This time of year the city grew dark earlier. City lights glittered in the night and spread out across The Old Pueblo, as locals often called Tucson.
Trace drove around the city forever, then another eon beyond that. Finally, he said he knew no one could have followed them.
Dashboard lights illuminated his features as he drove the truck north and they headed up the winding mountain road of Mt. Lemmon.
“After the day we’ve had, we’re bound to be hungry once we get to the cabin,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind canned chili and dried fruit with beer for a late-night snack when we arrive.” He glanced at her, mischief in his eyes. “I grabbed a case of each at Walmart for us to enjoy while we’re there.”
She laughed. “Sounds like a gourmet meal compared to hospital food.”
“I’d have to agree with you there,” he said.
While Trace drove, they talked about Belle and Dylan and their baby. She used Trace’s iPad to watch the video again and gave him a play-by-play even though he’d seen it plenty of times, too.
In between their snatches of conversation, she watched him while he kept his eyes focused on the winding road. She had the strong desire to trace his jaw down to the cleft in his chin. She wanted to kiss his lips and wondered how soft they would be against hers. What would it be like to snuggle with his big arms wrapped around her?
She sighed to herself. Keep dreaming.
Then once again she wondered about how easily she could imagine herself with Trace, when just days before she hadn’t wanted anything to do with developing a relationship with any man.
Was that what she wanted with Trace? A relationship?
God, that’s crazy. He barely knew her. Her horrible marriage and the man she had been tied to had damaged her.
“What are your favorite kinds of movies?” Trace caught her attention, dragging her from her thoughts. “And least favorites, too.”
“I don’t watch chick flicks or romantic movies.” Christie didn’t mention she no longer believed in happily-ever-afters, thanks to Salvatore and her marriage to him.
“I have to admit I’m not crazy about them, either.” Trace smiled. “I do appreciate comedies, including Jim Carrey’s, Adam Sandler’s and David Spade’s brand of humor.”
“Some of their movies are good.” She tipped her head to the side, considering it. “I’m not crazy about the Dumb and Dumber or Ace Ventura movies, or those among similar lines. But I think other movies by them are great.”
Trace kept his attention on the road for the most part as they talked. As they traveled outside the city and away from any streetlights, it quickly grew pitch-black outside, save for their headlights.
She stared out of the window to check if she could see the stars, but the forest blocked the view. She turned back to him. “What other types of movies do you like?”
He glanced at her. “I’d have to say thrillers are my favorite.”
“Ugh.” She shook her head. “I used to love that genre, but as of a few days ago, I lost my taste for it, at least for the time being.”
“Can’t say I blame you.” He nodded. “What else?”
“I hate horror movies. After my cousin scared me to death watching The Cabin in the Woods, I won’t touch them.” She thought about what she did like. “However, I adore fantasy, like The Lord of the Rings trilogy.”
“Sci-fi here,” he said. “And sword and sandals movies. Gladiator and Ben Hur are in the top five on my list.”
She pushed strands of her hair out of her eyes. “We certainly have different tastes.”
“What makes the world go round.” He smiled. “What about TV shows?”
She gave a wicked laugh. “You could say I have taken great delight in The Walking Dead and I absolutely loved Dexter.”
Trace laughed. “Two of my favorite shows ever.” He almost looked sheepish as he added, “I used to watch American Idol during its heyday.”
She grinned. “Same here.”
He asked her other easy questions, which made her feel more comfortable. By the time he told her they were near their destination, she had relaxed. Most of her fear had been set to the side for now and any tension that might have existed between the two of them had slipped away.
Except for sexual tension. Was it all one-sided? Her side? Sometimes he watched her in a way that made her feel beautiful. He appreciated everything about her. She didn’t know if she imagined it, or put meaning where she shouldn’t, but she liked the way he made her feel.
Trace eventually veered onto a dirt road. She wouldn’t have noticed the nearly hidden exit if she’d been driving.
The truck thrummed and vibrated over rocks and potholes, the terrain growing rougher the farther they traveled. The headlights bounced off the rutted road, nearby tree trunks and bushes, as well as patches of snow lining the road.
“You weren’t kidding when you said this place was isolated.” She gritted her teeth against the vehicle’s jostling and her arm ached even more.
“You should feel safe here.” He glanced at her. “It’s been a while since you took the Vicodin. You could probably use another dose.”
She shrugged. “Once we get to our destination.” As she spoke, the road opened up. The headlights lit up a small clearing with a log cabin at the back of the grassy area.
Trace guided the Explorer closer to the place. “Home sweet home for a few days.”
“From what I can see of it in the dark, this will be nice.” She smiled at him. “I think I’m going to like this much better than being surrounded by Agent Stillwater and her minions. I mean agents.” She gave a little grin. “Seriously, I know they’re all doing their jobs and I do appreciate them. They’re all good men and women. I just like this better.”
“I thought you might feel that way.” Trace parked in front of the cabin, illuminated by the truck’s lights. A small porch, with a weathered but sturdy-looking swing big enough for two, hung from rafters. To the right, someone had stacked chopped firewood into an even pile.
