by Tee O'Fallon
Jesse said their stepfather had nothing to do with the drums, so she shouldn’t worry about being recognized. Plus, the number her brother had called on Friday was a New Jersey number, and the voice on the other end of the phone didn’t have the barest hint of a southern accent. Chances were everything would be fine and that there was no connection to her stepfather. But, if she was wrong and word got out that Jesse McTavish’s sister was in New Jersey, she’d be back on the grid.
The best course of action would be to make the delivery and hightail it out of town, but with Jesse running a low fever, he wouldn’t be able to move for at least a couple more days.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she sent out a little prayer. Please don’t let him find out where I am. At least not before she and Jesse had time to disappear.
Again, her belly twisted, but this time, not from fear. There was nothing she wanted more than to settle down. She was tired of hiding, and it was her own damn fault. All this time, and she’d never faced her fears. Never stood up to her stepfather. Instead, she’d run like the scared little rabbit that she was.
Not today.
Next week…probably. She slumped back onto the pillow. Staying in Flemington would have been sweet, but it was only a dream. A far-fetched, out-of-reach dream. Just like her dream of having a man love her.
Someone like Eric.
Grimacing, she squinted then held up her hand to shield her face from the blaring sunlight peeking through the blinds. Tiger nudged her hand with his wet nose.
“Hey, wait a minute.” The bedroom door was wide open. She’d closed it before going to sleep last night. Okay, so she hadn’t locked it, but she’d definitely closed it and remembered the latch clicking into place. Eric wouldn’t have opened the door, so… No. No way. Then again… “Did you open the door?” When she pointed a finger at Tiger’s brown and black muzzle, he woofed, then spun and trotted proudly from the room.
Tess threw back the covers then got up to inspect the door. Scratch marks were visible on the paint adjacent to the outer handle. She stepped into the hallway to find subtle indentations in the paint on the doorframe’s trim. “That’s something you don’t see every day. A dog that can open closed doors.”
As a K-9, Tiger had to be smart, but clearly, he possessed additional, over-the-top skills. Whoever coined the phrase “cat-burglar” had never met Eric’s dog. Hairy Houdini.
Tiger was nowhere in sight. Eric’s door was also cracked, so she assumed he’d also done his Houdini trick on Eric’s door to let himself out.
Sunlight glinted off the row of framed photos on the wall. She’d walked past them before but hadn’t had the opportunity to take a really good look until now. One photo was of Eric and a woman with the same Nordic features. Golden blond hair, clear light blue eyes, and high cheekbones. Judging from the resemblance, this had to be Eric’s sister, or at least a first-cousin.
Another photo was of Eric and three other men, all wearing the same navy blue slacks and light blue collared shirts with embroidered gold patches. Behind them was a large white sign that said FLETC. With their wide grins and arms draped over their shoulders, their camaraderie was obvious.
“That was taken thirteen years ago,” Eric said, and she nearly jumped. She’d been so focused on the photo that she hadn’t heard him come down the hall. “Right before graduation.”
He wore what must be his day-to-day garb—black cargo pants, a black polo shirt, and the Glock holstered on his belt. Normally, there was so much inherent strength and power intrinsically tied to his aura, but in that moment, there was something unexpectedly vulnerable about his bearing. His eyes were sad, the look in them far, far away.
“Graduation from what?” She wrapped her arms around her shoulders, conscious that all she wore was a thigh-length pink cotton nightie with thin spaghetti straps.
“The Federal Law Enforcement Training Center.”
“What’s that?”
“Where most federal agents take their basic training. It’s in Georgia.”
“Are you still in touch with them?”
He didn’t answer right away, then his jaw clenched so tightly she thought it would crack. “They’re dead.”
She gasped, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Veiled anger radiated from his entire body. “Oh, Eric. I’m sorry.” Then it hit her. “The explosion that hurt you… Is that how they died?”
He gave a tight nod. “Yes, but they didn’t just die. They were murdered.”
The rock-hard muscles in his shoulders tensed. His hand nearest the Glock balled into a tight fist.
