Rescue Me

by Kira Sinclair

Together, they collapsed onto the bed. Finn maneuvered them both until he could pull the covers over their sweat-slicked skin. He didn’t want her to get cold.

  Her body boneless, Tucker let him. And almost as amazing as the orgasm he’d just experienced was the bliss when she curled up against him, her mouth nuzzling sleepily against his throat and shoulder.

  His arm tightened around her, wanting to keep her there, next to him, forever.

  12

  IT WAS DARK when Tucker’s eyes opened. For a few seconds she was disoriented, unsure exactly where she was. The room wasn’t hers.

  In a blinding rush, the entire night crashed over her.

  Her fight with Finn. Seeing his house and getting a glimpse into the man he didn’t let many people see.

  The sex. Unbelievable, soul-stirring, life-altering sex.

  Her chest tightened and the need to run overwhelmed her. Suddenly, the room felt like it was closing in on her. He’d made her feel. The memory of emotions she didn’t want sent panic rolling faster through her belly.

  Damn him for pushing her to that point and leaving her protective layers in tatters between them.

  Rolling over, she intended to get up and...what? Walk home? Call a cab?

  Tucker had no idea, but she couldn’t stay in his bed.

  Her feet hadn’t even hit the floor before a low, lazy voice asked, “Going somewhere?”

  Her gaze flew to the dark corner of the room where Finn sat in a chair. Moonlight fell across him, illuminating half of his face and leaving the rest of it in cloaking shadows.

  “No.” Bullshit. She wasn’t going to lie to him. “Yes. What are you doing lurking in the dark? That’s not creepy or anything.”

  His lips quirked up at one corner. “I couldn’t sleep. Didn’t want to leave you alone in a strange place after the last couple days. You know running isn’t going to change anything, right?”

  God, how could this man know her so damn well after just a few days?

  “Not to mention that I’ll just have to go after you.”

  “Isn’t that called stalking?” she sneered, lashing out because the deeper she got with Finn the more she felt like she was drowning with no savior in sight.

  His eyes narrowed, but the smirk on his face didn’t budge. “Kitten, you tell me right now that you don’t feel what’s building between us and I’ll let you walk out the door without another word. There’s a difference between choosing to walk away from someone and running because you’re scared of what they make you feel. So, say it.”

  Tucker swallowed. The words welled up. She wanted to let them out, to free herself from this whole mess and from the jumbled, uncomfortable, scary things that Finn created inside her.

  But they wouldn’t come.

  Instead, she watched Finn unfold from the chair. For the first time she realized he was completely naked. God, he was beautiful. The pulse and flow of his body. Powerful and graceful. Those wide shoulders that were perfect for cradling her head. The riot of colorful ink down both of his arms and across his chest. The way he moved, always with direction and purpose.

  That was what excited her. He was intent and aware, not just of her, but of everything.

  Learning about his photography had surprised her...for about sixty seconds, until she really thought about it. Wasn’t that just an extension of who and what he already was?

  Finn watched the world. Often, especially at her bar, he was a silent observer, letting the chaos and the noise swirl unheeded around him while he concentrated on more important things. His photographs simply allowed everyone else to get a glimpse of what he saw.

  Crossing to the bed, he pressed a knee to the mattress, dipping it beneath her. His hand cupped her neck, drawing her up until his mouth pressed softly against hers.

  The kiss was...everything. Passion and comfort, praise and promise.

  Pulling back, those green eyes stared straight into her. “If you think you’re the only one who finds this unsettling and intimidating, then you’re wrong. You make me feel things, Tucker. Things I’d have an easier time not feeling. But that’s not how life works.”

  What was she supposed to say to that?

  When he took a step backward, for the first time Tucker realized Finn was cradling an expensive camera in his hand.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. “Were you taking pictures of me as I slept? Naked?”

  She wasn’t sure whether she should be pissed or aroused. Or both. A part of her was affronted that he hadn’t bothered asking her. But when did he ever? And having seen his work, it was flattering to think that he’d wanted to capture images of her to keep.

  “Chill out. You were covered. I wouldn’t cross that line unless you agreed,” he said, raising a single eyebrow.

  That hellish, beautiful ache he could stir between her thighs with nothing more than a glance was back, greedy and insistent.

  “Here,” Sitting on the bed beside her, Finn turned the camera so that she could see the small screen across the back.

  Pictures of her filled the space. Slowly, he scrolled through thirty or forty of them.

  “These are...amazing.” Although, just like everything else so far with Finn, they made her feel conflicted. There was something about them that made her look...vulnerable. And she didn’t like to think of herself that way.

  Maybe it was because she was asleep. Oblivious. Her mouth was slightly open, head resting on an arm and her body curled around one of his pillows. Light and shadow played over her face, making her look younger than she actually was.

  She looked innocent, something she hadn’t felt since her early teenage years.

  “You’re always gorgeous, Tucker. But I have to admit, when I woke up and saw you like this I knew I needed to capture the moment. You looked so comfortable and relaxed in my bed. I wanted to remember that you could be this way instead of the intense, independent, stubborn woman I’ve been butting my head against for days.”

