“I’d rather risk my life. I’d rather live! This isn’t living.”
“Give it a chance.”
“Let me be a decoy,” she said in a rush, inspired. “Dangle me in front of Carranza and I’ll help you bring him in.”
Shannon’s laughter was like tinkling bells. “I’m sorry, Isabel. You’re a civilian. It can’t be done.”
“Then deputize me. That can be done. According to my research, the U.S. Marshals are the only law enforcement team that holds the capability.”
She clucked her tongue. “It’s an archaic tactic from the Old West, rarely used nowadays. We don’t endanger witnesses—we protect them. If you’d like to become a deputy marshal, you’ll have to do it the hard way. Go to college and apply to the academy.”
Isabel didn’t want to be a marshal. She just wanted to be free.
“Can you hang in there for now? I might have some good news for you soon.” “What good news?”
Shannon’s voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “Manuel Carranza was involved in a shoot-out in downtown Tijuana a few days ago. According to reports, he’s been seriously injured. Perhaps fatally.”
Isabel’s heart leaped. “If he dies, can I go home?”
“We would definitely reassess your situation.”
They spoke for a few more moments before hanging up, and Isabel promised not to break her cover. For the time being, she was still Isabella Saunders, boyish pizza waitress from Rancho Mirage, California.
But as she stood by her glitzy tree and looked out the window, watching snowflakes drift down on the gleaming street, she felt like herself again.
Chapter 19
Isabel watched Brandon wade out of the cool blue Pacific, wet suit clinging to his lean body, surfboard tucked under one arm.
She waited by his truck, basking in the warm San Diego sun. Mid-seventies felt like heaven to her after a long December in Kansas City. Her heart raced in anticipation of seeing him again. After arriving this morning, she’d been told which beach he frequented and what type of vehicle he drove.
He didn’t know she was coming. Brandon’s boss was aware of his feelings for Isabel and agreed to keep the surprise.
The surf was high and the form looked fantastic. She’d never been to Sunset Cliffs before and she was eager to dive in. The desire to suit up and paddle out was strong, but not as strong as her need for Brandon.
When he spotted her, he stopped dead in his tracks. Giggling with excitement, she waved both arms over her head. He tossed his surfboard on the ice plant along the path and started running, closing the distance between them in a pulse-pounding minute.
His hair had grown out a little, but the dye hadn’t faded much. The effect was oddly adorable, dark with light roots.
She worried about her own cropped hair as his hungry gaze swept over her, taking in her slim-fitting jeans and snug tank top. She’d worn her most flattering outfit and even put on a bit of makeup. Now she felt paralyzed by self-consciousness.
He cupped her chin with one hand, as if he needed to touch her to make sure she wasn’t a figment of his imagination. “Is it really you?”
She nodded, nibbling her lower lip.
“How did you get here?”
“By plane.”
“To this beach, I mean.”
“I took a taxi from the airport.”
He glanced in the bed of his truck, where her suitcase was sitting. “Did you leave the program?”
“Sort of. I’m supposed to lie low for a while. Carranza died last night.”
“I heard he was in critical condition.”
“Right now they’re evaluating my case, assessing any lingering threats. The man I stabbed made a full recovery, but he’s locked up in Mexico on unrelated charges. The agency is ‘monitoring the situation’ and my release is conditional.”
“On what?”
“I can’t resume my identity as Isabel Sanborn or visit L.A. And I have to stay with an armed deputy for a few weeks.”
“Who?”
She pointed at the center of his chest.
“Me? They released you to my protection?”
Heart racing, she twined her arms around his neck. “How do you feel about having a roommate?”
He just stared at her, speechless.
“I won’t be any trouble,” she promised, studying his face. “I thought I’d sign up for some online college classes. All I need is a computer, a surfboard and you.”
His eyes darkened. “You need me?”
She did him one better. “I love you.”
He backed her up against the passenger door and angled his mouth over hers, giving her the kind of kiss she’d spent two months dreaming about. Hot, demanding, breathless. Her hands slipped over his neoprene wet suit, finding no purchase.
“I love you, too,” he said, breaking the kiss. “So much I didn’t feel alive without you. Every night, I stayed awake, aching for you. Wondering if you were safe. I couldn’t stand not knowing where you were.”
