Carrie Weaver - Count on a Cop

by Secrets in Texas

  Her eyes burned. She blinked back moisture, nodding. “I guess so.”

  “I know so.” He kissed away the stray tear that managed to escape and trickle down her cheek. His touch was tender, right. Making love with him seemed inevitable. How had she ever fooled herself into thinking otherwise?

  “Matthew, you know when I asked you about condoms the other night?”

  “Yes?”

  “It wasn’t just idle curiosity.”

  He hesitated. “I don’t know what to say, Angelina. I’ve waited for you to realize how good we could be together. But the next move has to be yours.”

  She stood, holding out her hand.

  He glanced at her hand, then her eyes.

  She hoped he could tell how much this meant to her. How much she wanted it to happen for the right reasons. Even if she wasn’t sure where love fit into the equation.

  “Talk to me, Angel. Tell me what’s going on in your head.” His voice was low. “I can’t accept your invitation unless I know why you’ve changed your mind.”

  Angel made a noise of frustration low in her throat. This was hard enough as it was without Matthew pushing for verbal intimacy, too.

  “Tell me, Angelina.” This time it was a plea.

  “I trust you. I feel close to you. I think maybe I can make love with you the way I made love before I became afraid.”

  He studied her face, tracing the line of her jaw with his fingers. “But you don’t love me? Even a little?”

  “I don’t know.” The words were wrenched from her. She didn’t want to hurt him but couldn’t give him the reassurance he needed.

  Nodding slowly, he placed his hand in hers. “That will have to be enough. But first, I want you to know I’m falling in love with you.”

  Angel’s instinct was to drop his hand and run from the room. But Matthew held her fast. His gaze locked with hers. “It’s okay, Angel. I learned long ago life isn’t perfect. And sometimes we have to accept the small unexpected gifts along the way.”

  Gratitude lifted her spirits. It would be okay. Matthew understood and wanted her anyway.

  She tugged on his hand.

  He hesitated, then stood. “Where’re we going?”

  Closing the distance between them, Angel kissed him. “To my bed. Where there’s no dishonesty or fakery allowed. I refuse to make love with you for the first time in a bed where we’ve been playacting for weeks.”

  Angel led him to the pallet on the floor. Dropping his hand, she grasped the hem of her ugly cotton nightgown and drew it over her head. She stood before him, waiting.

  His eyes grew dark as his gaze roamed over her body. “Oh, Angelina, you are more beautiful than I dreamed.”

  “Thank you.” What a lame thing to say. But he didn’t seem to expect sparkling conversation.

  Matthew traced the curve of her hip with his fingertips, until he met the elastic band of her cotton panties. “Mind if I remove these?”

  “Um, no. No, I don’t mind, I mean.”

  He slipped her panties to the floor. She hesitated, then stepped out of them.

  “Are you sure you want to go through with this? You can change your mind, you know.”

  “No,” she assured him. “I need you, Matt. I trust you more than I’ve trusted anyone in a long time. Please, do this for me?”

  His smile was slow and sexy. “Of course. I’d do anything for you.”

  It was the kind of sweeping declaration men made when they wanted to get laid. But with Matthew, she never doubted his sincerity.

  “Matthew,” she murmured.

  He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. She could feel his heart thudding beneath her palm. Could feel his erection pressed against her belly.

  A responding warmth flooded through her.

  He kissed her with a bone-melting passion. Sealing her to him as surely as if they’d exchanged vows of undying love. Through the haze Angel wondered how he would have kissed her if she’d told him she loved him. Because it didn’t seem possible a kiss could get better than this.

  She lost herself to emotion, and fragments of memories flashed through her. Every heartfelt, honest kiss she’d received. And that was the difference between Matthew’s kisses and Kent’s. Kent’s had been window dressing, masking his lies and twisting his intent. Matthew’s were as clean and honest and sensual as his soul.

  Sighing, she pressed against him, needing to get closer. His clothing was an unnecessary impediment.

