Taking Fire

by Cheyenne McCray

  She hesitated, working the thought over in her mind. “Yes. The sound rotors make.” Her throat ached as she swallowed. “It wasn’t Salvatore’s men?”

  “A military helicopter flew overhead, likely coming from Davis-Monthan Air Force Base in Tucson.” Trace brushed another tear from her face. “Salvatore’s men are nowhere near here. Trust me.”

  She waited a moment. “I do trust you. I’m just so scared of the men chasing me.”

  “It’s okay to be scared.” He moved hair from her forehead with his fingertips. “But you’re safe. You don’t need to worry.”

  “Okay.” She nodded. This time a small stick poked her scalp and she winced.

  “I’ll help you.” He slid his palm beneath her upper back. “I had to get you to stop screaming and calm down. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

  “You didn’t.” She let out a deep, shuddering sigh as he assisted her in moving to a sitting position. Her hair had become damp and cold from lying on wet leaves. She leaned forward and buried her head against her thighs and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I’m sorry.” Her position muffled her voice.

  “Nothing to be sorry about.” He encouraged her to sit up again.

  Dallas lay beside her, watching her.

  “I didn’t upset Dallas, did I?” she asked.

  Trace smiled. “He’s been through God knows how many dangerous situations in his lifetime. No worries.”

  “I guess I just asked a silly question.” She returned his smile. “I’m ready to go back to the cabin.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do.” He got up and pulled her to her feet. “Ben has some games in a cabinet. Up for a game of Trivial Pursuit or Scrabble?”

  She cocked her head. “I’m great at Scrabble and not so good at Trivial Pursuit.”

  He took her hand and squeezed. “Then Scrabble it is.”

  Holding his hand felt like the most natural thing in the world. “Let’s go.”

  * * * *

  “Ha!” Christie made a triumphant sound as she laid the tiles for Quetzals on the Scrabble board, building all seven of her tiles on an L, with the Z on a double-letter score space, and the S on a triple-word score square. “That will be three-hundred and seventy-four points. I so kicked your butt. Pretty amazing, considering I have a good buzz from the pinot.”

  Trace held back a smile, but amusement glittered in his eyes. “I’d challenge you, but as good as you are, I probably would just lose another fifty points. I don’t know what the hell a quetzal is.”

  “It’s the national bird of Guatemala.” She grinned. “First time I’ve ever played that word. Probably the last, too.”

  “I’ll take your ‘word’ for it.” He said it in a teasing tone.

  “Ugh.” She almost burst out laughing. “That was bad.”

  Smiling, he inclined his head toward the bottle of pinot noir they’d been sharing. “How about another glass?”

  “I’m up for it.” She wouldn’t mind a little more of a buzz.

  After he poured the last of the pinot into their glasses, Trace carried both to the couch and handed a glass to Christie. He settled next to her, close enough that his arm and thigh felt warm against hers as they put up their feet on the coffee table.

  They clinked glasses. “To the Scrabble champion.” He sipped then asked, “Where did you learn to play Scrabble? You’re vicious.”

  Laughter bubbled up within her. “My grandmother. She loved to play.”

  “I’d like to meet your grandmother one day.” He emptied his glass before setting it down and continuing, “From the things you’ve mentioned, she sounds like someone I would enjoy getting to know.”

  Christie almost drank the last of her own wine too quickly, suddenly wanting her hands free.

  “I would love to introduce you to her.” She set the glass on the table. “Grandma will like you.” It came out so easily, in a confident manner, like one day it would truly happen.

  Trace studied her as if memorizing every detail. They locked gazes and his smile faded. Hers did, too.

  His lips. His wonderful firm lips.

  She wanted to kiss those lips. She wanted to taste him. She wanted to feel him.

  A sigh of need escaped her and she moved her mouth to his.

  He hesitated, as if she’d surprised him, but only for a moment. He returned her kiss with a fire and passion that sent her mind reeling.

  Desire rose within her, fast and strong.

  She kissed him with even more fervor. She wanted him. Needed him.

  Trace grasped her waist and pulled her onto his lap, clearly being careful not to jostle or hurt her injured arm.

  She wrapped her free arm around his neck. She pushed all thoughts of her bastard ex from her mind and concentrated on the way Trace made her feel and her desire to be with him.

  His cock grew rigid between her thighs and she squirmed, loving the feel of it so hard against her. She loved knowing she’d caused that reaction and he desired her just as much as she needed him.

  The wild kiss sent a thrill through her, as if so much bottled inside them had finally been set free, something neither one of them could control. His hot flesh seemed to burn right though her

  He broke the kiss, his breathing hard. “We need to stop.”

  A feeling of rejection hit her. “Why?”

  “One, you’re injured.” He stroked her hair. “Two, in a short time you’ve gone through the trauma of being shot and finding out your ex put out a hit on you. Three, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’ve had a little too much wine.”

  The feeling of rejection faded, but her desire didn’t. “But—” she started.

  “Shhhh.” He put two fingers against her lips. “You’re vulnerable right now, Christie, in more ways than one, and I’m not going to ask you to make decisions under any of these circumstances.”

