Going Nowhere: A BAMF Team Novel

by Abbie Zanders

  Absolutely nothing like the bizarre encounter of this morning.

  Not that it made a microgram of difference, I told myself firmly. Because, no matter what my body said, I wasn’t interested.

  The light was blinking on my answering machine, the one that was hooked up to the old-fashioned landline. I had a mobile, but only for emergencies since learning how cell phones can be used as GPS trackers to locate people. Besides Gram, only the hospital had the number of the loft, and like all the utilities, the account was in her name.

  I hoped it wasn’t the hospital calling with bad news. Dylan had been holding his own when I had left, but things could go downhill in a heartbeat.

  I didn’t want to think about the third and worst-case possibility—that Roger had found me and decided to pay me another “visit.” It would follow his pattern. Each of his previous appearances had been heralded by messages. It was becoming increasingly clear he was not going to give up as I had hoped. Unless something drastic happened, I would probably be looking over my shoulder until one of us was dead.

  It was a chilling thought.

  I fingered the small handgun tucked into the waistband at the back of my leathers. The piece provided a small measure of comfort, as did the blade tucked into my boot. Both were precautionary. I hoped I never had to use them, but I was done with feeling helpless.

  Taking a deep, fortifying breath, I pressed the blinking button. A man’s voice carried out of the tiny speakers, but it wasn’t Roger’s. Even on the outdated, poor-quality machine, the sound was deep and sensual, resounding through my nerves like a caress and sending a shiver of arousal right between my legs.

  “Alyx, this is Reid MacIntyre. I’m sorry I startled you earlier and, well, I just wanted to tell you that you make the finest damn cinnamon rolls I’ve ever had. Have a good night.”

  I stared at the phone in shock. Reid MacIntyre? Green Eyes had my number? I was going to give my kibitzing grandmother an earful!

  Another message began, this one from Cupid herself. “Alyx, I’m sorry, dear. I hope you don’t mind that I gave Reid the number. He felt awful for startling you this afternoon and wanted to apologize. Come see me tomorrow morning. We’ll have breakfast together, and you can tell me how Dylan made out.”

  Some of the anger evaporated at the sound of Grace’s voice. My grandmother could be meddlesome, but everything she did, she did out of love. She couldn’t help her matchmaking any more than I could completely squelch my ability to heal and ease through touch.

  As long as I stayed alert and kept my guard up, I would be fine. That didn’t mean I couldn’t indulge in a personal, private fantasy or two.

  On a sudden impulse, I replayed the first message. It sounded even better the second time. And the third time, when I closed my eyes and peeled off my clothes. Undoubtedly, it sounded the best when I slid naked between my fleece sheets, still warm and moist from my shower. That voice, the perfect, masculine cadence of it, was a sensual stroke over my skin, wrapping me in a soothing warmth.

  Like his appearance, his voice had an instant, compelling effect. My body heated, my nipples pebbled. I wanted to close my eyes and purr as I rubbed myself all over him like a great big cat.

  I reached down between my legs, where an ache was slowly building. I could now officially add “getting me wet” to the list of things Green Eyes’ voice could do to me.

  I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I rationalized, even as I promised myself I would delete the message first thing in the morning. It had been a crappy day, and simply listening to his voice was a harmless indulgence, no more scandalous than having a glass of wine or taking a hot bath or reading one of those steamy paranormal romance novels I kept in my nightstand. Nothing would come of it. I was not interested in anything more, not at all. There was no room for a man in my life, not until I cleaned up the mess from my last exercise in poor judgment. Maybe not even then. A man would have to be damn near perfect for me to even consider settling down, and in my experience, perfect men only existed in the pages of books.

  A vision of my grandmother’s neighbor plastered itself against the back of my closed lids, ratcheting up the ache. My fingers swirled faster.

  So what if he was a real-life, flesh and blood person with multi-faceted emerald eyes and a body I could fantasize about for hours? He had an aura of danger around him that made Roger look like a grade school bully in comparison, which was yet another stellar reason to stay as far away from him as possible. The last thing I needed was more trouble.

