“Space pirates?” Alex asked, his eyes rounding.
“Yeah . . .” She slid him a sly smile. “And that one got caught by a bounty hunter. Who was a chick.”
Gus snorted. Then he shoved off the wall and gestured down the hall. “Milady, your bower awaits. But you’ll need to help me get the mattress onto the bed frame.”
* * *
HE probably should have tried to do it himself. He could have, but he wanted to make sure the bed was where she wanted it before he bothered. But now, in addition to having images of tasting her mouth, he wanted to see her stretched out on the bed, all that long, wild hair spread out around her as he stripped her clothes away.
He was too intimately acquainted with that body after three hours of helping her drag and move and push furniture, boxes, and every other damn thing she’d had crammed into that truck. Too familiar with those long, lean muscles and the way she moved with more confidence and control than any woman should have a right to.
He had more than a passing acquaintance with females. He’d had lovers whose bodies were honed to an athletic tightness, and others who were so soft and lushly female. Lovers whose bodies had been sculpted by the finest plastic surgeons around, and he appreciated every damned last one.
But Vaughnne . . . his hands itched to strip her naked already and he had no idea just why. It had been years since he’d had time to indulge in such a thing, but he hadn’t had any trouble ignoring it until today. Until her.
She was a powerhouse of curves and sleek muscles, the kind of muscles that came from a dedication to fitness, yet none of it had affected the sheer female beauty of her. Her hips and ass were still lush and round, her breasts soft and full under the tank top she wore. Every once in a while, her bra strap had peeked out from under the edge of the shirt, simple and black, and it was driving him out of his mind.
“I think this will do.”
As she stroked a hand down the mattress, he tracked the motion of her hand for a moment before he schooled his features into blankness and lifted his gaze to study her face. Her features had to be the most unique he’d ever seen. She was pretty, yes. Not beautiful, but pretty.
And unique, with those dark freckles dancing across her nose, a top-heavy mouth, and her smooth, warm brown skin.
“Is the bed where you want it?” he asked. He thought it would do better under the window. Where the morning light would come in and dance across that perfect body of hers.
Vaughnne heaved out a sigh and lifted her arms. She dragged the bandanna off her hair with one hand and used the other to gather her hair into a tail. “At this point, you could have glued the stupid thing to the ceiling and I wouldn’t care. I just want it done. I’ll take a better look around tomorrow, and if it’s not where I want it, I can get it moved on my own.”
She fished around in her pocket and pulled out a little black band, snapping it around her hair before shooting a look at her watch. “Now if that damn pizza would get here—”
The doorbell rang.
Alex appeared in the doorway, and although he knew Vaughnne wouldn’t see it, the boy’s face was taut, tense with nerves.
With that easy smile on her face, Vaughnne said, “It’s about damn time. You two sure you don’t want some? There are plates and stuff in the kitchen.”
As Alex crossed to stand by him, Gus mentally ran through the layout of the house. The kitchen was just up the hall. They could stay out of sight of the front door. Although the backpack was by the front door. Careless . . . he’d gotten careless. A look at Alex’s face had him thinking it through again. Alex was nervous . . . nervous, not scared.
This would work. They’d stay out of sight in the kitchen, and if he had to go through bodies to get the bag, then he’d do it. He had the Sig Sauer tucked into place at his back, regardless.
“I don’t know . . . you hungry, Alex?”
* * *
VAUGHNNE wondered if that pizza delivery kid would have been so obnoxious if he knew there was a man with a very loaded, very dangerous weapon lurking just about twenty feet away from him.
Granted, she had her own weapons, although she’d wisely left them out of sight, and off her body, as much as she hated it. The man saw too clearly, though, and if he’d seen a weapon on her, he would have been gone.
Hard to guard a body when the body was hauling ass to the state line.
As she sauntered into the kitchen, one large pie in her hands and a box of wings on top, she kept her focus on the kid. Wasn’t hard, since Gus wasn’t in the kitchen just yet. The first thing he’d done once the front door shut was move out of the kitchen. All lazy, easy moves, from the way he looked, but he’d wasted no time getting the bag he’d tucked behind the front door.
Whatever he carried in that thing, it must be important. As he came back into the kitchen, his gaze sought out Alex. The kid gave him a wan smile and she could all but feel a pop in the air as some of the tension drained away.
Pretending not to notice their preoccupation, she dumped the pizza on the table. “I kept it basic,” she said, flipping the lid up. “I was kind of figuring you might want something—I hear about how boys your age always have room for food and I figured it was the least I could do to say thanks. I doubted you’d want the garbage truck approach I take to my food.”
Alex wrinkled his nose, relaxing a little more as he leaned in and eyed the pizza. “Garbage truck?”
“Yeah.” She grinned at him. “I get it loaded with just about everything.”
She found the cabinet where she’d already put the plates. One thing about moving in—if you didn’t get the basic stuff out, toiletries, dishes, books—books were very basic—then it just made it that much more annoying. She grabbed three of them and passed them out before moving to the fridge. “All I have is sugary stuff,” she said, shooting Gus a wry smile. “I’ve got the appetite of a six-year-old boy. Coke, Big Red, some root beer. I do have milk, but it’s chocolate.”
