by Nina Crespo
She leaned closer, not in an overt way but just enough to give him a better visual of her breasts. “Why did you volunteer for Project Sampson?”
He made himself peek at the glimpse of lace and waited for it. The surge of lust. The tingle in his groin. Nothing. “What’s your guess?”
She sunk her teeth into her full bottom lip as her gaze dropped below his waist. “Bigger, better toys.”
Nope. His cock didn’t even pop up and wave the slightly interested flag. He’d slept with women before on missions. They easily fit into the one-and-done scheme, but not this time.
Her gaze narrowed with a contemplative expression. “Who is she?”
“Who?”
“The woman who’s taken you off the market.”
Heat poured from his collar. “I’m definitely committed to staying single.”
She snorted. “Come on. I know that look. Fess up. You think about her all the time. No other woman measures up in comparison. When’s the last time you’ve seen her?”
Did his dreams count? On those occasions, his cock worked just fine. It was as if he could feel Lauren wrapped around him, taste her on his lips. More than one morning, he’d spent extra time in a cold shower waiting for his massive hard-on to subside. When he wasn’t dreaming about having sex with her, he was thinking of that cabin in Mazree. He’d even gone as far as searching out the place and phased to the cabin one lonely weekend. No one was there.
“She lives far away.”
Teri nudged him. “Does she know how you feel about her?”
“It’s complicated. Especially since I’m assigned to Project Samson. I have to stay focused on the here and now.” Time to change the conversation to more important things. He leaned in. “The new armor upgrades must be pretty intense. Dent seems worried.”
“You know that I’m buzzed, not drunk.”
He feigned innocence. “What do you mean?”
“You hotshots are all the same.” She chuckled. “Trying to get the inside scoop to give you an edge. It’s not a competition.”
Playing onto the ego factor, he shrugged. “Can you blame me? Navy is all amped up about showing off for the admiral coming next week. If they beat my time, you know I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Her gaze narrowed on him as if deep in thought. She crooked her finger for him to come in closer. “Only because I like you, and remember, you didn’t hear this from me…. The admiral moved up his visit. We’re doing the demo tomorrow afternoon, and Dent’s definitely not happy about it.”
Reid swirled the beer in his bottle and tamped down the tension in his gut. Damn. No time. He had to find the formula. Now. “So I guess since you’re not working late tonight, you and the techs have an early morning.”
She snorted. “You would think, but no. Dent’s handling it personally. He’s doing everything from the physical stat check for the guys doing the demo to suiting them up.”
“Why? What’s so important about the upgrades?”
“That’s the funny thing. We haven’t seen them. No schematics or specs. Nothing.” She shook her head. “Be glad you’re not in on this one. I wouldn’t want to demo something I only had a couple of hours to figure out.”
* * * *
In the darkened lab, Reid pulled his cell from the pocket of his black jeans and checked the time. Twenty-eight minutes after. Two more minutes before Speaks had to bring the alarm and video feeds back on line. The hacker did have his moments of brilliance. He’d also come through with the right codes to open the storage safes, including the one in Dent’s office. Unfortunately, he’d found no vials, tubes, or packets marked with the DELILAH code. If Teri was right about Dent, he’d probably transport it to work with him.
He made one last visual sweep. Assured he’d left nothing open or behind, Reid phased to his rented black SUV. Cars dotted the twenty-four-hour, superstore parking lot. No one noticed or cared about him suddenly appearing. He went inside, stocked up on energy drinks, and grabbed a premade deli sandwich and chips.
Parked near Dent’s house in a subdivision still under construction, he settled in. As he sat in the SUV, he searched the place through his binoculars. Someone was still up. Reid rubbed his gritty eyes. Double duty was starting to wear on him. He missed the benefits of working as a team. They all would have had assignments. He could have spent more time in the program, watching for clues. Colby would work on intel. Mace usually ran surveillance. Thane. He wouldn’t be there. He was too busy handling Celine.