  It didn’t matter that he was within a hundred yards of me right at that very minute, maybe every bit as naked as I was.

  That thought carried me over the edge. It meant nothing, except that I was exceptionally tired, stressed out, and horny. That last part hadn’t been an issue until Green Eyes decided to show up and shake my hormonal snow globe.

  I drifted off, dreaming of those amazing green eyes and listening to the sound of his voice looping on my machine as I imagined him licking cream cheese icing from my body.

  The next morning, I awoke feeling more rested than I had in a while.

  I didn’t have to go in to the hospital until later, so I took my time getting out of bed. I stuck to my resolution and cleared the messages from my machine, though I might have replayed it once or twice first.

  I brewed coffee in my two-cup machine and did a bit of tidying. When my stomach started growling, I slipped on my black Harley Davidson boots and a fleece hoodie to make the short trip over to Gram’s for a late breakfast.

  “You’re certainly in better spirits this morning,” Grace commented the moment I walked through the door.

  For once, I was glad for the frigid temps. They provided an excellent excuse for the heat rising in my cheeks.

  Yes, I was a grown woman, but there were some things I never ever wanted to discuss with my grandmother.

  “It’s amazing what a solid couple hours of sleep can do,” I told her.

  “Anything else?”

  “No.” I knew by the mischievous twinkle in her eyes she was hoping I would mention Green Eyes’ phone call, but I refused to encourage her. Instead, I brought her up to date on Dylan’s progress. It wasn’t good. While I tried to stay positive, Gram knew me too well to be fooled by false optimism.

  “You’ve done all you can, child,” she said softly.

  “It’s not enough.”

  For the thousandth time, I questioned the gift I had been given. Why allow me to heal some and not others?

  “No,” she agreed. “Sometimes things are meant to be.”

  “That doesn’t make it any easier.” It was never easy. Sitting by, feeling helpless. Knowing there was nothing I could do to stop the progression of the deadly disease. At least I could make it a little easier. I might not be able to cure Dylan’s cancer, but my gift did allow me to ease his pain.

  A sudden knocking interrupted our conversation and drew our attention to the kitchen door. If the looming silhouette in the window didn’t give it away, the sudden, tingly awareness skating along my skin did. Green Eyes.

  Gram got up and opened the door before I had a chance to beat a hasty retreat. I settled for clearing the table and standing at the sink with my back to him, directing all my attention to the serious business of rinsing the breakfast dishes. Or, at least I tried to.

  His presence wrapped around me like a warm blanket, making it impossible to ignore him completely. It kind of pissed me off. There were enough things in my life that I had little or no control over. Generally, my body wasn’t one of them.

  Gram, of course, invited him in and suggested that I pour him a cup of coffee.

  I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I really did love my grandmother and matchmaking was in her DNA.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Quirke,” Green Eyes said in that low, delicious voice, “but I can’t stay. I just stopped by because they’re calling for a Nor’easter in a day or two, and I wondered if there was anything I could pick up for you in the way o
f supplies while I’m in town.”

  “How kind of you,” Gram said with genuine affection. Apparently, Green Eyes’ popularity with women transcended generations, though I was pretty sure Gram was affected differently than I was. At least I hoped so, because ... yeah, awkward.

  I closed my eyes and held my breath as I waited for what I knew was coming next, counting down silently in my mind. Three, two, one ...

  “Now that you mention it, I could use a few things,” she said.

  I withheld my snort. Real subtle, Gram. With the stockpile of dried and homemade canned goods in the pantry, the woman was prepared to ride out the apocalypse.

  Then she turned her traitorous eyes my way, a silent challenge. “Why don’t you ride in with Reid, dear? That is, if he doesn’t mind.”

  It took Green Eyes a moment to answer. Clearly, he was not aware of my grandmother’s predilection toward matchmaking. I almost felt sorry for him. He had no idea what he was up against.