“Who did this?” she whispered, her heart going out to him in sudden understanding. He’d lived, but his friends hadn’t.
“The man I asked you and Jesse about.” He took a deep inhale then let it out on a growl. “Harley Gant.”
She jerked her hand from his shoulder, automatically taking a step back. No. Her heart began pounding so loudly she was afraid he would hear it. It isn’t possible. In the time it took for one name to be spoken out loud, her circle of life had shrunk to the size of a pea.
Every muscle in her body went numb. Fate was playing a horrible, horrible trick on her.
“H-how do you know who it was?” Please, please tell me he’s wrong or that he’s just grasping at straws. But a man like Eric didn’t grasp at anything. He attacked it with everything he had.
“Two weeks before the explosion,” he began, “the four of us were team leaders on simultaneous search warrants executed at the homes of several of Gant’s followers. We had probable cause to believe they were in possession of old military hand grenades stolen from a storage bunker. We found the grenades and arrested four men. They refused to implicate Gant. They were scared to death of him.”
I can understand exactly what that feels like.
To this day, she still felt his reach, grabbing at her ankles, threatening to kill her and Jesse’s future.
Tears pricked the backs of her eyes.
Like he killed Eric’s friends.
“While we were inside a restaurant, Gant had a device planted under our vehicle. When we came out, they went to the truck, but I stopped about ten feet away to take a call. As soon as Keith turned the key, the truck exploded. When I woke up in the hospital, my boss told me Keith, Jimmy, and Frank were dead.”
His rubbed his forehead with his fingers, as if trying to erase the awful memory of what had happened.
“We were never able to prove it,” he continued, “but all the chatter on the street pointed to Gant. He wanted to take out every agent who was a team leader on those warrants. As soon as I got released from the hospital, I followed the sonofabitch everywhere.” He laughed bitterly. “The ATF was worried I’d get my ass killed, so they force-transferred me to Massachusetts.”
Now, she understood why he’d asked her and Jesse if they knew Gant. Eric wanted revenge, and he’d never stopped thinking about it.
“The only good thing that came of it”—he indicated to where his dog stood at the top of the stairs, wagging his tail, waiting patiently for Eric to feed him breakfast—“was Tiger. To sweeten the transfer, they gave me the choice of any unit I wanted. I chose the K-9 unit, and it was the best decision I ever made. I can’t imagine working with another partner.”
The love and respect he had for Tiger was as obvious as the regard he’d had for his dead friends.
“Did the ATF also force-transfer you from Massachusetts to New Jersey?” she asked.
“No.” He lifted a hand to her face and began rubbing his thumb gently back and forth across her cheekbone, sending exquisite tingles to her skin. “That wasn’t the reason I left.”
Their gazes met and held. The intensity in his beautiful light blue eyes held her captive. Gone was the pain she’d glimpsed moments ago. In its place was something else. Something that made her pulse race.
“Then why did you leave m—” She’d almost said me. Because the moment Andi had given her the news that Eric had picked up and left without
so much as a goodbye… To say she’d been hurt was a gross understatement. She’d been dumped by a guy before, but the pain she’d experienced at Eric’s leaving was sharp and deep, leaving a gaping hole in her world, which was ridiculous, since nothing had ever happened between them. “Massachusetts?” she added quickly.
His gaze dipped to her mouth, his thumb still working its magic on her now-hot, tingling skin. “Partly because I needed a change. Not being able to go after Gant was making me restless.”
She swallowed. “And the other part?”
“Because of this.” Slipping his fingers through her hair, he tugged her closer, tilting her face, and kissed her.
…
He had abso-fucking-lutely no business kissing her again, but he couldn’t stop. Not when he was a lit fuse that no amount of freezing cold water could put out. Not when she felt so good with her slim arms wrapped around his waist and digging her fingers into his back in a way that set every one of his nerve endings on fire.
Holy hell, she tastes good. No, better than good. Like, amazing, freaking good.