“Do you take a lot of protected witnesses up here?” she asked.
He leaned over the seat and grabbed her coat, along with his leather jacket. “You’re the first.”
“I’m honored.” She smiled and he gave her a quick grin.
He helped her put the coat around her shoulders and slide her good arm into the sleeve. He zipped it up over the sling. Thankfully, the roomy coat didn’t put any pressure on her wound.
Once they had bundled up, Trace killed the engine, jumped out, and shut the Explorer’s door. He jogged around and helped her climb out. Dallas bounded out behind her.
Immediately the air chilled Christie’s cheeks and she stuffed her hand into a pocket. Her breath fogged as she let it out. It wasn’t as cold as back in Indiana, but it certainly came close.
Trace handed her the purse she’d carried with her on the plane. He picked up her suitcase and laptop bag and they headed toward the cabin. His legs were long, but he walked at her pace. They reached the front door and he unlocked it and pushed it open.
The three of them walked inside and he closed the door before too much cold air flooded the cabin. The moon cast a silver glow through a pair of large skylights above, giving them enough light to see by. He set her suitcase on the wood floor and she placed her purse on a small table nearby.
Coleman LED lanterns had been placed on surfaces in the room and he turned on two of them, illuminating the cabin in a warm yellow glow. He located a couple of portable battery-operated heaters and flipped the switches on them as well. For several minutes, Christie stood in front of the heaters, thawing out with Trace and Dallas. Although the German Shepherd no doubt was perfectly comfortable in his fur coat.
She inspected the log cabin that had a bed, a small kitchen, and a round dining table. A couch and a couple of chairs stood on the opposite side of the room, across from the bed. A fireplace took up a good portion of the right wall, and someone had stacked wood in a pile beside it.
/> All of the furniture appeared to be handmade from knotted wood. She assumed a lone door in one corner led to a bathroom.
The cabin smelled pleasant, of cedar and a recent blaze in the fireplace. Christie swung her gaze to meet Trace’s. “Someone must have been by not too long ago.”
“I stayed here over a weekend a couple of weeks back.” He settled his hand on her good shoulder. “I come up to air it out for Ben at times and to escape to the woods.”
“Did you spend any of your childhood in the mountains?” she asked.
“I grew up on a ranch outside of Houston, not in the mountains, but I have an affinity for them.” He smiled. “Sometimes Dylan and Brooks use the cabin, too. Ben prefers to keep the fact that he owns it private outside Dylan, Brooks and me.”
“I like it,” she said.
When her body had warmed, she pulled off the floppy hat and shook out her hair. She placed her borrowed headgear near a beat-up old Stetson on a rack beside the door that also held a couple of old ball caps and a hat with earmuffs. A well-worn jean jacket also hung on a knob.
Trace squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll get the bags and ice chest and be right back.”
He headed out of the door before she could offer to help, but she realized she’d probably slow him down more than help.
Cool air swirled into the cabin as he left. He returned a short time later, another wash of crystallized air sweeping in, then he kicked the door shut. He set down the ice chest, along with grocery and shopping bags he’d brought in from the SUV. It amazed her how much he’d managed to carry in one trip.
He shrugged out of his jacket, hung it on the hat rack, and stuffed his gloves into his pocket. “Need help with your coat?”
She nodded. “Please.”
He approached her and reached for her. He slid his surprisingly warm fingers down the column of her throat and she shivered, incredibly aware of him.
“Cold?” His low voice reminded her of warm honey.
She swallowed hard. “No.”
He didn’t press her but unzipped her coat, the back of his hand brushing the inside of her right breast. This time she caught her breath.
“Are you all right?” Concern tightened his features. “Did I hit your wound?”
“No, you didn’t.” She squeaked the words then cleared her throat. “I’m fine.”
His nearness warmed her to the point of scorching. He unzipped the coat all the way past her navel. He didn’t even touch her but set her on fire everywhere, including that place between her thighs that ached for him.
Stop it, Christie. She tried to admonish herself enough to get over these crazy feelings for Trace. You know it’s too soon.
Or is it?
He freed her left arm, bound in the sling. He paid close attention to slipping the coat off her good arm, no doubt wanting to be careful to keep from tugging too hard on her.
Christie found it hard to suck in air when his hands skimmed her shoulder as he pulled off the coat. He removed it fully then took it to the rack and hung it. She let out her breath in a rush as she watched him.
Trace returned and dragged his gaze over her sweater that hugged her torso and curved over her breasts. “Beautiful…” His throat worked as he met her gaze. “…color on you.”
She couldn’t hold back a smile. “Good save.” Her face warmed at what she’d just said.
He gave a low laugh. “You got me.” Her stomach rumbled and he grinned. “Ready for canned chili and dried apples?”
“Almost.” She pointed to the door on the far side of the room. “Bathroom?”
“Make yourself at home.” He gestured to the waistband of her jeans. “Need any help?”
Her body heated even more as she brought her fingers to the button. At this rate, she wouldn’t need him to set a fire to stay warm. “I’m good.”
He appeared relieved and she wondered if he’d been embarrassed over what had just transpired between them. Probably.