  “Not at all, ma’am.”

  My core clenched without permission. It was the ma’am that did it, spoken in that sexy rumble.

  On top of everything else, the guy had to be polite and respectful, too? Why couldn’t he be a jerk? It would be so much easier to write him off if I could find just one undesirable thing about him.

  “I’m sure Mr. MacIntyre has his own things to do, Gram.”

  “Reid,” he corrected in that deliciously velvet voice of his. “It’s no trouble, and I’d appreciate the company.”

  Double damn. I could not catch a freaking break.

  Delighted by the corner she had now backed me into, Gram twittered, “You two haven’t been properly introduced, have you? Reid, this is my granddaughter, Alyx Laskaris. Alyx, turn around, dear; don’t be shy. Alyx, this is Reid MacIntyre.”

  Reid extended his hand. I didn’t want to take it, but short of being exceptionally rude, I saw no other option.

  His hand was big and strong, and so warm. The contact sent tingles through my entire body, just as it had yesterday, except yesterday, I had been wearing gloves. Skin to skin contact was far more potent. Some of those earlier tingles of awareness I’d been feeling rocketed into full-on electrical shocks, centered primarily in my girly parts.

  Don’t look in his eyes. Don’t look in his eyes.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Alyx.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I looked, and damn, they were even greener than they were yesterday. Clearer. More intense. Hungry.

  I felt the heated flush that started down below, rising into my neck.

  I yanked my hand away, earning myself a slightly lifted brow. I could have sworn his nostrils flared, too.

  Gram, of course, was thrilled with the exchange. “Excellent! Let me just give you a list ...”

  Fifteen minutes later, we were driving in silence toward the center of town. I positioned myself as far away from him as physically possible in the cab of his Jeep, plastering myself against the passenger door. It didn’t do much good. His scent, fresh and dark, filled the small space, capturing my senses, intoxicating me.

  He, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be affected by me at all. Since leaving Gram’s, he hadn’t spared me a single glance.

  I relaxed slightly. Maybe this weird vibe was just on my end. Other than a phoned apology and a perfectly platonic handshake, Reid hadn’t shown any signs of interest. Well, there was that panty-melting look in his eyes back in Gram’s kitchen, but that might have been an optical illusion caused by the hormonal uprising his presence incited.

  The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. Gram had put him on the spot, and just like my good manners demanded I accept the hand he had offered, his good manners wouldn’t allow him to be rude. With that body, an aura of danger, and those incredible eyes, he didn’t need any help in obtaining female companionship.

  Of course Gram would argue that “any woman” wasn’t the same as “the right woman,” and I would have to agree.

  Before the whole mess with Roger, I had gone on my fair share of dates. Nearly all of them had been positive experiences. But never once had I thought I’d found Mr. Right. In fact, I had never found anyone who I’d had the same instant, powerful attraction to as Green Eyes.

  I shut those thoughts down pronto. They weren’t helpful, and if I had any hope of getting through the next couple hours without making a huge fool of myself, I had to get a grip.

  The town proper wasn’t very big, no more than a couple of blocks in any direction. It was where all the businesses were conveniently located to provide whatever goods and services the locals might need.

  Reid pulled into one of the few open, diagonal spots in front of the hardware store. “I can pick up the ice melt Grace wanted if you want to get started on the grocery list.”

  I looked down the street, frowning when I saw the mass of cars in the parking lot of Flannery’s Fine Foods. “Why is it everyone gets a craving for French toast whenever a storm approaches?” I muttered aloud.

  “Excuse me?”

  “French toast. Milk, eggs, and bread.”

  His lips quirked, sending my heart into flutters. I really wished he wouldn’t do that. They were some fine male lips.

  “Can I pick anything up for you?” I asked, looking back down the street.

  “This shouldn’t take me long. How about I just meet you in there?”

  “All right.” I shrugged and turned to go.