  “I’m more than fine.” She met his gaze. “It’s thanks to the wine my arm is not bothering me in the least.”

  “But it might be clouding your judgment.” He stroked her nose with one finger. “I want you to be clear-headed when you make your decision.”

  She reached up and kissed him. “I don’t want to wait, you know.”

  He put his forehead to hers. “It might be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I’m going to put you to bed.”

  She ached so much for him. A part of her knew he had made the right decision and another part of her realized she could have made the mistake of moving too fast at a time she needed to take things slowly. “Will you at least hold me again while I sleep? I feel so much safer with you.”

  “Yes, I will do that for you.” He caressed her cheek, his gaze serious as he studied her. “I won’t take advantage of you. If there’s a chance you could change your mind in the morning, I won’t do it.”

  She shifted in his lap and put her head against his chest. “You’re a good man, Trace Davidson. In this case, I almost wish you weren’t quite so good.”

  * * * *

  After Traced promised he would lie next to her for another night, Christie fell asleep within moments.

  He spent some time cleaning his Beretta M9 9mm. He couldn’t get his mind off Christie and the way she’d felt in his arms, the way she’d tasted. Just the way she’d kissed him had nearly sent him over the edge.

  If she knew the direction of his thoughts, she’d never have called him a good man. He felt anything but good right then. As a matter of fact, all that kept going through his mind—

  His phone started to beep. It took only a second to jar Trace away from the images in his head and to recognize what that beep meant. He grabbed his phone, put in his password, pressed an icon, and pulled up an app in less than ten seconds. A warning for camera two popped up.

  Another touch of the screen and six stacked images appeared. Each represented one of the cameras surveilling the mountain property. He selected camera two, studied the live feed, and slid his finger in a circle, rotating the camera angle
by three-hundred and sixty degrees.

  He saw no evidence of humans as he methodically but quickly worked through each image. Little could escape the night-vision cameras.

  It took less than a minute to be confident no human had tripped the motion sensors. A whitetail deer still in camera two’s view had likely triggered the alarm crossing the camera’s path.

  Still, better to be safe, and a larger screen would make it easier to see clearly. He had his Berretta back together in another three seconds and carried it across the room. When he reached the panel hiding the wall monitor, he pressed the door and it opened to reveal the six screens.

  He did a quick rewind followed by playback of all of the cameras, each for the past two minutes. The doe tripped the sensor on camera two at the exact moment the app alarm had been triggered. Four minutes had passed from the time his phone had beeped to the time he’d confirmed the source of the alarm.

  He watched another ten minutes of live footage after that, just to make sure no human could be out there. He left nothing to chance. He checked and double-checked the locks on the windows and doors.

  Christie’s soft breathing drew his attention. His heart constricted whenever he looked at her. She meant more to him than a job. A lot more.

  Regardless of his confidence it had been nothing more than a doe, it still left him edgy. The tension of the whole mess and his concern for Christie kept him on full alert.

  He didn’t like any of this. Didn’t like it at all.

  Chapter Ten

  Trace stomped damp earth from his boots on the mat at the front door. A light from inside the cabin illuminated the porch. He held a stack of wood he’d just chopped in one arm, but paused a moment before reaching for the door knob.

  He’d spent the last hour of the day chopping firewood until the pile had grown far bigger than it needed to be. With every stroke of the ax, he had imagined himself tearing into Salvatore Reyes followed by Brody Danson, his step-uncle. The two men deserved to be locked up for as long as they lived and another hundred years after that. Trace figured a special place in Hell existed for men who beat women and children.

  Trace couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday, when Christie had thought Salvatore had come to get her. After seeing the terror in her eyes, he’d wanted to kill Salvatore ten times over with his bare hands.

  And his aunt…he prayed she would stay away from Brody and not let the bastard lure her into returning with his poisonous false promises.

  Trace’s mother had gone back to his father time after time until it had been her last. Trace swallowed. His mom would still be alive if she’d left that son of a bitch for good.

  God, he missed his mom.

  As far as Christie went, he hoped to hell someone would do away with Salvatore before the trial so this could all end for her sake.

  He’d held her again last night while she’d slept. This time, he hadn’t left until she’d woken, and she hadn’t had another nightmare.

  Trace closed his eyes and tipped his head back. He sucked in his breath, blew it out, then opened his eyes and reached for the doorknob.

  Warmth from the fireplace swept over him, and he smiled to see Christie at the dining table, Dallas at her feet. She had pulled her hair away from her makeup-free face. It gave her a fresh, younger and more innocent look and the freckles across her nose added to her charm.

  She had busied herself with the ocean-themed adult coloring book he had given her while she had been in the hospital. She’d seemed delighted with the colored pencil set in the hospital, making him glad he’d had the sudden inspiration. His cousin, Sarah, had told him once she loved adult coloring books. Apparently it had gained a lot of popularity and he had seen an incredible array of books everywhere.

  Christie raised her head as he walked in and she fiddled with the purple pencil she held. He closed the door behind him and carried the wood across the small room.

  “I’ve almost finished the second scene.” She grinned. “I feel like a kid again.”