Reid tossed the bag of chips aside. The team wouldn’t function the same, but they’d get the job done. As second in command, he had the same leadership style as Thane. He allowed the guys to take initiative. He also didn’t mind them respectfully sharing input.
While he was gone, they were combing through their last mission, trying to find answers. Where did the ball get dropped? What had they missed? Was Dalir mission ineffective when it came to providing the right supernatural intel? Dalir had the power to decide a lot of things, but if they made that determination about him, he’d have to confront him. As a incorporeal presence, Dalir couldn’t physically put boots on the ground to get things done. They put their asses on the line for him. If he messed up, they suffered.
He spotted Dent driving his gray Lexus out of his garage. The milky predawn added shadows to the quiet suburban street.
Reid sat up in the driver’s seat. As Dent turned right at the end of the block, he followed. After hours of energy drinks and boredom, expectancy surged blood through his veins. The landscape of subdivisions changed to open road. Cars sped by. Reid kept Dent’s car in view but stayed several vehicles behind. He couldn’t let the program manager out of his sight. Dent either had DELILAH with him or planned to pick the formula up on the way. Eventually a window would open to phase in and scoop it up. Or he’d make one. He’d phase the formula back with him. West had an expert on standby to diffuse the nanotech.
They merged onto the interstate. Pre-rush-hour traffic sped freely down the lanes. A tractor-trailer carrying a load of long pipes blew past. Shutters shook the wheel. Brake lights flashed one after the other in front of him. The solid hit of fiberglass and breaking car windows kicked up his heart rate. Wheels squealed on the pavement. Cars veered and spun out of control.
Shit. Reid steered away from the collision. The SUV vibrated as it crossed over the rumble strip. He jammed on the brake and jerked to a stop. He got out the car. The odor of gas and burned rubber permeated the air. Reid ran toward the three-car pileup and the tractor-trailer.
A large metal pole crushed the hood of the Lexus near the windshield.
Blood dripped from the side of Dent’s head and over his closed eyes. The dashboard trapped his legs. They’d have to cut him out.
Reid opened the driver’s side door. “Frank, it’s Sergeant Montgomery. Can you hear me?”
A dark haired woman ran to Reid’s side. “Ambulances are on the way.”
Dent groaned. “DELILAH.”
Reid’s heart galloped. “Where is she, Frank? Stay with me. Is DELILAH in the car?
“In the back.”
“There’s no one else in the car,” the woman said. “He must be delirious.”
“Keep him talking.” Reid opened the back driver’s side door. A metal case lay on the floor. Sirens wailed in the distance. He couldn’t do anything more for Dent. Reid snagged the case. As he sped into the golden tunnel of the phase, wetness spilled on to his hand. A fiery sensation raged up his arm and boiled in his chest. Still he held onto the case. Even as a cold brush of energy shoved him into darkness.
Chapter 7
The future
“I’m okay. I can handle this.” Lauren adjusted her cellphone next to her ear. She took the suitcase out of the trunk of her car.
“I know. It’s not that I think you can’t.” Ari sighed. “I just hate that you’re up there alone. Are you sure you want to do this?”
Almost two years had passed since her father had died from a h
eart attack. Him leaving her the cabin in his will was as unexpected as his death. Caretaker’s fees strained her bank account. The Realtor’s inquiry about selling had prompted her to act. She’d gathered her courage to face what he’d left behind, hopefully answers.
Lauren hefted the strap of her carry-on over her shoulder. “Yes. It’s time.”
“All right, but don’t forget to text me. Otherwise, I’ll have nightmares about some wild animal carrying you off into the woods. I’m serious. If I don’t hear from you at least once a day, I’m calling the police.”
Ari wouldn’t just call the police. She’d demand a search party. “Yes, Mother.”
“Stop being a smartass, Blondie.”
The line disconnected prematurely. The joy and pain of solitude and spotty cellphone reception.