  Angel pulled back, placing her finger against his lips. “Shh. This will only take a second.”

  With surety of purpose, she unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it onto the straight-backed chair. Then Matthew got into the spirit of things and removed his pants.

  “Condoms?” she asked.

  “Suitcase.” He pulled his luggage from the closet, unzipping two pockets before he found his travel kit. He withdrew several packets and returned to her side.

  Pressing them into her hand, he said, “For you.”

  “Thanks, Matt. But I think you might benefit from them as much as me.”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Creating a child with you would be a blessing.”

  Angel raised her hand, palm outward. “Please don’t complicate this. Let’s just enjoy each other without a lot of dreams and promises.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “It is.” She knelt on the blankets, extending her hand to him. “Join me?”

  “Of course. You don’t know how long I’ve waited.” His voice was hoarse.

  He knelt next to her. Gathering her in his arms, he settled her against the pillows, his body lightly covering hers. “You’re sure this will be comfortable enough for you?”

  “Of course.” Laughter bubbled up inside her. “Because I’m going to be on top.”

  Matthew raised an eyebrow. Then deftly rolled, bringing her with him so she was on top. He settled her against his erection. “I told you I’d do anything for you.”

  “So you did, Matt. So you did.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  A FEW DAYS LATER, the sun warmed Angel through her cotton dress as she checked tomato plants for suckers and hornworms. She supposed she ought to be grateful polyester wasn’t the preferred fabric for the well-dressed polygamist woman or she would have boiled in her own perspiration. Definitely not the way she wanted to receive her husband when he returned home for lunch. Because they were getting very good at stealing odd moments for hot, quick sex. And then at night making slow, sweet love as they rocked the bed in earnest.

  Ruth had run complaining to Eleanor again. But Eleanor had simply handed the girl some foam earplugs and told her to read her Bible if she couldn’t sleep.

  Angel’s smile of satisfaction faded as she spied another pest.

  “Yuck.” She pulled a fat green caterpillar from one of the robust plants.

  Glancing around, Angel was disappointed to find that Eleanor was too far away to assist in the execution.

  Angel placed the caterpillar on the hard-packed walkway and prepared herself to do what was necessary. She raised her foot, hesitated, then lowered it to the ground. The pest scooted toward the safety of the plants.

  She picked it up and again placed it in the middle of the path, giving herself a mental pep talk. You can do this. You’ve been trained to kill, swiftly and without mercy.

  The caterpillar made for the other side of the path. This time she let it escape.

  “You’re too soft,” a lyrical voice said from behind her.

  Angel turned and shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand. “I’m practicing being merciful.”

  The tall, thin blonde nodded. “I thought as much.” Humor crinkled the corners near her sparkling green eyes, so much like Matthew’s. She extended her hand. “I’m Rebecca, Matthew’s—”

  “Sister.” Angel clasped her hand and squeezed. “I’m so glad to meet you. Matthew’s told me a lot about you.”

/>   “I’ve been absolutely dying to meet you, too. So Matthew is all grown up and a husband now. You must be quite special.”

  “I don’t know about the special part, but your brother and I, um, see eye to eye on many things.”

  Rebecca released Angel’s hand. “That’s good. Consensus is important in a marriage. So is love.”

  “Um, yes.” The conversation was taking an uncomfortable turn. She wasn’t prepared to share sisterly confidences.

  But, studying Rebecca’s expression, Angel thought she detected a trace of wistfulness rather than curiosity. Rebecca covered quickly with a smile. “I can’t stay. I just wanted to introduce myself while I was here. I found I had no decent store-bought tomatoes to slice for Jonathon’s sandwiches and I thought ours might be ripe by now.”

  “I’m glad you did. I know Matthew is eager to see you.”

  Rebecca backed a few paces. “Please tell him I’ll meet with him soon and not to worry.”

  “I will.”

  Rebecca glanced at her watch. “I must hurry.”

  “I saw a few ripe tomatoes on those plants over there.” Angel nodded in the direction of the prime specimens.

