kept him busy and unthinking.
Just the way he liked it.
Blake was moving around the kitchen, apparently making dinner—who knew the man could cook?—when Sierra discovered something exciting: a laptop.
“Is this yours?” she asked, waving it in his direction so he could see.
“Yes,” he replied. “You can use it, but no work. No logging on to anything. It’s secure, but nothing is unhackable.”
Her mind already buzzed with the list of things she wanted to do. She hadn’t even been twenty-four hours without technology and she was already getting twitchy.
Blake found her immersed in research an hour later.
“What are you doing on there?” he asked, flopping down on the opposite corner of the couch to her. Her toes, wrapped in heavy woollen socks, brushed his thigh.
“Did you know there are five types of stalkers?” she asked him.
He blinked. “I didn’t know that.”
“I would assume that my guy is under the category of ‘predatory stalker’,” she continued.
“And what does that mean?” he asked, leaning towards her. His hand settled over her feet, a gesture both casual and shockingly intimate. She didn’t shake him off.
She clicked over to the relevant browser tab. “It means that this isn’t about some deluded romantic fantasy, or loneliness, or whatever. It is about power and control. He researches, plans, and organises extremely well, getting off on violent sexual fantasies about me as he does so.”
She shuddered. She’d known her stalker was both dangerous and unpleasant. Last night—had it only been last night?—had proven that. But reading up about cases of particular stalkers made a sick feeling pool in her gut.
“What’s his ultimate goal?” Blake asked softly, his fingers tightening around her foot. She doubted he even noticed he was doing it.
“Rape and murder,” she replied, as casually as she could. “Nothing we didn’t already know. Or suspect.”
His eyes grew dark and shuttered. “We won’t let that happen.”
“I trust you,” she reassured him. She did even more so after his honesty of the morning. Even showing her his favourite climbing spot had revealed facets of his character that she never would have suspected exist. She’d had no idea of his history and background—of which there was far more to tell than what he’d glossed over that morning, she knew—but she admired him all the more after hearing it. He’d dragged himself from a horrible place, shaking himself of its taint and becoming a man worthy of admiration.
She’d begun to understand him a little more, now. His restlessness and need to keep moving, never having time to think. He pushed himself physically with endless challenges so he wouldn’t remember the things that he’d been through. It was his way of getting lost. Forgetting.
The only question for Sierra was whether he wanted to forget her, too. She didn’t want that. She liked him, liked who he was, and who he strove to be. And their night together had been one of the best she’d had.
Maybe he wasn’t the man she’d thought. Maybe they could make it work after all.
He settled more firmly back on the couch, looking relaxed. Happy. It gave her a spark of hope. If she waited just a little longer for him to come around to the idea of them together—or for the stalker to be caught so
the professional side of their relationship wouldn’t get in the way—it might be worth them giving their relationship a chance, if he was willing.
Blake hadn’t mentioned anything about ‘after’. He hadn’t used that to appease her by telling her they could be together after it was all over. Perhaps he wasn’t thinking that far ahead. Or perhaps he really didn’t want this.
She swallowed at the sudden hollowness of her stomach.
“So why are you researching stalkers?” he asked. He watched her with smouldering heat in his eyes and Sierra knew that whatever else, he still wanted her. And that was something she could hold onto.
She shrugged. “I was hoping I might learn something that would give me a hint as to who he is.”
“And?”
“Well, predatory stalkers are likely to have committed sexual assault in the past, and are apparently prone to ‘deviant’ sexual behaviour, whatever that means.” She paused, rereading the article. “But they hide the evil side of them well. Disturbingly well. This article says they are the most dangerous kind of stalker.”
Blake narrowed his eyes, angry, but not at her. “I’m so glad that you were smart enough to call us when you did.”
“I’m just glad I was rich enough,” she joked, then sobered. “I wonder about those other girls, the ones Destiny told us about. Did they have anyone looking out for them?” She swallowed down the lump in her throat. “Did Destiny ever tell us their names?”
Blake shook his head. “No, but remember we are letting her do her job now. Don’t try to interfere.”
“But I might know the connection between them and me. You never know.”
Blake glared at her, but she held her ground. She could sense he was considering her point.
“Fine, we’ll call her. But let her do the talking.”
Chapter 27
They called Destiny via a secure online VoIP. Her face popped up on the laptop screen almost immediately when she answered, smiling just as Sierra remembered.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked, as if she already knew the answer. Her gaze shifted between the two of them, and Sierra realised how she and Blake must look, sitting close, their arms pressed together to both appear in the frame. Sierra didn’t comment or move away. Destiny’s most likely assumption wasn’t far off the mark, after all.
Guarding Sierra: (Soldiering On #2) Page 14