Defeat the Darkness (Paladins of Darkness 6)

by Alexis Morgan

  “Tommy.” Mabel smiled at the memory, her sadness gone for the moment. “He was a handsome one, Tate. You might not believe it looking at me now, but I was considered a beauty back in the day. I could’ve had my pick of a dozen men, but one look at those smiling black Irish eyes of his and I was a goner.”

  She fumbled for the wallet in her purse, then laid a well-worn photo on the table for Tate to see. It was hard to see the woman sitting next to her in the pretty young face smiling in the picture, but there was something about the eyes and the way she held her head that looked familiar. Mabel was right. Her Tommy had been a handsome man, and his military uniform only emphasized his athletic build.

  “I bet he turned his fair share of heads, Mabel. I like his smile.”

  “I did, too.” Mabel traced his face with her fingertip. “He had a laugh that made everyone around him want to join in. But he was deadly serious when it came to serving our country. I suppose it’s old-fashioned to describe a man as a warrior, but that’s what my Tommy was.”

  Tate was getting a bad feeling, but she had to ask. “How long has he been gone?”

  “Close to fifty years.”

  Tate’s heart broke. “What happened?”

  There was such pride in the old woman’s voice when she answered. “He was career military. They never told me the details, just that he was gone. I have all of his medals back at the house. I should show them to you sometime.” Mabel blinked rapidly several times.

  Tate patted Mabel on the shoulder.

  “Thank you for sharing about Tommy with me.”

  A commotion outside interrupted, drawing the ladies’ attention outside. Hunter’s truck was pulling up in front of the garage. Tate ignored the surge of relief that washed through her. He’d left in such anger that she’d had to wonder if he’d even be back. Not that she cared—much. After all, the man had been an absolute jerk earlier when his friend had been leaving. She’d done nothing to deserve his bad temper.

  Mabel stared out the window for a few seconds. “Looks like your young man is headed this way. Wonder what’s in the box.”

  “He’s not my young man, Mabel. He’s my tenant.”

  “Well, I’d better be getting back.” Mabel picked up her cane and stood up. She took a couple of steps, then stopped. “Tate, you know I’m not one to go around giving advice where it’s not wanted.”

  She paused, waiting for Tate to say something. “I know that, Mabel,” Tate finally responded.

  But it was obvious Mabel thought Tate needed some advice now. “Young lady, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss my Tommy, and I would’ve given up my own life to spend even another day with him.”

  Her chin came up and she met Tate’s gaze head on, her pale blue eyes burning brightly. “It’s not easy loving a warrior, but that just means they need it all that much more.”

  Then she walked away, leaving Tate sitting there in stunned silence. Who said anything about love?

  The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Hunter quickened his pace to catch up with the woman stepping out of the tea shop.

  “Miss Mabel, I was hoping you and your sisters could use some fresh blueberries. I bought more than one man can eat.”

  “We would love some. That was sweet of you to think of us,” she said with a pleased look.

  His laugh sounded rough even to his own ears. “I don’t think anyone has ever described me as sweet before.”

  “Well, there’s sweet and then there’s sweet. You’re the kind where the taste is subtle but lingers for hours.” She smiled, the gleam in her faded eyes more than a touch wicked.

  Hunter set the tray of berries down on Tate’s front step and took out two pints for the three sisters to share. “Why, Miss Mabel, are you flirting with me?”

  Her giggle sounded like a young girl’s. “If you have to ask, then I’m not doing a very good job of it, am I?”

  “I’m flattered.” He offered her his arm, shifting his cane and the berries to his other hand. “May I walk you home?”

  “That would be nice, especially since my sisters are watching from the window. They’ll be jealous, you know. It’s been a long time since a handsome man came calling on one of us.”

  He leaned down and kissed her papery cheek. “Then the men here in Washington must all be fools.”

  “You sure can be charming when you want to, Hunter,” she said as they started up the sidewalk to her front door. “You might do better to use it on Tate Justice instead of wasting it on me.”

  What could he say to that? The last thing he needed was Tate to think he was flirting with her, especially after the other night.

  “She’ll have to settle for me trying harder to be polite.”

  “You can offer her more than that, young man. She hasn’t had an easy time of it, you know. Not with that vulture of a mother always hounding her for money.” Mabel grimaced. “I shouldn’t spread gossip, even if it’s true.”

  “Don’t worry, it’s already forgotten.” He supported Mabel as she climbed the three steps to her door, then he handed her the berries.

  “Thank you again. Think about what I said.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he promised, wishing his fingers were crossed. He wasn’t about to tell Mabel that the only thing he wanted to offer Tate was a few hot and sweaty nights between the sheets.

  But now it was time to wave the white flag and present his peace offering to Tate. As soon as his temper had cooled, he’d regretted his actions. D.J. was a different matter. Paladins were used to each other’s tempers and tended not to hold grudges about it.

  After picking up the cardboard carton he’d left at Tate’s door, he popped a couple of blueberries into his mouth, savoring their sweetness. It reminded him of what Mabel had said. Jarvis and Jake would howl over someone thinking a Paladin was sweet. It really showed how insulated ordinary people were from the nightmare Paladins faced every day. Men like him were anything but sweet, but that was how it should be. People like Tate and the Auntie Ms deserved to keep their innocence.

