by Nicole Helm
“You’re too...” He trailed off.
When he never finished his sentence, she cupped his face, holding him there, a tiny inch away from her mouth. “I’m just me,” she whispered before kissing him, something soft and sweet instead of intense and desperate.
That softness lingered, all those furtive glances they’d hidden over months of being under the same roof. All the hesitant touches immediately jerked away from. Longing glances behind each other’s backs.
It had seemed so necessary then, and now it was stupid to have wasted all that time. Time they could have been together—getting to know each other, touching each other. And they hadn’t only because she’d been certain he was too good and honorable to even look at her twice, and he’d been convinced she was too...something.
But they were just them, and for a little while they could be together. She tugged at his T-shirt, trying to pull it off him without hurting him. Carefully, she rid him of the fabric and discarded it on the other side of the bed.
His calloused hands slid under her shirt, the rough texture of his palms scraping against her sides and sending a bolt of anticipation through her. He lifted her shirt off her and dropped it.
“I closed the door, but Seth’s asleep in his crib. We have to be quiet,” she whispered.
He exhaled, something close to a laugh. “You think?” His breath fluttered across her cheek, his hands tracing every curve and dip of her body, cupping her breasts.
She groaned, trying to arch against him, bring him closer.
“Shh,” he murmured into her ear, something like laughter in his voice.
Her heart squeezed painfully, because she wanted all of Noah’s smiles and all of Noah’s laughter and she was putting all of that in jeopardy. He was too noble, too sure to ever forgive her for going out on her own.
But that didn’t change the fact that it needed to be done.
She trailed her hands across the firm muscles of his abdomen, sighing happily as she reached the waistband of his shorts. She moved to pull them down and off, give her full access to him, but he hissed out a breath and Addie winced, pulling away from him.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” No matter how much she wanted this, the thought of him in pain—
“I’ll live. Keep touching me, I’ll live.”
She might have argued with him if his hands weren’t on her. Tracing, stroking, pulling responses out of her body she didn’t know were possible. She felt as though her skin were humming with vibrations, as though the room were filled with sparkling light instead of pitch-black.
They managed to remove the rest of each other’s clothes without causing Noah any more pain—at least that he showed. Addie straddled his big, broad body, her heart beating in overtime, her core pulsing with need and something deeper in her soul knowing this was something meant. Elemental.
Noah was hers, and maybe she even loved him. She’d probably never get to explore that, but at least she got to explore this. Something she’d never felt, certainly not with this bone-deep certainty it was right. They were right.
She kissed him as he entered her, a long, slow slide of perfect belonging. His arms held her close and tight, and when he moved inside her, she sighed against his mouth and he sighed against hers.
He took her as though he was studying every exhale, every sigh, and making sure she did it again. And again, and again, with a kind of concentration and care no one had ever shown her. Until she was nothing but shaking pleasure, dying for that fall over into release.
“Noah.”
“Addie.”
It was the way he said her name, low and dark, full of awe, that propelled her over that sparkling edge of wonder. Noah pushed deep and held her tight and they lay there for who knew how long.
It didn’t matter, because she wanted time to stop. Here. Right here.
But life didn’t work that way. She slid off him, curling up into his good side. He murmured something, but she couldn’t make it out.
“Sleep,” she whispered, brushing a kiss below his ear.
“You, too,” he murmured, holding her close.
She should. Sleep and rest, because tomorrow she would have to face a million hard things she’d been running from for too long.
So she gave herself this comfort. Noah’s arms around her, his heart beating against hers. The fact that he’d been as desperate for her as she’d been for him, and out of something horrible that may change her life forever, at least she’d gotten this little slice of rightness.
It would give her strength, and it would give her purpose, and tomorrow she would find a way to end this all.
* * *
NOAH AWOKE TO the sound of a woman’s voice. But it was all wrong. It wasn’t Addie.
He opened his eyes, glancing at the woman sitting next to him on his bed.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he grumbled, his voice sleep-rusted and scathing against his dry throat. His body ached, just ached, and yet there was something underneath all that ache. A bone-deep satisfaction.
Except Addie wasn’t here, and his cousin was.
“Good morning to you, too, sunshine,” Vanessa offered cheerfully, bouncing Seth in her lap. “I don’t know what the hell you do with these things, but he’s a pretty cute kid.”
“Where’s Addie?”
“Can you hold him, or will that hurt your stitches?”
“Where the hell is Addie?”
Vanessa sighed gustily. “I know you’ve been shot and all, but there’s no need to be so grumpy and demanding.”
“Don’t make me ask again, or you will regret ever stepping foot in this cabin.”
Vanessa raised an eyebrow, and it was the kind of warning he should probably heed, but panic thrummed through his body, making it impossible to heed anyone’s warning.
“You’re hurt, so I’ll give you a pass on that, Noah, but don’t ever speak to me that way.”
He struggled to get himself into a sitting position.
“Geez, you really are hurt.” She wrinkled her nose. “Please tell me you’re not naked under there.”