“I’ll take a Big Red,” Alex said.
She glanced at Gus. He shrugged. “That’s fine. I’ll have water.”
“I have beer,” she offered. She snagged a Big Red for Alex, another Mike’s Hard Lemonade for herself. “And these?”
He snorted and shook his head. “I’ll pass.”
* * *
SHE shouldn’t have had the second lemonade.
Vaughnne could admit that nearly two hours after they left as she emerged from a deep, deep sleep to the sound of her alarm.
She’d set her phone to go off because she wanted to take a good look around and get a feel for things when she wasn’t going to be seen. So that meant . . . at night.
But she was exhausted. If she didn’t plan on trying to get some more sleep, she might have gone and chugged a few of the Monsters she had stashed in the fridge, but she was damned well going to get sleep unless all hell broke loose.
She didn’t think that was going to happen.
Everything inside her body was just screaming for bed, and if there were problems, adrenaline would be crashing through her and clearing away the clouds. That only made it harder to drag her tired ass out the door once she’d donned a black tank top and some black jogging shorts. She’d thought about going for something a little more concealing, but that kid already had her reevaluating things.
She’d come up with something if they woke up and saw her snooping around. Vaughnne was nothing if not clever and quick on her feet, but if she was dressed up all ninja-like, that was not going to set the oh-so-sexy Gus or the oh-so-scared Alex at ease.
Why are you so scared, anyway, kid? she wondered as she started down the street. Right now, the plan was to get the lay of the land. Nothing like a midnight jog for that. Even had an excuse. She couldn’t sleep. They didn’t have to know she was lying.
It was a quiet neighborhood, she decided. Run-down and tired, but trying to cling to nice, and it looked like everybody here still tried to take care of what they owned.
And . . . each
other, she figured out not even eight minutes into her run.
A cop car came around the corner and she grimaced, slowing to a stop, keeping her hands at her sides. She’d put her license in her pocket before she left—not her license, but one of the fakes she carried for working so she was in the clear there. Even as the two cops climbed out of the car, she figured it wasn’t a total irritation that they’d been called.
She had another piece of the puzzle. The people around here did watch things. Would make it harder for her to do what she needed to do. Harder. But not impossible. Also made it safer for the kid. A little, at least.
As the younger cop loitered off to the side, she focused on the older one. A tall guy, his skin nearly as black as the night, smiled at her, a nice, professional smile. “Ma’am.”
“Evening.” Then she grimaced and looked around. “I guess I should say night.”
“Guess so.” He smiled a little more naturally. “It’s kind of late for a jog. Had a call about a strange woman prowling around.”
Damn. Glad I didn’t go for the prowling method, Vaughnne thought. Even as she thought, she gave a disgruntled sigh and swiped a hand over the back of her brow. “Do I really look like I’m prowling around, Officer? I’m running.”
“At one in the morning?” his partner asked.
Younger. Rookie, Vaughnne decided. Still had the shine on him, and the stupid.
“I had a hard time getting to sleep,” she said mildly. “I just moved into my new place today and I don’t know where a gym or anything is around here. The only thing that helps me sleep when I’m having insomnia is a workout. So I went for a run.”
“Where did you move into?”
The response that leaped to mind was, None of your damned business. But instead of going with that, she shrugged and waved off to the east. “Westbrook Avenue, a few blocks over.”
Somebody who had never had trouble with the law, or didn’t work in law enforcement, was just going to answer that sort of question, because they automatically thought cooperating made everything better. Sometimes it did. Sometimes it didn’t. Right then, it didn’t hurt her to cooperate. Vaughnne was an old hand at dealing with law enforcement . . . from both sides. She carried a badge of her own now, but there had been a time when she was the one having trouble with the law. Lessons that had served her well more than once.
“Just moved into a new area and you’re out running around in the dead of night.”
She looked back at the rookie and lifted a brow. “I was told it was a safe area. Was I told wrong?”
“It’s a nice enough area,” the older cop said, subtly moving so that he stood just a bit between her and his partner. “But you can never be too careful, Ms. . . .”
“Caffee,” she said, sighing. “Vaughnne Caffee. Fine. I’ll head back home. Unless I’m in trouble for taking a damned run?”
“No.” He shook his head and smiled again. “No trouble. You understand, of course, we have to follow up on the calls we get.”
“Sure.” Without looking at the other one, she turned around and started back down the sidewalk. They watched her for a few minutes.
She took the longer route on the way back to the little house she was calling home. She still needed to get a better look at the setup where Gus and Alex lived. Figure out the best way to keep an eye on things. Although she already had a decent idea how she’d do that. The tricky thing was going to be getting it all set up.
The little house was even smaller than hers. More run-down than most of them, although she could see signs where somebody, probably Gus, was working on things.
Hard to tell in the dark, of course. The windows bothered her. Windows and doors were the most vulnerable areas of a house. Where did the boy sleep? In a room of his own?
There were no lights—
Then one flashed on and she crossed the road. Casual. Jogging across the road, waiting for that prickle feeling between her shoulder blades that would let her know she was being watched.