  The store was packed with panicking people. Did they really not have enough food to last a day or two? Now the toilet paper, I understood, but who needed six half-gallons of ice cream to weather out a storm?

  I hadn’t made it halfway through the store before Reid appeared, his arms filled with wrapped packages from the meat department. “May I?” he asked, tilting his head toward the few meager selections in my cart: butter, milk, eggs, and some organic produce that would make a fine stew.

  “Sure.”

  He dumped his selections then took off again, returning multiple times with his arms full. By the time we reached the checkout, the cart was close to overflowing.

  “Expecting company?” I asked.

  He looked at me in confusion. “No. Why?”

  “That’s a lot of food for one person.”

  He shrugged. “I’m a big guy.”

  I wasn’t touching that one with a ten-foot pole.

  The trip home was just as quiet as the one into town. Reid insisted on helping me carry my meager purchases into Gram’s house. I admit, I didn’t have as much of a problem with his chivalry as I might have had earlier, now that I was convinced he had no interest in me whatsoever. Then he thanked me for the pleasure of my company—his words—and left without another word.

  Despite the need to keep my rampant hormones on a tight leash, the afternoon had been a pleasant surprise. No inane conversation. No intrusive questions. No lines of bullshit or crass innuendos. Reid had been a perfect gentleman—opening doors, carrying bags, even reaching for items on the higher shelves for me.

  If I had any complaint at all, it would be that he did seem to attract a lot of female attention. No matter where we went, he drew the appreciative stares of women, some of whom turned their eyes to me, their lust tinged with either envy or malice, sometimes both. I could understand it, even empathize, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I firmly told myself it was simply irritation and not the possessive jealousy that it felt like, because that would be just ridiculous. Reid wasn’t mine, and I didn’t want him.

  I did appreciate, however, that Reid didn’t seem to notice them at all.

  Chapter Four

  Reid

  I wasn’t prepared for the conflicting emotions I felt after that quick supply run into town. I was a single-minded individual. I knew what I had to do, and I got it done. No questions, no doubts. Simple and effective.

  There was nothing simple about Alyx Laskaris.

  Case in point: I felt both relieved and worried as I watched Alyx leave for work l
ater that afternoon. On one hand, I was relieved that she was gone, because knowing she was physically within a hundred yards of where I now stood was torture. Leaving her in Grace’s kitchen had taken a huge amount of willpower. My wolf had wanted to throw her over my shoulder and carry her back with me. To appease my beast, I’d kept the scarf she had left in the Jeep. That would be the same scarf I now buried my face into, selfishly and foolishly inhaling her sweet, mouthwatering scent.

  On the other hand, I was also worried because she was not physically within a hundred yards of me. Out of sight of my watchful eyes, out of my immediate protection.

  That was another thing—this unfamiliar, feral, clawing possessiveness. I told myself it meant nothing; protecting others was part of my DNA. Besides, I wasn’t wired to be idle. With this forced downtime, it was only natural I would create a mission for myself, right? Alyx just happened to have the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time to wind up in my sights.

  My wolf called bullshit, insisting she was in exactly the right place at exactly the right time, because she was mine.

  I told my wolf to shut the fuck up. There was more to the situation than that. There had to be.

  It was clear to me that Alyx and her grandmother were close, but Alyx wasn’t living over Grace’s garage because Nowhere was the place to be. I recognized someone trying to keep a low profile when I saw her. Something, or more likely someone, had Alyx spooked, and Grace was worried enough to try to enlist my help.

  Like I said, I had nothing better to do. I would look into things because I could, not because of what my wolf believed. Even if he was right and Alyx was my mate, I couldn’t do anything about it. The life I led was not conducive to binding myself to anyone, and I refused to allow myself or anyone else to become a target simply because my animal wanted her.

  Glad that I had settled that, I ignored my sulking wolf and opted to continue my objective research.

  Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since I’d called in a couple of favors. More than enough time to compile intel on a regular citizen like my neighbor’s granddaughter.