Her lips were warm and soft. Sweeter than honey. When he deepened the kiss, she uttered a feminine moan that sent blood surging to his groin, and oh, man. This was what he’d been missing out on. What he’d denied himself.
When he’d admitted his reasons for leaving Springfield, he’d given it to her straight. Gant had been only part of the reason he’d bolted. The other reason was her.
He hadn’t been able to explain it to himself then and he couldn’t fully now, but there was one thing he understood clear as a crystal ball.
Being near her—touching her, kissing her—scares the shit out of me. Because, dammit, I want more. I want it all.
He was terrified of a mere slip of a woman. Even as he thought the words, he kissed her deeper, lowering one hand to cup her shapely buttocks, and the other to curve around her supple breast and rub his thumb over her hardened nipple. As he skimmed his other hand up her side, warmth from her body seeped through the thin cotton nightie.
If he could even call it that.
The second he’d stepped into the hall, he’d done his best not to stare at the way her small, perfect breasts jutted against the thin cotton or how shapely her thighs and calves were. She felt so good in his arms, like she belonged there, and one thought pounded relentlessly in his brain: more.
He wanted to carry her into his bedroom and make love to her all day. Wanted to sink deep inside her tight, wet heat again and again and again…
Tearing his mouth from hers, he pressed kisses on the creamy curve of her neck, using his tongue and lips to gently suck her warm, delicate skin into his mouth. He imagined licking and sucking on other beautiful parts of her body.
More blood blasted to his groin, and the pressure behind his zipper verged on unbearable. Holy, fuck. He’d never wanted someone so much in his entire life.
“Eric,” she gasped, slipping her hands beneath his shirtsleeves to claw at his biceps.
Her nails dug into his flesh. Sparks shot up his neck and out the top of his head. He was harder than a rock and ready to explode.
Groaning, he took her mouth again in a kiss so deep he could taste her yearning, along with his own. The craving built inside him like a geyser about to gush from the earth’s crust. She was so willing and pliant in his arms, as hot for him as he was for her.
I could have her. Just once, to get her out of his system. If that wasn’t enough, he could have a brief fling with her for the time she was there, then call it good. I can’t do that to her. It was wrong on so many levels because she deserved better than being any man’s temporary squeeze. He hadn’t taken advantage of her in Springfield, and he couldn’t do it now.
Drawing on strength he didn’t know he possessed, he lifted his head and set her away from him. His heart raced and he drew in ragged breaths. The look in her eyes nearly destroyed him.
Shock. Confusion. Hurt.
Her chest rose and fell, her pulse beating rapidly at her throat—the same spot he’d had his mouth pressed to only moments ago.
“Get dressed.” The words came out harsh, gravelly, and with more force than intended, but they had to be said.
“Tiger, hier.” He left her standing her in the hallway, fighting every instinct grinding inside him to turn back and kiss her and make love to her until it was time to leave.
You can’t.
Tiger led the way downstairs to the kitchen, stopping at his bowl with expectant, feed-me eyes.
Eric yanked open the refrigerator door and began prepping his dog’s breakfast of chicken and ground beef. Tiger panted, salivating, then licked his lips.
He craved Tess like a dog craved a bone. Nine months later and she still drew him in like nothing he’d ever known. The bond was like iron to a magnet. He wanted her. He’d always wanted her.
And still did.
Chapter Fifteen
“Morning.” Tess smiled as she walked into Jesse’s room, fingering her rose quartz necklace.
“Morning.” He grinned then lowered the volume on the TV. “Are Eric and Tiger here?”
She sat in the chair beside the bed. It was nine a.m., just over twelve hours since his surgery. His eyes were no longer rimmed with pain, although the nurses had told her he was still running a low fever and they planned on keeping him in the hospital until his temperature returned to normal.
“Eric’s outside waiting for Dayne. As for Tiger, I seriously doubt dogs are allowed in a hospital.”
Jesse frowned. “But they’re cops. Both of ’em.” Her brother reached for the cup of water on the table and put the straw to his mouth, taking noisy slurps.