  Tucker didn’t know what to do with that. It irritated her, but she couldn’t deny he was right. There was something about Finn that made her feel centered and easy. No one had ever done that for her, not even her dad. Yes, her father loved her and would do anything for her, but constantly worrying about him had been a major source of restlessness growing up.

  She didn’t want to think too deeply about that, though. Not right now.

  Grabbing the camera, she took it from his hands and turned the lens on him.

  “Fair is fair,” she said, before clicking the button to record an image of him on the screen.

  It was terrible—especially in comparison with the photographs he’d taken—slightly blurry, with half of his body cut out of the frame. But it made Tucker laugh.

  Scooting back on the bed, she moved farther away so she could get a better shot and tried again. At least this time he was clear, although his hands were half in front of his face, reaching out. “Give that back, Tucker. It’s expensive.”

  “And I promise not to break it. Now put your hands down.”

  His mouth twisted into a grimace, but he did as she asked. However, he turned away from her, giving her his profile instead. And looking through the viewfinder, she realized he was uncomfortable.

  “You don’t like having your picture taken.” It was so unexpected, Tucker blurted it out without thinking.

  Finn looked at her from the corner of his eye. “No, not really.”

  Oooh, she could torture him with this, sorta like he tortured her with that damn nickname he insisted on using.

  Rising onto her knees, Tucker brought the camera to her eye and started snapping one picture after another. She pressed closer, getting right into his face so he couldn’t avoid her, zooming in on his rueful expression.

  But that didn’t last long. Plucking h
er up, Finn dropped her back onto the bed and snatched the camera from her hands.

  “Hey!”

  “You realize two can play that game, right, kitten?”

  Finn fiddled with the camera, messing with some of the complicated dials and buttons on the back.

  “Why do you insist on calling me that when you know it drives me crazy?”

  Although, she had to admit, she was getting used to it. When he first started using the name it irritated the hell out of her. Now...she wouldn’t admit this to him without torture, but it made her feel special.

  “Because it drives you crazy.”

  “And that’s entertaining?”

  He glanced up from what he was doing, “Sure. But it’s more than that. From the first moment I met you, you reminded me of a feral alley cat.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Relax, kitten. I mean it as a compliment. Alley cats are strong.”

  “Dirty, covered in muck and stinky.”

  He shrugged. “They have their scars, but so do you. You’re gorgeous anyway.”

  He leaned close, nuzzling her neck. “Smell pretty good, too,” he said, before nipping at the pulse just below her ear.

  Tucker squealed and attempted to curl her body into a protective ball. But with him lodged between her thighs, the best she could do was wrap herself around him. He sucked and nibbled at her skin. His fingers raced, tickling and then teasing until she was panting from laughter and the exertion of trying to protect herself from his torture.

  Finn stepped back. Tucker collapsed onto the bed, arms flung, legs spread, lungs heaving, not caring that she was completely naked until Finn brought the camera to his face and pressed the button that engaged the shutter.

  Piling her hands one over the other, she shoved them at the business end of the lens. “What the hell! You said no naked pictures unless I agreed.”

  From behind the heavy piece of equipment, she could just make out the edge of his grin. “I just got your face, kitten. Promise. Couldn’t resist your flushed skin and the remnants of laughter in your eyes.”

  * * *

  FINN SNAGGED HER wrists and pulled them out of the way.

  Her eyes closed tight against the burst of flash and before she could open them again Finn’s mouth found hers. He devoured her, thrusting his tongue between her parted lips. An arm snaking around her body, he held her close even as he kept pressing the button, grabbing shot after shot. No doubt most of them were crooked or cut off.

  But neither of them seemed to care.

  Disengaging, Finn gently pushed her back against the bed and held up the camera. This time, the quirk of his eyebrow silently asked her for permission.

  “If these end up on the internet I’m going to hunt you down and hurt you,” was her only answer.

  “I don’t share, so no worries about that. These are just for me.”

  He began posing her, rolling her to her belly so that he could take a shot of the curve of her shoulder and back. Asking her to look at him, catching a glimpse of her face surrounded by the cloud of her messy curls. Capturing his strong, rough hand resting on the slope of her pale thigh.

  When he asked, she’d expected he’d want something a little more...risqué. But slowly, after about twenty minutes, Tucker realized he was actually fascinated with the lines of her body and how they came together to form the whole.

  And somewhere in the middle of the experience, she relaxed and accepted the way he saw her—perfect just as she was.

  Shortly after that, Finn abandoned the camera, placing it on the nightstand. He loved her, gently, completely, consuming every inch of her in a way that left her breathless and dizzy.

  And this time, when she curled up beside him, none of the apprehension and fear remained. All that was left was a quiet acceptance that this was happening.

  Despite everything, she was falling for this man. It might be fast and there were times when he drove her mad. But that didn’t matter.

  Finn McAllister was a good man, who, she was slowly beginning to hope, wouldn’t hurt or leave her.