  The door opened—he’d lingered too long. Tate stood staring at him, her expression unreadable.

  “I thought you might like blueberries.” He held out the box, hoping she’d take it and disappear.

  Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Why would you care what I like?”

  Sometimes it was easier to just bend over and take the licks. “Because I was a jerk. Happy now?”

  “Not completely, but I’m getting there.” She stepped outside. “I wasn’t trying to crowd you this morning. I know better. You’ve made sure of that.”

  Hadn’t he just admitted to being a jerk? What else did she want from him? There was only so much groveling he was willing to do.

  “Look, do you want the berries or not? I said I was sorry.”

  “No, you said you were a jerk.” She held out her hands. “But thank you. Apology accepted.”

  “Okay, then.” But instead of handing her the box, he picked out a ripe berry and held it up to her mouth. He felt the soft brush of her lips against his fingertips from his head to his toes.

  “Delicious.” He wasn’t talking about the blueberry, and they both knew it.

  “Hunter?”

  She was staring at his mouth, leaning slightly forward as if waiting for him to kiss her. He needed to get away from her—or a whole lot closer. When she looked at him with those clear blue eyes, what did she see? The man he used to be would’ve been flirting, seeing how far she would let him go. But he wasn’t sure who he was anymore, much less how to approach a woman like Tate.

  “Do you want to have dinner with me?” he asked.

  He wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised by the question. His first thought was to retract the offer, but he couldn’t find the words. Maybe he’d get lucky and she’d refuse.

  No such luck.

  She took a step back before answering. “Sure, why not? Where do you want to go?”

  Now that was
a good question. Most of the restaurants he’d tried in town had drive-thrus. “I’ll let you pick. I like Greek, Italian, and any place that serves rare steaks.”

  She looked shocked. “Oh, I’m sorry, but I’m a strict vegetarian. I only eat at organic restaurants. You know, yogurt, tofu, and fresh veggies. I know the perfect place!”

  Tofu! He winced. How did he get out of this now? A drive-thru sounded better by the second. Still, he’d offered.

  He tried to look enthusiastic. “Okay. Tofu it is. Can’t wait. I’ll meet you out here in an hour.”

  That’s when he noticed Tate struggling to keep a straight face. When she couldn’t contain it any longer, her laughter rang out bright and clear.

  “Oh, God, Hunter, if you could’ve seen your face!” She used her free hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry, that was mean, but I just couldn’t resist.”

  He gave in and gave her a reluctant smile. “I probably had that coming.”

  “Yes, you did. But I’d love a steak dinner. I know a good surf-and-turf place that’s not too far or too expensive.”

  That stung. “I’m not worried about the prices, Tate. I can afford it.”

  She grimaced. “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant the food is great, but the decor isn’t fancy and people can come casual. You couldn’t get me into panty hose this time of year.”

  He’d be a lot more interested in getting her out of them, but he doubted she’d want to hear that. “Sounds good. Meet you here in an hour.”

  “Okay, then.” She started back inside. Then she called after him, “And thank you for the berries. They’re my favorite.”

  “What to wear, what to wear?”

  Sometimes she wished she had a cat. At least then she’d have someone to talk to besides herself. Tate stared at the three outfits she’d picked out.

  She put the jeans back in the drawer. “Too hot, too casual.”

  The shorts and matching top went next. “They’d be cool enough, but they’re white. With my luck I’d drip something down the front.”

  That left the sundress. She held it up in front of her and stared at the mirror. The color played up her tan and made her eyes look bluer. Slip on the white sandals and she’d be set. Besides, she was running out of time if she wanted to shower.

  Twenty minutes later, she stood at the window watching Hunter start down the steps from his apartment. Butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach, mostly because she wasn’t sure exactly what this was supposed to be. Two friends going Dutch treat? That would be okay with her, but she suspected he was planning on paying for both of them. A steak dinner was a tad extreme for an apology for his short temper. Besides, that’s what the blueberries had been for.

  Which left a date. Did that even make sense, when he’d been working so hard to keep her at arm’s length? But here she was, all dolled up. Hunter had on khaki pants and a sports shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his powerful forearms. Her heart did a double flip. Even with his cane, there was no mistaking the masculine strength in the way he moved—or the way her body reacted to him.

  Time to go. She stepped outside and locked the door behind her. Rather than wait, she met him halfway. He tried to be subtle about checking her out, but his smile had too much heat in it for her not to notice.

  “You look great.”

  “Thank you.” She warmed, basking in his approval. “So do you.”

  His expression said he doubted that, but he didn’t comment. “Are we ready?”

  “I am if you are.” For dinner. Just dinner.

  They walked over to the passenger side of Hunter’s massive pickup truck. Oh, dear. She hadn’t been thinking about the logistics of climbing up into the cab when she’d decided to wear a dress. She reached for the grip and pulled herself up, all too aware of how high her skirt rode up as she did so.

  When she was settled, she expected Hunter to shut the door, but he seemed mesmerized by her legs. She tugged her skirt down a bit farther and then reached to close the door herself. When she moved, Hunter blinked and shook his head. Then he slammed the door.