“I don’t know what the rules are, even for K-9s. You’ll see Tiger soon enough.” A spurt of relief shot through her. If her brother was well enough to be thinking about a dog, then she had high hopes his recovery would be quick.
The sooner the better.
After Eric had left her standing in the hallway, more sexually aroused than she’d been in her entire life, she felt like a complete fool.
The man was confusing as hell. He’d thrust her from him, and the look on his face had been one of utter disgust. Her mistake, one she wouldn’t make again. Besides, given what he’d told her about his friends’ murders, he’d kick her to the curb if he knew the insidious depths of what she was hiding.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she began, knowing her brother wouldn’t like what she was about to say. “I’m doing the controlled delivery in your place.”
Jesse released the straw from his mouth. “What? No.”
“Yes, I am,” she insisted, thinking briefly that her brother’s reaction had parroted Eric’s verbatim. “You told these people you’d make the delivery today, and we can’t put them off any longer. It’s my decision, and Eric agrees it’s the only way to make this happen, and the only way to fulfill your promise to the prosecutor. You’re in no shape to do it, so I’m doing it for you.”
“I dunno about this.” He shook his head. “It could be dangerous.”
“You know I’ll be careful.” She reached over and squeezed her brother’s hand. “Eric has a plan. He’ll explain more when he gets here.”
Scrabbling claws came to her ears, and a moment later, Tiger trotted into the room, followed by Eric.
“How you doing, kid?” He set a few magazines on the table.
“Better now.” Jesse’s eyes lit with excitement as Tiger neared the bed, and Tess was grateful for the diversion. Her brother tried sitting up, then grimaced and eased back against the mattress. “Thanks for bringin’ him.”
“You’re welcome. Brought you some K-9 magazines.” He nodded to the table.
“Cool, thanks.” Ignoring the magazines, Jesse waved Tiger closer to the bed so he could pet him. The dog’s tail whipped back and forth, smacking against the side of the bed.
The plan had been not to look at Eric any more than necessary, but his thoughtful gesture at bringing Tiger and
the magazines tugged at her heart. When she nodded her thanks, the look he returned was cool and impassive.
Try not to think about him. Or his bone-melting kisses that made her hotter than a blister bug in an Alabama pepper patch.
Great. Alabama. Talk about a sobering reality check.
She pushed a button on the bed’s remote, raising the mattress so Jesse could sit up more comfortably. She gave Tiger a hearty scrubbing behind the ears, and in return he bestowed a lick on the back of her hand. “How did you get him past the nurse’s station?”
“It wasn’t a problem.” Eric sat on a corner of the mattress at the foot of the bed. “Even if Tiger wasn’t my partner, this hospital has an established pet therapy program.”
Tiger rose on his hind legs to rest his front paws gingerly on the bed beside Jesse, as if he inherently sensed her brother’s fragile condition and didn’t want to cause him any discomfort. He rested his muzzle on the mattress, allowing her brother to pet his ears and head.
She ran her hand along Tiger’s back, feeling the dog’s muscles bunch beneath her fingers. “It’s amazing how they know when someone is in pain.”
Jesse managed to shift slightly on his side to face Tiger. The dog stretched closer and landed several light licks on her brother’s face. “Do you think I could ever be a K-9 cop?” He looked hopefully at Eric.
Eric hesitated before answering. “Maybe. Some day.”
Meaning, if her brother didn’t wind up with a criminal conviction that would sully his record and follow him for the rest of his life.
When Eric’s gaze flicked briefly to hers, it’d softened, making her heart yearn for something that could never be. Heat crept to her neck and face, reminding her of the way her body temperature had soared the minute his lips had melded to hers.
She quickly looked away to find her brother watching her oddly. He knows. Jesse might be ten years her junior, but he’d always picked up on her feelings, and it was obvious to him that something had happened between her and Eric, even if he didn’t know exactly what.
Luckily, Eric had spent most of the drive to the hospital on the phone with his boss, going over last-minute details for the controlled delivery, so she’d been spared any awkward conversation about their aborted hallway encounter. Their hotter than hell hallway encounter.