Lauren rolled her luggage up the stone walkway. Fatigue weighed on her shoulders. The last few miles from civilization to nowhere were brutal. The promise of sleep had kept her going. She’d get plenty of rest in between cleaning out her father’s things. The Realtor had said listing the cabin as furnished would help it sell. That meant she didn’t have to worry about moving larger items. She had two weeks, and she’d allotted a week to sort through his things. The final week, she’d enjoy the uncomplicated beauty of the woods.
She took a deep cleansing breath and walked inside. Particles swirled in the late evening sunlight. As a child, she’d always rushed past her parents to get through the door. Nostalgia crept in along with a pang of sadness. After her parents’ divorce, the annual summer treks had ended. She’d come back with her dad to the cabin a few times, but it wasn’t the same. A joint custody agreement had given both of her parents equal legal guardianship over her. Army deployments, new duty stations overseas, and remarriage had taken him away. Before he’d died, her father had made an effort to reconnect. She’d spent last Christmas with him and his family in Denver. She’d gotten to know her stepmother and stepsister. They’d talked about spending a few weeks together in Mazree.
Rumbles of thunder and a darkening sky set her into motion. She returned to her car and got the rest of her things. Lightning broke up the gray shadows. A cool, pine-scented breeze seeped through her blouse and jeans. It pushed her into the cabin. She stowed her luggage in the master bedroom and put away the few items she’d brought in a cooler. As the rain pounded, she poured a glass of merlot and leaned on the marble-topped kitchen island.
Deep brown wood flooring spanned the living room and into the bedrooms. A stone fireplace complemented the blue sectional, matching side chairs, and a wood coffee table. Her father had recently updated the kitchen. He’d also added spa-like touches to the bathrooms and remodeled the deck. The Realtor had said all of the modern upgrades had increased the cabin’s value. The added footage of the loft made the property even more attractive. Lightning flashes lit up the loft. She noted the boxes. He’d dropped them off just weeks before he’d died. He’d joked about the cabin becoming his man cave. He’d planned to enjoy more leisure time there, painting the landscape. Her mother wanted no part in sorting through her ex-husband’s possessions. Grief still overwhelmed her stepmother to the point where she couldn’t. Whatever he’d left in the cabin had meant something to him. Throwing it away without taking a look seemed wrong.
Lauren peeked through the curtain covering the French doors. No stars were visible. Zigzagged lightning lit up the loose covering over the built-in grill. One side of the vinyl sheet flapped and fluttered wildly in the wind. Crap. So much for keeping dry. She found a rain poncho in her bag. After turning on the deck lights, she squinted against the blowing rain and ventured out. On the second try, she snagged the cover and tied it to the metal loops. On her way past the long wood table with benches, lightning illuminated the partially covered deck. A man clad in pants and boots lay on his side at the bottom of the steps. Instincts trumped caution. Lauren hurried down and knelt in the grass. A tattoo circled above where she grasped his arm to turn him over. Chilled skin cooled her fingers. On his back, his eyes remained closed. Blood dripped from his temple. Mud streaked his face.
Lauren put her ear to his chest. He had a heartbeat. “Hey.” She shook him. “Can you hear me?”
Rain fell harder. A crack of lightning hit in the woods. They had to get moving.
She leaned down to his ear. “Please get up. I can’t carry you.”
His low groan spurred her heart rate. He lifted his head, then his shoulders. His torso shook with the effort.
Lauren shifted partially behind him. “That’s it.”
The stranger towered over her as he swayed. Not only tall, he outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds. If he fell, he’d easily take her down, too.
She caught him around the waist. “Whoa. Hold on. Take it slow. Put your arm around me, but grab the railing.” He followed her directions and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. His musky, masculine scent mixed appealingly with the clean fragrance of earth and rain.
They made it up the stairs and across the deck. Finally, they stumbled inside the cabin.
He sagged heavily.
As they fell near the coffee table, both of his arms tightened around her. He shifted, taking the brunt of the fall. They hit the wood floor with a solid thunk.
He blinked woozily and clumsily caressed her back. “Are you okay?”