  O-kay, then. They’d been together less than ten minutes and already he was mad. That should make the rest of the evening interesting.

  Hunter followed Tate’s directions to the restaurant, doing his damnedest to keep his eyes firmly on the road. One glimpse of those tanned legs as she’d climbed into the truck and he already had a world-class woody. Hopefully she’d assumed the trouble he had walking around to his side of the truck had been due to his usual limp. A bit of black humor had him smiling: At last he had a reason to be thankful to the Others for the damage they’d caused.

  He doubted anyone else would find that funny, including his companion.

  “The restaurant is at the end of the block on the right.”

  “I see it.”

  They rode in silence while he found a parking spot. He got out of the truck and considered his options. If he let her climb down, he’d be right back where he started the trip—hard and hurting. To forestall that event, he handed her his cane and picked her up by the waist, lifting her down to the ground.

  His unexpected move startled a gasp out of Tate. “Next time warn me!”

  He liked crowding her a bit, so he held his ground, trapping her between himself and the truck. “What is it they say? It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission.”

  “And if I don’t want to forgive you?”

  Her hand came up to rest on his chest as if to push him away, but he caught it in his and held it there.

  “Well, then I’d have to find some way to earn it. You know, buy you some more blueberries, or”—he lifted her hand to his mouth—“I could do this.” He pressed a soft kiss to her palm, letting his breath tease her skin.

  “Or maybe this.” Moving slowly, letting her make the final decision, he leaned in close to brush his lips across hers. “What do you say, Tate? Forgive me?”

  When she didn’t immediately answer, he kissed her again, this time a little slower, a little longer, wrapping his hand around the curve of her neck. He kept the kiss short and gentle in comparison to their earlier ones. But the effects still burned through him like fine scotch.

  He rested his forehead against hers. “I probably should say I’m sorry for that, too, but I hate to lie.”

  Her mouth quirked up in a half smile. “In that case, I’ll settle for the truth.”

  Stepping back, he took her hand. “Come on, then. Let’s go find you that steak.”

  Chapter 6

  Hunter could’ve eaten cardboard for dinner and not complained as long as he could stare across the table at Tate Justice. The soft overhead light brought out the highlights in her short blond hair and the sparkle in her pretty blue eyes. Her mouth was driving him crazy, making him wish they were somewhere far more private than a restaurant.

  They kept the conversation light, managing to avoid potential mine fields like his past, her family, and politics. But it didn’t take long for them to get into a good-tempered argument over books, sports, and whether men had to watch chick flicks in equal proportion to the number of beat ’em up, blow ’em up movies they dragged their dates to.

  He lost that one. She even warned him that she’d be keeping score if they ever went to the movies together.

  Tate laughed at the expression on his face when she described her movie collection to him. Finally, she relented and admitted that she also had a shelf of films with explosions and great sword fights.

  “How about dessert?”

  “You bet.” She grinned across the table at him. “Normally I’d pretend not to want any and then eat half of yours, but their strawberry shortcake is to die for. I’ll have to put in about eight hours on the treadmill at the gym tomorrow to make up for it.”

  “Let’s make it two,” he told the waitress. Turning back to Tate, he picked up where they’d left off. “I didn’t know you belonged to a gym.”

  “I don’t. I sort of
own one. I still haven’t given you the full tour of my house, have I? My uncle wanted the place to be sort of a community center for Justice Point, so there’s a mini fitness center behind the tea shop. It doesn’t get much use because so many of the residents are elderly, but the equipment is top of the line. There’s a treadmill, weights, an elliptical machine, and some other stuff. Feel free to use it anytime.”

  “Thanks, I might just take you up on that.”

  Silence settled easily between them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed an evening out so much. It was a shame it had to end.

  Hunter glanced around to check on the waitress’s progress on their dessert, and spotted her over by the window.

  It was dark outside.

  His stomach clenched, and he grabbed onto the edge of the table for support. Shit! Where had the time gone? This time of year it stayed light in the Northwest until close to ten o’clock, so they’d been sitting in the restaurant for over three hours.

  The waitress walked toward them, blocking his view of the window. She set down two enormous helpings of strawberry shortcake. The sight made him sick. Too sweet, too perfect, too much everything.

  He had to get out, get home, get away before he lost control. Where the hell was the door?

  “Hunter, is something wrong?”

  “No!” His voice, ruined right along with everything else, grated on his own ears. “I’ve… no, we’ve got to leave. Now.”

  He held onto coherency long enough to throw a pile of money on the table. Too much, probably, but the price of freedom was always high. Right now he’d sell his soul to get outside, where the stars overhead would give him enough room to breathe without screaming.

  His leg was stiff from sitting so long, but he managed to lurch his way to the front door, only dimly aware of the waves of worry following him as Tate struggled to keep up.

  Outside, he leaned against the building. He’d reached the sanctuary of the darkness. The glare of neon and streetlights diluted the comfort, but anything was better than being shut inside four walls. Tate moved up beside him as he coasted to a stop, unable to go another step farther. Besides, where could he go to outrun himself?