Her chest tightened with emotion. “I was in Kansas City.”
He swore under his breath.
She laughed, resting her forehead on his shoulder. “It wasn’t that bad. I took up running. But the nights … were exactly what you described.”
With a low groan, he bent his head again, brushing his lips over hers. Tasting her, filling her mouth with his tongue. The last kiss was an expression of their torturous time apart. This one was a promise of future pleasure.
“You’re getting me wet,” she said, shivering as salt water soaked into her tank top.
He ran back to retrieve his surfboard and secured it in the bed of the truck, ushering her into the passenger seat. “Do you want to see your mom first?” “I want to go to your place.”
Grinning, he took off his wet suit on the side of the road, keeping a towel around his waist while he tugged on a pair of worn blue jeans and a gray T-shirt. California surfing had its perks. She’d never get tired of watching Brandon change.
“I like your hair, by the way,” he said as he climbed into the driver’s seat.
She smoothed a hand over her head. “Do you?”
“Yeah. It looks sexy.”
Her entire body tingled with warmth. “Thanks. I like yours, too.”
He made a skeptical sound and put the truck into gear, glancing in his rearview mirror. “What are you talking about? My hair looks like crap.”
She smiled, finding him impossibly attractive. “Why’d you keep the color?”
“Because it reminded me of you.”
Tears sprang into her eyes, but they were from a happy place. A well of joy. “I hope I’m not imposing too much by asking to live with you,” she said, twisting her hands in her lap. “It’s just temporary.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can stay as long as you want to. Forever, preferably.”
She looked out at the majestic blue waves, her heart swelling with love for him. At one time, a statement like that would have made her feel closed in. Hearing it now opened up a whole new world. “You might reconsider after I wear out my welcome. Maybe you’ll hate the sounds I make in my sleep.”
“I love the sounds you make in your sleep.”
“You could get annoyed by the way I brush my teeth.”
“Do you do it naked?” “No.”
“That will be a problem then.”
He pulled up to an upscale apartment complex a few miles from the beach. She remained seated, feeling anxious despite his relaxed attitude and easy jokes. “Will you have to go on an assignment soon?”
“I’m on mandatory leave for the next month, so I won’t be going anywhere. They always give you time off when you kill someone.”
Sympathy coursed through her, along with a healthy dose of guilt. She’d attended counseling in Kansas City and the nightmares weren’t as frequent now. Her ear had also healed well and she’d regained a full range of hearing. “Had you done that before?”
“No. I don’t care to repeat the ex
perience, either. But I will if I have to. Sometimes I get dangerous assignments.”
She fell silent for a moment, contemplative. He was warning her that living with him wouldn’t always be easy. There was a drive inside him, pushing him to take risks. But she understood and accepted that tendency, because it was in her nature, too. “Sometimes I surf in dangerous conditions.”
“I’ve noticed,” he said wryly, turning off the engine. He left the driver’s seat and walked around to open the passenger door for her. “As long as you come in when it gets too rough, I can handle that.”
“Will you do the same?” she asked, meeting his sincere blue eyes.
“Yes. I promise.”
Taking a deep breath, she accepted his hand and his word. Leaving his surfboard in the back of the truck, he grabbed her suitcase and they ascended the steps to his second-floor apartment. Her new home.
“What do you think?” he asked, arching a brow.
It was clean, modern, spacious. A little too spare and masculine for her tastes, but she could work with that. “Nice,” she said, smiling.
He cleared his throat, appearing uncertain. “We don’t have to … rush anything. If you want to order some takeout and watch movies, that sounds great to me.”
“Me, too,” she said, brushing past him. “Where’s the bedroom?”
He gestured down the hall, his gaze darkening as she pulled her tank top over her head, letting it fall on the carpet. In the doorway, she paused, stripping off her jeans. He had a big, comfortable-looking bed and a gorgeous ocean view. Tummy fluttering with anticipation, she crawled across the mattress in her underwear. Here, with him, she felt safe, and loved, and free. “It’s perfect,” she said, opening her arms.
A second later, he joined her, and it was perfect. In every way.
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