He glared at her as Seth made a nosedive for him. With a wince, Noah caught the boy. Poor kid was too cooped up. He needed to crawl around and move, but the cabin wasn’t the place for it.
And where the hell is Addie?
“I am not naked.” At some point he’d pulled his boxers back on last night.
Vanessa clucked her tongue and shook her head. “First Grady. Now you.”
“Now me what?”
“A Delaney, Noah. Really?”
“She’s not a... Not...really. Where is she?”
“Well, she and Grady went somewhere.”
“Where?” he growled.
“Sworn to secrecy, sorry.”
The only thing that kept Noah’s temper on a leash was the fact that if he started yelling at Vanessa, he’d likely scare Seth. And then Vanessa would make him pay for the yelling later. He took a deep breath, doing everything in his power to keep his anger from bubbling out of control.
“I know you don’t like this, but you’re hurt, and Addie had an idea and... Look, Grady promised he and Laurel would keep her safe. Ty’s out seeing if he can get a truck up here to take you to the doctor. We’re on baby patrol. It isn’t so bad.”
She’d done it anyway. After last night, after saying they’d talk about it, she’d gone and done some stupid, dangerous thing anyway. “She’s going to put herself in harm’s way. How is that not bad?”
“She’s the one who brought this mob mess to your doorstep, Noah. You’d be at your ranch, unharmed, if it weren’t for her.”
“She’s not responsible for that. The man who’s after her is.”
“A man she had a kid with, Noah.”
Slowly, because he couldn’t believe Vanessa of all peop
le would say that, he turned his head to face her. “You didn’t just say that.”
Vanessa shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest, adopting that pissed-off-at-the-world posture that seemed to propel her through life. “Well, it’s true. You’re paying because of the choices she made to get involved with someone awful. And yeah, the awful guy is at fault, but that...” She looked away, and Noah noticed a flicker of vulnerability he understood only because he’d once saved her from the abuses of his father.
“You’re hurt,” she said forcefully. “I get to be a little put out about my cousin being hurt.”
He softened, only a fraction. “She’s been hurt, too. You should be able to find some sympathy. You of all people.”
Whatever vulnerability that had been evident in the cast of her mouth disappeared into hard-edged anger. “Then you need to understand that sometimes, not always but sometimes, people need to fight their own battles. Without you.”
Which hit far too many insecurities of his own. He looked down at Seth, who was happily pulling at his chest hair. It might sting when he gave a strand a good tug, but it had nothing on knowing Addie was out there trying to fight her own battles.
She’d done that enough and he’d promised her no more, they were in this together, and she’d just ignored it. “I should have known what that was,” he muttered.
“What what was?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” But it had been a goodbye, plain and simple. And worse, so much worse, she’d chained him here under a responsibility he couldn’t ignore. He scooted out of bed, hefting Seth onto his good side. “He needs to eat.”
“No!” Seth tugged at his hair, making a sound Noah had a sneaking suspicion was his attempt at the word hat.
Noah strode out into the living room, Vanessa at his heels. Ty pushed in the door at the same moment, grim-faced and blank-eyed.
“We can’t get out quite yet.”
“How’d you stab me in the back and get Addie out of here?”
“They took the horses,” Ty said with a shrug, clearly not worried about the backstabbing.
Figured.
“Give me your hat,” he demanded, holding out his hand to Ty.
Ty cocked his head, but handed the Stetson over after shaking some of the snow off it. Noah handed it to Seth, who squealed happily.
“If anything happens to her,” Noah said, deadly calm, because he didn’t have any other choice of what to be—he had to protect Seth—“God help all of you.” With that he strode into the kitchen to get Seth some food.
Chapter Thirteen
Addie sat in the Carson ranch house for the third boring, alone day in a row and tried not to cry. None of this was going like it was supposed to.
The plan had been to install her at the Carson Ranch, making it look like she had Seth with her, and wait for the next ambush. They’d moved her, faked Seth’s presence and acted as though they were trying to be sneaky while laying all sorts of clues that this is where they were.
But it had been three days. No matter how often she talked to Laurel on the phone about how sure Addie was that having Grady or one of the sheriff’s deputies be a lookout was clearly keeping Peter away, Laurel insisted they keep going without Addie attempting to make personal contact with Peter.
Better to wait him out, Laurel insisted. Let him feel like he was the one making the moves, not being lured.
Addie was learning that arguing with Laurel was absolutely pointless. The woman would do whatever she wanted, whatever she thought was best. Noah was like that. Grady, too. All the Carsons and all the Delaneys so sure they knew what was best and right.
Her included. She smiled a little at the thought. She was here because she’d been certain her being bait was the only way. She hadn’t let Noah stop her.
But thinking about Noah only hurt. She missed him. She missed Seth like an open, aching wound. All there was to do in the silence of the Carson ranch house was miss them and worry about them and think about how mad Noah must be at her. If she managed to get over that she could only fret over the way it kept snowing and snowing and snowing.
She stared at her phone, trying to talk herself out of the inevitable panic call to Laurel. But she couldn’t do it. This couldn’t keep going. How long would she survive this endless, crazy-making waiting?