A pleasurable shiver of déjà vu waved down her spine. Soothing, familiar, he made the perfect pillow. Wait. What was she doing? He needed her help. “I’m fine.” She slipped from under his arm. “Can you make it to the sofa?”
He lifted up and slumped back down. “I just need to lie here a minute.”
Lauren whipped off her poncho and tossed it aside. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“It’s okay.” She patted his shoulder. The tattoo. Someone she knew had that same design, but who? “I’m just going to see if I can call for help.”
“No.” His hand shot up and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t call anyone.” The hint of desperation in his hazel eyes softened the command. “Please. I just need you.”
Instead of fear, trust and protectiveness came to life. No. This was crazy, and why didn’t he want medical help? The urge to comply outweighed her reservations. “Okay. Let me get blankets. You’re shivering.”
He released her and sank back down.
Lauren ran to the linen closet in the hall for blankets and then to the bathroom for a first aid kit. Starting with his head, she cleaned the blood from his temple. The tiny cut was clotted over, not the massive gash she’d expected with all of the blood. She checked him over. Grass and dirt dotted his hair, faded almost down to skin at the sides. No major injuries, just small cuts marred his muscular chest. A car accident? A fall while hiking in the woods? What had happened to him? “Your jeans are soaked. We need to take them off.” She removed his heavy black boots. A boot knife was sheathed at his ankle. Not unusual to see one. Her father always carried a knife in the woods. She removed it along with his socks. If this guy was hunting, hiking or camping, where was the rest of his gear?
He reached for his waistband, but his fingers kept slipping away.
“Let me. I’ll do it.” A sprinkling of damp hair tickled her fingers.
He exhaled and his abdominals formed into tight ridges.
She popped open the rivet and slid down the zipper. His black boxer-briefs formed to the distinct curve of his sex. Her breasts tingled. A vivid image popped in of straddling his hips and riding him to climax. Lauren met his hooded, semi lucid gaze. Awareness rippled. She cleared her throat. “Lift your hips.”
He complied.
Working together they tugged the wet, muddy denim down his muscular legs. She spread the blankets over him.
He exhaled. “Just need to rest.” His eyes fluttered closed. “Lauren…I found you.”
She jerked back on her heels. He knew her name?
Blind or drunk off her ass. They qualified as the only reasons she wouldn’t r
emember him, but they didn’t fit. Her eyesight was fine, and she hadn’t gone over the limit with alcohol since college.
Could he be a setup for a date or maybe a strippergram gone wrong? No way. Not even her craziest friends would send her some random guy without a warning. Was he someone interested in buying the cabin? That didn’t fit either. She’d talked to her Realtor, Jan, that morning. Prospective buyers wouldn’t view the cabin until after she’d left. Who was he and why had he come to find her? Stalker scenarios emerged, but her instincts brushed them off.
Thunder boomed. Rain fell in sheets on the windows. Dark roads didn’t mix well with storms, so driving to town wouldn’t happen tonight, and emergency crews probably had their hands full. He’d have to spend the night. She picked up his jeans and searched the pockets. No keys or ID, just a piece of blue paper with numbers. Wetness had washed away the last two digits. A phone number? Lauren set it aside.
In the master bedroom, she changed into sweats and a fitted tee. As she searched through her suitcase, her hand brushed against a small weapons case. For snakes or human intruders, the semiautomatic gave a boost of confidence. Thankfully, she’d never had to fire it in self-defense. Lauren listened for movement. She tucked the gun in the nightstand. For some reason, she felt even safer with him in the cabin. If anything changed, she had a stun gun holstered to her purse.
She threw their clothes in the wash and cleaned up the living room.
He slept.
Her stomach demanded food. She made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and devoured it. If he woke up hungry, she didn’t have much to offer. She’d planned to shop in town. Is that where he’d come from? Who was he? Where had they met? Careful not to wake him, she pressed her hand to his face. A light tan had replaced paleness, and he felt warmer.
He released a low groan, and his legs tangled in the blanket. Lines etched into his forehead.