“I’ll get you some light.” He walked toward the bathroom and she followed. He switched on the LED lantern on a shelf in the small room before leaving her, clearly being careful not to brush her as he passed.
A combination of amusement and disappointment slid through her. Amusement at his discomfort and disappointment in not getting to feel his body close to hers again. She glanced over her shoulder to see him watching her, then closed the door behind her.
The lantern’s glow lit up the space that showed some amenities bathrooms usually had. It surprised her, considering it was a rustic one-room cabin in the woods. The owner must have had a septic tank put in along with a water well. Another skylight was overhead. The light from the lantern reflected on the glass, so she couldn’t see the stars.
She managed to get the job done, in spite of the awkwardness of only having one arm. The icy seat chilled her bottom and goosebumps broke out on her flesh.
When she had finished, she washed her hands in cold water in the sink, managing not to get her sling wet. She used a hand towel then tried to button the jeans, but gave up after several attempts.
She stopped long enough to stare at herself in the mirror. She had dark circles under her eyes and exhaustion made her feel weak. Her arm throbbed.
After she’d eaten something, he probably wouldn’t mind her curling up on the couch. She could use a nap—a long one.
She walked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Another Coleman lantern glowed on the coffee table and the room grew warmer.
Trace crouched in front of the stone fireplace and put a log on the fire he’d started in a big metal grate. He stirred the fire with the iron poker. Next to the stack of chopped wood beside the fireplace sat a wire basket filled with kindling, as well as a bucket for ashes.
“Sorry about the cold water.” He looked over his shoulder. “Warm water and electricity are the two things Ben doesn’t have up here.”
“I don’t mind.” She smiled, moving closer to the fireplace. She could tell the fire would soon reach every corner and warm the room. “Can I do anything?”
He set the poker near the fireplace, away from the growing flames, before getting to his feet. “You can watch me make our gourmet bedtime snack.”
“I can help.” With her good hand, she grasped the handle of the ice chest he had brought in and pulled it into the little kitchen area.
Trace followed, carrying the grocery bags. He kneeled in front of the cooler, opened it, and brought out a package of meat and a baggie of sliced cheese, along with condiments. He picked a loaf of bread out of a shopping bag.
She grinned. “What happened to chili and dried apples?”
“I thought sandwiches might be more appealing.” He opened the bag of bread. “Mayo or mustard on smoked ham?”
She got paper plates out of one of the grocery bags and set them on the countertop. She reached for a package of napkins. “I like both.”
He picked up a butter knife. “Coming right up.”
She set the napkins down and studied him. “Why are you doing this for me?”
He shrugged. “It’s my job.”
She might have been pushing too hard, but she wanted to know. “That’s not all of it.”
His mouth quirked into a little grin. “I had such a relaxing time protecting you the last time I thought I’d try it out again.”
She couldn’t help a laugh. The last time he’d protected her had been anything but relaxing, much less this time.
He clearly tried to change the subject as he said, “I like how you’ve cut your hair.”
“This is a first for me.” She put her hand to the back of her head where the hair had been trimmed shorter than the rest. “I’ve never had it any way but long.”
He studied her in a way that made her feel beautiful. “It suits you.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
The heat from the fireplace did a great job of taking more of the chill out of the room.
Her arm throbbed like crazy, so she d
ecided she’d go ahead and take the meds for pain. She dug the container out of her purse and took one of the tablets out, then put the bottle back.
When Trace finished making sandwiches, he reached into the cooler that also had ice, bottled water, sodas, beer, and chardonnay. “What would you like to drink? I can make coffee or hot chocolate if you want something warm.”
“Water.” She took the water bottle he offered her. The cold, wet plastic chilled her hand. She opened the bottle as she spoke. “I’d better stay away from the wine while I’m on the meds. Maybe tomorrow.” She swallowed the tablet.
“Have a seat on the couch.” He nodded toward it. “It’s more relaxing than sitting at the table and it’s closer to the fireplace.”
“I’m all for more relaxing and keeping warm.” She headed to the couch where she set her water on the simple coffee table made with knotted wood like the other furniture in the cabin.
Trace put out a can of dog food for Dallas. The dog ate with gusto while Trace filled a bowl with water.
He joined Christie and placed a plate of sandwiches and another water bottle on the coffee table. He sat close to her and his nearness sent a storm of dragonflies battering around her belly.
He raised his bottle of water. “To turkey sandwiches and water with a lovely woman.”
She grinned and bumped her plastic bottle against his before taking a sip.
He handed her a sandwich. “Eat up. You need it.”
She smiled as she took it. “Just what the doctor ordered.”
The small dinner of sandwiches tasted great after two days of bland hospital food and the earlier small meal at the FBI office.
The fire crackled and popped in the fireplace, its heat enough to warm the cozy cabin. Trace had left one Coleman lantern on the end table near the couch, and had turned off the two battery operated heaters. The lantern and the fire provided the only light.
Trace finished off his second sandwich and drained his bottle of water. “You should get ready to go to sleep.”
“You’re right.” A rush of exhaustion hit her. “I’m going to change first.”
Taking Fire Page 10