It never came. But as she unlocked the door and slipped inside, her breathing was coming far too erratic and her heart beat in a harsh, unsteady rhythm against her ribs. Leaning against the door, she edged to the side and peered through the narrow window, watching as a shadow moved through the house across the street.
* * *
IT had been years since he’d slept well.
Too many years.
Usually the dreams that plagued him were full of screams, or broken cries. Desperate whispers and fears and blood and misery.
This time, though . . . well, there had been broken cries. Desperate whispers. And heat. So much of it. He’d been back in that house across the street, but this time, he’d been alone there with Vaughnne, and when she’d gone to tug her bra strap into place, he caught her hand and stopped her.
He could remember how soft her skin had felt in the dream. So very, very soft . . . it would feel like that in real life, he thought. But in the dream . . . yeah. Yeah, she’d been soft. And when he went to strip her shirt away, she’d just stood there, watching him, her eyes intent and quiet, a strange little Mona Lisa smile on that wicked, sexy mouth.
He’d tangled his hands in her hair and feasted on her mouth like it had been decades since he’d touched a woman. It had only been four years, but that was too long.
Before he had managed to get her completely naked and bury his aching dick inside her, the dream had shattered. Gus didn’t know what had woken him, but whatever it was, he was awake and he knew better than to lie in bed when his body was suddenly humming with tension.
A quick glance at the clock told him that he’d gotten two hours of sleep.
Not enough.
But it didn’t matter. He listened to the silence of the old house as he rolled silently out of the bed, his hand gripping the butt of his weapon. Back to the wall, he checked the hallway out of habit. His instincts said the house was empty, save for him and the boy. He didn’t trust them. Creeping down the hallway, he checked inside and saw that Alex was sleeping on his belly, face buried in a pillow.
Alex . . . Alex was asleep. That he would trust. Sighing, he sagged against the wall behind him and scrubbed a hand down his face while the adrenaline drained out of him.
Alex wouldn’t be asleep if there was any sort of threat within a hundred feet of the house. He was like a living, breathing danger meter.
“Gus?”
In the dim light, he could see Alex lift his head. Forcing himself to smile, he said, “Go to sleep, kid. It’s okay.”
Knowing the boy would sleep better if there were lights on while he was moving through the house, Gus flicked on the hallway light as he prowled around. He needed a drink, so before he did anything, he bypassed the kitchen and pulled down the bottle he kept stashed over the refrigerator. Tequila, cheap shit, but the only thing he could afford, straight, the burn of it heating his throat and then his belly as he moved through the house, checking it over once more.
Alex slept in the narrow little room he’d claimed for his own. It wasn’t intended for a bedroom, but neither of them worried about that. The cot in there wasn’t exactly what Gus wanted for him, but what Alex needed the most was to feel safe and he’d sleep better someplace closest to Gus, someplace where nobody could come in through the windows.
If they came in through the windows where Gus slept, they would have an unpleasant surprise, he thought. So very unpleasant.
Pausing by the open entryway, he watched as Alex rolled onto his side, hugging a pillow against him. You’re safe, Alex, Gus thought. And for as long as he breathed, Gus would do every damn thing he could to keep the boy safe.
Every damn thing. He’d make any sacrifice. Give up anything and everything. It didn’t matter what rivers he had to cross, what mountains he had to climb, what dragons he had to slay. The boy had lost enough. Gus’s job was to keep him from losing anything else.
Knowing the boy wouldn’t stay asleep if he remained there brooding, Gus took his tequila and s
lid outside to sit on the front porch.
Across the street, Vaughnne’s house was dark.
She’d be asleep, he thought. She’d been so tired with dark circles under her eyes and exhaustion in every line of her body when they left.
Stop thinking about her. He had no room in his life for that. Not for anything.
The only thing he had room for was the boy.
Alex was his focus, and that was the way it had to be.
THREE
THE cookies smelled too damned good.
Vaughnne helped herself to two of them as they cooled, and she knew if she didn’t get them out of there, she would eat more of them. Which meant she’d have to tack another mile onto her run when she hit the pavement later that day.
But with the scent of chocolate, both white and dark, filling the air, and her belly still demanding another cookie, she almost gave in.
If Gus didn’t leave the old lady’s house next door soon, she would give in.
It was turning into a bitch, keeping an eye on him. She’d set up exterior cameras over the past few nights, planted around his property, but not on it. He was too . . . cautious. Yeah, that was it. Jones still wasn’t having any luck turning up information on either of them, and that in itself was a puzzle, but the guy was so cautious. So watchful. He held himself in a way that normal people didn’t. Like he was ready to fight, ready to run, ready to react to any damn thing.
If she planted cameras on his property, she knew he’d find them in a heartbeat.
Still, around the perimeter, a few here and there, and they weren’t exactly watching him. They were watching for anybody that might be trying to get to him. A nice 360 view of the place. Ideally, she’d wanted one inside the house, but she was reconsidering that plan every time she saw him.
Tipping him off that somebody was watching him just wasn’t going to go over well.
Sighing, she checked the window again. The truck was still in front of the house, and nope, he still hadn’t left the house next door.
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