What awful things was Peter planning? He’d already proved he could wait as long as he pleased. He’d let her get settled here, hadn’t he? Oh, she was now certain he was behind the poison and the fence-breaking. Little hints he was on the way, but enough doubt to cause her to wonder and worry, then talk herself out of it and settle in. Something like psychological warfare, and Peter was a pro.
She hit Call on Laurel’s number in her phone, determined to talk Laurel out of the lookouts. She had to do this alone, without help or watchdogs. Maybe if she was persistent enough with Laurel—
“Addie, if you’re calling me to tell me you can’t do this—”
“I can’t do this.”
Laurel sighed. “Look, we’ve got some stuff brewing.”
Addie straightened in her seat at the kitchen table. Noah and Seth missing like limbs she didn’t know what to do without. “What does that mean?”
“Give me a sec.”
Addie waited, trying not to think too hard about what brewing might mean.
“There. Some privacy. Listen, we’ve had five brand-new visitors to Bent in the past three days. That never happens. Now, none of them match the FBI’s description of Peter, but that doesn’t mean they don’t work for him.”
“I can’t wait around for Peter if he’s just going to send people. Maybe I should go to Bost—”
“You’re not going anywhere.” Laurel said it with the same kind of finality Noah had said it with days before. Addie hadn’t listened to him. Why should she listen to Laurel?
“But Peter hasn’t left Boston.” If she went there. If she confronted him... She might die, sure, but maybe...
“According to the FBI, but who knows what they know.”
“Laurel, they’re the FBI. Maybe if I worked with them—”
“They clearly don’t care enough. When I spoke with an agent all he could talk about was some other organized crime group they’re infiltrating as part of the Monaghan case. They want a case. We want you safe. It’s personal for us. Look, there was this guy at Grady’s bar last night. He didn’t match any of the descriptions we have on file as Peter’s men, but maybe that’s good. Maybe he sent someone new. He disappeared somewhere out of town last night, but if he comes back we’ll be ready to tail him.”
“What did he look like? Peter isn’t big on hiring new men. His goons are all either friends from childhood or people his father used.”
“Red-haired guy, about six foot maybe. Green eyes. Little scar next to his eye.”
Addie’s heart stopped, or at least it felt as though it did. “Laurel,” she managed to whisper.
“You recognize him?”
“Laurel, that’s Peter.”
“What?”
“You just described Peter,” Addie repeated, something like panic and relief swelling inside her chest. Thank God they could move forward. Peter was here.
And what would he do to her? She couldn’t think about that. She had to think about the future. About ending this.
“No. The description we have of Peter is six-four, two forty, dark hair, blue eyes, with a tattoo on his wrist.”
“No. No, that’s not Peter. That’s not Peter at all. He’s shorter. Wiry. Red hair. Green eyes. The scar. I would know, Laurel. I would know.”
Laurel swore. “So much for the damn FBI. Okay, I’ve got to radio this new description out to my men. Because he’s here, Addie, and things are going to go down soon. Be smart. Be safe. Keep everything on you. Phone. Gun. Everything. Got it?”
Addie nodded be
fore remembering she was on the phone. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.” She didn’t like carrying the gun around, so she’d started keeping a sheathed awful-looking knife in her pocket and the gun hidden in the kitchen. But she’d go get the gun. She’d be safe. She’d end this.
“I’ll call again soon. Be safe.” And with that the line went dead.
Addie took a deep breath. This was what she’d left Noah for. This was what she needed to do to keep Seth safe once and for all. She got to her feet, shaky with nerves, but filled with righteous determination.
Peter was here. Which meant he’d be here soon enough. They’d made it look like they were trying to keep her safe, but the locks were paltry and the windows weren’t boarded. It’d be easy for anyone to sneak in.
When someone did, she’d have a deputy at her door, or Grady, or someone to save her and arrest Peter. If she could keep calm. If she could think clearly and make sure Peter made his intent known.
He would. She was sure he would.
“God, please, please, let that all be true,” she whispered.
A loud smacking sound startled a scream out of her. She whirled at the sound of clapping, and her knees nearly buckled when Peter stepped around the corner, applauding as he smiled that horrible dead-eyed, evil-infused smile.
“Impressive performance, Addie.”
She stood straighter, reminding herself to be strong. Reminding herself what she was doing. Saving Seth. Saving herself.
“Really, that was impressive,” Peter said, gesturing at the phone clutched in her hand. “You should thank me for such a compliment.”
“Go to hell.”
Peter sighed heavily. “Always so rude. Your sister at least had some manners.”
“Don’t talk about her.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Well, this has gone on quite long enough, hasn’t it? Though your fear and running has kept me quite entertained, and this darling little family you think you’ve created here. I can’t decide if I want to kill them all and let you live with the guilt of that or something else entirely.”
Addie smiled, some inner sense of calm and rightness stealing over her. Any second now, she’d be rescued and Peter would be put in jail. “Good luck, Peter,” she offered faux-sweetly.