  “Thank you.” Matthew’s sister picked several tomatoes. “I look forward to chatting with you again.” Then she hurried away.

  “Yes, when you can stay a little longer,” Angel murmured under her breath.

  A moment later Eleanor’s voice startled her. “Jonathon coddles Rebecca because of her delicate health. He’s…protective. Keeps a close eye on her to make sure she doesn’t overdo it.”

  Angel turned to face her mentor. “I’ve known people who have done horrible things in the name of protecting those they love.”

  Eleanor knelt down and picked several tomatoes. “I don’t believe Jonathon would hurt Rebecca. His love for her is real. But I can see how a woman might come to feel resentful of such intense…devotion.”

  “Some would call it controlling.”

  “Not in our community. Rebecca has a difficult path. I try to watch out for her.”

  Angel thought she understood the subtext that was inherent in many of Eleanor’s conversations. “You told her I’d be here, didn’t you?”

  She shrugged. “I thought it might be good for both of you.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m pleased we were able to meet. But it’s really Matthew who needs to see her.”

  “Unfortunately Matthew spends much of his time with Jonathon and the elders.” Eleanor tucked a strand of gray hair behind her ear. “It’s impossible for me to arrange a meeting for him. But you—that’s another story.”

  “Eleanor, you are a very complex woman.”

  “Not as complex as you think. But loyal to those I love—as long as they don’t betray me.” She bent down and plucked a caterpillar from its leafy hiding place, dispatching it with efficiency. “Perhaps you can harvest something nice for supper?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Angel responded quietly. Had Eleanor somehow guessed at Angel’s true reason for being at Zion’s Gate? Shaking her head, Angel dismissed the thought. Eleanor was still her champion in many ways. No, it seemed there might be someone else who had betrayed the woman and needed to be squashed like a bug.

  Angel mulled over the enigma that was Eleanor while she harvested okra and put the odd-looking vegetable in her basket. By arranging the meeting with Rebecca, Eleanor had defied Jonathon’s express wishes. Yet she stressed she was loyal to those she loved.

  Could Jonathon have betrayed Eleanor in a way more heinous than sleeping with a multitude of other women? Or maybe Eleanor was finally seeing him for the evil tyrant he was.

  TIRED OF PACING THE room, Matthew sat on the bed waiting for Angel to get out of the shower. He might have joined her at another time. But not tonight.

  Jonathon had made it impossible for Matthew to leave at lunch today, so he’d barely had a chance to talk to Angel other than receiving a whispered message that she’d met Rebecca.

  Angel exited the bathroom clad in a robe and toweling her hair. Loose, her hair was a vibrant mass of tangled waves. She was the most beautiful, passionate woman he’d ever met. How he hated seeing her change into the demure Zion’s Gate wife, donning shapeless dresses and restraining her glorious hair in braids. Worse yet was watching her pile the braids on top of her head, pinning them so tightly it had to hurt.

  But she’d learned to look like a proper Zion’s Gate bride. Sometimes she did it so well it was eerie. Then he’d see the mischief lurking in her eyes and know his uncle and the elders would never control her spirit.

  Angel walked past him and propped her foot on the chair. Her robe gaped open as she applied lotion to her long golden legs. How was he supposed to concentrate with that temptation in his face? He forced himself to focus.

  “Tell me about Rebecca.” His voice was husky.

  Angel went to the bathroom and retrieved a wide-tooth comb. Drawing it through her hair, she said, “Rebecca looks a lot like you. Same eyes, same smile. I imagine the same dry sense of humor, though I didn’t get her to talk long enough to know for sure.”

  “Is she well? Happy? Will I see her soon?”

  Perching on the bed, Angel was unusually solemn. “She impressed me as a woman who is being controlled in an unhealthy manner. She wouldn’t stay past a couple minutes and made up an excuse for being in the garden—I imagine in case Jonathon finds out she was there. But she wanted me to deliver a message to you. I was supposed to tell you there’s no reason for you to worry and she’ll meet with you soon.”