  * * *

  THE LAST FEW days had been quiet and unproductive. At least as far as the case was concerned. Nothing had happened. Despite being at the bar a little bit each day, Duchess hadn’t found anything suspicious.

  That should have made Finn feel better. Instead, it was setting him on edge, making everything worse.

  The longer he spent with Tucker, the deeper entwined with her he was becoming. Each day he fell a little harder, and almost in direct correlation, the tension inside him grew greater and greater.

  He was just waiting for it to explode all around him.

  The lab had confirmed the drugs he found at the Rose carried the same chemical signature as the others they’d confiscated, including those from Sergeant Freeman.

  Something had to give. Soon. Finn was walking a razor’s edge, and the longer it took, the more difficult it became to stay rational and impartial.

  “You’re sure you’ve searched every room in the bar?” Dade’s voice crackled into the cell phone. “We’re missing something here, McAllister.”

  Which really meant the cop thought he was missing something. And that rankled.

  “Duchess and I have been here for days. She’s one of the best in her field. Trust me, she’d have been able to scent the slightest trace of drugs on anyone in the bar.”

  Unfortunately, the voice inside his head was screaming terrible things—like the reason they hadn’t found anything else was because the dealer had been tipped off. Although, as far as he was aware, Tucker was the only person who knew his ulterior motives for hanging around the Rose—even if those lines had long since blurred.

  Where Tucker was concerned, he was a jumbled-up mess. He wanted to believe in her innocence, but couldn’t quite pull it off. Partly because it felt like Bethany all over again. He didn’t want to turn a blind eye to a problem if it was staring him in the face.

  At least he hadn’t seen any evidence of Tucker using. And they’d been spending enough time together that he would have noticed.

  Although he wasn’t certain that made it better. Because the alternative was that she was potentially just a dealer, pushing drugs that killed other people for the sole purpose of monetary gain.

  And while he knew she had her vices—the expensive heels came to mind—so far she hadn’t struck him as overly concerned with amassing material things.

  What he did know was that she loved her bar. Had invested not just her heart, but her self-worth in the success of the place. Which could be dangerous. Enough to push her into something stupid?

  A jumbled mess.

  After talking for a few more minutes, Finn hung up with Dade and turned his focus back to the bar.

  Tonight, the Rose was as quiet as he’d seen the place. Wednesday nights were apparently a little less chaotic and loud. There were a few regulars, people he recognized because he’d been paying such close attention. But, so far, none of them were raising any red flags.

  Since the crowd was lighter, Tucker’s staff moved a little slower than normal. The waitresses didn’t dance on the bar nearly as often. And several times he noticed them knotted up at the opposite end of the bar, just chatting.

  Wyatt and Matt were the only guys in tonight, which made sense since the likelihood of a problem was pretty slim.

  Tucker’s head of security plopped down onto the stool beside him.

  “You’ve been around a lot lately.”

  Finn shrugged. “Don’t plan on going anywhere as long as Tucker wants me here.”

  Wyatt grunted, the sound could have meant anything from agreement to concern.

  “Slow tonight.”

  “Wednesdays usually are. I’ve talked to her about closing a couple more days
during the week, but she doesn’t like to have the place sitting empty. Something about sunk costs and any sales helping the bottom line.”

  Now it was his turn to grunt a reply. That definitely sounded like the Tucker he was learning to recognize.

  Monday they’d come to the bar and he’d spent a couple of hours watching her deal with paperwork—and meet the distributor with the corrected shipment, which did make him feel a hell of a lot better, at least for a little while.

  He’d been amazed at the spreadsheets she’d pored over. When he’d asked, she’d shown him the detailed cost/benefit analysis, not only for each night of the week for the last several months, but on each product they offered in the kitchen.

  While he wasn’t entirely surprised by her thoroughness, it had impressed him. He’d always known she wasn’t some ditzy blonde stumbling her way through running a business. Actually, she reminded him more and more of a captain he’d known over in Afghanistan. A man he greatly admired.

  “Honestly.” Wyatt leaned forward, crossing his arms over the bar and staring at the wood. “She’d kill me if she knew I was saying anything, but maybe you can talk some sense into her. I’m worried about her. She’s working herself to the bone and I don’t know how much longer she can last.”

  Wyatt wasn’t saying anything Finn hadn’t noticed himself. Tucker worked long hours, late into the night. She was on her feet most of that time, dragging, serving and lifting, and doing it all with a smile and keen eye toward customer service.

  She was always on. Always vigilant.

  And when the bar was closed, she was handling paperwork, distributors, accounting and managerial tasks. He didn’t need a road map drawn for him to know the Kentucky Rose was everything to her.

  “She’s sunk every penny she has into this place. Used some money her aunt left her, but that master’s was expensive and she spared no expense making this place fabulous. I’m pretty sure she’s swimming in debt. Skating on the edge of disaster, man, and I’m really afraid something’s eventually going to push her off. Push her to do something desperate.”

  Wait, what? Everything Tucker had shared with him Monday about the business had made him believe the Rose was profitable. Although, she hadn’t actually shown him her bank balances or anything.