  He managed to keep a straight face. “I can put the picture on the refrigerator when you’re finished.”

  She giggled, a wonderful sound. After the experience in the forest yesterday, he’d been afraid she would be too upset to find solace in any type of distraction.

  Her grin broadened. “I bet you would do just that.”

  “Ben has scotch tape or refrigerator magnets.” Trace set the armload of wood beside the fireplace. “Which would you prefer?”

  “Tape.” With a smirk, she pushed aside the coloring book and put down the pencil. “I hope you have lots of it. This book has quite a few pages to color.”

  God, she was cute. Every day he spent with her made it harder to even think of letting her go. He’d fallen for her the first time he’d seen her.

  Over the past year and a half, he’d wondered if he had some kind of law enforcement Florence Nightingale complex. Instead of the caregiver falling for his or her patient, he was the lawman falling for the woman he’d helped rescue.

  Now he knew it had nothing to do with that. He’d recognized the amazing woman in her from the beginning. She deserved to be happy and he wanted to be the man who filled her life with love.

  He had no doubt she would fill his life to the brim.

  “What would you like for dinner?” He shrugged out of his jacket. “We need to use the last of the fresh items from the chest. I can put together a cheeseboard if you’d like.”

  She closed the coloring book and gathered the colored pencils. “Most items on a cheeseboard are on my list of favorite things to indulge in.”

  “Good.” He dug in the cooler and started bringing out cheeses, olives, nuts, fruit, and meats. “I’m in the mood for some variety.”

  She offered to help prepare the board, but he wanted her to relax. She’d been so tightly wound since she arrived in Tucson—not that he could blame her. Still, she insisted on getting out the plates, napkins, and wine glasses. She opened a bottle of Chardonnay while he put everything together.

  Christie also opened a can of dog food. Trace fed him dry most of the time but gave him wet food as a treat a couple of times a week.

  After he’d sliced everything and arranged the pieces on a cutting board, he opened two boxes of crackers and took it all to the coffee table.

  Christie took the bowl of special dog food for Dallas and set it on the floor beside the coffee table. Dallas lay nearby like a majestic sphinx as he waited for Trace’s signal, telling him he could eat. Trace made the motion with his fingers and Dallas rose and went to his bowl. For a big dog, he ate quietly.

  Trace settled on the couch by Christie, their plates loaded. He began asking her questions as they ate. He tried to keep things light for a while, but he wanted to know more about her, from her thoughts about anything and everything to what drove her in life.

  “Tell me about Indiana,” he said.

  She shrugged. “It’s a pretty quiet life. I work with my cousin and just try to enjoy the simpler things.” She smiled. “Like embroidery. I embroidered blocks my grandma quilted.”

  “It sounds like you have a good life there.” He studied her. “Have you been dating?”

  “No.” Her smile faded a little. “I don’t know if I can. I’ve never had a normal relationship and, honestly, I’m not sure how a healthy relationship works.” She shrugged. “I was a different person with Salvatore. He told me what to wear, what to do, what to say, how to act. He even dictated my interactions with my friends.” She glanced away from Trace. “I don’t want to ever lose myself in a man again.”

  “Don’t let one bad man continue to control your life,” he said softly.

  She seemed sad. “I know. You’re right.”

  He hooked his finger under her chin. “From the beginning, I wanted to see you thrive and grow stronger every day like you have over these past months. You were an amazing woman before, but I like this new, independent you.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled. “That means a
lot.” Clearly, she desperately wanted to move the topic from herself to him. “What about you? Any serious relationships? Have you ever been married?”

  “Never been married.” The way she watched him made him feel as if she were waiting for a reaction. “I’ve dated women, but nothing serious.”

  She nodded but didn’t say anything, and appeared to be thinking about what he’d just said. She picked up a cracker and loaded meat and cheese on it.

  “What else is going on in Indiana?” He tried to make sure his question was light enough. “Are you happy there?”

  Christie lowered the cracker with Havarti and peppered salami, instead of taking a bite. “Things have been good, but it’s taken me a while to adjust.”

  He held her gaze. “When this is all over, will you consider staying in Arizona?”

  “I don’t know.” She set the food on the paper plate on the coffee table and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “Bisbee will always be home, and I miss it.” She tore her gaze away before meeting his eyes again. “But there are so many bad memories I want to get away from.”

  “I’ll bet there are a hundred times more good memories.” He spoke with sincerity. “You have your friends from the CoS, too.”

  “Thanks to my ex-husband, the Circle of Seven doesn’t exist anymore.” She clearly had to fight to hold back the tears. “We’re broken.”

  “I’m so sorry, honey.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to his chest, taking care not to hurt her injured arm. “I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

  “It’s okay.” She rested her cheek against his chest, so soft and real. “I should think of the friends who remain.”

  “Like Belle and Dylan.” Trace kissed the top of her head. “And their baby.”

  Christie tilted her head and she looked at him with her gorgeous eyes. “You’re right, there are a hundred happier times I can remember. Our friends who are no longer here would have wanted each of us to be happy.”

  Her words died away as their gazes held. He slid his fingers along her jawline and brushed her lips with his thumb. God, how he wanted her.