  “That’s it?” His frustration rose. To be so close to his sister and not be able to contact her was making him edgy.

  “That’s all.” Angel hesitated. “I got the impression she took a risk to come meet me. And that Eleanor took a risk arranging it.”

  “Why? Was it something she said?”

  “No, she didn’t say anything out of the ordinary.”

  “You’re holding something back. What is it?”

  Angel wished she could simply ignore Matthew’s question. He was too damn perceptive. Her heart ached at what she was about to tell him and she would have given almost anything to be able to lie. But their relationship was based on a foundation of trust, fragile though it was. So fragile that she felt she had to uphold the tenet, even if it meant hurting the man she deeply cared about.

  Taking a deep breath, she said, “Rebecca reminded me of how I was with Kent. The detailed way she orchestrated the trip. How she kept looking over her shoulder. And kept a close eye on her watch.”

  “There could be another explanation.”

  “It’s my gut feeling she’s been abused. I could be wrong—usually I’m not. The vibes I’m getting are those of a woman afraid for her physical safety. Or afraid for the safety of her children.”

  The color drained from his face. He sat down. “I was hoping that, despite my doubts about the man, Jonathon had been good to my sister. Because all these years I’ve been afraid Rebecca sacrificed herself so my mother could be free.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was the only one supposed to leave. Like a lot of the guys my age, the plan was just to cut me loose. My mother was expected to resign herself to never seeing me again.”

  “Like Eleanor.”

  He nodded and stood, pacing. “But my mother was concerned. She’d heard stories of kids coming to a bad end trying to make it in a world they didn’t have the skills to survive in. My mother met with Jonathon. They had a huge argument. I couldn’t hear all that was said, only the end. Jonathon raised his voice and told my mother he wouldn’t allow her to leave Zion’s Gate.”

  Angel went to Matthew, touched his arm, trying to remind him he no longer had to carry this burden alone. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. My mother told him if he didn’t let her go with me, she would tell.”

  “Tell what?”

  “I never found out. I’ve always suspected Jonathon was involved in my father’s
death and my mother had evidence. Jonathon told her she would never have the opportunity to tell.”

  Swallowing hard, Angel fought a wave of nausea. Jonathon’s words were eerily reminiscent of the words Kent had used with her. The threat was obvious.

  “Yet he changed his mind?”

  “That’s what doesn’t make sense. My mother came to me later that night and told me to grab my things, we were leaving. I never saw my sister again. My mother said Rebecca refused to go with us.”

  “Rebecca married Jonathon?”

  “Yes, immediately after we left… I have to find her, Angel. I have to talk to Rebecca.” There was a desperation in his voice she’d never heard before.

  “I know, Matt. But Rebecca said she would see you soon.”

  “That’s not good enough. For all we know, she was stalling, trying to smooth things over.”

  That was exactly Angel’s impression. “Weren’t you the one who said we should be cautious? I’m getting more freedom, you’re allowed into town for the farmer’s market. We don’t want to jeopardize the rapport we’ve built.”

  “Rapport, my ass.”

  Matthew’s language confirmed Zion’s Gate was taking a heavy toll on him. He was desperate to find his sister. And desperate men often ended up dead men in the world of undercover.

  She placed her palms on either side of his face. “Matt, I know you’re frustrated. We’ll find her. You have my promise. Just don’t do something foolish.”

  “I may not be in law enforcement, but I assure you I’m no fool.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way. All I’m saying is we’re in this together. Don’t shut me out. If you want to search, we’ll search. Together.”

  He held her gaze. Grasping her hand in his, he kissed her palm, his lips warm and alive. God, it was so very important she keep him alive. Because she couldn’t handle losing him.

  “Thank you, Angelina,” he murmured. “We’ll search tonight.”

  And they did. But it was nearly a repeat of the first time they’d investigated the meeting hall. Same black Humvee with its lights off, same men, same boxes. Only this time Angel and Matthew were better prepared and didn’t raise an alarm. They even slipped back into the house without waking Eleanor.